Work Text:
Dear Harry,
If it is convenient to you, I shall send someone to call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven p.m. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays.
Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you soon.
I am yours most sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry was awoken from his position against his window by the streetlamp going out, as though the darkness were an alarm. He pressed his nose against the cold glass and squinted as he saw a limousine sail down from the air and gracefully land in front of the house without so much as a squeal of tire on asphalt. His eyes widened in shock as a familiar girl with a head of long white-blond hair stepped out and made her way towards the front door.
He was so engrossed in disbelief that he didn't move until the doorbell rang and his uncle cried out "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?"
Remembering that he never warned his aunt and uncle that Dumbledore might be sending someone to take him away, he bolted out of bed, clambered over his unfilled trunk, and opened the door just in time to hear Dracaena say "Good evening, I am Dracaena Malfoy. You must be Mr. Dursley. A pleasure".
From the top of the stairs, he managed to see Malfoy give a polite and reserved curtsy to Vernon. Harry could never recall a time he saw her in casual clothes before now, but he had to make the regrettable observation that she made a blouse and skirt look as elegant as her Yule Ball dress. Vernon, for his part, looked even more like a pig in clothes than normal when standing next to her. Petunia and Dudley looked out from the living room in curiosity and both were equally agape at the sight of the noble young woman calling in the dead of night.
Finally remembering himself, Vernon caught his breath and replied "Likewise Miss, er, Malfoy. But what in blazes are you doing at our doorstep at this hour?"
Malfoy straightened herself back up and quirked a cosmetically perfect eyebrow. "Did Potter not inform you that someone would be coming to fetch him tonight?"
Before the Dursleys could finish sputtering out the name "Potter" in shock, Harry made himself known by loudly coming halfway down the stairs and saying "I wasn't sure if you were able to make it. Things have been hectic as of late, after all."
Everyone downstairs turned at his voice, with Malfoy going from reserved to stone faced at Harry's voice. "Are you at least packed?"
"...I have a few more things to put away," Harry lied, "You can have Aunt Dursley give you tea while you wait if you want."
"No," Dracaena quickly turned the suggestion away, as though the idea of having muggles entertain her would give her a nasty flu, "I can help you finish your packing," She turned and gave Vernon another curtsey, "If you'll excuse me."
She then glided her way past a completely befuddled Dursley and made her way up the steps, letting her eyes fall on the family portraits on her way up. At some point she narrowed her eyes and paused, but let her usual mask of haughty indifference fall back onto her face and followed Harry into his bedroom, shutting the door behind them.
Harry had to admit to himself that having a girl in his bedroom for the first time in his life (outside those times Hermione or Ginny visited the boy's dormitory) was an embarrassment. His unpacked belongings were strewn about the room, and the many newspapers he was reading were cluttering his bed. It gave the very good impression that he preferred his sleeping quarters to look like a roost.
Dracaena, naturally, took note and sniffed. "Rather unbecoming for a wizard of your breeding, Potter. The Weasley boy must be a bad influence."
"You can always wait outside," Harry retorted. Dracaena turned and held his glare for a breath before turning away with a "hmph." She crossed her arms and stood with her chin raised as Harry set about gathering his belongings into his trunk. Despite what she said in the doorway, she clearly had no intention of stooping as low as helping Harry pack his luggage.
After about two minutes, Dracaena grew bored of simply ignoring him and cast another glance around the room, her eyes falling on Hedwig's cage. She softly approached and held her finger out for Hedwig to nibble on. Apparently satisfied with what she tasted, Hedwig leaned her face down into Dracaena's hand and allowed her to begin petting the owl's head. Her soft and gentle motions indicated experience in giving affection to owls, and her face seemed to have some of her iciness melt away as something far more pleasant showed itself. Harry only realized he was staring when Dracaena turned to investigate why the sounds of packing stopped, at which point he quickly looked away and hurriedly started folding his school robes. Dracaena looked on for another beat before turning back and giving Hedwig more affection.
"Any idea why Professor Dumbledore had you be the one to fetch me?" Harry finally asked, his invisibility cloak neatly tucked at the top corner of the chest.
"The headmaster said to keep that on your person at all times, as a precaution. Couldn't say, but I would imagine that your Weasley friend still isn't allowed to drive his car, after that stunt the two of you pulled in second year."
Hedwig seemed to get agitated at her words and ruffled her neck feathers. Dracaena frowned and pulled away for a moment to wait for her to calm back down.
