Chapter Text

"It begins with an ending."

Draco never had been a friend of Potter, perhaps at some point in the war they had come to an unspoken truce, where he would help him out of Malfoy Manor and Potter would save the world.

However, he doesn't know at what point it all went to hell. Maybe it was when he decided that continuing to feign loyalty to the dark lord in the middle of Hogwarts was the most ridiculous thing he could choose in life. So he had helped the golden trio, but the friendfyre was there in a second, and Potter was trying to save him, the fire was embracing, too close to him... and it could have consumed Potter as well, and that was not something he could afford. For once in his life he thought of the good of others, and not just his own. He looked into the eyes of his school rival with determined resolve, and caught the pure horror in those bright green eyes before he let himself fall into the fire.

It was all over almost immediately.

And then... he got out of bed, he was sweating, his body too hot to be normal.

He looked around, noticing that he was in his own room... but even this one looked different. The pictures, the books and the order itself were very different from Draco's room, it looked more like it had before he had first left for Hogwarts-

He jumped out of bed, shuddering at the contrast of heat between his body and his surroundings. He ran to the large mirror in the bathroom, almost falling into the doorway, his grey eyes staring in horror and some amazement at the reflection.

His eleven-year-old self was staring back at him. Then he looked at himself, not just at the reflection, and realised that his body was smaller, there was no trace of dark mark or the scars from Potter's sectumsempra. And he couldn't even begin to think that all of the above had been a dream, because the clothes on him were fucking burnt in places, and there was even soot on his face.

He had died. He was incinerated... but then, why was he here now? How come he was there?

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his swirling thoughts, trying to understand. Was this a reward for sacrificing himself? A chance to change everything, to make it better?

He heard footsteps outside his room, and quickly closed the bathroom door. He had no way to explain the burnt clothes, not now, but if he had some time he could ask an elf to get rid of them, right?

He thought quickly about how to stay in the bathroom without the other person getting suspicious, but the knocking on his front door came too soon.

— Draco, are you awake? —his mother's voice echoed through the vast empty space, and Draco was never so aware of how huge and hollow everything in that house was, filled with nothing but expectations, demands and idealistic prejudices that would do nothing but bring them to their end.

But Draco wouldn't be like that, not again. His father's trial was no longer something that held any importance in his mind, not knowing where it would lead them. No. He had a better plan, one where he didn't end up dead.

—Yes, mother. I'm awake.

Much more than he ever was.

—Amazing, son. Hurry up and get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast, we're going shopping for your things for Hogwarts today.

The almost silent sound of her dress dragging outside gave him a hint that he was alone. He thought for a minute about which of the elves he should call, which one of them wasn't going to say anything.

He hurried to get out of his ruined pyjamas when he remembered him, the elf who had helped him get the golden trio and others out of the manor. Oh, yes, of course. Dobby.

— Dobby! —he called, anxious to get rid of the clothes for good. The loud crack alerted him to the elf's presence in his room.

— Yes, young Master Malfoy, sir? What do you need Dobby for? —the high-pitched, trembling voice brought him an unfounded peace, almost familiarity.

—I need you to get rid of some... tattered pyjamas. —he heard a squeak of understanding—. And I don't want anyone to know about this, Dobby. No one.

Another affirmation and he dropped the pyjamas at his feet, hearing one more snap outside, and the clothes were gone. He sighed in relief, leaning against the door.

—Thank you, Dobby. —He spoke again, a muffled exclamation from the little creature, and several babbles that he didn't take the time to decipher. He allowed a few minutes of that and then sighed, —You can go, I'm sure you were busy... I'm sorry to have distracted you.

Well, he had apologised to an elf, how affected had he been by living with the dark lord, Death Eaters, a war and dying?

Enough, it seemed.

He got ready almost automatically, not daring to look in the mirror again. It was so strange to be at that stage of his life again, even more so knowing all that was to come about them.

And what he would do... or would have done in the past, or future? Anyway, that wasn't happening again. For once in his life he would take matters into his own hands. His father wasn't going to tell him how to handle himself, not from now on.

He went down to breakfast, chin up and a much more... knowledgeable, almost millennial look, having a youthful glow, but ancient knowledge. An antithesis in itself.

He said nothing during the meal, silently listening to his parents boast about whatever it was they were talking about. Draco sometimes understood why he was the way he was, but at other times he just wanted to evaporate them, so he wouldn't have to be like them. Never again.

He continued his silent treatment during their walk through Diagon Alley, his parents had been giving him confused looks, even going so far as to stand in the window of Quality Articles for Quidditch, trying to get a reaction, but Draco barely blinked at the broom.

When they reached Madam Malkin, however, her son asked them to go get his other things, because he was irritated at being surrounded by so many people, Lucius might have reprimanded him, but Narcissa urged him to leave quickly. She wasn't comfortable in such crowded places either, so she thought she understood her son a little.

Little did she know that what Draco was really doing was dispatching them so he could have his meeting with Harry Potter and start moving his pieces carefully. The game was kicking off from this point on, and Draco had to concentrate on not losing this game because he didn't have another chance.

He entered the shop, being greeted by the plump woman, a friendly smile and quick steps. Soon he was on a stool, standing still so as not to get in the woman's way, and also so as not to be stabbed by a pin.

The bell rang, but Draco concentrated on keeping his eyes on his feet. He knew what was coming, he knew it had been... unpleasant. And that he had to change it, but he wasn't really sure Potter liked his current self.

He heard the rattle of the bench wobbling under the extra weight and finally looked up. Green eyes with flashes of gold watched him nervously, and Draco for the first time saw Harry Potter in a different light. The first time they had met, Draco hadn't paid any attention to the boy, just wanted to talk a bit without caring at all what he looked like or where he came from. Much less who he was...but, now that he knew who the person he was talking to was, everything had a different, almost shadowed hue in the bright place.

— Hello, —he spoke, with conciliatory calm this time,—  Hogwarts too, mh?

The jet-haired man looked at him with wide eyes, as if he was waiting for him to start shouting in his face, how could he not notice the first time? Draco doesn't know. Not that it matters much now. Harry nodded, a flash of excitement shone through him, Draco nodded back.

—  How are you doing with the shopping? I want to go home already, there's a lot of people pushing and shoving out there. —he grumbled, letting out an exasperated sigh, glancing back at the witch who was fixing his robes, making sure he hadn't disturbed her by moving, he found himself with a small smile and turned back to Potter.

—  It's insane! There are so many people... and so many strange things. — he almost gasped, real excitement in it. Then he looked embarrassed and cleared his throat. But Hagrid's helping me today, so I don't get lost, or something.

The blond nodded, understanding. The first time he'd set foot in Diagon Alley he'd been shocked too, and he'd lived in magical society, he'd been exposed to the whole world at a very young age, but Diagon Alley was something else entirely, no matter which family you were from.

— I know, it's completely crazy to see so many magical things in one place. — he laughed, feeling a little weird. He hadn't even been able to smile in months, so he wondered if this was just nervous energy coming out in different ways.

Potter nodded fervently, agreeing with him, and Draco felt a soft tug at the corner of his lips, almost smiling at Harry Potter.

Madam Malkin's voice interrupted their talk, and it was then that the boy had to leave. The blond turned to look at him and Draco smiled reassuringly, shaking one of his hands at him.

— See you at Hogwarts, — he dismissed the blond, who nodded again and ran for the door without even saying his name. And Draco almost rolled his eyes at the lack of politeness, but he already knew Potter, so he didn't give it a second thought.

It was hours later, sitting on his windowsill, that he began to think about what he could remember of the first years. The third floor in first year, the Chamber of Secrets in second, Black in third-

He looked down at his hands as he remembered that part. Black was related to him, to some degree, but after third year he had simply disappeared, and Potter didn't even seem bothered by it.

There was something odd, something Draco would have to find out, because he'd heard a lot of things being among Death Eaters, but what was never really talked about was Black's absence, the more they seemed to hate him, especially his Aunt Bellatrix... and that rodent-faced man.

He needed to get going, so he cautiously made his way to the library at Malfoy Manor, ready to ransack it and find out as much information as possible, he would even take documents out of his father's office. He was tired of secrets, and if no one was willing to be truthful, then he would to find out by his own methods.

Chapter Text

"First year at Hogwarts.".

Draco hadn't looked for Potter on the train, knowing he would be with Weasley and that was a discussion that wouldn't happen again, so he waited until they reached the stairs to approach him, gently touching his shoulder. When the chosen one looked up at him, Draco was surprised to receive such a big smile.

— Hi! I didn't manage to find you on the train, and I couldn't ask anyone about you either because I didn't know your name...— Potter looked appropriately embarrassed when Draco arched an eyebrow at him, and the blond shouldn't have felt the satisfaction that rose in his chest.

—My name is Draco — he supplied, a sneer underlying his tone. He heard a snort of laughter and almost froze, but then he remembered who Potter was with now. Of course he wasn't going to get away with this.

Potter, however, scowled at Weasley.

— Why are you laughing?

Draco looked at Potter, feeling a little unsettled, but without his cold mask stirring for a second. In all the ways he could imagine this, it never came to Potter getting angry with Weasley.

The red-haired boy looked at the boy in shock, and a little irritated that he would defend a Malfoy above all else. Miss McGonagall arriving was the only thing that stopped the dispute. She began her speech, but Draco barely and barely focused on the murmur of her voice, moving a little away from the duo, settling back between Vincent and Gregory. The familiarity of the situation would keep him focused enough, without the extreme need to look over his shoulder at every turn, not with the two of them there.

He came back to himself as he walked down the corridor to reach the place where the Sorting Hat awaited them, currently intoning its song, under the wondering eyes of everyone, even those who already knew it would happen, and even knew the lyrics by heart.

"[...] those people who would use any means to achieve their ends..."

Draco smiled, almost mockingly. Every day since he had been presented with this new opportunity he had been doing exactly that.

The names began to echo around the room, with their respective house announcements and applause. He was almost absent as he listened to them echo, vaguely remembering where they would all go anyway.

—Malfoy, Draco. —McGonagall called and the blond moved like an automaton to the stool, facing the front, where the four long tables were. The hat was barely held above his head before he exclaimed that he was going to Slytherin.

He didn't smile, didn't give anyone a second glance, just walked gracefully over to where his comrades were waiting for him, clapping along with the rest of his house. He sat there, staring at the flat, empty surface of the table, listening to everyone's speculation for a few long minutes until McGonagall's voice echoed through the dining room, calling out to Potter.

Whispers were raised, speculation from the other tables, in Slytherin all agreed that he would be in lion house. Draco met the nervous green eyes among the sea of heads that separated them, and smiled encouragingly. He felt a tug of satisfaction as the tension in Harry's shoulders seemed to disappear.

The dining room fell silent as the hat pondered what decision to make, and even Draco was beginning to grow impatient as even more time passed than the first time. Then the cloth ripped to reveal his mouth again.

— SLYTHERIN!

Draco froze where he stood, halfway through celebrating, while his house was in complete shock, looking up at Potter and then back down at themselves. The blond started clapping at last, still somewhat confused by what had happened, and his friends, at least the ones who were already there with him, followed suit. And soon the whole house was clapping for their newest member.

They gave the boy a space next to Draco, assuming he would want him by his side, and, if he was honest, the blond himself wasn't sure about that. He wanted to patch things up with Potter, to create an alliance with him and get a place on the side of the light, but it wasn't in his plans to separate him from his friends. That wasn't something he wanted to do, not even if it meant taking Weasley out of the picture.

The list of names went on, but the mood seemed to dim in the air, and even the snakes seemed somewhat out of place, or well, so Draco could tell being part of the group.

When the last boy from his house, Zabini, arrived at the table, Draco decided to look at the boy next to him, who had his hands tucked between his thighs, looking so out of place that Draco was tempted to ask if there hadn't been a mistake in his selection, however, it didn't seem to be polite.

He touched his shoulder and tilted his face towards the boy.

— Are you worried that Weasley won't want to talk to you anymore because you're part of us?

Potter startled, immediately looking him in the eye. Draco smiled at the sincerity of the reaction.

—I hadn't even thought about that— the boy muttered, Draco blinking in confusion, which seemed to encourage the other to speak—. I was more worried about you not talking to me...uh, and how other people look at me.

The blond nodded, understanding half the sentiment.

—In the first place, why wouldn't I want to talk to you? —he waved his hand in the air, as if trying to evoke the ridiculousness of the thought—. And secondly, we can fix that.

He leaned over to his other side, ordering Goyle to spread the request to the elders. Soon they had one of their prefects rising from his place, walking over to the teachers' table, nodding towards them. And the Bloody Baron heading towards the other ghosts.

McGonagall stood up again, drawing everyone's attention.

—The Headmaster has a few words for everyone... If you could all behave yourselves, that would be wonderful.

The older ones shuddered, and urged the younger ones to stop staring so brazenly at the snake table. Dumbledore stood up, smiling at everyone, but Draco carefully avoided his eyes, well aware of what the man could do.

— Welcome,— he exclaimed, opening his arms —Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin the feast, I want to say a few things to you: Nuts! Whiners! Trinkets! Tweak! Thank you very much!

The dining hall erupted in applause and everyone proceeded to gasp as the food appeared, perhaps that was another thing that would never fail to impress. Draco poured himself some of what he had on hand, earning a confused look from his friends. Potter, on the other hand, was looking at all the food, not knowing where to start.

Draco looked at him, arching his eyebrows, and that was when the black-haired boy remembered that he could move and take something for himself. They ate in silence, barely glancing over his plate, as the noise of the entire school grew louder, perhaps momentarily forgetting Harry Potter being elected to Slytherin.

Dinner ended, and the director gave the appropriate warnings, but Draco paid no real attention, far more busy thinking about the letters he had been sending to the Head Auror. A little curious as to what the outcome would be.

The students began to move, and Draco instinctively followed the sea of green. His friends were talking to each other in whispers, but Potter stood silently beside him, glancing at him sporadically. Draco had taken his hand at one point, and that was what finally quelled the growing concern in the green eyes.

They arrived at the dungeons amidst murmurs, the older students clustering behind the first years. Draco stood between Potter and Theodore, staring straight ahead, seeing nothing in particular.

But when he caught Severus Snape entering the room out of the corner of his eye, he unconsciously let go of Potter, straightening his posture. This was immediately copied by his fellow students.

The man looked at the students of his house, grimacing in an almost smirk-like manner. He proceeded to stand firmly in front of the semicircle that had formed.

—I am Professor Severus Snape, the Head of Slytherin and your Potions Professor... —he began, his voice ringing clear in the abysmal silence of the room—. I do not expect anything less than excellence from you. Only wizards worthy of a great future reside in the House of Salazar; powerful wizards who must create their own path to success.

His eyes flickered to them, particularly the bespectacled boy, and Draco couldn't help but understand everything that look meant. He shivered imperceptibly, cold sweat breaking out on his palms.

—The prefects will be in charge of guiding you through this first week, so that none of you get lost. We're a close-knit house, we don't go out there alone. Never. —he lowered his voice a little, almost looking comforting. Draco nodded, knowing what his godfather meant. —You only have each other here, house loyalty is something that is not up for debate. You already have three quarters of the school against you, you don't need to fall apart over internal conflicts as well. You can have problems, hate each other if you want... But out there we are a strong and united front.

Once everyone had the same look of understanding, standing in firm, unwavering stances, the teacher continued.

—Your timetables will be given to you tomorrow before breakfast. If you have any questions or problems, don't hesitate to come to a senior, or to me. —he turned, almost retreating, as he looked back at them—. I won't tell you not to break the rules... but I do order you to be careful. You must not get caught doing it

The new brood of snakes nodded, sly smiles dancing on their lips. Well, most of them. Draco had a blank expression, and Potter was looking at the blond with pure curiosity.

Gemma Farley stood in front of the whole group, a sideways smile towards the elders, dismissing them all with a hand thrown in the air. Almost dismissive, receiving jeers without a real bite.

—I'm your prefect, my name is Gemma Farley. I'll only be with you this year. —She gestured to another girl, who gave a partial bow, hesitant due to the mix of titles in her ensemble. Draco couldn't blame her—. This is Peyton Loughty, the second prefect, who you will enjoy for the first two years. Next to her is her prefect Gael Berrycloth, and the one who looks like an idiot on the verge of collapse is my partner, Edrick Amery. Whatever problems come their way, come to us.

