Chapter Text
Four months ago, Andromeda sat Harry down at her dining room table while Teddy was playing with the other neighborhood kids and told him, very simply:
“I’m not raising another child.”
Harry nodded. He understood what she meant. Andromeda was older now, less patient, and still grieving. But he also understood what it meant to be the child someone didn’t want to raise. That’d been his whole childhood. He didn’t want that for Teddy.
But he also couldn’t stop being an auror. When he told her as much she’d given him a firm look as she picked at a chip in her tea mug.
“Perhaps it’s time to find a nanny, then. I’ll leave it to you of course. He’s your godson.”
“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’ll get on that.”
To be fair, he gave it a good try. He hired the first nanny a week after Andromeda told him she wasn’t raising another child. That nanny lasted all of two weeks. She quit after Teddy hid from her for nearly six hours and it took Andromeda’s coaxing to draw him out of his hiding place, which happened to be under the porch steps with his hair an odd mix of greens and browns so he wouldn’t be spotted.
In four months, he’d gone through six nannies. None of them lasted very long. Teddy hated all of them– at least that’s what he said while crying when Harry asked why he couldn’t behave for them. Harry never knew what to do when Teddy cried. So he stood there quite awkwardly with his hands hovering around his shoulders. It didn’t help.
When Harry dropped Teddy off at Andromeda’s for the work week after he had him for a long, pleasant weekend, she hustled him up the stairs and whirled on Harry with a fierceness.
“I’ve found a nanny for him, but you won’t like who it is.”
Harry raised a skeptical brow, “Who?”
She shook her head, “If he lasts longer than a week, I’ll tell you.”
“It’s a man!?”
But she never did tell him who it was, and Harry spent the work week much more anxious than usual. Part of him wanted the nanny to work out for Teddy’s sake. The other part of him didn’t exactly vibe with the idea of a stranger, possibly untrained judging by Andromeda’s insistence she not tell Harry a thing about the man watching his godson.
Yet he shows back up to Andromeda’s cottage on summery friday evening to take Teddy for his usual weekend at 12 Grimmauld Place. Like always, he doesn’t bother knocking. He’s long since had free entry in and out of the cottage. Right after the war, he practically lived with Andromeda and baby Teddy. He misses that time more than he’d like to admit.
What he opens the door to isn’t what he’s expecting. For starters, because Teddy is laughing. Secondly, because he’s tucked up on the sofa next to Draco-Fucking-Malfoy with a book spread across both their laps. Teddy’s hair is the same white-blond as Malfoy’s. Andromeda sits in the loveseat across from them, a satisfied grin playing on her face as she and Harry meet eyes.
“Harry!” Teddy squeals, throwing the book back into Malfoy’s arms to throw himself at Harry. Harry bends down and scoops him up, propping Teddy on his hip and rubbing their noses together like they always do. “You know Draco?”
“Yes,” Harry says, trying to keep his voice as even and normal as possible to hide how much he detest most of Draco Malfoy’s state of existence. “We knew each other in school. What is he doing here?”
In the time it takes to scoop Teddy up, Malfoy draped himself over the arm of the couch, forearms pillowing his head as his sickle-silver eyes meet Harry’s. He curls his fingers in a wave, one leg tossed carelessly over the other.
“Nanny!” shouts Teddy, “The best one.”
Malfoy does a mock salute, “As of monday, yes.”
“Why?” This time Harry does not keep his disgust out of his voice. Malfoy fixes him with a firm look and a single shake of his head as if warning him.
Andromeda opens her mouth to speak, but Malfoy is the one who talks,
“I’m not one to deny a family request.”
Harry glares. Malfoy’s expression remains unchanged.
“You didn’t even know her.”
Malfoy shrugs nonchalantly, “And yet we’re still family regardless. She is my aunt, you know, and she asked… so.”
“So!” Teddy cuts them both off, “Now I see Draco everyday and we play and go for walks and have snacks and–”
“He’s the nanny,” says Andromeda, “For now. I told you you wouldn’t like it, but he and Teddy seem to get on just fine and…”
“And?” Harry switches Teddy over to his other hip. Teddy’s hair goes back to his favored blue as he turns and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and his legs around his waist. It makes holding him loads easier.
“He’ll be staying in my guest room during the week.”
