Chapter Text
The Dursley family had set out to do some Christmas shopping, (specifically for Dudley). So, Harry had been left with Mrs. Figg at her bookstore, Knick-Knack Memories. It was her side job, which she enjoyed quite a bit. She loved her kneazles, but they could be such a handful sometimes.
Harry had been in the bookstore for half his life. Seeing as he was only four, it hadn't actually been that long, but Harry quite enjoyed it. He was barely two years old when he first stepped in there, and it quickly became like a second home to him.
It was a small place. A hole in the wall in one of the many crevices of Diagon Alley. It had two floors, but the top was more like a loft.
The loft was Harry's real bedroom. Although he technically lived at the Dursleys', he spent most of his time in this loft. One time, the Dursleys went on vacation, so Harry and Mrs. Figg stayed in the bookstore for the duration of their trip. It was magical for Harry, even if the bookstore was full of kneazles the entire time.
Mrs. Figg had let him decorate it anyway he wanted. So, Harry made it a mix of red and green. It looked like Christmas all year round in Harry's room. There were small toys and books scattered around, and there was even a small dresser, where Harry kept some clothes.
Mrs Figg didn't have many customers, but she had Harry for most of the week. When Harry wasn't in muggle kindergarten, or doing chores, he excused himself from home and walked over to Mrs. Figg's house. She was just a few doors down, and she always happily welcomed him. They then flooed to the shop after feeding all the kneazles that Mrs. Figg was raising.
Then, once Harry was settled in a corner with tea, Mrs. Figg would tell him all about the wizarding world. Despite being a squib, she did grow up in a magical family.
Even so, the only exposure Harry had to real magic at the time was people flooing in and out of the book store. Even that was scarce, since Harry always had to hide in the back whenever a witch or wizard entered, because Mrs. Figg didn't want them to know that he was there. However, there was one time when she introduced him to someone who would change his life forever.
Harry heard the floo and started to walk to the back when Mrs. Figg called him over.
“Harry! Come over here, dear. There’s some people I want you to meet.”
Harry was surprised, but walked over to the fireplace. He attached himself to Mrs. Figg’s side and finally looked at who had arrived.
There were two people. A woman, probably in her thirties, with blonde and black hair. She had an air of riches and seemed rather haughty. The second person was a young boy. He had the same platinum blonde hair as, who Harry assumed to be, his mother. He had steel grey eyes and a proper demeanour.
“Harry, this is Narcissa Malfoy and her son, Draco. Go on, don't be shy,” Mrs. Figg said.
Narcissa knelt down to Harry’s level, and then her haughty personality melted away when she smiled.
“Hello. I’m Harry. Harry Potter,” Harry said quietly.
“Hello Harry. You can call me Aunt Narcissa. Or just Aunt Cissa is fine as well,” Narcissa said softly, but before Harry could respond, Draco interjected.
“Harry Potter? You mean THE Harry Potter! The boy who lived?” Draco asked excitedly.
Draco’s eyes practically sparkled when Harry nodded and pushed up his bangs to show the scar. Harry knew that he was special, he knew he was the boy who lived, but he never expected his fame to reach even the young children of the wizarding world.
"Mother, could I stay and play with Harry?" Draco asked his mom.
"Alright dear. We can stay for a bit," Narcissa said.
Draco was ecstatic, and Harry was also quite happy. Harry never had any friends, so he was overjoyed that someone wanted to spend time with him. Harry and Draco immediately took off in the direction of the couch in the corner. They seemed to take to each other right away and started to talk like they’d known each other their entire lives.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Figg poured Narcissa a cup of tea.
“Thank you for bringing Draco, Narcissa. Harry's always been a tad lonely, even though he's already started muggle school,” Mrs. Figg said.
“It’s quite alright, Arabella. Draco needs a friend like Harry. Not that the other children aren’t good friends, but I fear they might be a bad influence. Draco needs someone to humble him,” Narcissa replied, taking a sip from his cup.
“How’s Lucius?” Mrs. Figg asked.
“Same as always. He still doesn't know where I hid the good shampoo,” Narcissa smirked to herself.
Arabella laughed quietly.
Down near the couch, Harry and Draco had gotten into Harry's collection of books. Harry, being mostly raised in that bookstore, had his own little shelf of books that he kept to himself.
He and Draco had been looking through some fairy tale books when Narcissa and Arabella came over. Draco seemed to be completely enamoured by muggle stories.
"We have to go now, Draco," Narcissa said.
Draco pouted as a response.
"Will we visit again, mother?" he asked hopefully.
Narcissa chuckled and said, "Of course we will."
Both Draco and Harry brightened up after she had said that. They shared a small wave and smile, before the Malfoys stepped into the fireplace and left.
Harry was quite happy that day. Not even caring that Petunia had yelled at him to straighten his hair. Not caring that Dudley had continuously poked him all the way through dinner. Not even caring that Vernon had given him extra chores. He had made his first friend, and that was all that he could think about until he fell asleep.