Firm nods and then they were being led down different corridors, each headed for their rooms. Berrycloth was in the lead, speaking.

—The first rooms are for the older students: seventh, sixth and fifth. In the middle are third and second, and at the end, between the fourth year rooms, are the first years, near a hidden corridor.

Draco could see through his peripheral that everyone was watching the area, but it was Potter's confused look that made him lean slightly to his side.

—It's in case there's an attack. So that the younger ones are protected, the older ones stop the attackers and the fourth years take the first years out, and protect them until they're sure there's no longer any danger nearby. —He explained, trying to be clear with his words. The boy's eyes sparkled in understanding, and Draco smiled almost unnoticed. His prefect confirmed his statement, smiling approvingly at him.

They reached the end of the long corridor, and all stopped in front of the three dark wooden doors.

—Unlike the other houses, we are few in number, so we are allowed to live with fewer housemates. You will go in pairs, your choice, but remember it is permanent. There is no change after this, you will be together for the next seven years.

They began to look at each other as the prefects left. Draco was looking at what was his room, obviously the middle one, and wondered what would happen this time, because when this happened the first time, there were five of them, and he ended up sharing with Crabbe and Goyle.

He looked at his mates and realised: he had to make the decision. He had the highest title, or well, so they thought. Draco was pretty sure Harry Potter had a few titles over there, but there would be more time for that.

He sighed.

—Potter, with me. —They all nodded, and he clung to his side, though he had never really moved from there. Draco felt a faint tenderness, which he hid perfectly with his blank mask—. Vincent and Gregory, to the left. Blaise, Theo, to the right.

When everyone had nodded, and no one seemed to doubt his decision, he turned, walking towards the middle door, which was beginning to write the names of the chosen couples on its plaque.

He could almost breathe a sigh of relief as he stood in the dark space, partially lit by small candles. He glanced over at his partner, who seemed to be taking in the place in awe.Draco decided that the bathroom was calling him, so he gave in to his desire for hygiene. He was in there for about twenty minutes, doing everything on automatic, until he thought it was enough.

When he came out, Potter was sitting in the middle of one of the beds, already facing him. They locked eyes for a few seconds, but Draco looked away, overwhelmed by how open and sincere those green windows looked.

—Draco...— He looked at the boy again, sitting up in his own bed. He nodded, asking him to continue—. Did you know who I was?

Draco sighed, his eyes trying to shy away again.

—Not really, not when you came into the shop...— That was a partial lie, wasn't it wrong, wasn't it?—. When I first saw you, you were just an ordinary boy, I didn't think you were...— he made a grand gesture, as if he wanted to encompass everything Harry Potter meant to the magical world with his hands. Harry shrunk in place—, You know, the boy who lived. It's not like you've told me your name either, as if I even suspect anything...

Potter nodded, looking at him for a few seconds, just to be sure of the sincerity that shone through that silver sea.

—So, Potter, anything else?

The black-haired boy thought about it, just for a few seconds, but shook his head. Draco smiled slightly, trying to reassure him.

—Good. Tomorrow the whole world will know about your new... condition. And I don't know if you've been told about this before, but we snakes aren't exactly well-liked. —He waited for a reaction from the brunette, and when he saw him nod hesitantly he almost smiled—. We're cruel, we're prejudiced, we do dark magic, and we're all malevolent wizards who believe in blood supremacy... —Potter blanched, blinking at him with wide eyes, like a serf caught before a hunter—. I'll start by saying that what I just said is partially true, Potter. There are people here who believe in blood supremacy, there are boys who practice the dark arts, and there are cruel people... just like in any other house. There are pure-bloods everywhere who hate Muggle-borns and only tolerate half-bloods. There are evil people, and there are dark believers who aren't exactly in Slytherin. To say that we are all like that is prejudiced in itself.

Harry nodded, leaning closer to him. Draco sighed, almost relieved that the boy wasn't shutting down. He was speaking from knowledge, having lived in Slytherin when the war was just stretching its first cold fingers, seen many of his peers try to get away from enforced servitude, seen others who would have openly fought against the Dark Lord had they been in another position. Not all of them were sons of bitches with purist beliefs.

—If you ever come across someone willing to kill you, I assure you, Potter, you won't have time to check which house they were from, or which school for that matter. —He grinned, plopping down on his bed, on his side, looking at the chosen one—. Besides, the black magic thing is moot?

— In what way is it moot?

—You can't get a cure for a disease you didn't study, can you? —The boy nodded, understanding where Draco was going now—. We wouldn't know how to defend ourselves against everything out there if we didn't study them first... but it's true that dark magic is a dangerous thing. Very tricky. It's not something to be trifled with, or underestimated.

Saint Potter nodded, falling back onto the bed as well. Both boys were silent after that, looking at each other, thinking of the next step to take.

Draco shuffled a little, crawling under the covers, curling up, ready to sleep when the other's raspy voice distracted him.

—Draco... —he called, and he hummed to show he was paying attention to him—. Call me Harry.

The blond stood still, staring wide-eyed at the dark silhouette in the other bed. A few long minutes of silence passed before Draco let out a clipped noise.

—All right. —He commented, curling up in his bed, almost hiding in the covers—. Good night, Harry.

Whether or not he received an answer, he couldn't say, as his ears felt clogged with shock. Never in his life had he thought this could happen to him, let alone the way he had been getting along with the chosen one all this time.

Maybe things could get better.

Chapter Text

"First week of class".

Draco discovered how horrible it was to be the centre of Harry's attention. The boy seemed to want to run away every time more than two people looked at him at once. The blond, at one point, tired of almost running after the Chosen One every ten minutes, decided that enough was enough.

— Haven't you lost something, don't you have a life to lead, that's why you stick your noses where no one has called you, —he exclaimed in the middle of the corridor, on his way to Transformations. Some had the decency to look away and others blushed.

Harry thanked him fervently, looking down at his hands as they waited for the teacher. Draco gave his arm a gentle squeeze, smiling at him through tight lips to reassure him. 

Their group formed a shell of sorts from that day on. Harry and Draco in the middle, with the girls and boys surrounding them, avoiding even more prying eyes. And even the older boys admonished anyone who spent more than five seconds with their eyes glued to Potter.

Beyond the unappreciated attention, it was a quiet week. Even if the blond didn't know better, he'd say that nothing strange would ever happen again. But, clearly, that was utopian.

The first Potions class came faster than ever and Draco didn't know whether or not to be excited for his favourite subject. He was curious, most of all, to see how his godfather was going to behave that day.

He also wanted to push Harry's head against Weasley's, to align their brain cells and stop staring at each other.

The door closed with a click, and Professor Snape's figure rose from between their desks. He glared at the entire class with intimidating eyes. Draco almost rolled his eyes as he paused longer than he should have at the spot where Harry sat.

—You are here to learn the subtle science of making potions. —he began, speaking almost in a whisper, but the students were so quiet that it didn't take much more than that to hear him clearly. Snape was definitely not one to be disobeyed—. There will be no stupid wand movements here, and many of you will doubt the magic of this. I don't expect you to understand the beauty of a gently boiling cauldron, with its glistening vapours. The delicate power of liquids sliding through human veins, bewitching the mind, tricking the senses. I can teach them how to bottle fame, prepare glory, even stop death... if they are anything more than the cork oaks I usually have to teach.

His cape billowed as he began to move through the pews, his footsteps unheard, more as if he were slithering like a snake. To the horror of mostly for the garnet side, clearly. The Salazar heirs were calm, facing forward, their parchments arranged and quills within reach.

Pansy rolled her eyes and gently elbowed Draco.The blond glanced over at whatever was causing his friend's amusement, and saw Granger on the edge of her chair, eyes large and bright, as if taking the words as a challenge. She looked ready to raise her hand.

— Weasley! —the professor called, causing the aforementioned boy to startle—. I assume you opened one of the books I asked for before introducing yourself to my class... so tell me, what do you get when you add asphodel root powder to an infusion of wormwood?

The class waited in silence, as the red-haired boy tried not to shiver from the undivided attention of those cold black eyes. Draco wished he could feel sorry for him.

—I don't know, sir.

The snakes arched their eyebrows, but Draco was staring at his parchment. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Granger's trembling hand, eager to answer it.

—Let's try that again, Mr. Weasley. —he asked, mockingly. Draco thought he could smell the redhead's fear—. Where would he find a bezoar?

—I-I don't know, sir.

Draco began to write to that point, earning a glare from Blaise. Then from Pansy, but Draco didn't return them, instead concentrating more on his writing.

—Apparently I expected too much from you. —the professor commented, in a scathing tone—.  What's the point of being the son of wizards if you don't know the most common things about the world you live in? One last chance, Mr. Weasley. Tell me the difference between aconite and wolfsbane. 

At this point, Draco could glimpse Granger's body standing almost in front of Professor Snape, and he felt uncomfortable. That wouldn't make the professor take any notice of her at all.

—I don't know. —he heard the shaky voice, and Draco wanted to dig himself into a pit. How did he enjoy this the first time? it's bloody awkward, for everyone—. But Hermione seems to have the answers, could you ask her...?

The blond almost groaned at the idiocy, felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to look at Harry, who looked confused. He waved towards the scene of the Gryffindors, then scrunched up his face. The brunette smiled with amusement, and Draco smiled back. His discomfort dissipated a little.

Snape turned to the girl and almost snarled at her as he spoke—. Sit down, Miss Granger.

Snape turned hastily and his eyes flashed at Draco, who was still partially turned. He pointed at him and the blond immediately stood up, keeping his eyes on the corner of his teacher's eye.

—We heard you, Mr. Malfoy.

—The mixture of asphodel root powder and wormwood produces a very powerful sleeping potion, known as the 'living dead philter'. —Snape nodded, waving his hand for him to continue—. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, it serves to save you from most known poisons. And aconite and wolfsbane are the same plant.

The professor's look was one of pure indifference, but the blond saw the proud gleam flicker in his eyes. He sat down, hurrying to finish writing that down, as his professor made his way back to the front of the class.

—Ten points to Slytherin for correct answers. —he announced, waving his wand in the air to erase what was there—. I hope you wrote down Mr. Malfoy's answers. Oh, and five points off for Gryffindor for Mr. Weasley's contempt. I will expect you in my office next week as soon as you have finished your timetable.

Without waiting any longer, the professor began to write down on the blackboard a recipe for curing boils, and indicated the page they should turn to. Draco began to write everything down almost without looking at the board, already knowing these things by heart.

He noticed the man's stare, but gave not a hint of it, going about his business, even going so far as to look up the ingredients to begin with, while Blaise was still idly copying everything down.

The class itself was no big deal, not for Draco, who did everything on automatic, including keeping Harry from messing up the potion, and Theo from dying of stress. The most relevant thing was the explosion in Longbottom's cauldron, but the blond barely blinked at that. Knowing a little more about the clumsy boy... even he felt a little bad to laugh, so he remained stoic.

Harry was the other one who wasn't even grimacing in amusement.

Class ended quickly after that, and Draco walked out with his friends, not really paying much attention to anything. Harry stood silently beside him. They looked at each other for a few seconds, but contact was quickly lost when someone shoved the blond as he passed.

— Hey, watch where you're going! —Pansy exclaimed—. Oh, right, a Weasley it had to be.

The blond sighed, refusing to be a part of it. Enough was enough for one day of Weasley.

He started to walk away, to everyone's surprise, without so much as a glance at the red-headed boy. Crabbe and Goyle hurried after him, accustomed to following him. The others lagged a little further behind, but they eventually gathered in the dining room. The large group of Slytherin gathered at the end of the table closest to the entrance, still muttering about how rude Weasley was being.

Harry tapped his shoulders and Draco turned to look at him, arching his eyebrows. His cheeks were a little full from the food, and the black-haired boy wrinkled his nose in amusement.

— You won't say anything about what happened?

Draco thought about it, looking towards the lions' table.

—I think it's a stupid thing to say. He was mad at the professor, but since he can't take it out on him, he comes to the nearest thing... it's not surprising. I don't care, really. —he shrugged his shoulders (it was strange even for him what he was saying. Draco of the past-present should be more irritating but he just couldn't find it in him to get angry about something so childish)—. I'm a Heir, I must behave like one... fighting with an honourable member of the Weasley family would not be decorous.

Everyone who understood shuddered. While both Blaise and Theo were heirs like him, neither of their families had as much power as the Malfoy family. All the girls nodded, understanding what he was getting at, though none of them had the weight of a title on their shoulders, not yet at least. Crabbe and Goyle just continued eating, used to Draco lecturing them on the decency of an heir.

Harry was, by far, the most confused.

Draco, who had already assumed that his friend was unaware of many things about the magical world, turned to him. Harry straightened up, almost familiar with the blond's gaze, the one that told him he would explain something of the utmost importance.

—Magical society is divided by titles and offices, Potter. The vast majority are dukes or marquises, but there are higher ranks. Blaise, Theo and I are heirs, in the future we will take our fathers' place in the Wizengamont, we will bear the title we are entitled to. We will be lords. —he made a flourish, while Theo and Blaise partially bowed—. The girls here, with the exception of Daphne, hold the title of lady. Whereas Miss Greengrass is a future countess.

The blonde bowed a little more than the boys, and the others even more. Within the range allowed by the table, of course.

—You, on the other hand, —the brunette turned to Draco, surprised— are a lord, from what I understand. Your father was the head of the Potter family, but being... deceased. —Draco found it difficult to talk about this sort of thing, Harry felt partially understood when he saw how difficult the boy found it when he spoke of deaths. He wondered if he'd suffered a profound loss before—. You become the undisputed lord. Though you can only take your place in the Wizengamont when you're sixteen.

Everyone nodded, agreeing with Draco, while Harry took a little longer, taking it all in. Meanwhile, the others began to eat, trying to let the subject drop on Harry.

If he had any doubts later, there was nothing they couldn't handle.

As they were about to leave the dining room a brownish-brown owl came to perch on Draco's shoulder. The blond immediately recognised the stamp on the letter, so he hurried to take it from the bird, and give it something to eat.

Dear Heir Malfoy;

 
I am contacting you due to a series of new developments.

As I have been telling you in previous letters, I have been investigating the Sirius Black case for a long time, and this letter is to update you on the situation.

In good time, Heir, you were ultimately correct in your suspicions about the case. Yesterday your uncle's trial took place, and after a gruelling cross-examination, veritaserum and the Minister's demand to use the <uocen palmis> to summon Mr and Mrs Potter as their final memorials, a verdict was delivered. So in a few days you will receive a letter from a wizard and a psychomagician, telling you more about your uncle's mental health, and you will also have to decide who will look after him from now on, because he needs a permanent escort while this settles in magical society.

I suggest you start planning what you will do when  " The Prophet " , and everyone else, brings the story to light.

Sincerely, Amelia Bones.

Draco reread the letter one more time before realising that he had just gotten a prisoner out of Azkaban by legal means, without his parents even suspecting it.

He glanced at his friends, who were watching him with varying levels of interest, while the rest ignored him completely or partially. He was thankful that he was one of the few who would recognise the hallmark, as that was something that was commonly only used among close friends or family.

—Later.

That was all he said before tucking the letter away between the pages of a journal that would only open to his magical signature. No one insisted, though everyone was curious about the mysterious letter, even more so after seeing the surprise in the normally neutral silver eyes.

They had the rest of the afternoon free, but they already had Potions homework, so they all went to the common room, in an unspoken agreement to get it out of the way as soon as possible.

Chapter Text

"At midnight".

The first flying lesson was the most anticipated for every first year, for some because they wanted to learn, others because they already knew and wanted to fly again. Harry was in the first group, nervous to the core, but excited beyond the cosmos.

Draco cooed at him when Potter told him this, teasing him all day in a baby voice that made the boy's cheeks blush redder and redder.

They had a shared class with Gryffindor for a change (apparently). And though they were more than on time, the lions arrived with the same teacher. If Draco wanted to look impressed, he wouldn't succeed.

The blond still caught himself looking for the golden trio from time to time, when the essential part of them was by his side, usually.

Madame Hooch entered the camp and her amber eyes watched them all like an eagle. She looked quite serious, though it never showed with her teachers.

— What are you waiting for? —She said—, Each of you is next to a broom. Quickly.