“Off on the weekends,” Malfoy finishes. He stands up and drags a leather satchel out from behind the couch. Harry didn’t notice it at first when he came in because he was too shocked to find Malfoy in a place a Malfoy should never be, but he’s in muggle clothes. Jeans and a turtleneck sweater with his hair clipped out of his face by one of those claw clips that have gotten popular recently amongst witches. “He’s a good kid, you know. He misses you terribly when you’re gone.”
Harry’s face warms. He says nothing.
“Goodbye, Aunt Andromeda.”
“See you on Monday, Draco. Tell your mother I say hello.”
Malfoy’s face goes tight and funny.
“She’ll come around,” Andromeda says, “Eventually.”
“Yeah, maybe. See you around, Potter,” Malfoy drops his hand atop Teddy’s head and ruffles his hair. Harry fights not to box him away from them, “And I’ll see you on Monday.”
Teddy cackles and tells Harry, “We’re seeing horses on Monday.”
“Horses?”
“Yes,” Malfoy says, “Four legs, strong bodies, ears, known for running and jumping?”
“Goodbye, Draco,” Andromeda calls over her shoulder.
“Yes yes, goodbye. Ta.”
The door opens and shuts. For a long moment Harry doesn’t speak at all. Teddy starts kicking his legs behind him.
“I feel like I missed a lot,” Harry says finally, taking himself and Teddy over to the couch.
Andromeda sips her tea, her brows raised at him, “You have. I’ll remind you one more time that I told you you wouldn’t like my choice. But he and Teddy get on quite well, obviously.”
“So he’s staying, basically?”
She shrugs, “Hm, not quite. I still think it’d be better if Teddy stayed with you full time.”
“That would mean Malfoy living with me full time.”
“Yes,” she says over the rim of her mug, “It would also mean having someone in the house that can help you get rid of Grimmauld Place’s… quirks.”
“What?”
Andromeda sets her mug down on the coffee table and crosses one leg carelessly over the other. Harry wonders if it’s a Black family trait to toss one's leg carelessly over the other. When will Teddy start doing it?
“Draco works in a special kind of real estate. He cleanses magical homes that were used for… nefarious purposes, if you will.”
“Cleanses them… how?”
“Do I look like I know?” Andromeda gestures around her home, “Ted and I bought this one and made it magical. But most magical homes are different. They’re built with magic, woven by magic, and are in of themselves a completely magical entity. It’s a complicated kind of magic I’ve never cared for.”
“And Malfoy… does?”
“Apparently he’s quite good. The ministry brought him on a few times to fix homes that were used by…”
“I see,” Harry says, because he does sort of get it. It would make sense for Malfoy to get into a profession like that considering his home was Voldemort’s base for a majority of the second war. Maybe it’s his way of making penance for what he did. It’s not necessarily a bad job either. There’s been talk in the auror department on what they should do with all of the sprawling pureblood estates that have since gone abandoned but are still severely tainted with enough dark magic to make them inhospitable.
Well, if they’ve started hiring ex-Deatheaters to cleanse them, maybe they’ve gone desperate. Not like Malfoy was a particularly evil Deatheater but…
Still.
Harry likes having Teddy on the weekends because he likes spending time with Teddy, but Grimmauld Place isn’t exactly the sort of home he wants a four year old to stay in for much longer than two days at a time. Sirius did his best before he… but the home is still rife with dark secrets and an energy that at times sends Teddy waking from nightmares crying so hard he throws up. Harry has similar nightmares, albeit for very different reasons.
“I’ll consider it.”
“I’ll also remind you that where I’m more than happy to be a grandmother, I’m not in the market to raise another child,” her eyes go warm as her gaze drops to the back of Teddy’s head, “So consider things quickly and heed my advice. Teddy likes Draco, that should be enough to inform your decision.”
Irritation darts up his spine and prickles at the back of his neck. Out of all the nannies he tried, it had to be Draco that Teddy would take a liking to. It’s just the sort of situation he would find himself in.
“Give me the weekend to set things up.”
Andromeda smiles, “Good lad.”
Over the weekend, Harry decided that the best place to keep Draco was the 3rd floor bedroom. Not only is it on the floor above Harry’s room, but it also has an en suite bathroom, which meant seeing him less since he and Teddy share the bathroom between their rooms on the 2nd floor. Since Harry hasn’t quite figured out how to get the rest of the bathrooms in working order, this seems like the best set up to him.. Sometimes, he feels like Grimmauld Place is punishing him for having abandoned it for a year after the war was over.