"...You aren't in any of the family portraits."
"What?" Harry looked up as he was about to stuff his mortar and pestle and caught Dracaena's side eye. Processing what she just said, he shrugged and went back to work, "The Dursleys are one of those types that resent having to raise a wizard. They made it a point while I was growing up to impress that I would never be part of the family. Part of their effort to quash the magic out of me."
Dracaena flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave a self-satisfied huff, "Naturally, muggles would be put off at having one of their betters around. We should have dominated the lot of them when we had the chance". Harry chose not to rise to her words and redoubled his efforts at getting his magic tomes sorted. Seeing that Hedwig had settled down, she went back to running her finger through her feathers. "...They're still your aunt and uncle. That must have counted for something."
Harry gave a loud snort at that. "Want to know something. This isn't the bedroom I had growing up. You actually walked right over it on your way up the stairs."
Dracaena paused for a brief instant as she processed what she just heard. She whirled around, her eyes as widened in shock as her ingrained instinct to maintain a ladylike air would allow, "You were kept in a stairway cupboard?!"
"Until I was twelve. That's the address at top of my acceptance letter into Hogwarts. 'Number four, Privet Drive, the cupboard under the stairs,'" He snapped his brass telescope shut and tossed it on top of his clothes, "This used to be the room Dudley kept his toys in. They decided that whether or not someone could do magic was sufficient grounds on whether or not someone could be considered a person worthy of love. Sound familiar at all?"
Harry immediately regretted how outright bitter he sounded, but he did enjoy how flustered Dracaena got at his words, her face red and her voice coming out in splutters and stops as she tried to form any kind of rebuttal. Leaving her to it, Harry looked around his room and nodded to himself. "All finished packing," he snapped his trunk shut and lifted it up with one hand, and then turned and scooped up Hedwig's cage in his other, "Let's get going. Ladies first," he said, nodding towards his bedroom door.
Malfoy was still rooted to the spot in indignation before seeming to remember herself and regain her composure. Harry noted that she had gained that steely glint in her silver eyes that appears right before she does something drastic, like make a dangerous broomstick maneuver to grab the snitch, or call Hermione a slur.
"Yes, quite," she said, flicking her wand up and levitating his trunk with a Leviosa charm, "Special permission from Dumbledore given the potential danger for this assignment," she waved off Harry's questioning look at her casual use of underage magic, "let no-one say that being the chief warlock's courier comes without privileges. Now follow my lead."
She strode out and down the stairs, the trunk following behind her a foot off the ground. Harry privately envied how well the heavy trunk was able to follow along, turning itself around corners and angling itself down the stairs. It seemed to all the world that she had effectively turned his luggage into a well behaved animal.
Dracaena gracefully reached the landing and turned to the Dursleys, who had all gathered in the living room and were whispering to each other at the extraordinary circumstances befalling them tonight, "That's all taken care of. Now, onto the second order of business. Please have a seat," she gave her wand another flick and a couch appeared in the center of the room, another flick and all three of the Dursleys instantly snapped onto it as though on a track. The couch was just slightly too small for all three to fit comfortably, Vernon and Dudley's considerable bulk quashing Petunia between her son and the arm rest she was butted up against.
Before they had time to properly react, Dracaena smoothly pulled a sealed envelope from her person that she opened with a practiced flick of her pointer finger. "A missive from Dumbledore."
Unfolding the letter within, she read aloud, "Dear Mr., Mr., and Mrs. Dursley, whether this letter finds you in good health is of no concern of mine. As you may be aware, the wizard Lord Voldemort," she gave a slight cough at the name, the only break for the entire reading "has reappeared, a man who has tried to kill Harry on a number of occasions and will most assuredly make another attempt sometime in the near future. With the loss of Harry's godfather, his only sure protection is the charm I placed upon your home when I left him in your care fifteen years past. However, this protection will come to an end when Harry becomes an adult on his 17th birthday, so I must ask that he return to your care at the next summer break before his birthday, as tawdry and lackluster your care has proven. Yours truly, Albus Dumbledore."
Dracaena closed the letter and had it disappear in a practiced motion. Her cold eyes fell on the Dursleys, who were processing what they had just heard to the best of their meager abilities. "His godfather...adult at 17...what in blazes..." Vernon sputtered while his son and wife looked at each other in worry and then back at the woman carved from ice in the center of their living room.