Draco turned his gaze back to his broom, grimacing at how rickety the sweeper was. To this day he didn't understand why they didn't maintain them, they were extremely dangerous in that state.

—Stretch out your right hand on the broom. —She ordered, starting down the corridor between the two houses—. And shout 'up'.

There was a group shout and the blond watched as Harry's broom, his, Finnigan's and a couple of other pairs of brooms voluntarily took to the air. The chosen one gave him an excited smile, Draco nodded his head approvingly.

Others, on the other hand, were not so lucky.

It was a matter of a few more attempts until everyone had their brooms in their hands. The teacher walked from end to end of the line again, correcting the posture or the way they were holding the broom. This time the teacher had nothing to correct.

—Very good, now you'll kick hard. —Madame Hooch instructed—. Hold the brooms steady, rise a few feet and then gently bend down. On the count of three...two....

Draco flinched when he heard Longbottom take off early.

The teacher and everyone else screamed, but Draco couldn't look away from the boy's frightened face, and inevitably remembered his Aunt Bellatrix, mocking what he had done to his parents.

— Professor, do something!

The blond was almost shaking at this point, the image of his aunt torturing a couple, with a small baby nearby, playing over and over in his head. Draco gasped, not quite sure why, a choked "Harry," as if the black-haired boy could do anything.

Which, it seemed, was possible. Harry, seeing his friend's nervous state, knew he had to move and do something since Draco seemed to be on the verge of collapse. And when he heard what sounded like a plea, he did the first thing that came to his mind.

He jumped on his broom and flew quickly towards Longbottom, diving after him when the boy fell. He caught him cleanly, before landing cleanly on the ground.

— HARRY POTTER!

He looked towards where the voice came from, and saw Professor McGonagall and Madame Hooch running towards where they had landed. Further back were all the boys, looking at him with varying levels of astonishment, but the look that stuck with him the most was Draco's look of relief.

Well, it had been worth it, even if they ended up expelling him for this.

—I've never... in all my time at Hogwarts...

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, even her glasses seemed to be sparkling with fury.

— How dare you...? You could have broken your neck...

The teacher looked as if she would go on ranting, but Professor Hooch stepped forward, resting her hand on the boy's shoulder.

—In all my years of teaching, I have never, ever in my life, witnessed such naturalness in flying. Have you ever done it before, kid?

Harry denied, fervently. He hoped she could get him out of this mess.

The woman smiled, pushing his shoulder forward a little, beginning to lead him down the corridors. Professor McGonagall followed them, still muttering about irresponsibility, but Madame Hooch wasn't even paying attention. They reached the DCAO classroom.

By the time Harry got back to the Slytherin common room, almost the entire first year was preoccupied, with Pansy pacing back and forth in the couch area, Theodore fiddling with his book instead of reading it, Millicent and Daphne playing with Tracey's hair, who was on the verge of biting her nails. Crabbe and Goyle were staring at their sweets without daring to touch them, their stomachs twisting.

Blaise had one hand on Draco's neck, massaging it, and the blond hadn't taken his eyes off the door. While he thought he knew what was going on, he wasn't above worrying. The two missing people had been called by Edrick.

By the time the chosen one had set foot in the room, he was already being dragged out by a very upset Pansy Parkinson. Harry was wringing his fingers, not quite sure what to expect. But if he could expect anything, it wouldn't be a tight group hug. Draco just patted his head, not moving from the couch. No one said anything, because everyone knew the blond wasn't too fond of physical affection.

—Well, speak up! Did you get expelled? Will you leave?—Pansy shrieked, once everyone was seated in a circle. Harry was still sitting on the floor, next to the blond's legs—. I'll talk to my father, see if there's anything he can do to stop them from doing it-

— Right! We could move our contacts, Harry. —Blaise joined the conversation, still nuzzling Draco's neck—. We won't let you leave.

The brunet melted a little, pure affection floating from his pores for his friends. Draco put a hand in his hair, stroking it slowly. Harry snuggled into his leg, enjoying the odd cuddle moment.

—I didn't get expelled, guys... But I thank you for your concern. I really do. —He opened his eyes to look at them as he gave them the news—. Madame Hooch took me to Flint... —a Cheshire cat-like grin began to form on his lips, as his classmates gasped, understanding what the boy was about to say—. I start training as a Seeker next week...

—You're joking. —Theo said, straightening up in his chair. Blaise agreed, still with his mouth hanging open almost comically. Harry denied.

—No, I'm not. Flint said that if Madame Hooch had that much faith in me, then I should be tested. I was up against Terence Higgs a while ago, I earned my place... somehow.

— That's amazing, Harry! —exclaimed Daphne, clapping her hands. An impressed look from Millicent showed how much she agreed.

—The youngest player in a century...— Draco spoke, in a neutral tone. The others looked at him, wondering how he would react to that, considering how much the blond loved Quidditch. A lopsided smile formed on his lips—. That's the coolest thing I've heard today... But how could it not be? Quidditch is in your blood.

The others frowned, not understanding, so Harry crawled over to look at Draco a lot better, without getting a pain in the neck.

— What do you mean?

—Your father was a great hunter.

There was a group gasp, and Harry felt his eyes sting. That was the first real, personal information about his parents, since beyond Hagrid's babbling and some comment about his eyes, he had nothing. The blond understood immediately, rising to his feet.

—Come, I'll show you what I'm talking about.

He led them all into a room of glass cases, where there were various plaques, photographs, medals and other awards. Draco pointed to one in particular, where Harry's father's name was mentioned. The dark-haired boy looked at it, teary-eyed, as Draco rubbed his back, and the others stood silently around him, respecting the moment.

—He would have been very proud of you, Harry. —the dark-haired child turned and hugged Draco, who wrapped his arms gently around him, still staring at the plates. He hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that what he was saying was real.

When the moment had dissipated some of the sentimentality, and everyone began to walk back to the common room, one of the prefects arrived in search of the girls. And as they were leaving, Draco thought he was forgetting something extremely important, something that was supposed to happen.

He didn't have long to think about it, because halfway down the corridor, he found his answer. Harry and Weasley accidentally bumped into each other, and the blond understood what was missing.

—Watch where you're going. —Draco rolled his eyes, and that detail didn't seem to go unnoticed by the boy, who took two strides to stand face to face. Draco arched both eyebrows at the outburst—. Something to add, Malfoy?

Weasley was pushed aside by a shove from Goyle, and had Crabbe facing him now. Draco stepped back, where an amused Blaise and a confused Theo were waiting for him. Harry was still glaring at the redhead.

— Brave of you to hide behind two elephants!

—I could find you anywhere, Weasley. —he growled, without much thought.

—We'll see you tonight then, in a magical duel... Or are you a coward who hides behind cheap excuses, like your father? 

Draco watched as Vincent began to clench his fists, ready to solve the problem. The blond reached out one of his hands, to stop him, and faced Weasley.

—Tonight, midnight, in the trophy room. Bring someone who cares about saving you, weasel.

Before the red-head could say anything, Draco continued on his way. Hearing several footsteps behind him.

Harry was the first to catch up with him.

— What happened to the composure thing?

The blond let out a chuckle, amused by the insightful question.

—Nothing, Potty. I'm not going, it was just to get him to leave us alone.

The blond opened his mouth in disbelief.

— You can't do that, Heir Malfoy! —Theodore shrieked, mockingly. Blaise seconded him, hilariously—. Magical duels are like a pact, you have to go. Besides, I don't want to hear Weasley squeal about cowardice, not really in this lifetime.

The blond narrowed his eyes, but eventually gave in to the stubborn stares of the three of them. Crabbe and Goyle were silently following them.

—Fine. Potter, you'll be my second... and yes, I'll explain to you what a magical duel is and what your role is, but right now I want to get to the Slytherin room, thank you very much.

— ࿐*:･ﾟ

It was half an hour before midnight, so he and Harry slipped out of the common room, already on their way to the duel. They were trying to be as quiet as possible, bearing in mind that if they were caught sneaking out, it wouldn't just be a point deduction they would get.

They were halfway through, when they heard some unsubtle breathing, and then Filch's voice. Both boys looked at each other before running away, between the shifting corridors they abruptly bumped into a redhead, a brunette and a frightened boy. They locked eyes for a second before the slytherins remembered why they were running in the first place, dragging the lions with them, running up stairs and turning between intricate corridors. It didn't take Draco long to know where they were running to: the third floor.

They passed Peeves, but they ran far away as well. They came to a closed door, which was quickly opened by a swift alohomora from the blond. They rushed in, closing the door immediately and leaning against it. They held their breath caught in their throats, until they were sure there was no noise nearby. Somehow they missed the warden.

Draco felt his robes being tugged, so he turned partially in that direction, Neville Longbottom's pale face making him worry, staring at where his eyes were fixed: a huge dog, with three large heads, angry triplet stares. Saliva dripped from its snouts, and there was a constant growl. The blond was impressed, but not frightened, not that he couldn't see the trapdoor under one of the large hound's paws.

It took two seconds for the others to turn around and see the dog as well. Draco pulled out his wand and opened the door with a flourish, the children ran out, while the blond cast silencing spells at their feet, cursing under his breath for the children's carelessness. They reached the top of the stairs, immediately darting into one of the empty classrooms.

— What was that! —shrieked the red-haired boy, clutching his hair, his voice trembling with fear.

Granger was pacing from one place to the next, while Longbottom kept swaying nervously in the corner. Harry was staring at his feet, eyes wild, looking so disturbed that Draco felt nauseous. He took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Harry looked up at him, stepping a little closer, the mask of indifference he'd been creating these days wrapping around his features. The blond had noticed, days before, that Harry functioned best when in physical contact. 

— Why would they have that at school? —shrieked, the red-haired boy's voice, again.

The chestnut stopped suddenly, looking at them all with wild eyes.

— Don't you guys use your eyes or what? —she snapped, angrily.

The blond cocked his head to one side, Weasley said something back, but he paid no attention. Longbottom stepped closer to the group.

— Didn't you see where he was standing?

Draco smiled sideways, taking a step closer, to get a better look at everyone.

— The floor? —Neville muttered.

—I wasn't looking at his paws, there were three rabid heads there! —continued Weasley.

—No — Draco spoke, making eye contact with Granger—, Not the floor. There was a trap door, the Cerberus is doing the same thing as in mythology: it's watching something.

The girl nodded, less annoyed to see that someone was paying attention to the surroundings and not just the imminent danger. A few minutes later, Draco was politely waving goodbye, suggesting they get to their common room as soon as possible.

The group separated, the two snakes walking silently until they reached their room. They both settled down to sleep, still not saying a word. Draco worried a little, but let it be. Everyone had things to keep to themselves.

But it was the next morning when she realised that Harry Potter didn't seem to want to keep secrets, at least not between the two of them. They had already arranged to go up to the dining room, but Harry wanted to talk to him alone. 

—When I went to Gringotts the first time... Hagrid took something out of a vault, saying it would be much safer at Hogwarts. And I think I know where it is. —he said.

Draco frowned, deep in thought. Normally he wouldn't get involved, but something told him this was important.

—Well, we'll do some research on this.

The black-haired man nodded, smiling eagerly at Draco.

—That something must be valuable, right?

The blond arched his eyebrows, grinning—. Valuable and dangerous.

Chapter Text

"All Hallows Eve."

It was Halloween morning when Draco realised that he had already spent two long months at Hogwarts. After the escapade, not much else happened, they tried to stick to the rules as much as possible, passing the days between classes, homework and watching Harry train for Quidditch.

Occasionally, they would cross paths with Granger, Weasley or Longbottom, but conversations were limited. The growing tension between the red-headed boy and Harry was becoming increasingly annoying to Draco. Although he didn't quite know what he should do in such cases, the blond refrained from getting involved in arguments between acquaintances. He preferred to let them work out their problems on their own.

However, he had to remind himself that Harry and Weasley weren't real friends. At least not in this context.

Meanwhile, Longbottom seemed to be growing more and more at ease with them, which left Draco unsure how to respond. They had met on several occasions as they were both purebloods and their families had many connections. However, the blond opted to subtly influence the boy. He and Harry would meet once a week to do homework and Draco would clear up any questions they had. Over time, Hermione grew closer to the trio, though she still seemed to disapprove of their affair.

Draco was puzzled by her decision to do so; clearly it was harder to capture one than three, but it was her choice. 

The lesson on incantations was straightforward for him, like all the others. Furthermore, Draco was earning points consistently, executing all the required spells expertly for his instructors. When his friends expressed their admiration for his prowess, the blonde simply shrugged his shoulders.

It is not possible for him to explain that he is already familiar with all the material they will cover within the next six years. 

Hermione Granger may resent him a little more for doing all that. The teachers ceased to solely rely on the girl, allowing other students to participate and contribute to the class discussions. 

They attempted to integrate students who could not answer as well. The girl only responded when there was confusion amongst the rest of the class.

This day was a very important one for Harry, as it was the anniversary of his parents' death. The blonde had spoken to his uncle days before and managed to get a picture of Lily and James Potter when they were still at Hogwarts. Senior year, perhaps.

Although he had encountered difficulties finding an opportune moment to present it to him, due to his timetable, and desired privacy when doing so. Amidst his lunch break, a letter arrived, delivered by a distinctive bird. The blonde smiled. He could not help it.

His friends still looked at the boy suspiciously whenever that happened, because Draco hadn't explained much about the sender of each letter, and Harry always got a little awkward and distant when they all discussed it behind the blonde's back.

We all had secrets. If Draco didn't want to talk about it, why force him to?

Dear Draco, how are things going?

 

I'm writing to you because today is not a good day for me... but I guess you already know that. This is almost a venting letter, and since you and Remus are the only ones I'm allowed to talk to right now, and I know he's bad enough as it is, I'm coming to you to talk about it.

 

I miss them every day, and it's getting worse. Knowing that I could have prevented it, that if I had been the carer they would still be alive. They would still be there for me, lecturing me when I do stupid things or laughing with me at the most idiotic things. To support me when I feel like the world is falling apart... to tell me what an idiot I am for not moving on with Remus (although you do that very well, Draco, I won't deny it).

 

I feel guilty for not looking after them. For not being there. I feel like it's my fault that Harry doesn't know his parents, that if I had been his guardian, he wouldn't have had to live with those horrible Muggles [...].

Draco, who was beginning to feel a lump in his throat, frowned. Muggleborns?

He looked up and focused on the black-haired boy in front of him, talking to Crabbe about who knew what. Pansy elbowed him, trying to see the letter.

The blonde pressed the note to his chest.

— Do you know what privacy is, Parkinson? —he hissed, muttering, his face blank—. Stay out of my business next time.

Harry shot her a curious look and Draco shook his head. Daphne nudged the blackhead lightly, silently scolding her for her audacity.

I wish I could see him, talk to him... To know what he looks like, is he like Lily or James?, does he like chocolate or vanilla?, how is he doing at school, is he any good?, what about Quidditch?

 

 

I know these are stupid questions, and you could answer them without hesitation, but it's... It would be different talking to him, you know?

 

 

Anyway, if you could tell me those things, I'd be happier.

 

As for the other things you asked me about, Remus is on it. There are a few legal things we need to finalise, but he should have everything ready by the beginning of next year. We also went to Gringotts, and as we've already found out, Harry is the Potter Lord by right, but he has a few other titles. And even inheritances from other families who had no one to give them to and ended up giving them to the 'benevolent hero'.

 

 

We are checking his accounts, his property and everything that was done in his name when he was not present or in a position to authorise it, including the history books that you yourselves study.

 

 

One last thing, before you rush to answer me as you are wont to do, the Ministry sent a letter yesterday informing us that my release will be published in The Prophet tomorrow. There will be no mention of you, as you requested, but I would advise you to be prepared anyway, you may hear things you won't like and I don't want you to feel bad.

 

 

Love, your fabulous uncle, Sirius.

 

 

PS: Remus sends his love, he wants to meet you and thank you personally (send him a letter, please).

He wrinkled his nose fondly, tucking the burden into his diary. He looked at Harry, who stood up quickly, the Jet following him out of inertia at the sight of him. Crabbe and Goyle could read between the lines, so a single glance from Draco was enough to keep them from moving from where they were. 

They ran until they reached an empty room. Draco still didn't know why there were so many unused rooms.

— What happened Draco, are you all right?