Regardless, the weekend was good, and on Monday morning, Harry apparates himself and Teddy back to Andromeda’s with a decision he knows Ron and Hermione both would severely disagree with. But, they’re not godparents, so their opinion on the matter doesn’t quite carry as much weight.
Andromeda and Malfoy sit on the porch, their legs tossed over their knees, engrossed in their conversation while cradling cups of tea in their hands. Now that they’re actually next to each other, Harry suddenly sees the family resemblance in the cut of their cheekbones and the fullness of their mouths along with their eyes. Sirius had them too; gray eyes, sickle silver and as piercing as the full moon on a black night.
He never realized just how much Malfoy looks like his mother. This translates to a likeness to Andromeda that makes Harry feel as if he’s swallowed sand. He remembers Malfoy always being the spitting image of his father from the near white hair to the way he looked down his nose at everyone as if they were worth nothing.
Teddy peels away from Harry, taking him entirely out of his thoughts enough to wave politely and follow his godson up the stone path towards the house.
Malfoy sets his cup down just in time to catch Teddy in a fierce one armed hug, “Hello you,” he says, “Had a good weekend did we?”
“The best!” Teddy sneaks a biscuit off the plate between his nanny and his grandmother with a clever grin as if neither of them notice him. The look Malfoy and Andromeda exchange says they both noticed but they’re choosing to let Teddy think he got away with it.
Harry sticks his hands awkwardly in his pockets. Best to rip the bandaid off now anyway.
“I cleaned up one of the spare rooms in Grimmauld Place for you, that way you can… stay.”
Malfoy just hums, “Very well, I’ll send my things later. Has this one packed?”
“No,” Andromeda says, “He hasn’t.”
Harry’s about to offer to help with that. He has the time before work anyway. After all, he arrived nearly an hour early for the exact purpose of packing up Teddy’s things to send over to Grimmauld Place.
“Well,” Malfoy continues, acting as if Harry wasn’t just about to speak, “Since we’re seeing horses today anyway, we can simply pack before we leave and spend one more afternoon with Grandma Andromeda, does that sound nice?”
Teddy grins as if this is the best news of his life, and it very well could be. He turns to look at Harry and grins even wider. His grin is contagious and Harry finds himself smiling as if everything will work out. Maybe it will, but he’s not hopeful enough to believe blindly that everything will be sunshine and rainbows between Malfoy and himself. Granted, Harry spends nearly eight hours at work a day and that’s not considering his frequent need to stay late.
There are still 16 hours left in the day where something could go wrong. He decides he’ll tackle that issue once Malfoy is moved in. Over the weekend, he also made a small list of house rules to keep things as orderly and professional as possible. Going through six different nanny contracts definitely gave him an idea for how things ought to go between he and Malfoy.
“I’ll pack his things,” Harry says, toeing his shoes off before opening the front door, “I’ll get his stuff packed and sent off.”
“If you’re sure, Potter.”
“I’m sure.”
Malfoy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Today, his hair is held up by his wand. The tip of it points away from his head like a unicorn’s horn, “Well, I’ll start breakfast then.”
“You don’t have to,” Andromeda and Harry say at the same time.
Teddy giggles. Harry shuts the door behind himself and bounds up the stairs to Teddy’s room and tries his very hardest not to let Malfoy get under his skin before he even starts living with him.
As predicted, Ron tries to give him unsolicited advice on the nanny Malfoy situation.
“He’s plotting something, you know.”
“I don’t think Andromeda would insist on his living with me if he was planning something nefarious,” Harry says as they take their usual patrol through Knockturn Alley. This area of Hogsmeade has basically become a ghost town, yet they have to patrol here anyway. Honestly, if anyone was brave enough to set up shop here, Harry would be grateful if only for the break in his routine. Nothing is exciting anymore. “Besides, he’s literally the only nanny Teddy has gotten on with and I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Ron rolls his eyes, “Oh yes, because the judgment of a four year old is worth taking into account.”
