Chapter Text
The first time Draco met Harry, his mood was awfully sour.
Today was Draco’s ninth ever Christmas, and his father had told him he had to wait to open his presents until their guest arrived.
The guest was of course Severus Snape, there for only a delivery of mail, but was sure to be roped into the festivities.
They stood in front of the fireplace waiting for the floo connection, little Draco tapping his foot with his arms crossed angrily.
They saw Snape often enough, and it wasn’t like he was particularly fun to be around. Draco didn’t understand why he had to sit around for them to get there.
“Stop that tapping,” Lucious quipped, his cane hitting Draco’s shin, “Severus is bringing along a guest I imagine you’d quite like to meet. I suggest you behave.”
“Father, I don’t care about guests,” Draco whined, turning away from the floo and to his father, “I just want to open my presents!”
“You may open your presents after the guests arrive.”
“But guests are so boring,” Draco whined, huffing at the sharp look his father sent him before settling back to his side.
The sound of an arrival by floo signaled the arrival of the guest and Draco rolled his eyes.
A boy Draco’s age emerged from the fireplace alongside Snape, and Draco had to raise a brow at his appearance. His hair was an untamed mop atop his head, strands flying every which way, his round glasses sitting sideways on his nose.
He had on a white button up under a green vest, black pants and a black cloak thrown across his shoulders.
Draco looked him up and down, his face obviously portraying his emotions, “Pleasure to meet you…”
“Pleasure to meet you too,” Harry said distantly, his green eyes flicking about the room curiously.
He’d never been outside Snape’s vicinity, which usually meant dark rooms and the smell of potions. He didn’t often get to go to people’s houses.
“Severus,” Lucious greeted, looking up from Harry. Lucious himself had never met Harry. The one condition Dumbledore had set for his living with Snape was that he was not to be exposed to the wizarding world as a whole. It was on Dumbledore's word that Harry was allowed here today at all.
Harry had no friends that were wizards. Or any that were muggleborn. Snape’s house was pretty isolated and not very inviting to young children.
Snape said nothing in reply but nodded to Lucious.
Lucious grit his teeth in a thin smile back, “Do you have the parcel?"
Severus pulled out a small letter from the inside of his cloak and presented it to Lucious.
Lucius nodded, then turned to the children, “Draco, why don’t you show him the peacocks?”
Harry’s green eyes widened in anticipation, then they flicked up to Snape, awaiting the small nod he would give for approval.
As soon as Snape gave the go-ahead, Harry headed for the door, not checking if Draco was following. Draco gave his father a mean glare before heading out behind Harry.
Lucius took the paper from Snape’s hand and examined it, sighing.
The two boys ended up outside in the vast snowy courtyard of Malfoy Manor, Draco introducing Harry to the haughty peacocks strutting about.
Harry looked in absolute wonder at the birds before him.
“Haven’t you ever seen a peacock before? I thought Mr. Snape had a big yard.” Draco hummed, poking at the crumbly snow on the ground.
Harry blinked, looked at Draco’s hand for a moment then up to Draco’s eyes, “Severus doesn’t like animals. But sometimes we watch the deer in the forest with a magnifying spell.”
“Oh, that’s kinda lame.” Draco said. He knew Snape didn’t like animals, the man didn’t like anything, but not even peacocks in the yard? What was he, poor?
Harry raised a brow at this, but said nothing and went back to petting the bird.
They stayed outside for another fifteen minutes before Draco’s teeth started to chatter, and he trudged back inside, quipping at Harry to hurry up.
Once inside, the house elves helped dry the wet hems of their pants and socks, and the two sat in front of a lit fireplace in a tearoom.
Draco had his hands palm-out towards the fire, and Harry was criss-crossed on the carpet some feet away, examining the room in great detail.
Draco’s face was adamantly unhappy, "Have you opened your presents yet? What did you get?”
“…I got a few books and a broom.” Harry replied, his fingers finding a stray string on his trousers and picking at it.
“That’s it? Merlin, I would have thought Snape’s son would get a few new cauldrons a year.”
“The cauldron I got last year works fine. And I’m not Severus’ son.” Harry said, his brows furrowed in an unreadable expression.
An unamused expression crossed Draco’s face, looking Harry up and down, “You’re not? Why’d you come here with him, then?”
“Because the sitter was busy,”
“So you live with him?”
“Yes.”
“Then he’s your dad.”
“He’s not, I know who my dad is.”
“…”
“Severus said he didn’t know him very well, but my mom was a kind person. He said I have her eyes,” Harry finished.
“So what, your parents are in a different country?” Draco asked, turning himself to face Harry.
“My parents are dead.”
Draco blinked, “…Oh. Sorry.”
Harry made another unreadable expression, “It’s okay I guess. I didn’t know them.”
“What house were they in? Slytherin?”
The string on Harry’s trousers suddenly got a lot more interesting, “I don’t know. Severus doesn’t talk about stuff like that.”
“Well, were they even wizards? Your house is like what you’re known for,” Draco barked out a laugh.
“…” Harry stared blankly at him.
“…” Draco shrunk a bit under the stare.
Harry stood from the small carpet, moving to look at the paintings more closely, “Both of my parents were magic.”
Draco stared at the fire, “Oh.”
They sat in the awkward silence for a moment before Draco asked, “What’s your name, anyway?”
“…My name?”
Draco raised a brow, “Uhm. That’s what I asked.”
“Er, it’s Harry.” Harry said, scratching his cheek.
Draco ‘pft’ed at that, wondering what was so confusing about telling your own name.
“I suppose you know my name already?” Draco smirked.
Harry blinked, “It’s Malfoy, right?”
“That’s my last name, so I guess so. But my first name will be even more famous than the Malfoy name.”
“Oh. So what’s your first name?”