The blonde took a parcel out of his pocket, it was the size of a book, so it wasn't a problem. The boy frowned and opened it carefully. But his composure vanished when he saw part of the picture.

He tore the paper away and looked at the moving image. His parents were smiling at the camera, looking so young and happy. James had a hand around Lily's waist as she leaned against his shoulder.

The first tears came spontaneously and the blonde was there quickly, hugging him from the side and resting his head on Harry's shoulder. He let him cry, clinging to the painting with trembling hands. He knew this was something important, something that needed to happen.

—I wanted to tell you that there's... a ritual for Halloween that you might be interested in. —The green-eyed boy looked at him curiously—. It's to 'communicate' with the ones we've lost, a way to keep them close on such important dates, an unbreakable family bond in the magical community... Well, the part of it that is interested in preserving the old wizarding community and not just rebuilding it for the Muggle-borns.

The jet-haired man smiled at him.

—Oh, and one more thing. —Draco was a little nervous this time. With a flick of his wand and a murmur, he cast a privacy spell so that no unwary eavesdroppers would be able to hear—. This is more complicated, and I don't want you to... er, get angry with me. In the month before school started, I did some research on my family tree and came up with some... controversial names. One in particular caught my attention because it had been crossed out, disowned and considered a traitor. Sirius Orion Black, he betrayed his family for his friends and moved into the Potter house when he was sixteen. —Harry sat up and Draco made him sit down while he went around explaining everything—. At the outbreak of the Second Wizarding War, it was very clear that he was against the Death Eaters and not in favour of dark magic... He, along with your father and others, openly stood up to the Dark Lord, facing him on three separate occasions and coming out of all three alive.

Harry was on the edge of his seat, an embracing warmth running through his body, nervous yet excited to learn more about his father, even if he hadn't yet connected the dots as to why Black was important.

—Sirius Black was your father's best friend, along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, and when there was talk that the One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was searching for the child born at the end of July... You and your parents had to hide, so the Fidelio charm was used to conceal where you would be, and you would have a guardian who was the only one who could reveal the exact location... —The blonde took a breath and rubbed her hands on her trousers, trying to release the tension—. For years it was believed that Black was the Guardian and that he betrayed your parents, but when I was investigated, —Draco paused in front of Harry, who stood up with an angry expression on his face. The blonde shook his head and made him sit back down—. I found loopholes everywhere and I contacted Amelia Bones to find out what had happened. Because he hadn't had a proper trial, so... It happened, about two months ago, he was found not guilty after he was given Veritaserum and your parents' souls were briefly summoned to find out the truth. Sirius wasn't the Guardian, he hadn't accepted that because it was so obvious, they needed someone else, someone no one would think of...

Harry cried again and the blonde made his heart sink to continue.

—Peter Pettigrew was the Guardian, Harry, he betrayed your parents and framed Sirius for it, because of him Sirius Black lived in Azkaban for ten years... Sirius Black, who is your godfather, your rightful guardian.

The Chosen One stood up, this time starting to walk himself. Draco could see something dark in those beautiful, usually clear green eyes. He waited in silence until the boy turned to him and hugged him tightly.

—Thank you for telling me, Draco. And thank you for getting him out of there... I can't repay you, ever.

The blonde hugged him back, letting a few tears fall. He had been so nervous and stressed about losing Harry because he hadn't been honest, and he hadn't even known it could come to this, not when life without Potter's friendship had been a daily occurrence.

—I want to find Pettigrew, and I want him alive so he can rot in Azkaban like Sirius almost did.

Draco broke away, the Jet gently wiping the tears from his face. They looked at each other intently for several seconds.

—I want you to make friends with Weasley... We need his family's pet rat.

Potter had let go when he heard the request, scowling at him with an annoyed expression.

—But he's mean to you, Draco. How can he be your friend like that?

The blonde felt his insides melt a little, a soft smile appearing on his lips. Those words and the forest green's sincere look made him feel cared for and loved.

He would cherish this friendship forever.

—Eat your heart out, Harry. Sirius told me that Peter was an Animagus. —The kid with black hair stopped looking offended and frowned in confusion, the blonde smiled slightly and made a new gesture in the air—. An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can transform into an animal. Even when transformed, they retain human thought and reason. Although they do not speak, of course.

Once the blonde had made sure Harry had fully understood his explanation, he became more serious.

—They haven't explained how they found out the Weasleys' rat was him, but I trust them, Harry. —He searched the other's gaze, eyes wide and sincere for the boy who lived. Harry couldn't say no, and it began to sink in that Draco Malfoy had great power over him—. And the Weasley boy doesn't want me around... Instead, you, the great Harry James Potter, can convince him. That, and there's no rivalry between your families.

Harry still looked rather reluctant, his mouth twisted into a rather ugly grimace, as if he had sucked on a particularly sour lemon. Still, he nodded and reached out to hug his best friend again. Draco let him, resting his head on the boy's shoulder.

—I don't promise to be patient enough, I'm very new to this whole manipulative snake thing. —The blonde gave an affectionate chuckle and squeezed him a little tighter before letting him go. Harry pouted—. But I'll get that rat... By hook or by crook.

The blond shuddered as he saw that shadow in the enchanted forest again. He knew a dark plot was brewing there, fuelled by anger, hatred, betrayal and a thirst for revenge.

Draco nodded, pulled out the Silence Charm and headed for the door, Harry behind him. He was in the corridor when Draco decided to check the time, realising that they had missed part of their first lesson, so there was no point in trying to go, but waiting in the library and getting ahead on homework never hurt. Besides, he still had to explain the Ritual of Souls to Harry and show him Sirius's letter to answer his questions.

—࿐*:･ﾟ

By dinner time, Harry had already lost his desire to be friends with the redheaded boy, as he was still glaring hatefully at the blonde, and Harry had learned that he could be very protective of those he loved, and Draco was high on his esteemed list. The boy was becoming a real pain, but he had already given Draco his word, and getting Pettigrew was more important than Weasley's stupid attitude.

With that in mind, he stood outside the doors of the Great Hall, waiting patiently. Neville had told him that the red-haired boy was nearby when he greeted him, but he had denied knowing where Hermione was, assuring him that he hadn't seen her since Charmed, which was pretty much since lunch.

Ronald Weasley stopped at the sight of him, and next to him, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Harry arched his eyebrows as he approached, not the least bit intimidated by being alone and obviously outnumbered. He shot a dark glare at the two intruders, who seemed quite intelligent as they quickly excused themselves, leaving them alone.

—So, Weasley, I wanted to talk to you. —Harry began, and passing over the boy's incredulous expression. He offered his hand—, I want a truce, no more glum looks, no more mean comments, no more fighting. Just peace… And maybe to be friends.

The red-haired boy frowned, and Harry prayed for a little patience.

— Friends? You and me? —Harry nodded, his hand still firmly between them. Passers-by looked at them curiously, but no one lingered for fear of the reprisals the older snakes might take against them—. But you're Malfoy's friend, and you're angry with me because of him!

Harry began to feel his jaw creak from the pressure he was putting on himself by holding back. He didn't like the way he was talking about his best friend.

—You were rude to him, you know that, don't you? Or would you have liked him to laugh at your family like everyone else?

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but closed it as soon as he remembered that Draco Malfoy was actually one of the few people who hadn't laughed at him because of the state of his clothes or his family. He stirred uncomfortably as he realised.

—But his father is-

—I know, you told me. But that doesn't excuse you. —Potter pulled his hand away and rubbed his temples—. Draco is not his father, any more than you are your brothers. Don't do what you don't want done to you, Weasley.

The boy looked down at his dirty shoes for a few seconds, then looked up at the Boy-Who-Lived and pressed his lips tightly together in a pale line. He held out his own hand in embarrassment.

Harry let the corners of his lips curl a little and shook his hands.

—Still… Can we meet without him, even for now?

Harry had to stop himself from making a rude comment, instead he smiled, hoping to look sympathetic as he nodded.

—Fine, but you'll have to apologise to him for teasing him.

The redhead nodded, a look of horror in his eyes at the prospect. Harry ignored it for the sake of his plan, nodding as he walked away from the boy. While the boy had endeared himself to him at the beginning, on this long journey Harry wasn't beyond choosing who to talk to, and if Draco didn't ask him to, he didn't know if he could live with someone like Weasley. Not with the past he had.

He sat down next to the blonde who was enjoying his meal as Daphne told him about an event they had to go to as soon as school was out, Draco looked at him, his cheeks slightly puffed from the food and Harry felt his stomach flip with affection. He nodded and Draco mimicked the gesture, turning his attention back to the blonde.

Once seated at his table, the boy was able to take in the decorations in the Great Hall. There were over a thousand bats hanging from the walls and ceiling, while another thousand flew between the tables, looking like black clouds, and the thousands of pumpkins floating around the place, with candles flickering inside, swayed from the passage of the animals. Harry was in awe, so much so that if he hadn't had to help himself to food he would have missed Lily Moon telling Sally and Millicent that Hermione Granger was crying in the bathroom, soon the comment about being a second Myrtle flew, but Harry wasn't sure what it meant, or if he really cared.

Draco turned to look at him and they both stood up, saying goodbye to their friends, saying they had to get some things ready for the Ritual of the Souls. They understood, but found it a bit odd that they had left their meals behind. Draco quickly sorted it out, asking Blaise to save some for them and take it to their rooms later.

They left quickly, and might have run away if they weren't Slytherins.

They reached the bathroom, and after a morality debate of about five seconds, they went in. Sobbing from one of the stalls told them exactly where the girl was. Draco approached the door and knocked quietly.

— Leave me alone! —He heard her sobbing and the blonde wrinkled his nose. He didn't like girls crying, not in his past life, not now and probably not in the future. It made him think of his mother being sad, and that was something that always broke his heart.

—Granger, it's us… We were afraid we wouldn't see you when we heard you were here. —The sobs had died down a little, but the hiccups and sniffling nose were still there—. What had happened?

The door opened to reveal the girl with red eyes, cheeks and nose. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks. Harry offered her a hand and she took it, turning the simple contact into a tight hug. Harry gave the blonde a worried look over the girl's head, but Draco just shrugged.

—Talk to us, we can help. —Harry suggested, rubbing circles on his back.

—Unless you want to hit Weasley, there's not much you can do.

—I'd like to hit him. —Harry assured her immediately, and Draco let out a snort to hide his laughter. Granger, on the other hand, was clearly laughing.

Draco moved a little closer to the door and wrinkled his nose.

—Something's coming… And it stinks.

Both Harry and Granger turned to look at him in confusion. Draco quickly stepped back, putting them both behind his back. He immediately remembered what had happened on that Halloween. The three children were trapped in the last sink, with the blonde in front of them.

The door flew apart and managed to hit Draco on the cheek. The lioness let out a frightened scream as Harry pulled her closer, trying to hide her better.

The blond raised his wand and aimed it at the creature, causing ropes to bind the troll. The kids jumped as it fell. Draco didn't wait a second before casting a stun spell. There was silence for a minute, then the girl sobbed again. Harry put his arms around her and she hugged him and Draco desperately.

Harry looked a little pale too, but Draco could only see the ugly creature lying on the floor. With a small Leviosa, he levitated the hammer away, just in case. Just as he was about to turn and try to calm the girl, he heard footsteps. He raised his wand without thinking, but drew back at the sight of the teachers, who looked unsettled by the scene.

Snape took a few steps forward, seeing two of his students and a girl on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His eyes narrowed as he looked from the unconscious troll to his godson.

— What on earth were they thinking?  —Professor McGonagall said, her anger much more controlled this time, even cold. Harry looked at Draco, who still had his wand in his hand, more than alert, as if expecting something else to come out of nowhere and try to attack them—. You're lucky I didn't kill them, why aren't they in their dormitories?

Draco was still standing firmly between them and the teachers, so the children decided to stand beside him and face the problems. Hermione Granger sighed, Professor Snape's icy stare making her hair stand on end.

—They were looking for me.

—Miss Granger! —The professor shouted in shock, making Snape frown even more.

—Professor, if I may? —The blonde said, receiving an immediate nod from her—. We heard from our classmates that Granger was crying here, and we were worried because we hadn't seen her since Herbology. We were looking for her, so we didn't know there was a troll. We're sorry.

Harry looked down, as did Draco and Granger. The teacher nodded, reassured by the knowledge that the students had not gone looking for the creature on their own, but Snape would not let go so easily.

—If you don't mind, Miss Granger, could you tell us what made you cry? And why no one from your house told a teacher or stayed with you...— the teacher's hissing voice made the girl bristle all over—. I mean, since Gryffindor is the most united house, don't you think that's strange, Minerva?

The teacher blushed at the words and took a hesitant step away. Hermione raised her head, expecting the professor's usual dark, contemptuous stare, but it wasn't there; in fact, he seemed to like her. That gave her courage.

—Weasley was… cruel today, more than usual. And it was too much, I'm sorry, teachers, I-

—Don't apologise for other people's actions, Miss Granger. —The teacher hastened to speak, holding out a hand—. We'll talk more about this in private, if you'd like to come with me?

The girl nodded and hugged her rescuers again. Before leaving, however, the head of the lion house turned back to the little snakes.

—You were very brave and loyal, qualities I hold dear. Not to mention the mastery with which they handled themselves in the face of danger. Fifty points for Slytherin.

When only the members of Salazar's house were left in the room and Quirrell, who seemed on the verge of collapse, was watching the troll, Snape spoke.

—Professor, deal with the creature. I will take my students to their common room.

Without waiting for a response, the teacher left the bathroom, followed closely by Harry and Draco. Halfway down the corridor, the teacher spoke.

—I give you twenty extra points, Mr. Malfoy, for paying attention even when the danger was removed.

Both boys looked at each other with beaming smiles, not expecting this at all.

Chapter Text

"It's ridiculous."

Arriving in the common room, the sight of them intact elicited looks and sighs of relief, easing the previously tense atmosphere considerably. Pansy's excited cry at the sight of Draco's bleeding cheek startled him, but Snape quickly handed him a potion to drink. Hissing at the sensation of the potion burning his cheek, he quickly wiped the blood away, only to find that the wound had disappeared. Draco let out a sigh.

As they recounted their recent experiences, Draco and Harry ignored the subtle stares they received for pursuing a Muggleborn. After enjoying a delicious feast, they retired to their room where Draco complained about life's bad luck, setting things up for a little ritual. It was simple, just the image of the Potters, an arrangement of lilies and two candles engraved with special symbols.

Harry sat where Draco had asked him to sit, feeling an intensified connection to his magic at that moment. He knew he would have to consult the blond at length about this tradition later.

The boy placed the lit candles next to the painting and then received a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.

—Talk to them all you want, Harry. —He shook his hair, giving a final bow to the picture of his friend's parents. Call me when you're ready and I can go to bed.

The dark-haired young man suppressed a lump in his throat and heard the door close behind him. He felt tears welling up and the situation felt intense, surpassing his expectations.

—Hi mum, hi dad.... That boy who left is my best friend, I'd love to introduce you to them.... I'd love to meet them myself, I really would, —he let out a watery laugh, playing with his fingers, gently pinching the skin—. I'm in Slytherin, I hope that doesn't disappoint or upset you, I'll be playing Quidditch too, as a Seeker! Does that make you proud? I hope so.

Wiping away the falling tears, the flames moved, flickering. Harry smiled sadly, knowing that was all he could get from his parents.

—I found out today that I have a godfather and an uncle. Also about the betrayal. Believe me, I'm not going to let that rat get away with it. He'll pay for what he did to you, for what he did to Sirius... For what he did to me. —He shook his head, that wasn't something he wanted to talk about right now—. I hope I can go and live with my godfather, I'm sure that's what you'd want, because I hate your mother's family. They're horrible... I'm sorry but they treated me very badly. I want to know what it's like to live in a loving place that feels like home, to feel that connection with them. I want to live like a normal kid... Although only my housemates here see me as a normal kid. I'm kind of a celebrity, although I don't know how I did what I did.... It's weird. Everything here is, but I should get used to it. I should also write a letter to Sirius, like Draco asked me to. I promise I'll get along with him and behave myself.

He gave a broken laugh and when the candle flickered once more, swaying in the air, it shattered. He wept for a long time, his spectacles had flown to the ground.