That gives Harry pause. He whirls on Ron in an instant, his earlier irritation flaring into something hot and dangerous, “And what do you know about a child’s judgment? Look– I’m telling you the situation so you don’t go in attack dog mode if you come over and happen to see Malfoy or if you and Hermione are out and see Malfoy with Teddy. I didn’t tell you because I wanted your opinion.”
Ron throws his hands up in surrender as if he’s placating a hippogriff, “Alright, alright. You don’t have to bite my head off. Sheesh.”
“Tell Hermione I don’t want her opinion either.”
“Mate, I couldn’t stop her from giving you her opinion if I wanted to.”
Harry sighs.
The three of them apparate to Grimmauld Place a little after 6 o’clock in the evening. The summer sun is still a blister in the sky and all of London drenched in a layer of humidity that leaves Harry sweating through his auror robes. Teddy and Malfoy both look entirely unbothered, although they both smell so strongly of horse and barn that Harry imagines that outweighs being bothered by the typical London weather. He imagines what they must have done. Did they really only go to see horses or did they ride? Does Malfoy even know how? Or did he simply think it’d be an activity Teddy would enjoy?
Harry plucks a piece of hay out of Teddy’s hair and twists it between his fingers, “Welcome to Grimmauld Place,” he tells Malfoy. Malfoy merely hums to acknowledge that he’s listening but he says nothing in reply.
Unceremoniously, Harry opens the heavy door and allows them inside. Teddy runs in first and makes a beeline up the stairs for his bedroom. For what, Harry has no idea. Malfoy follows after him but stops at the stairs, leaning heavily against the old banister. The wall is a mess of old wallpaper and dark, aged marks where the heads of house elves used to be. Harry traces the shapes of the ancient frames with his eyes before stepping forward.
“Malfoy, are you alright?”
Malfoy hums again.
“Words would be nice,” his irritation sparks again. He didn’t think Malfoy would be difficult literally three steps into his house. “Because I need you to–”
“I need a moment, Potter.”
It’s not the words that make Harry’s words dry up in his mouth, it’s the way Malfoy says them; panted out as if he’s out of breath. His knuckles go white from how hard he’s gripping the banister. Harry worries the skin of them might split.
After several long seconds of standing hesitantly behind Malfoy, he straightens up and shakes his head as if shaking off cobwebs, “Sorry about that.”
“What happened?”
Malfoy turns around and gestures all around him at the state of the house, “I mean, there’s something to be said about the fact that even generational wealth doesn’t equal style but,” he laughs breathlessly, but it’s not exactly an amused sound so much as an exasperated sound, “The energy here is quite awful. You’re quite lucky I’m here to fix it for you.”
“You’re here to be my nanny.”
“And lucky for you, you’ve got a buy one get one deal. This can’t be good for Teddy, you know.”
“The energy of the home?” Harry already knows, but he pretends to be dull just to see if he can get Malfoy talking more. This is the most they’ve talked in nearly three years and he finds himself wanting for a conversation that doesn’t center either his godson or the state of the auror department or cowardly purebloods or–
“It’s Dark. Not just magical dark but… everything Dark. There’s so much pain in these walls. Surely you feel it too, don’t you Potter?”
Harry nods wordlessly.
Malfoy sighs. He looks relieved. His eyes shut as he knocks his head against the wall, still recovering from whatever threw him off when he came inside, “Grimmauld Place doesn’t suit you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Potter,” his eyes flick open, sharp, bright, dangerous and stabbing right through Harry’s soul. The truth hurts more than he’d like to admit, “This is an over glorified cupboard of a home. You should be in a cottage in– I don’t know, Cumbria or Cornwall or the bloody mountains– anywhere else. The floor is checkerboard, it’s disgusting.”
Harry feels gutted at Malfoy’s use of the word cupboard and he stands at the bottom of the staircase raw and emotionally bleeding. He’d never thought to use that word before. Really, he’s only ever used Grimmauld Place as more of a pit stop. A place to sleep after work and entertain Teddy on the weekends.
“I know,” Harry admits, “But this is… what I have right now. It’s home for now.”
Malfoy stares at him quite blankly before rolling his eyes and shaking his head, “Ever the bleeding martyr, I take it. I thought Godfatherhood would change that.”
“Oh fuck off,” Harry laughs, “Don’t start with that.”