Draco looked flabbergasted at this, “You don’t know my name? Do you live under an absolute rock?”
Harry blinked and shook his head dismissively, turning back to his painting.
“Uh, it’s Draco? Draco Malfoy? Duh.” Draco rolled his eyes, standing up and coming next to Harry. Draco was perhaps an inch taller than Harry side-by-side.
“Hm. Cool,” Harry hummed, moving along to the next painting in the tea room.
“I know it is. What’s your last name, anyway? You only said Harry, and your last name isn’t Snape, is it?” Draco asked, following behind.
“My last name? It’s Po-“
A loud rap on the door made the two boys jump, a little house elf poked his head into the room, "Excuse this one, Master Draco. Master Lucius is calling Master Draco and Master Harry to Lunchtime now.”
“Thank you,” Harry said, and the two boys set off for lunch.
By the time Harry left and Draco could open his presents, it was the cusp of dinnertime.
—
Draco’s second time meeting Harry was on Harry’s tenth birthday, after Harry had requested an outing as a present. Snape had brought him to the Malfoy manor, because that was the only place inside the wizarding world that Harry could go without being mobbed and exposed immediately.
Harry had gotten taller since the last time Draco had seen him, about an inch taller than Draco now. He had brought along his broom so at least the two could play quidditch.
Draco didn’t much like Harry at first, thinking he was awfully boring, but the more he dug into Harry about his personal life, the more interested he was in it all.
Snape wasn’t the type of person to take in a child because they were alone. He might call authorities and make sure the child was safe, but he wouldn’t take in a kid. This prospect confused Draco to no end.
Draco learned that Harry knew nothing about his birth parents. Besides a few small compliments about his mother, he didn’t know anything. Even the mystery surrounding their absence went unsolved. Not that Harry seemed at all curious. Draco was sure Snape shut it down any time Harry asked about anything, because how else could he be so uncurious about it?
High above the grassy grounds of Malfoy manor, Harry threw a ball at Draco which went whizzing past his head. Draco was unimpressed, as he had been prying Harry for answers to no avail for an hour.
“What do you mean you know nothing?” Draco groaned, pulling up in his broom to rise a bit higher, kicking Harry’s broom with his heel.
Harry watched the enchanted ball fall back into his hand and he glared back at Draco, “What do you want me to say? Severus doesn’t like it when I ask about it. He says I’ll learn with time. Let’s just play quidditch and stop asking questions.”
Draco groaned again, much louder and more annoyingly, begrudgingly swiping the ball from Harry’s hand and setting it up for a seekers match.
The boys played quidditch for a few more hours until they were sweaty and dead tired, descending to the ground on their brooms.
Inside they served Harry a cake and gave him presents, from the Malfoy’s he received both a pocket watch with the emblem of a snake on the back in silver, and a tin of Gerald’s Green Dragon Mints, which let him blow fire from his mouth after eating one. From Severus he received a book he had been eyeing in a magazine, and five galleons in a small pouch.
—
Over the next year, Severus, Dumbledore, and Minerva had decided it was best to start slowly introducing Harry to ‘normal’. Which meant socializing him.
They started with more meetings with Draco, after telling the boy not to tell Harry Potter that he’s Harry Potter.
Draco’s reaction to this had been an open-mouthed, “He’s Harry Potter?!”
After a long winded explanation of the situation that was certainly not the young blonde boy's business, he agreed to keep Harry’s past a secret from him until the adults decided to reveal it in a meeting.
The second wizard child Harry was able to meet was the son of Cantankerous Nott, Theodore, who was told the same as Draco, but had taken it better by a large stride.
The three children got together often and played lots of quidditch, Harry liked Theodore much more than Draco, who seemed a bit immature compared to the book-loving Theodore who Harry could talk to without being bombarded by questions about his life.
Big Draco whined when they hung out without him, and the meet ups always happened at Draco’s house, so it was unavoidable for Harry to always be around Draco as well.
—
Three months before the start of term, in June of Harry’s tenth year of life, with one month before his eleventh birthday, Dumbledore sat Harry down and explained everything in great detail.
What shocked Harry most was not the circumstances of his parents death, but the fact that Severus was able to keep it a secret for so long. Or maybe he was just so hurt by that fact that he couldn’t think of anything else.
He learned he had living family in London, but they hated magic and he probably would have died in their care. He learned that he was famous, and that he would most likely be overwhelmed if he went outside.
Harry was already overwhelmed sitting alone in a room with only Dumbledore, he didn’t want to imagine fans crowding around him.
The weight of the words felt heavy on Harry’s shoulders, and he was suddenly angry. Draco knew, he had to have. With all his questions about Harry’s past. Did Theo know as well? It seemed everyone but Harry knew, and was able to keep it from him his entire life.
Harry was angry. He was so angry. It carried into his first year, he refused to look at Snape and forget about the socialization because he would forever hate Theo and Draco for keeping this from him.
Draco knew about his parents and still asked about them like Harry should have a clue?
Harry hated everyone, he refused to even go to Diagon Alley with Severus, having to go with the man he had met a select few times for babysitting jobs. Rubeus Hagrid.
Harry’s anger carried through to the people who tried to shake his hand on the street, where he’d give a clipped reply and a too-hard shake.
He’d been to the Gringotts bank before with Severus, but he’d never known there was a Potter fortune. It made him angrier, knowing he’d been so close to it.
He ran into Draco in Madam Malkin’s and had ignored the whining blonde completely until he was finally leaving the shop, completing his shopping while trying not to be angry at the world the whole time.
He hadn’t needed a pewter cauldron or any potions books, as he was already highly versed in the world of potion work and had everything readily available at home.
Hagrid handed Harry the ticket to platform nine and three-quarters, and Harry spent the rest of his summer reading in a quiet corner and ignoring everyone.