He craved desperately to experience what having parents and celebrating important occasions such as birthdays, Christmas, and many others together felt like. He yearned to converse with both of them, to sense the feeling of being cared for unconditionally by two individuals. He gazed at his friend's bed, the boy who always seemed to mock him, but ultimately expressed his anxiety through numerous small gestures.

Perhaps he too could benefit from such companionship. He then contemplated Neville and Hermione. Sirius... Perhaps he was not entirely on his own, and he had people who were concerned about him.

—I'll talk to you again in Yule, Draco says the magic is purest then. —he saw the flame flicker and then flicker twice more before it flickered out completely.

He wiped his tears carefully, rubbing the glass of his glasses to remove any moisture that might remain on them. She got up and ran up the stairs. Sometimes it was fun to know he was so far down the school, but there were also times when it was creepy. Right now it was between the two of them, so he hurried to his friend.

—࿐*:･ﾟ

The following day, as soon as they both got up, Harry and Draco sent their letter to Sirius and Remus. They used Aquila, Draco's eagle owl to deliver two to Sirius and one to Remus. After that, they hurriedly got dressed. Harry wanted to see Hermione, and Draco was worried about Granger too, despite denying it.

However, he struggled with his current best friend, which made him feel uneasy, given their past interactions. Nevertheless, watching Harry fix his tie brought a smile to his face.

As Harry noticed him watching, he responded with an even brighter grin. They both got dressed, but Draco stopped on the stairs. Harry looked at him in confusion, but Draco didn't notice.

Today, news would be released about Sirius. Whilst he wasn't directly involved in the article, he was still part of the family. He felt nervous, knowing that Harry, who is Sirius's godson, would also be mentioned.

Harry grabbed his hand and gave him an instant comfort. He smiled helplessly, feeling a sense of relief at having support.

He squeezed the boy's hand and walked up the last stretch that separated them from the common room. There were still few students in the common room, but given the time of day, that was hardly surprising. They barely acknowledged each other with a quick glance before everyone moved on.

They waited for the other members of their year, who were sitting on the sofa talking quietly.

—Hagrid invited us to tea, do you want to...?

The blonde tipped his head to one side, he knew Harry went on these dates with the half-giant quite often, but this was the first time he had actually joined in. He finally nodded, a smile creeping across his lips.

—Sure, Harry. I'd love to join you.

The brunet smiled, put his arm around the boy's shoulders and snuggled in. That's how the girls found them when they came up from their rooms. They cooed mockingly and settled in for a hug as well. Draco scurried away, leaving Harry to sink into it alone. Then the boys went upstairs and they could finally go to breakfast.

It was pretty quiet at first, but by the middle of breakfast, with the dining hall partially packed with students, the mail arrived. Various owls and eagles delivered letters, parcels and newspapers. It was the latter that got Draco's nerves on edge, even though he didn't even blink when it happened.

He knew exactly when the story had reached the students. The muttering was loud and clear, the saucy looks flying back to where they were. He sighed and looked at Harry apologetically, but the boy just smiled at him.

Blaise watched them closely and held out his hand, a newspaper in it. Draco took it, frowning at the front page. Well, at least the picture wasn't of Sirius being locked up.

«  FREE DEATH EATER?

Sirius Black, the infamous wizard who allegedly betrayed the Potters in the past, has been released from prison. But was Black really a dark wizard and a traitor?

Over the past few months, Chief Auror Amelia Bones has been taking an in-depth look at Black's case, delving into his history from his school days to the Second Wizarding War.

The Chief Auror has conducted an exhaustive investigation into Black's case over the past few months, starting from his school days right up to the Second Magical War.  " It was an exhaustive investigation because no one wanted to talk about it or give him the fair trial he was entitled to ."  said Ms Bones, who seemed a little irritated by the Ministry's negligence.  " In the end, I persuaded some senior officials to pay attention to my evidence. The Wizengamont met without delay and, after a few arduous hours, it was confirmed that Sirius Black had been wrongly accused " .

The Ministry's serious blunder led to an innocent person almost losing their life in Azkaban. What actions will Lord Black take? And what are the consequences for the Ministry?

And what will the child-who-lived say when he learns that his godfather was unjustly imprisoned and cut off from his life for so many years?»

 

Draco glanced back at Harry, who was standing up. In pursuit, the blond abandoned his newspaper and sprinted after him. Close behind, he discerned the footsteps of Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom.

They sprinted to an empty classroom, Harry pacing like a caged tiger. If Draco didn't know any better, he would assume that the boy had just found out what was going on. However, he was aware that the boy was attempting to restrain his anger towards the Ministry. He wasn't enraged by the misinformation he may have received. Granger seemed highly stressed and almost on the verge of tears, as if she might cry for Harry if the boy didn't do it soon. Neville appeared nervous, playing with his shirt sleeves and biting his lips so ferociously that Draco felt it begin to hurt.

He watched as Weasley, holding his rat, stroked it with wild eyes. The animal squirmed from time to time. The blond narrowed his eyes and noticed that he had a finger missing.

Damn it, this thing really was Pettigrew. It was disgusting to the naked eye, but knowing what kind of person he was, it made him look even worse.

The redhead caught his gaze, and maybe he misinterpreted his look, or maybe he was trying to be nice, but he handed him the rat and Draco took it lazily, resting it against his chest. Harry stopped to look at him, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, and the blonde didn't know whether to run towards him or away from him.

The door opened to reveal Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore, both watching them warily. Harry caught up with Ron's rat, an almost deranged look in his eyes as he made his way towards Snape. Draco fired a mild Desmaius at the rat, earning a horrified look from Weasley and alarmed looks from the others. Harry got everyone's attention again when he spoke.

—That rat... It's an Animagus, professors. —Dumbledore blinked, the unearthly glow in his eyes flickering even more. Snape frowned and drew his wand—. If you could reveal his true form, I would be grateful.

Draco waved his wand again, wordlessly, to block any possible way out. Granger eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. Then, seeing Weasley's intentions, he positioned himself behind his back and grabbed his arms to keep Ron still. He wasn't going to risk using magic on him in front of the authorities.

— Get off me, Malfoy!

Snape seemed to ignore them as he waved his wand, Harry releasing the rat as soon as it began to show its true nature. To the horror of the Gryffindors and teachers, a dreadfully emaciated man emerged. Weasley stopped resisting, choosing instead to grip Draco's chest. The blonde released him when he realised there was no longer any danger on his side and moved away to stand in front of Granger and Longbottom. The two were huddled together, Weasley behind them, the three of them whiter than a sheet. Draco felt particularly sick at the sight of the man.

—Peter Pettigrew... Well, that's interesting. —The Headmaster commented. Snape waved his wand again, binding the man—. I think I'll go in search of the Minister and some Aurors. Severus, take him to my office and look after him while I'm gone.

—Yes, sir. —the teacher bowed his head, looking at Harry with eyes full of more than the usual discomfort, you could almost see the curiosity in them.

Once alone, Harry and Draco held hands as they stood together, hiding them between their robes. They both looked at the lions, who looked stunned, horrified and full of doubt.

— How do you know so many spells? —the girl spoke first, and the blonde wrinkled his nose—. And how do you know how to do them without speaking?

— That's what worries you?! We just saw a rat turn into a man! And that thing slept with me!

Draco felt sorry for him, shuddering as he imagined himself in his place. Harry squeezed his hand, trying to give him some comfort. He took a breath, ready to answer the girl first.

—I know more spells than you because, unlike you, I come from a family of wizards, and unlike Weasley or Longbottom, I've been taught magic for years. And I study hard. —the boy explained, already knowing that he would have to answer this question at some point, so he had come up with a perfect excuse—. And in my family, as in many others, the wands of the ancestors are kept so that I can use them... It's not the same as having one of my own, but it's good practice for anyone.

The girl opened her mouth, but thought better of it. She was talking to someone who probably knew a lot more about magical culture, traditions and facts about purebloods than she did. While one of them had only read about it in books, the other had probably seen it, lived it and heard about it from the paintings of his ancestors.

—And on the other hand, ugh, disgusting, Weasley. I feel so sorry for you.

The redheaded boy looked a little grateful that someone understood his suffering. Longbottom patted him on the shoulder, looking as sick as he was. Harry grimaced as well, all feeling the same horror as Weasley.

They talked for a while, sharing their disgust at the rat, explaining a little more about who it was and why they were calling the Minister of Magic and the Aurors. The most horrified this time was Hermione, who it was and why they had called the Minister of Magic and the Aurors. Neville took courage and joined in the hug, while he and Weasley just stood off to the side, patting each other on the back. They shared a look over the trio's heads and smiled.

Well, maybe this time he could get along with Ron Weasley.

In the end, the five of them went to Hagrid's house that afternoon, with Draco and Harry leading the group. They were getting on regularly due to the tension between Granger and Weasley, who were arguing about everything. Draco was a little surprised that they were getting on so badly, considering they had always been together in his past life. Well, from his outsider's point of view.

Perhaps they had got on badly at first.

Longbottom was silent, too afraid to try and stop them. Both snakes felt a little sorry for him, having to put up with them during lessons and breaks.

The wooden shed was rising in front of them, and Draco wondered vaguely how Hagrid could possibly live comfortably in it. They knocked on the door and were quickly greeted by the furry, happy face of the half-giant.

They entered, the lions looking around, while Draco only needed a quick glance to sit down next to Harry, who was already waving briskly at the man.

— Hagrid! I want you to meet my friends, —the dark haired boy said. Draco unconsciously moved closer to Harry as Fang leapt towards Weasley—.  That's Ron Weasley over there, that's Hermione Granger, the one hiding behind her is Neville Longbottom and this is my best friend, Draco.

One by one they greeted the man as Fang seemed to lose interest in the redhead, looking around before turning to the blonde. Draco shrank further back and Harry instinctively put an arm around him, looking at Fang with icy eyes. He liked Hagrid's dog, but he wasn't pleased to see his friend uncomfortable.

The dog stopped immediately and lay down. Hagrid blinked in shock and turned to the children.

—Nice to meet you, guys... —he began, smiling kindly—. Another Weasley, eh? Behave yourself, boy. —he blushed, and nodded—. And you're Lucius Malfoy's son, aren't you?

Draco looked at him, finding a certain reluctance and contempt in those dark eyes. He salivated mischievously, feeling Harry tense beside him. He nodded.

—Yes, he is.

The half-giant nodded and immediately began chatting with the other boys about lessons and the previous day's altercation. Hermione quickly spoke up though.

—It was really strange, and I don't know if anyone else noticed, but Professor Snape's leg was injured, like a giant bite.

Draco and Harry looked at each other sideways, having talked about it the night before. They both agreed on what might have happened. The blond cleared his throat when he saw that Hagrid was too nervous to say anything.

—It must have been something unimportant, Granger. —he waved his hand in the air when she opened her mouth to protest—. You'd better tell us, Hagrid, how much do you know about the creatures of the forest?

The man looked so relieved that he began to talk and talk about creatures galore, and the subject of Snape was forgotten for a while. He and Harry led the conversation through various creatures, allaying suspicions perfectly, talking about random mythological creatures until they got to the one they were interested in.

Hagrid didn't even notice what was going on, too excited to share his knowledge with the curious children.

— Are you telling me you raised a Cerberus, Hagrid? —Granger shouted, leaning over to him.

— Yes! He's such a cute pup, my little Fluffy. —the man sighed dreamily and they all looked at each other, trying to understand how on earth anyone could give such a terrifying creature such a name.

Weasley opened his mouth, and Draco anticipating that this would ruin everything, kicked him in the shin. The boy looked at him in annoyance, but he shook it off, asking for silence. Miraculously, all three lions complied.

— That's great! —Harry began, smiling brightly—. Can we see him, Hagrid?

—Oh, no, no. I don't have it, I lent it to Dumbledore.

Draco glanced warily at Granger before smiling kindly at Hagrid.

—That's a pity... But you could tell us something about him. I imagine it wasn't easy raising and training him. —both Harry and Draco encouraged him to talk, getting enough information to write a book on the subject, but they didn't stop there, moving on to other creatures until it was too late and they had to get back for dinner.

The children said goodbye to the half-giant and promised to return soon, either together or separately.

When they were far enough away, Granger shrieked and Weasley looked like he was going to jump, while Neville looked worried. Draco and Harry shared a glance.

— Is what he just told us what I think it is?

Draco nodded—, Fluffy is on the third floor, guarding a trapdoor that leads to something of great value. And we know how to calm him down... But if Hagrid tells us without noticing, he could tell anyone who might be able to trick him.

—Snape. —Neville muttered and Hermione nodded, pointing at him.

— That's right! Snape had a huge tooth mark on his leg, he obviously wants to steal whatever Dumbledore keeps there.

Weasley tilted his head slightly and Draco almost saw a light bulb go on.

— What they were trying to steal from Gringotts! —Granger gave him a dubious look, ready for a rebuttal—. No, listen to me, what place would be safer than Gringotts itself? Hogwarts!

Granger nodded, as did Longbottom. The snakes simply watched them as they discussed what it could be and why Snape would want to steal it. Draco shook his head and looked at his friend, who had an apathetic expression on his face.

Neither of them believed that Snape would want something so valuable that it would be meaningless. Besides, Draco knew, the prime suspect was never the culprit.

Chapter Text

“ eraseD. "

The first Quidditch match of the season was about to begin, the doors that let the players in were opening. The snakes stood smiling and proud as the lions gasped and groaned at the sight of Harry Potter in uniform.

Marcus Flint smiled haughtily at the Gryffindor captain as he tried to say something to Madame Hooch, who looked absolutely delighted to see Harry among the green and silver. The lions' complaints died down when Professor Hooch herself barked at Wood who had nominated the boy as seeker.

Soon the match began, everyone cheering for their favorites. Draco realized he almost had a heart attack when a bludger decided to chase Harry, but fortunately Abe Cormac arrived to clean it up and free his seeker. The blond was more nervous about what was going to happen in this first match than the result itself, so he wasn't really paying attention to what the announcer was bragging about, even though he knew it was in Gryffindor's favor.

He saw the golden glow of the Snitch flutter across the Slytherin zone and hit Blaise's shoulder, who exclaimed his surprise, drawing the attention of some of the older students. Harry seemed to see it at the same moment, darting towards it.

—You've got a good eye, Malfoy! —exclaimed Edrick Amery, one of his senior prefects—. You should try out for the team!

The blond laughed uncomfortably, turning his eyes back to Harry. It wasn't really something that was in his plans. He loved flying, and at one point he had loved Quidditch, but at the moment that was just a vague memory. The war and the Dark Lord had extinguished all of that for Draco.

He unconsciously squeezed his forearm, shuddering. His friends looked at him in confusion. Harry decided that this was a good time to pass near the stands and Draco shouted back at him, forgetting his troubles. The green and silver stands leaned forward expectantly as a bludger nearly blew the boy who lived' head. Dodging it and avoiding certain death, Harry had lost sight of the little golden ball. He paused above his head, looking in all directions, as the players began to move again.

Suddenly Harry's broom gave a jolt, sudden and terrifying. The boy thought he might fall, but he held on with all his might, both on his hands and on his knees. There was a scream from the Slys as they scored a goal, and no one seemed to notice that one of their younger players was having trouble with his broom.

Harry wanted to call a time-out on his captain, but the broom began to move on its own, zigzagging and spinning in the air unexpectedly, almost knocking him over.

Draco, who had prepared for this, pulled out a pair of binoculars and searched the stands with his eyes, but it wasn't until he got to the teachers that he noticed something strange. There were two people moving their lips: Snape and Quirrell.

And the blond hadn't lived through a war and survived in the Dark Lord's troops on his surname alone. He could see the psychotic, deadly look in the turbaned man's eyes, so it was very obvious that he was trying to hurt Harry.

It was only a minute later that both professors jumped up in shock. Draco frowned, wondering how he had failed at such a simple spell, when he noticed a maroon and black cloak slinking down the steps. He noticed where the lions he lived with the most were and quickly spotted the missing person.

They both did what they had to do anyway. In the air, Harry was able to mount his broom again, having complete control of it. Theodore nudged him gently, giving him a knowing look, Draco sighed.

—It's good practice, Theo. It's good for these things... You don't just have to read. —the boy blinked, nodding seconds later, glancing towards the teachers' stands, and then back at the game.

