Dear Snuffles,
Hello! How are you? I hope you're doing okay, and your mother has kept her mouth shut.
It's been an eventful first week here - we have a new Care of Magical Creatures teacher - she's good but we miss Hagrid. And we have a new Defence teacher too - a woman called Umbridge. You probably know, but she's the Hogwarts High Inquisitor as well. She's been inspecting our lessons and stuff - Draco's had a run in with her, but it's okay now, it's all sorted. I, on the other hand, have kept myself firmly out of trouble so far. Let's see if it lasts!
Write soon,
Love Harry
P.S say hi to Mooney for me. Missing him too.'
Harry read, and reread the letter at least a dozen times, for two reasons. One, to ensure he'd given no information away that might in some way reveal where Sirius was, or draw attention to any of the Order's business unnecessarily - he'd lingered for a long time on mentioning Hagrid, but erred on the side of: why would he hide the fact that Hagrid wasn't there? Umbridge wasn't blind, she could see he wasn't there! And two, to ensure he'd given Sirius no excuse to be reckless and try to speak to them through the fireplace. They'd been lucky last time, that Umbridge hadn't actually managed to grab hold of him, and Harry would lose his actual shit if he pulled a stunt like that again. He read it one last time and added one small detail (two x's at the end of 'love Harry'), before swinging himself out of bed, satisfied.
The rest of the tower slumbered on, oblivious to Harry as he stumbled about getting himself dressed, pulling off his pyjamas and pulling on jeans, socks and shoes. He paused to scribble 'Snuffles' on the front of the letter, and seal it closed, before letting himself out of the dorm room, and heading downstairs. In the common room, Harry stumbled across someone he wasn't at all expecting to see at this early hour. Hermione, a heavy looking bag slung over her shoulder, was making her own way towards the portrait hole.
"Hermione?" she froze, and looked immediately guilty, "What are you doing up this early?"
She scrambled to come up with an answer, looking constantly between Harry and the exit, "Oh uh, just making the most of my time, you know? Going to the library to fit some studying in before breakfast!" her attempt at a cheerful smile missed the mark, and ended up looking more stressed and panicked than anything.
"Okay," Harry said slowly, "Then why do you look so shifty?"
"Shifty? I, ah, don't know what you mean," she protested weakly, "You just took me by surprise! What are you doing up this early, anyway?" she deflected.
"Going to the owlery," he waved his letter demonstratively in his hand, "and don't avoid the question - Hermione, what's wrong?"
Her face collapsed in defeat, and she stomped her way over to the sofa, and threw herself down with an 'umph'. Bewildered, Harry followed her, and sat down more gently.
"You'll laugh at me," she accused, arms crossed over her chest, "Or - or you'll think I'm the most awful friend," she said despondently, all the fight seeming to leave her.
Harry chuckled and shuffled closer, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a loose hug, "I won't laugh, I promise! Tell me what's wrong,"
Almost reluctantly, Hermione leant in closer, and started to speak:
"It's just… it's just that you're doing so well in class - you're doing amazingly well, really! And I'm so happy for you, I really am, I promise. It's just I'm used to being the best in the class, and it feels a bit like you've taken my thing - even though you haven't at all, and you've not done anything wrong, and I feel terrible for feeling like this. But it's not just that - it's Draco as well!" she cried mournfully, "In Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, it's like he already knows all of the material! He and Professor Vector sometimes talk about it more like - like they're colleagues rather than student and Professor! And it's not like he's being snooty about it or anything," she almost sounded disappointed about this fact, "he's actually being really helpful to the rest of the class. But it almost makes it worse, that I can't at least be sat there thinking 'oh, that Malfoy, being a stuck up git as always', and… and I just feel bad," she concluded, her lips downturned, "I feel bad that you're both doing better than me in class, and I feel bad about the fact that I feel bad about it, too,"
Harry had worried something like this might happen, "It's okay to feel this way, you know?" he said softly, and Hermione looked at him in surprise at his easy acceptance, "Do you think I didn't feel a bit jealous that Ron was made prefect instead of me? Cause' I did. You're allowed to feel how you feel about things Mione', you don't need to beat yourself up about it," he squeezed his arm around her, "And you don't need to work yourself to the bone trying to beat us - cause' the simple fact of the matter is, at our core, me and Draco are plenty stupid in the many other ways you're really clever,"
"Like what?" she said curiously.