“Saint Potter,” Malfoy singsongs as he turns around to finally go up the steps, still singing, “Living in a house where Darkness dwelled, hoping his light will be enough, he doesn’t know what happened between these walls,” he traces his fingers across the shadow frames, skimming his nails over the jacquard wallpaper. Harry hates that he knows what kind of wallpaper it is, “I’ll find your secrets, 12 Grimmauld Place.”
“You don’t have to sing.”
Although Harry wouldn’t mind if he kept it up. Grimmauld Place gets eerily quiet in a way Harry can’t stand. He hates how comforting Malfoy’s presence is. He hates that he’d rather hear his mocking singing than the silence of the house, he hates that he should be hating Malfoy for even being here.
“Houses like singing, it’s a sign of life,” Malfoy says unsingingly, “You should try it sometime. Oh, by the way, I have a cat. I didn’t bring him tonight just in case because I wanted to ask if you’d be alright with an animal in the house.”
Harry is stunned by Malfoy’s politeness.
And then more stunned by the idea of him having a cat– a pet, it just seems very… UnMalfoyish.
“Er, I guess thats fine. Although I’ll warn you, Teddy gets excited around animals.”
“I noticed that today,” Malfoy makes it to the top of the stairs and turns around again. “Bergamont likes kids anyway, so that should be fine.”
“Bergamont?”
Malfoy nods and starts up the next staircase, “Berg for short.”
“What… kind of cat is Berg?”
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked,” and he actually sounds happy Harry did, “I have no bloody clue. I found him in London and drunkenly brought him home last year. He’s the best.”
He wants to ask if Malfoy makes a habit out of wandering around London drunk, but he doesn’t get the chance. Teddy bursts out of his bedroom and darts between Harry’s legs to get to Malfoy, immediately tugging on his shirt. Malfoy settles his hand gently at Teddy’s back to guide him up the rest of the stairs. Teddy leans against him for more and Malfoy obliges him by fluffing his hair up with his fingers.
Something warm and uncomfortable burns at Harry’s chest. Usually, Teddy only lets Harry mess with his hair. It feels odd to see anyone else doing it, but especially Malfoy.
So he talks.
“Your room is the first door to the right. There’s an en suite bathroom. You can do whatever you’d like to it.” Harry opens the door for him and flicks the light on. Not only is it one of the only rooms Harry was able to clean properly, but it’s also the only room that seemed well, homely. There’s a four post bed in the middle of the room with an amethyst colored bedspread. In fact, everything is quite amethyst colored. Harry has no idea whose room this used to be.
But Malfoy walks in and looks around, stepping in a small circle to take everything in, his brows pinching together in thought.
Then he reaches for his hair and tugs his wand free. His locks go spilling down to his shoulders, curling into soft ringlets at the ends. Harry scarcely breathes at the sight as Malfoy rakes his hair away from his face with his free hand and closes his eyes.
“What’s he doing?” Teddy whispers, gripping onto Harry’s pant leg for dear life.
“I don’t know,” Harry whispers back, bending down to scoop Teddy into his arms. Teddy clings to him immediately but looks openly at Malfoy as he paces the perimeter of the room like a tiger in a cage.
Then, he says, “Accio jar.”
A drawer flings open from the vanity and a jar flies out. Malfoy catches it in his free hand easily.
“Lid.”
The lid comes second. Then, he holds his wand between his teeth so he can clutch the jar in one hand while holding the lid between his first two fingers of the same hand. He grabs his wand again and takes a breath.
Harry doesn’t recognize the wand movement at all. Malfoy moves it as if he’s conducting an invisible orchestra as he begins chanting,
“Converte tenebras in lucem, finire dolorem, fac totum. Converte tenebras in lucem, finire dolorem, fac totum…”
Teddy gasps with awe.
Harry shares a similar feeling. There’s no other word to describe the feeling bursting through him as the darkness in the walls Harry thought was a metaphor bleed out at the same time something bright pulses through Malfoy’s whole body. The darkness swirls like a stampede around him. His fingers find his own wand but Malfoy shakes his head and continues chanting.
Converte tenebras in lucem, finire dolorem, fac totum.
The words ring in Harry’s ears like wind chimes, delicate and tingling on a windy spring day. It feels easier to breathe somehow, like the first breath taken after being underwater for too long.