Just as Harry was coming down at full speed, holding a hand to his mouth. Draco grimaced as the boy began to cough, giving the impression of being sick. Madame Hooch was running to meet him when the boy raised his hand and a little golden ball glinted in the sunlight.

— I've got the Snitch!

The match ended in confusion, but full of shouts and celebrations from the green and silver house. Draco and the others ran onto the pitch, arriving in time to see Harry's shoulders being lifted off Harry's shoulders. The jet-haired boy smiled at them all, and Draco could breathe a lot easier as he held him within arm's reach.

— That was amazing, Harry! I didn't know you could catch a Snitch with your mouth! —the boy let out a laugh, handing it back to the flying teacher, who smiled thinly, walking away.

—Well, I didn't know that either. Until today, that is.

Draco and Harry looked at each other in silence, the noise around them fading into a muffled echo. The blond smiled, soft and calm, while Harry smiled much brighter, draping one of his arms over his friend's shoulders.

—You did well, Potter.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later, after Harry had showered and they heard Oliver Wood about how "He didn't catch it, he swallowed it!" (Draco was amused to see the similarity between the two captains) before going off to tea with Hagrid, that Draco was able to relax completely. Harry was still hugging him by the shoulders, a bright smile on his face as he waved goodbye to the other Slytherins in the distance.

When they got there, two warm cups of strong tea were already waiting for them. Hermione, Ron and Neville were also there.

No sooner were they seated than the lions attacked them.

— You didn't tell us you were a player, Harry! —Weasley shrieked, his face red. Draco sipped his tea, assessing whether it was an envious red or an excited red.

—He couldn't, it was supposed to be a surprise... And it worked perfectly. The look on the Gryffindor team's face was hilarious, if I do say so myself. —Harry scoffed, settling back in his chair. The red-haired boy groaned, dropping into his own. Neville sent them a smile.

—Congratulations, boys. It was a great game.

Both snakes obliged, sending twin smiles at the little lion, who turned cherry red in a flash.

Hermione cleared her throat, looking at her friends. Ron straightened up.

—Mate, it was Snape. —Weasley said. Draco refrained from rolling his eyes—, Hermione, Neville and I saw him. He was the one cursing your broom, muttering, and wouldn't take his eyes off you.

Harry sent a wary glance at the boy, then back to Draco. The blond kept his lips sealed, glaring at the red-headed boy.

—Nonsense. —Hagrid said—, Why would Snape do something like that?

Hermione sent them all a flat look before speaking.

— He's obviously up to something! He's got a bite mark on his leg, limp and all. He's trying to get past the Cerberus to get what Dumbledore is holding.

Draco slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples. All that extra work so Hagrid wouldn't suspect them and give them the information they needed and that silly girl was going off with her big mouth in a fit of anger. Typical.

—How do they know what's in there? —asked the half-giant, looking nervous. He looked at Harry and Draco, who both shook their heads immediately. The man seemed relieved to know that the two of them weren't in on it—. Never mind, here are the key points: Snape wouldn't try to kill a student. Much less steal something that Dumbledore himself is trying to look after. Forget about the dog, the third floor and what's kept there. That's between the Director and Nicolas Flamel.

Draco jumped up, before they ruined it any further.

— You've got it made! They were already getting on my nerves with their crazy theories about a professor. Got to put some sense into those silly little heads, you know. —he let out a long, weary sigh. Harry played along, nodding with a jaded expression. They both got up—. We'd better go now, Hagrid. We'll try to make them understand that we're not supposed to butt in where we're not wanted.

The half-giant looked so grateful that Draco almost felt bad for lying to him so blatantly. Almost. (Not really.)

The snakes dragged the lions away, ending up in an area away from prying ears, but still close to the school.

— Crazy theories, Draco Malfoy?! You saw it too, you know what I'm talking about!

The blond rubbed his eyes, praying for some extra patience. When nothing came, he looked at her with icy, irritated eyes.

— You think it's okay to go around accusing teachers, and hope that there are no consequences or that the person involved doesn't find out? Damn it, Granger, you're supposed to have a brain in there. Learn how to use it and don't just memorise crap you won't know how to use later.

The girl flinched, looking embarrassed and hurt. Harry stood on the sidelines, at Draco's side, his expression unreadable.

—Learn to measure yourselves, and stop accusing people so easily. If you want information, ask subtly, so you don't end up being suspected of anything.

With a final snort, Draco left, his cloak billowing behind him.

Harry just gave them a flat look as they complained about Draco's haughtiness. Then he let out a laugh full of contempt, which made them remember who they were talking about and in front of what person, Harry left as well.

Hermione, Ron and Neville stood watching his back disappear, feeling sick. Maybe Malfoy was right and they weren't doing things right... And attacking him hadn't been a good decision.

Once they were both locked in their room in the dungeons, Harry opened his mouth.

—You were a bit cruel to her, you know that, don't you?

Draco flopped down on his bed, nodding. He was still annoyed with her for raising her voice and ruining all their efforts, but it wasn't right to attack her either. He would apologise tomorrow.

He almost laughed at the knowledge that he would be apologising to Hermione Granger. It was surreal.

—Well, I'm glad you know that. —the boy lay down next to Draco, looking up at him—. Is there anything else?

—It wasn't Snape. —he muttered, shrugging his shoulders, his eyes closed—. I know the hexes, Harry. Snape wasn't attacking you, though, Quirrell....

The jet-haired man frowned. Both he and Draco had a rather bad feeling about the man; in the blond's own words, Quirrell was acting and appearing too vulnerable and weak to be real. He was hiding something, there was no doubt about that.

Perhaps he was a Death Eater, or a lover of the dark arts... Maybe he believed that by killing Harry Potter he would rise as a recognised dark wizard. They don't know for sure, but something was there.

—I believe you, Draco. If you say it's Quirrell and not Snape, then it must be true. Though telling the others that, I doubt it would help. —Draco looked at him, receiving a sweet smile that he didn't hesitate to return—. Now, about Flamel... What do we know?

—Nicolas Flamel is an alchemist, Harry. —the boy nodded, eyes sparkling with curiosity—. So it's not too difficult to find out what Dumbledore is guarding. He is a man well known for being the sole maker of the Philosopher's Stone. An object of great value, not only because it is the only one of its kind, but because of its ability to transform any metal into gold. —the boy sat down, to get a better look at it. Draco could see a thousand ideas running through those green woods—. And it can also be used to create the elixir of life, which would bless the drinker with eternal life.

They looked at each other for a long time in silence.

— Who would want to steal that, so much as to want to get into a place with dragons?

The blond had a clear idea of who would be so desperate.

—࿐*:･ﾟ

Christmas was practically upon them, and Harry had a mixture of sadness and happiness about him. He was pleased that he didn't have to go home, but a piece of his heart ached knowing that Draco wouldn't be around to be together.

The blond had spent extra time with him, letting him cuddle and sleep with him to make up for it even a little, and yet Harry knew he would only miss his presence more.

Everyone in his group would be leaving as well, even Neville and Hermione were leaving. Luckily he'd be staying with Ron, which was something... Not what he'd expected, but it was okay.

He let out a tired smile as the lions joined him at the school gate. He was waiting patiently for Draco, who had something to ask his godfather (Harry couldn't quite get over the fact that his Potions teacher was his friend's family), and luckily it looked like he wouldn't be doing it alone.

—I hope you boys have fun here. I'll write as much as I can. —Hermione said, as she wrapped a scarlet scarf around her neck. Neville was struggling with his gloves and hat, trying to keep anything from falling off—. And I hope you like my presents.

Ron smiled uncomfortably. He was still feeling very tangled with the girl, always bordering on hostility when it came to arguing.

Draco decided to arrive just then, as the silence grew thick and stifling. Harry was extremely grateful.

—Granger, Longbottom, Weasley. —the blond waved, barely shaking his head. The lions greeted him with much more energy. They'd managed to settle as quickly as they'd argued—. Are you boys ready to go?

Longbottom and Granger nodded, settling back into their robes. The blond grinned, turning to Harry, who was on the verge of pouting, so the blond put aside his aristocratic stoicism for a moment and enveloped him in a tight hug. Harry melted into the contact and enjoyed the warmth as much as he could.

After the hug, Draco gently patted the red-haired boy's shoulder, who smiled amiably at him. They had started to get along relatively well in the last few weeks, much better than Weasley and Granger's relationship was going, at least.

When the three of them left, and it was just them two, they decided to go inside to warm up and have some hot chocolate. And for those first two days without their group it was like that, just the two of them meeting up at some point during the day, hanging out together, until they both had to go back to their respective common rooms. It was fun, Harry couldn't deny that, and he had even grown a little bit closer to the red-headed boy in that time.

They played magical chess, ran around the Hogwarts grounds with the twins, and had even thrown snowballs at each other. Harry had a lot of fun those days, so when Christmas came, he had high expectations.

At the foot of his bed were piled several presents, more than he had ever seen. Harry wondered vaguely if he knew so many people.

He crawled out of bed, noticing at first hand Vincent's and Gregory's presents, being the only ones to use circular boxes. Then, almost as if they were in a row, were Pansy and Daphne's, below them Millicent's, Lily's, Tracey's and Sally's. Next to them two large silver boxes stood proudly: Theo and Blaise's presents.

In a tall tower were the presents from Flint, Montague, Pucey, Bletchley, Urquhart, Cormac, Neal and Higgs. The whole Quidditch team. There were four of their prefects, all surrounding the previous pile. A little further away were gifts with terracotta and maroon accents, much shinier than anyone in his house would wear, so he approached with a frown, but ended up smiling. They were the presents from Hagrid, Hermione, the Weasleys, Neville and his grandmother, surprisingly there was also the present from his aunt and uncle. Plus one, which he couldn't recognise so easily. But there were two in particular, lying on top of his boot, that excited him the most, the gifts from Draco and Sirius (combined with Remus, clearly).

He started with those, opening Sirius's gift very carefully, coming across two books. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he realised it was a photo album and a scrapbook, he didn't recognise the handwriting on either title, so he assumed it was his parents' handwriting. Apparently their handwriting was more like his mother's, contrary to what he thought.

He shook his head, refusing to cry so early, and set them on his bed, when he turned around the gift wrapping was gone. He grabbed Draco's gift, excitement bubbling in his chest. He opened the sleek black box, finding a beautiful snake made of white gold, with small jade inlays.

Harry took it out carefully, staring at it for a few moments, the heat in his chest spreading like gunpowder. He smiled, and it was as if the bracelet communicated with his magic, for soon it was slipping on his right wrist, adjusting itself.

He pulled out a note, which was partially hidden in the box.

Harry:

I hope you like my present, and Sirius's. Be sure to send me the letter for him when you reply to this, so you guys don't lose communication for so long.

On the other hand, your bracelet has a little trick that's more for me than for you, but it works both ways. Hopefully I won't have to explain it to you.

Merry Christmas, Harry. I love you.

Love, Draco.

Harry let out a gasp, that was the first time his best friend (or anyone besides Sirius and Remus) had told him they loved him. He could frame this, never to forget that he was important to someone. He kept the letter next to the first one he received from Sirius, and the albums went with them.

He turned to the other gifts, though knowing that nothing could be better.

And he was right, partially right at least. All of his friends had shown off: Blaise had given him a whole collection of books on Quidditch and Defence Against the Dark Arts, while Theo had opted for a new Slytherin uniform, plus a set of dress robes.

Pansy had given him a black bag, apparently bottomless, with the Potter logo on the side. Daphne, meanwhile, had sent him quill pens and two almost identical diaries, differing only in the decoration of the spine, one having yellow lilies that would occasionally disappear and reappear, intertwining with each other gracefully, and the other having small damasks blooming at the bottom of the spine. A small note explained that they were journals for both him and Draco. Harry wondered vaguely why she gave them to him instead of sending them directly to the blond, but shrugged.

Millicent had sent him a maintenance kit for his broom, along with a small Snitch with an 'HP' engraved on it. The little ball activated and began to flutter around the room, but Harry wasn't too concerned, looking at the other presents.

Lily and Sally seemed to have agreed to buy him things for Hedwig, but he was more than happy about it. His little owl would have a better place to rest when she roamed his rooms, as well as a new cage, which would shrink on its own. Tracey, for her part, gave him a large book of traditional Pureblood etiquette and a white gold-plated pocket watch with the Potter crest on the cover. He wondered if she was trying to send him a hint.

Vincent and Greg had sent him boxes filled to the brim with his favourite sweets, plus a moving photograph of Draco wrinkling his nose disapprovingly. He wondered what was going on in that picture.

The boys in his team sent him much more generic gifts, books, notebooks, pens, jewellery and sweets of all kinds. One of them had saved his life, giving him a huge jewellery carrier, otherwise he wouldn't know where to put it all.

Finally, he came to the gifts from his less aristocratic friends, and hoped with all his heart that they were not books. Hagrid had given him a rustic flute, and Harry didn't hesitate to try playing it, noting how easy it was. He made a mental note to go to the half-giant and thank him personally for the nice present.

Hermione, of course, gave him a large book of fantastic stories from the magical world. He assumed they were like Muggle fairy tales, and left it on his dresser to read over the next few nights. He would also send her a letter of thanks (he had a lot of thank-yous to send that year).

He quickly unwrapped the Weasley's, his eyes watering again. In those two days he'd seen a lot of different jumpers with big letters on the chest, and he'd never expected to receive one as well. He let out a shaky sigh, putting it on quickly. He was about to get up and run after the twins and Ron, when he saw the last present.

He unwrapped it with a great deal of intrigue, seeing only his name on it in a handwriting that was too slanted and round to be familiar. He grimaced at the hideous design, knowing that Draco or any of the others would kill him if he wore such a thing. However, when he took it in his hands he realised that it looked as if it was holding liquid. He picked it up and ran it over his head, looking at himself in the full-length mirror Draco insisted on leaving it for his use. His eyes widened almost comically.

His body was gone!

—࿐*:･ﾟ

Christmas lunch at Hogwarts was of the coarsest kind.

There were a hundred roast turkeys, mountains of boiled, baked and fried potatoes, large ducks of buttered peas, and gravy boats full of delicious combinations of sauces. It was a pleasant dinner, full of laughter and teasing from the twins towards Percy.

By the time they were leaving, Hagrid was drunk, kissing his teachers' cheeks. Harry wondered vaguely if that would have consequences in the morning. It wasn't important enough to worry about at the moment, playing in the snow like a normal boy.

The other half of the afternoon was spent in his room, writing thank you letters and, in some cases, replies to letters, with thank yous added to the end of them all. By the time he got to Draco's letter he was nervous, with the peripheral of his sight he could catch the silver glow of the mysterious cloak.

Use it well.

He passed his breath, looking at it contemplatively, then checked the time. It was close to eleven, curfew already underway for the entire student body. He nodded, partially to himself, but fully to convince himself.

He finished the letter to his friend with a simple "I have to show you something when you get back. It's amazing."

He sheathed his cloak, slinking out of the snake house. It wasn't clear to him where he was going, so he wandered for a long time. He thought about the days he had been there, and suddenly he thought of a place to go: one where he would never otherwise be able to slip away. He hurried towards the Forbidden Section of the library. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, just browsing the odd titles they had there, when the sound of voices and footsteps startled him.

It was Snape and Filch, and though they couldn't see him, the corridor on this side of the library was too narrow. He stepped back cautiously, extinguishing the light of his wand with a muffled nox. He was grateful, suddenly, that Draco taught him spells this useful in his spare time.

To the left of where he stood he saw a door ajar, and he didn't have to think too hard to step through it. Anything was better than facing those two. He listened to the footsteps walking away, intently, before truly relaxing. Harry called his day's exploration over, fully ready for bed, but then he looked around, suspecting that he had found another disused classroom, like so many others that existed at Hogwarts.

The school looked like it must have had many, many other classrooms, and Harry was curious as to why they were gone. He supposed he should ask Draco later. Or Sirius, to find out if there were any other classes in his time as a student.

He walked around a bit, noticing the dust particles floating through the air, a hint of dampness in the place, along with various papers scattered on the floor. However, what caught his eye in the room was the giant, magnificent mirror against the opposite wall. It looked so out of place, being that it had a gilded frame, presumably gold, heavily worked, and had brackets in claw-like shapes. An unintelligible inscription floated across the top of the mirror, but that wasn't what Harry cared about now.