"No idea what he meant by that last one," Dracaena's tone carried the same frost and steadiness as her father's, "Going by your son, it's clear that your neglect has been much healthier for the boy than your love and affection could have ever been."
Dudley frowned at the jab. "What's wrong with me?" he muttered under his breath, his beady eyes furrowed and his striped pajamas straining under his fat.
"Once the charm does wear off," Dracaena continued, "I would recommend going into hiding. The Dark Lord is infamous for his tenacity, and will most assuredly be hunting down any measures on how to get to Harry, distant relatives included."
The men of the Dursley house seemed to grow even more agitated at the clear implications, while Petunia for her part looked like she wanted to cry. "Isn't there any department we can call on for that? Don't you bloody witches have a parliament?"
Dracaena's gaze managed to grow even colder at the woman's shrieking wail. "I couldn't say for sure. My family has not worked for the government in some time. You can always appeal to the muggle departments, see if they have any contact with their magical counterparts," She turned around and made a slow, measured walk towards the hallway, "I would make a long-term plan for your whole bloodline's sake if I were in your shoes. The Dark Lord and his servants are all practiced wizards, and no doubt make excellent use of the longevity charm."
It was Vernon's turn to yell out in disbelief. "Longevity charm?!"
From Harry's spot at the doorway, he managed to catch Dracaena's self-satisfied smile at his Uncle's outburst, looking for all the world like a trapper hearing a game animal spring his snare, or Ron knowing a chess gambit paid off. She managed to smooth it out into her ordinary imperious look when she finally whirled back around to the Dursleys.
"Oh, yes, when a wizard reaches adulthood, special privileges become available to him, one of those being the longevity charm," She placed a hand on her breast, "I might not seem it, but I turn one hundred and forty years of age in the winter. Dumbledore, as wizened as he might seem, was already of advanced middle age when the witch hunts tore through the continent. I, perhaps, don't need to mention how those Inquisitors who gave the chief warlock grief during that time all had descendants cursed with ill fortune, many dying without an heir, hm?"
The Dursleys looked well and truly horrified at the implications of what Dracaena was feeding them, parent and child all shrinking into themselves and holding each others hands for paltry comfort.
"But I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," She turned back around and made measured strides for the front door, "The Dark Lord has an unimpressive track record so far. He was beaten once, I'm sure he and his goons will be beaten a second time," She halted and gave a predatory smirk at the dumbfounded muggles, shocked and shaking in their own house, "I'm sure your nephew will make through this ordeal safe and sound. He'll even get to visit your great-great-great-grandchildren and tell them all stories of what their ancestors were like in the flesh."
Not bothering to see what effect her words had on the family, she turned and opened the door with a flick of her wand. "Offer me your arm." she whispered to Harry, who dumbfoundedly obeyed. She wrapped her arms around his in a proper ladylike manner, and led him out the door and into the misty night, the door shutting itself behind the wizards.
Harry's trunk seemed to possess a mind of its own, gliding over to the boot of the limousine as it opened itself and allowed the luggage to neatly place itself in the corner, before the boot closed itself again of its own accord. The back limo door, likewise, opened itself on its own and allowed the two students to place themselves in the rather luxurious back seats, all velvet cushioning arranged in a square. Harry followed Dracaena in, still dumbfounded at what just occurred, and gently placed Hedwig's cage in the center floor in such a way that it wouldn't tip during the drive.
Dracaena called out to the front as the door closed itself behind her, "The Burrow, double time."
The limousine carried along the road for a few houses before smoothly lifting itself off into the sky, with the passengers not feeling any kind of liftoff or drag.
Harry became aware after some time that Dracaena was still clutching onto his arm in a ladylike fashion, but felt too flabbergasted to ask her to release him. "That...What you said about longevity charms...was any of that true?"
Dracaena gave a chuckle that she hid with her left hand, which seemed to remind her that there was no need to keep holding on to Harry, and so quickly withdrew her arms into her lap, "H-hardly. If such a charm existed, there would be far fewer Dark Wizards searching for immortality."
"Ah, of course," Harry said, embarrassed. He turned to look out at the inky black clouds passing the two of them by.
"...Thank you. For what you did back there."
He caught a red dusting of cheeks on Dracaena's face as she sniffed and pointedly turned to look out the opposite set of windows, "Don't count on it again, Potter."
The ride to The Burrow continued in silence, the two of them not looking at each other's face, but having their arms pressed together for companionship. The only noise from the back was the occasional happy hoot from Hedwig's cage.