And then all of that darkness funnels into the jar. Malfoy drops his wand in favor of capping the jar and tightening the lid. He gives the jar a firm shake once, twice, three times.
The darkness disappears and leaves something blue and shimmering in it’s wake.
Malfoy sighs, “Ah, there we are. Hello, Grimmauld Place. You poor thing,” he pats the wall. “I cannot believe you were good once. That’s just mind boggling. Potter, look at this,” he shakes the jar again, “It’s like– oh I need to sit, holy fuck– Teddy, never curse, it’s unbecoming of a young wizard.”
Teddy moves first, dropping out of Harry’s arms and picking Malfoy’s wand up on his way over to him. Malfoy sits at the edge of the bed with his head hanging between his knees. Harry enters second. Somehow, the room actually seems brighter. The bedspread isn’t so dismal, the dark wood furniture gleams with a fresh shine and the silver hardware sparkles in a new light.
“What was that?” Harry asks.
Malfoy doesn’t pick his head up, so his words come out muffled when he says, “Very ancient house magic. I wouldn’t recommend trying it, it’ll take the wind right out of you. Well, maybe not you specifically considering you’re Saint Potter, but you know what I mean. Teddy, come sit next to me, I need to borrow your youthfulness for a moment.”
Teddy climbs up with a bright grin dimpling his cheeks, a grin that gets even bigger when Malfoy suddenly snatches him in his arms and falls backwards against the mattress. Harry himself can’t help but smile as he watches them. He can’t help but feel… hopeful. His eyes find that glittering blue jar again. The magic swirls and twinkles like a galaxy of stars trapped in the confines of a jar that might have once held a salve of some kind.
Harry leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest to offer himself armor between he and Malfoy.
“I think we should talk about the house rules.”
“By all means, Potter. I’ve been waiting for you to give them to me all evening,” he sits up again, his hair mussed and frizzy from how he laid in bed only moments ago. Teddy pops up after him and clings to his side, smushing his cheek against his ribs like Malfoy might disappear at a moment’s notice.
The jar hums.
“Ignore it,” Malfoy says when Teddy and Harry both glance at the jar. “It’s sorting itself out, trying to figure out what it wants to be.”
The magic in the jar turns pinker than amortentia and nearly three times as glittery. Harry gapes at it.
“The rules, Potter.”
“Right,” he clears his throat and shifts his focus as if he’s about to give a duty report to his department and lays down the rules he came up with over the weekend.
- No visitors, even for Teddy
- No sharing of Grimmauld Place’s location to anyone (Harry’s privacy gets invaded more than he’d like to admit, but he doesn’t tell Malfoy that detail)
- No going into the attic or basement without Harry’s permission
- Absolutely no communication with any wizarding papers but especially the prophet.
The fourth rule makes Malfoy roll his eyes, but after Harry gives his rules, he throws his hand into the air.
“What, Malfoy?”
“Two questions. One, am I allowed on the furniture, two, what do you two do for meals?”
The first question catches Harry off guard because it’s the exact question he’s asked every single time he’s visited someone else’s home. The Dursleys seldom ever let him use the furniture and if he got caught sitting on the couch without permission, he was punished. He hadn’t quite let the habit of asking go. But to hear Malfoy ask the question too makes him feel… well, not good.
“Of course you can be on the furniture, why wouldn’t you be allowed?”
He shrugs a little too casually for Harry’s comfort, “I wasn’t allowed on a majority of the furniture back home. Anyway, you ignored my second question. What do you two do for meals?”
“Takeaway!” Teddy hums.
“Yeah, takeaway.”
Malfoy scoffs, “Oh, but you can’t always have takeaway… Merlin help me, you really do only have– okay, you know what? I’ll make a rule. Family mealtimes, homecooked meals, I’ll handle it.”
“What?” Harry blusters, “You can’t just–”
“Tch! I’m the nanny, I know what’s good for the child and a growing boy needs home cooked meals with nutrients so he doesn’t stay the size of a house elf his whole life.”
“Family mealtime is a bit ridiculous don’t you think?”
“No. I think it’s a good opportunity for you and Teddy to talk to each other about your days and spend some quality time together.”
Well, when Malfoy puts it that way it doesn’t sound quite so unreasonable.
“Deal?” Malfoy asks.
“Fine,” Harry concedes, “But we’re still having takeaway on Saturdays.”