He turned around to look, just enough confirmation to know that what was on the mirror was a lie. His heart pounded furiously as he turned his face back to the mirror.

There he was, his reflection, full of fear. However, he was not alone, behind him there were many people, so many that he could not distinguish their faces, but the ones he could identify the most were the most terrifying. There was a woman, very pretty, with dark red hair and eyes identical to his own. He approached her unconsciously, seeing her crying with a happy smile on her lips. Next to her, a tall, thin man was hugging her by the shoulders. He had glasses and hair too messy to be normal. Just like him.

—Mom? —he whispered—. Dad?

Chapter Text

"Fire and Punishment."

Draco had returned to Hogwarts a day ago, and he was already noticing the differences in Harry. The boy was glancing over his shoulder from time to time, and was even a little more reluctant to let the blond out of his sight more than necessary, and Draco was trying to be patient, really, just standing there, trying to act like he didn't see how weird Harry was acting.

It lasted like that for the rest of the day. But he decided enough was enough as soon as they were locked in his room.

—All right, Potter, talk. What happened while I was gone? -—he asked, leaning against the door, arms folded, obviously unwilling to keep walking on a bridge of thin ice—. I was only gone for two weeks, how badly did I lose my best friend?

He couldn't help but scoff, seeing as how close Harry and the redhead had become. He was somewhat relieved to know that they had bonded equally, despite the rough start to their relationship. However, it seemed that Harry didn't quite catch all the amusement in the blond's voice, because he had turned to him with a look of horror and guilt.

—You didn't lose me at all! It's just that-, I, hell- I just needed to think and

— Hey, hey! Take it easy, Harry. It was a joke, I was just playing. —he peeled himself away from the door, grabbing the hands of his friend, who had practically run to stand in front of him—. Deep breaths, Harry. I hear you.

It took a few minutes for the boy to calm down, but when he finally did, he smiled at Draco. The blond almost sighed in relief. It was the first real smile he could see from the boy.

—At Christmas... I received an invisibility cloak. —he muttered, Draco just blinked, determinedly ready not to interrupt him. Harry wiped himself out a little—. I explored through the Forbidden Section that night, and came to a room with a large mirror. I wanted to tell you about it, but you weren't there to show you... So I took Ron. I saw my parents in that mirror, Draco. They were there, along with my family. I also saw Sirius, Remus... You. They were all there, and they looked so happy. —the blond was alarmed, squeezing a little tighter the boy's hands, who looked grateful for the affection—. It was the Oesed mirror.

Draco ascended, having already heard about it in the future, he didn't quite remember the dates, let alone why the subject came up (at the time he was busier trying to avoid getting himself and his parents killed), but it had come up and now he understood much better the boy in front of him, who looked as if he was about to fall apart.

—Ron, he saw himself, surrounded by gold, in a Quidditch uniform. —Malfoy arched his eyebrows, not at all impressed. Harry let out a chuckle at his reaction, and the blond was satisfied—. Then, the third night... The director was there. We talked a bit, he asked me to guess what the mirror was for. At the end of that week, the mirror was gone, and I haven't looked for it again, but....

—You had a little taste of what it was like to have a family. A warm place, full of people like you. —Draco finished for him, when it became obvious that the boy wouldn't be speaking any time soon. Harry nodded, grateful that his friend understood without the need to say anything—. It's okay to feel empty, Harry. It's okay to long for that memory. It's one of the few things you have of your parents, and even if your greatest longing can't be fulfilled... A small part of it can come to pass, you know? —seeing that the boy didn't understand, he rolled his eyes with poorly disguised affection—. Remus, Sirius and I are here, with you. We're your little family, and though it's not much, nor can we ever replace the emptiness of your parents-

Harry launched himself at him, squeezing his friend tightly. Draco only understood, hugging him too. He left a soft kiss on the top of his head, rocking them for a long moment.

A while later, Draco was receiving one of the diaries that had come to Harry at Christmas, the damascene one. The black-haired boy showed him the one he had chosen, with a bright smile.

—Daphne gave these to us, although I don't understand why she sent the two of them to me.

The blond scoffed, pulling out a quill of endless ink that his godfather had given him for Christmas earlier that year. He gently ran his index finger along the spine of the notebook, feeling the magic tingle there, forming tiny specks of light in it. Harry gasped, impressed. Draco instructed him to do the same, and when both magical signatures were completely gone, Draco wrote on the first sheet. When Harry looked down at his own notebook he let out a chuckle.

"You're an idiot, scar face. I hope you show me that invisibility cloak soon, it's not fair that Weasley has already used it and I'm barely getting it all in."

Harry promised Draco before he lay down to sleep.

It eventually took a while for Draco to try out the cloak for himself, being that they were both very focused on simply having a good year with the grades their house demanded. However, around the end of April something surprising happened. Over the days they had seen Hagrid act all nervous or mysterious, but it wasn't until Weasley dragged them up to the man's hut that they understood why.

— Please talk some sense into him! —Granger shouted, as soon as she saw them inside the small hut. Both snakes looked at each other in confusion, before catching movement in an adjoining room, Draco gasped at the sight of a baby dragon running and spitting fire.

Fire, in a log cabin.

He stepped back, pale. Draco had developed a thinly disguised fear of fire. He died in the flames, they couldn't ask him for peace at the sight of it, let alone could he get along with animals so strongly associated with it. Harry stood in front of the blond, blocking his view of the dragon, which was nearly burning a chair.

Harry said—, Hagrid, you can't have this here. It's dangerous. A Cerberus is one thing, a thing that can set your house on fire is quite another. —Harry exclaimed, pointing at the dragon and then at the half-lizard.

— But it's so adorable, so small too!

— And so illegal! —exclaimed the blond, still hiding behind his friend's back. Harry nodded, sternly—. You have to get rid of it, Hagrid. It's dangerous, it's illegal and, most of all, it's unlovable. It can kill you.

The man looked tormented, and Draco thought he could solve this without getting hurt. Or get in trouble. He snapped his fingers, Harry looked at him over his shoulder, Granger tilted her head, and Weasley stopped eating so he could look at him.

—Your brother, Charles or something. He works with dragons, doesn't he, Weasley? We could ask him to come and get that thing.

— His name is Norbert! —cried Hagrid, looking like the Narcissa correcting him when he's too rude to her plants. He sighed.

—Well, to take Norbert to a safe place, where he will learn to live with his own specie... and where there are no children for him to roast.

So they arranged it, and luckily everything went well. The dragon was dispatched, unfortunately thanks to Granger they ended up in big trouble. And, as expected, they had to give an explanation to their Head of House so they wouldn't get even more punishment.

— What were they supposed to be doing, eh? Sneaking out of their rooms, running around with some Gryffindors. You're Slytherins, kids, this is no way to act.

Draco and Harry kept their eyes on the ground, the brunet mostly at Draco's request, rather than the scolding. The blond let out a sigh, straightening up, still looking away from his godfather's dark eyes.

—I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again. —he promised, and before the man could say anything else, he added—, and if it's about the points lost, Harry and I can make them up, we've worked hard all year to be able to get a lot more than that, and you know it, sir.

Snape, seeing that he wouldn't get the information out of them that night, not in a good way, let them go off to their dormitories. And the next day, when the others saw the lost points, they looked warily at everyone, but even when they found out who the culprits had been, they said nothing. They had a lot of points, and the blond was the most consequential of their first years, while Potter was leading them to win the house cup much more easily, so they knew that quickly that minimal loss would be obsolete.

That night, after spending a hard day earning as many points as possible, both boys met up with the little lions, ready to go after Filch at once.

—I'm sorry, boys, I...—began Granger again. She had apologized more than once that day, and while the blond appreciated it, he was getting a bit tired of it, so he raised his hand, cut out her.

—It's okay, Granger. It wasn't intentional, I understand. We can all make mistakes. Besides, it wasn't even relevant to our house... To you, however, it seemed to be a disaster.

The girl nodded, that day was a complete horror, receiving insults and being picked on by everyone in the house, not just those in her year. Draco grimaced at the sight of them in the middle of the storm, but both he and Harry knew there was little he could do. If they got in, it would be more trouble, and that wasn't the plan.

They arrived with the warden, who immediately started talking about what their punishment would be like if he had anything to do with it. Longbottom was pale, Granger looked more horrified than scared, while Harry and Draco just shrugged at every look the Gryffindors sent their way. It wasn't that they weren't disturbed by Filch's talk, but they knew that hadn't happened for over a century. Plus the blond's father wasn't above moving contacts to kick out a squib threatening the safety of his firstborn.

Though Draco knew he would do it more to get rid of the man than for his son's safety.

At that moment, Hagrid approached them, along with Fang. He had a large crossbow, along with his arrows, slung across his back.

—It's about time. — he said—. I've been waiting for you for half an hour. Is everything all right, kiddos?

—I wouldn't be so kind to them, Hagrid— growled the man, coldly—. They are here to serve a punishment, after all.

The men engaged in an argument, while the children moved a little farther away from hearing them.

—Boys, I almost forgot to tell you this—gasped Granger, her eyes sparkling—, a few hours ago we found out who Nicolas Flamel is. Thanks to Neville!

The aforementioned blushed, while the chestnut seemed unable to stop vibrating at the new knowledge she possessed. The blond looked up at the towering forest towering behind him, passing saliva. Despite trying to avoid the thought, the mere knowledge that when they entered there they would meet the man who ruined everything for him sent shivers down his spine. Lacerating fear coursed through his whole body, almost numbing him.

— What do you mean they already knew, Harry?—Longbottom, just as confused as she was, looked at the blond, who returned to the conversation, easily finding that he had been listening.

—Draco told me that same day, after the argument. I think I mentioned it to Ron during Christmas break.

Before anyone else could say anything, Hagrid arrived beside them, looking irritated but pleased at the same time. Draco guessed he had won the argument against Filch.

—Well, children, time to pay for your mistakes. We're going to the Forbidden Forest, we're doing something extremely dangerous, so I'll ask you to stay with me. Follow me for a moment.

The children looked at each other in fear. Draco could tell Longbottom was trembling, almost certainly. Granger seemed to be nervously muttering some kind of mantra, while Harry stood almost neutrally at his side. She looked at him, and instead of seeing fear, she saw curiosity. Of course there was some wariness in the boy, but the embracing need to know what was in those woods seemed too much to look really worried about what might happen to them.

—Look over there. —said the half-giant, pointing to a trail with the light of his headlamp—. See that there, shining on the ground? The silver thing. That's...

—Unicorn blood. —Draco muttered, unable to stop himself. He earned stares from everyone, but he was too busy staring in horror at the thick liquid that was slowly being absorbed into the ground.

—That's right, Draco. —Hagrid nodded—. There is a unicorn that has been badly injured, this is the second time this week that I have seen this. We will try to find this one, and prevent it from suffering any more.

The children nodded, partially. Draco looked at the dog, who was still very much glued to his master's legs. He wondered why he believed, at some point, that this animal could protect him from something out there.

—Well! We'll split into two groups. Hermione and Neville with me. Harry and Draco will go with Fang, since our children have already faced a troll without hesitation they will be fine.

The blond looked at him with a blank expression, wondering what the man was thinking when it came to deductions. They could have beaten the troll by luck, yet here he was, relying on the survival skills of some first year kids. Harry grabbed Fang's leash.

—If you see anything, or get into trouble, throw red sparks with your wands. We'll come with you right away.

— ࿐*:･ﾟ

They had been walking for a very long time, Draco holding the lantern aloft, Harry walking beside him, looking at the roots. By this point they had gone deep into the heart of the forest, and the blood was getting thicker and thicker, and there was more.

Draco felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. He was holding his wand very tightly, thinking of every defense spell he knew, but still doubtful that anything would work against this man. Although, if he remembered correctly, at that time the Dark Lord wasn't him as such. He was just using a container.

Draco stopped abruptly when Harry took his arm. He looked to where his friend was pointing and felt the bile rise in his throat. The unicorn was lying on the ground, its long legs bent at angles that were uncommon, its strands looking like rivers of light, unfurling across the ground.

They heard something slithering, out of a bush came a hooded figure, approaching the unicorn, like a beast on the prowl. It lowered its head towards the animal's wound. Drinking its blood.

The hooded figure stood up moments later, pausing for a moment, almost as if frozen, before slowly turning around. Draco dropped the lantern, its small flame barely surviving the impact.

He was quickly approaching them, when Harry doubled over in pain, until he fell to his knees. Draco did the first thing that came to his mind, standing in front of his friend, and in a burst of adrenaline he shouted:

— Depulse!

The thing flew away, and Draco was ready to use a bombard, just in case, when a centaur appeared in front of both wizards, standing between them and the Dark Lord. By the time Harry felt the pain subside, only Draco and the Centaur were there. Fang had fled, as had the hooded man. 

—Are they all right? —asked the Centaur, causing Harry to rush to his feet. Draco took the boy's hand as soon as he was standing.

—We're fine, thank you but... What was that?

The creature didn't answer, just staring at them both with those unearthly blue eyes.

—You're the Potter boy, wasn't it? —It didn't wait for an answer, bowing in front of them both—. Get on, it's not safe for you to be here at this time.

Harry was the first to mount his back, followed quickly by Draco. The blond paid attention to nothing but Harry's steady, sure heartbeat, reassuring himself that the boy was still alive. That he was allright.

Harry remained silent, leaning back in his friend's embrace. That had been terrifying. And very painful.

— Harry, Draco! Are you all right? What happened?

Granger was running towards them down the path, with Hagrid, Neville and Fang trailing behind her. The blond blinked at her, confused to hear her call his name, as both he and Harry got off the centaur, which Draco guessed was called Firenze, or something he half heard.

—We're fine...— The jet turned to Draco, carefully taking the blond's hand—. Right?

Draco nodded, slowly.

—We're fine, Granger. But the unicorn...

Hagrid moved a little closer, and Harry decided to take the floor.

—It's dead, near the clearing.

Thus ended their night, however, the next day Draco decided to talk to the others about it, all too aware of the presence that haunted them. Leaving poor Longbottom out of it, enough of that the boy had been through enough of his own.

—Tell us, Malfoy, what happened in the forest?

The blond was uneasily pale, his feet swaying in the air, the others had sat in chairs, in a circle around him.

—It's... I know who's looking for the stone. —he fiddled with his fingers, his gelid eyes glued to his hands—. Drinking unicorn blood is a monstrous act. Only someone who has nothing left to lose would do it... Unicorn blood can keep you alive, even if you're on the verge of disappearing, but everything has a price. You will get half a cursed life for such an aberrant act.

Granger looked at Weasley and then at Harry, all three silently taking in what the blond was saying.

—It's like this... Unless you're someone who just needs a little more time to get something else. Something that will bring it all back to you.

— Of course...! —Granger shouted, looking up at him with wide eyes. He nodded—. The philosopher's stone! But who...?

—Voldemort. —Harry and Draco said it at the same time, without even looking at each other. The two lions flinched at the dark assertion. 

Weasley hissed under his breath, something about the name they weren't supposed to mention, while Granger looked very frightened. Still, she tried to be a conciliatory voice.

—We have to trust Dumbledore, he's the only wizard the-who-must-not-be-named is afraid of. We'll be safe.

Harry nodded, but when he turned to face Draco, his look said anything but trust. They both knew something bad would happen, and if the Dark Lord was already so close, even with Dumbledore at the school, they didn't know how much they could trust.

They just hoped that the headmaster wouldn't move from the school, that was, for now, their only hope.

Draco didn't believe in any hope, since he vaguely remembered that at some point the headmaster had met with his father that year at that time. There was no doubt that something bad would happen.

Chapter Text

"Nearby"

Final exams took up all the children's time, effectively, preventing any of them from focusing too much on the evil that stalked the school, hunting unicorns and threatening everyone's safety.

Harry and Draco had a lot of nightmares. Screaming women and green lightning. Evil laughter, disappointed looks and red lightning. Sometimes, burning flames consuming everything.

The children slept together, holding each other tightly, as if to hide from their greatest fears. Both were pale, haggard and looked nervous all the time. So far this week, their classmates had already taken them to the nurse more than once, and Snape had even started giving them hot chocolate with some calming potion every night. The man had spent a lot of time in the common room in that period, helping his students prepare for their exams. Harry found it endearing, as it was the first time he had seen anything like it.

When they gave their last exam, and only then, could they breathe easier. They were both walking towards Hagrid's hut when they passed Professor McGonagall, whom they greeted politely. She smiled at them, a little stiffly, but said nothing. They continued on their way and saw their Head of House turn into one of the many corridors, and, seconds later, they were coming face to face with Granger and Weasley.

— Thank to Merlin! —they both exclaimed, pulling them to a secluded spot: again, an empty classroom. Draco wondered if this was going to become a tradition.

—We've got problems, boys. Draco was right when he said Hagrid might have opened his mouth to someone other than us. He said it to a hooded man in the Hog's Head pub!

Harry blinked, puzzled, as Weasley nodded. The blond narrowed his eyes, the girl is still calling him by his name.

—The one who gave him the dragon egg. —Harry suddenly muttered. Draco couldn't believe anyone could be so careless, Hagrid be damned.

— Exactly! He also told him how to calm Fluffy down-

—That's not the worst of it! —interrupted Weasley, looking almost frantic—. The Headmaster's gone! Our only salvation is gone!

Draco leaned against the wall, looking really sick now. Harry, meanwhile, had his eyes on his friend, thoughtfully.

—Let's go get the stone. —he said, still focused on Draco—. We have to get it before he does.

Draco nodded, still not moving away from the wall, thinking deeply about what they could do. He looked at the other three children, just thinking that these eleven year olds lived through all this alone, and still made it out alive the first time. It made him doubt the dark lord a little. Why were they so afraid of him, if eleven year olds could stop him? Why weren't any adults taking charge?

—Today, after curfew, we'll meet at Fluffy's door. —decided Harry. He sounded so sure that neither of them rebutted.  

— ࿐*:･ﾟ

Draco and Harry were standing in front of the door, under the invisibility cloak. They had been there for over ten minutes, and the lions weren't coming. Harry had already scared the poltergeist away with an absurd imitation of the Bloody Baron. The blond had laughed a little at that, and Harry would brag about it later.

They heard soft footsteps, and saw the two boys arrive, both a little nervous about not finding them there. Harry pulled the cloak off them. Granger almost screamed in fright, but Weasley managed to cover his mouth.

—You're late. —Draco muttered grumpily, ready to open the door as Harry pulled out his rustic flute.

—Neville tried to stop us. —the red-headed boy grumbled, and Draco smiled, imagining the scene—. Hermione petrified him... I hope he don't hate us.

The door opened, and they cautiously stepped inside. There was a harp playing by itself,

Weasley and Granger walked ahead of them, and Draco might have snorted something about impertinent Gryffindors. Harry sent him an amused smile before he set to playing the flute. The harp was dying out, so if they didn't want to get into trouble, they'd better start now.

The group moved forward, Harry still playing. Weasley lifted the trap door, and before the four of them, only unmistakable darkness appeared. They looked at each other, trying to see who would go first. In the end, Granger took Harry's place with the flute, and it was the jet-haired boy who went first.

— All's well! —he exclaimed, a few seconds later, his voice coming as an echo—. It was a soft landing, you can come!

Draco dived first, then Weasley, both landing partially away from the brunette. He looked down, barely making out where they had landed, when he heard Granger fall, not even waiting to flick his wand, blue flames fluttering about, until the plant fell back completely. The three of them looked at him, somewhat surprised.

—Uh, it was the Devil's Snare, it would have crushed us. —he shrugged, standing up and looking around—. We saw it in Herbology, one of the first classes, remember?

Harry nodded, as Weasley frowned, trying to remember. Granger stared at him.

—Guys, over there. —Harry pointed to a stone passageway, which was the only path in sight. Draco was already halfway down, as was the jet. The other two hurried after them.

They walked for a few minutes, the whirring sound getting louder and louder.

—Wings... —Granger whispered, Draco moved forward a little, with Harry close on his heels. At the end of the corridor was a brightly lit room, it was full of keys with wings on them, going from one side to the other. 

Harry, Weasley and Granger ran, but Draco was too busy looking at the three brooms neatly propped up against a wall. 

—Weasley, tell me what kind of key the lock needs. —he asked, heading off without even bothering to cover himself. He'd already seen that they wouldn't do anything to him.

—A big, old key... probably silver, like the handle.

Draco tossed the other two brooms to Weasley and Harry, with a final look, all three of them kicked the ground to rise.

The keys moved very quickly, but it wasn't for nothing that Harry had been such a good seeker. Draco himself was very good, when it wasn't against Gryffindor.

They circled for a few seconds before Draco pointed at it and Harry shouted.

—The wings are squashed on one side! 

Weasley lunged, Draco moving underneath the boy, almost hunting them. Harry nodded.

— Let's round that up!

After a few seconds they were able to catch it. They rushed downstairs, and as they opened the door, they ended up seeing the face of pure darkness again. When the four of them were in the room, it lit up, revealing a large magical chess set.

Draco wondered if he could just fly past it, with the brooms from the previous challenge. He didn't think they were there to waste time on a game. He turned to raise that with Harry when he saw that Weasley had already entered the board.

He narrowly missed hitting his head against the wall in frustration.

Weasley positioned himself as the knight, chose Granger to be a rook, Harry as a bishop, but stared at him, eyes confused, as if he didn't know where to put him.

—Malfoy, you will be the queen.

The blond arched his eyebrows, but the Weasley boy wasn't looking at him, so he simply went to his place. The game went pretty well, generally speaking, and Draco didn't dare say anything. At least not until the very last move.

—Weasley, there's no need to do that. —he spoke, for the first time, making himself heard above the shouts of the other three. He pointed to a specific spot on the left, a spot that none of the other pieces could reach, but which puts the king at risk.

— Just go there and then... ya’know.

— You'll put the king in check! Thank you, Malfoy. You're right.

The boy nodded, letting the move play out, and when it was his turn, he advanced confidently to stand in front of the king, waved his hand, almost like a blunt weapon, and the king's crown fell at his feet.

They ran quickly out of the room, into the next, where they found only an unconscious troll. Draco was partially grateful, however, he frowned.

Why would Quirrell choose something he was so afraid of? He couldn't control it, besides that… two trolls in one year? Where had the first one come from? There was no way he was getting into the school without help.

They got to Snape's test, this one being a riddle. Hermione took a few minutes, before setting aside two of the concoctions.

He and Harry looked at each other, seeing that the contents were too little for the four of them. Draco closed his eyes, nodding. Harry smiled, taking the liquid.  And when Harry entered to the next room, Draco opened his mouth.

—It's not Snape. —the other two were startled—. It's not Snape looking for the stone. At the Quidditch game, Quirrell was muttering and staring at Harry, and it wasn't the same half-dead sheepish look he gives everyone. He was attacking, I know. —the kids looked at each other, there was no reason not to believe him, but they were comparing the image of Quirrell and Snape in their heads, and it was kind of... —He's hiding something or he knows something... I don't know, maybe he's got Voldemort in his turban, but I assure you, in that room there’s not Snape.

They looked at each other before Granger took some of the concoction.

—I'll go and send an owl to Dumbledore! I will trust your judgement, Draco.

Weasley nodded, taking a small drink as well. He passed it to the blond, who understood and drank, leaving some for Harry.

—I'll go with McGonagall, you get Snape... I'd rather be expelled than have Harry die.

The three nodded and hurried off.

They passed through all three wards, and even put Fluffy back to sleep. Once at the base of the staircase, the trio split up, taking different directions. Ron ran as fast as his legs would carry him to get to the head of his house.

— Before you punish me or expel me, you have to listen to me!

Draco, for his part, had run faster than he had ever run in his entire life, not caring at all that he had run into Filch, or that he knew that snakes don't run. He quickly knocked on his professor's door, only to be met minutes later by his Snape’s grumpy expression.

—Draco, what-

— Quirrell's trying to steal the stone, he's reached the last test! Harry's with him, go help him!

Snape froze for a second, searching his godson's silver eyes for any sign of a lie, but saw only concern and pure desperation. He nodded, leaving his chambers.

At the same time, Hermione had never written a letter to someone older so casually before. She sent an owl and after watching it disappear, ran inside again, where she bumped into Snape and Draco, who were on their way to the third floor. He ran along with them, and then ran back inside again, where he passed Snape and Draco, who were heading for the third floor. She ran after them, joined later by McGonagall and Ron. As the adults started up the stairs, Draco stopped both lions.

They understood, and simply waited there, walking in her case, standing motionless in front of the stairs in the boys' case.

Relief washed over them as they saw Snape come down, with Harry in his arms. The professor didn't look perturbed, and the boy's chest was rising and falling, so they assumed nothing untoward had happened.

McGonagall was holding purple cloth in her hands, Ron and Hermione looked at each other fearfully. Draco had been right, but... Where was Quirrell now? Had he escaped?

—Come with us, children. Poppy will give you something to calm you down, and tell us exactly what happened here today.

They slowly followed the teachers, and for the first time in what seemed like years, Draco took someone else's hand, someone who wasn't Harry. Granger was so frightened that she offered him the touch, Weasley hugged him by the shoulders. Somehow, Draco felt it was time to stop using their surnames when it came to talking to them.

Chapter Text

“Holidays”

It had been a long week, not only because it was the last of the year but also because of the news that Harry Potter was in the hospital wing. First-year Slytherins were constantly seen visiting him, often accompanied by two lions.

The full details of what had happened were unclear—only a brief summary had been shared. The Slytherins were on edge, knowing that two of their first-years had been involved in such danger and hadn't gone to anyone until it was too late. The older students had approached the blond boy with questions at first, but by the end of his talk with the entire house, the Slytherins had read between the lines. It was a clear warning of what lay ahead. Everyone had written to their parents about the sighting and what had occurred that night... They needed to be ready.

It wasn’t until the day of the feast that all the tension seemed to dissipate at the Slytherin table, and, consequently, throughout the Great Hall. Harry had entered alongside Weasley and Granger, all three of them smiling brightly. Draco almost forgot that he was now part of that group too, so when the raven-haired boy quickly walked toward him, he nearly frowned.

Harry sat beside him, taking his hand and giving him a sweet smile. Draco smiled back, while the other Slytherins stared.

—I'm fine... I was just tired; apparently, I used too much magic, —they explained to the group in general, still playing with the blond’s fingers under the table—. I'm sorry for worrying you, guys.

—The next time you find yourselves in such a situation, speak to an older student, kids. You're not alone–not in Slytherin.

The younger students nodded, smiling. However, no one missed the cautious look the blond gave them when Harry wasn’t looking. They all understood why the boy seemed so distrustful–with the kind of enemy Potter faced, trusting the wrong person wasn’t an option.

When Dumbledore stood at his podium, the chatter and clamor in the Great Hall ceased.

—Another year gone! —he sang cheerfully, his eyes twinkling more brightly than ever—. And, as is tradition, I’ll bore you with an old man’s ramblings before you can enjoy the feast. —The students laughed, while others nodded at him, seemingly accepting his apology. Draco only smiled, alongside a very amused Harry, who seemed ready to tease him about the snakes’ behavior—. What an extraordinary year it has been! Let’s hope your heads are a bit fuller than when you arrived... Now you have the whole summer to empty them again for next year.

More laughter echoed throughout the hall, though Snape and McGonagall didn’t seem entirely convinced about that last part of his speech. The other teachers just smiled.

—Now, I understand it’s time to award the House Cup. The points accumulated for each house are as follows: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two points; Ravenclaw with four hundred and twenty-six, and Slytherin with four hundred and seventy-two.

A storm of applause and cheers erupted from the green and silver table. Harry and Draco clinked their goblets dramatically while their friends laughed.

—Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin, —Dumbledore interrupted. Draco closed his eyes–there went the House Cup, again. He would never understand why Dumbledore declared them winners only to take it away moments later by arbitrarily awarding points. In his opinion, he should give them earlier; it always seemed like he just wanted to humiliate the snakes when he did this—. However, recent events must be taken into account.

Harry’s smile faltered slightly, as did the others’. Well, maybe they could still win. Draco remembered that Harry earned points as well, so perhaps the cup hadn’t slipped from their grasp just yet.

—Let’s move on to the points to be awarded... First, to Ronald Weasley, —they saw the redhead stand up, his face as red as his hair—, for being the best chess player Hogwarts has seen in years, I award fifty points to Gryffindor.

The lions’ cheers echoed quickly, and both Harry and Draco applauded. Despite the difference in houses, the boy was a friend. The Slytherins joined in, albeit timidly.

—Second, to Miss Granger, for her cool reasoning even in moments of danger, I award fifty points to Gryffindor.

Harry and Draco exchanged glances as the girl buried her face in her arms. In silent agreement, they determined she was crying from relief.

—In third place, Neville Longbottom... —The mentioned boy shot to his feet like a spring, his face pale and bewildered—. It takes great courage to face our enemies, but it takes even more to stand up to our friends. Therefore, I award fifteen points to Gryffindor.

A wave of applause, initiated by Harry and Draco, spread throughout the hall.

—In fourth place, Harry Potter. —The named boy blinked like an owl before Blaise nudged him to his feet. The headmaster smiled—. For his composure and bravery, I award sixty points to Slytherin.

Draco smiled, clapping as loudly as all the other Slytherins. Harry sat back down, looking pleased. The blond considered the point-giving done and raised his goblet again.

—Not so fast, young Malfoy, —the blond glanced at the headmaster, confused—. Stand up, Draco Malfoy.

He stood carefully, still wary of what the man would say next.

—For your loyalty to your friends, your calm thinking in danger, and your willingness to help your peers, I award sixty points to Slytherin. —More applause, and Draco was almost stunned as he sat down—. This means the house standings have changed: Hufflepuff in fourth; Ravenclaw in third; Gryffindor with four hundred and twenty-seven points in second place, and Slytherin in first place with five hundred and ninety-two points.

— ࿐*:･ﾟ

After all the commotion they had experienced, the kids had almost forgotten about the exam results, but Hermione had hurried them during the day to go and get them. Harry comfortably secured third place for the best first-year grades, while Ron managed more than acceptable results, which made him look very proud. Draco came in first, followed by Hermione. The girl didn’t seem bothered by this, which unsettled the blond boy a little.  

They had enjoyed a few peaceful weeks just hanging out together, free of two-faced lunatics trying to steal mythical stones that granted eternal life. For now, they would enjoy the calm that had been given to them.  

One day, the wardrobes were emptied, the luggage was packed, and the locomotive was already screeching. They boarded the Hogwarts Express together, chatting and laughing. It had been a good year, and Draco could say he had survived almost without a single breakdown.  

—We need to write to each other, guys. I don’t want to lose touch with you for so long, —said Hermione, her eyes wide open. Ron was about to tease her, but Harry kicked him without even trying to hide it. The girl laughed at the redhead’s suffering.  

—Of course we’ll write, Hermione.

They didn’t do much else during the trip–just had fun. Until it was time to get off the train. Several people greeted Harry, earning teasing from Draco and Ron, who had joined forces for that many times over the year.  

—You guys have to come over during the holidays, all three of you... Uh, well, two of you. I don’t think your father would like you being around my family, Draco, —Ron said—. But I’ll send you an owl anyway.

The blond boy grimaced, remembering that detail. During the winter holidays, he had managed to avoid talking about his year because his father wasn’t home, and his mother didn’t ask too many questions if her son looked uncomfortable. There was no way he could avoid it this time.  

—That would be nice, Ron. Thanks.

Harry gave the blond a worried look, but Draco shook his head. Once they were off the train, the blond quickly spotted his parents' figures in the crowd.  

—I have to go, guys, but I’ll be writing to you, —he promised. The three nodded, already spotting their own families. Harry pulled him into a quick hug.  

—I have something important to tell you, Draco, —Harry said. The boy frowned, returning the hug—. I’ll send Hedwig to you one of these days–it’s very... private. 

The blond nodded and stepped back, giving a reassuring smile.  

—Goodbye, guys.

Draco moved to join his housemates, who were looking at him with amused smiles. Crabbe and Goyle immediately flanked him, while Theo and Blaise walked beside him. The girls were walking on one side, with Daphne at the front, Pansy and Millicent on either side of her, and Tracey, Sally, and Lily behind.  

When Draco met his father’s cold gaze, he realized it was going to be a long summer.