"Common sense," he suggested immediately, "Logic puzzles, having an actual imagination, coming up with ideas - you seem to forget that you were the master mind behind every brilliant or crazy thing we've ever done Hermione! Things I can't actually say in public, because I'm pretty sure some of them are illegal," she smiled reluctantly, "And you have an emotional intelligence I don't think I'll ever have - at this point I'm committed to blundering around in my personal relationships, stepping on toes, for the rest of my life, and just having a really good apology on hand,"
"I don't know - you're demonstrating some pretty good emotional intelligence right now," she pointed out, leaning into him, winding an arm around his back and pulling him closer. For a moment, Harry wondered if this is what it would have been like with Lily when she was older, and in need of a pep talk from her embarrassing father. Harry held his breath against the sudden rush of tears and tipped his head back and blinked rapidly to stop them escaping. Confident it was safe, he released his breath, and leant back so he could see Hermione's face.
"You feel better?" she nodded, flashing a smile at him and wiping at the corner of her eye, "Are you about to sneak off to the library to secretly cram in extra studying hours?"
She hesitated, before clearly deciding, "No," she said firmly, "I'm going to go to the library to cram in extra studying hours - but not secretly, just normally,"
Harry rolled his eyes a little, "Alright Little Miss Bookworm - we'd better make a move then. Draco will be waiting for me,"
They parted ways at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, as Hermione headed off to the library, a new bounce in her step, and Harry went to the Great Hall where he hoped Draco was still waiting for him.
Draco must have grown impatient, because Harry found him pacing outside of the hall, something shiny held in between his hands. He looked up at the sound of Harry's approaching footsteps, and he gave a little wave.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Harry called, picking up the pace a little, "Hermione was having a small breakdown," he admitted when he was closer.
Draco's brow furrowed in concern, and he turned to guide them out of the castle, a touch to Harry's lower back encouraging him to follow, "A breakdown? Over what?"
"Us doing so much better than her in class," he said shrewdly, "I think it was a bit of an identity crisis more than anything - she's very used to being the 'brightest witch of her age'," Draco pushed open the enormous door that lead to the grounds of the castle, and held it to allow Harry to pass through, "Thank you - by the sounds of it, it was more that she was feeling guilty at being upset by our success than anything. I gave her a little pep-talk - told her there was nothing wrong with having feelings, and that we're both actually secretly stupid,"
"Some of us less secretly than others," Draco said slyly, dodging the elbow that Harry immediately tried to ram into his ribs - Draco chuckled, "Nearly. I'm glad she's feeling better - I want to kick her arse, but I didn't want to cause an existential crisis! Oh," he pressed something into Harry's hands - the shiny thing he'd seen him holding, "This is for you - I wanted to get a move on, but didn't want you missing breakfast," wrapped in tin foil, Harry found a bacon sandwich with an excessive amount of red sauce, just the way he liked it.
"Oh, thanks!" he bit into it eagerly, "Since when do you use foil anyway? Isn't it a bit muggle for you?"
Draco shrugged, "Better for transportation than a preservation charm," he explained.
Harry shoved the sandwich into his mouth, "Are we on a time limit then?" he said, though the words were muffled around bread and bacon.
"Themis has sent her owl for me to write to her - she's very suspicious of the lines of communication coming in and out of Hogwarts, and that owl is something else," he said it with reluctant admiration, "It's fucking dangerous is what it is,"
Harry hummed his agreement around more bread, "What's its name?" was what he tried to say, but it sounded more like 'was'is'nam' - Draco understood however, and scoffed.
"What's its name? Potter, if I told you I was chased by a rabid dog, would you be asking me about its name? No - you'd be checking I still had all my fingers and toes. No, Potter," Draco shook his head, "I don't need to know the owl's name - I just need to deal with it with the appropriate level of respect to avoid getting blood on my letters,"
Harry shrugged, and turned to his sandwich, before he realised what he'd forgotten, and he turned an accusing finger on Draco, "Hey! You didn't tell me you got kicked off the Quidditch team!"
"Oh - I don't really care," Draco admitted with a shrug, "I mean, like, at all - fifteen-year-old me really would've I guess," Harry had expected Draco to have at least some simmering rage at the unfairness of it all, and so his blasé response immediately took the wind right out of his sails, "Were you expecting me to be upset?" Draco sounded confused, before realisation dawned, "Ooh, because youwould have been, right?"
Harry nodded mulishly, "I'm very competitive," Harry said reluctantly, shoving the last of his sandwich into his mouth as an excuse to not have to say more.
"You're enjoying being fifteen again too much," Draco teased, knocking their shoulders together as they climbed the steps up to the owlery.
"Silver linings," Harry said unapologetically, "I always loved Quidditch - never got to play it as an adult,"
"Would you play professionally? You could you know - you were annoyingly goo-ARGH!" Draco dived to one side to dodge the eagle owl that had suddenly dive bombed his head, "For fucks sake!!" Draco glared at the owl that had landed on a perch just above them, furious eyes staring back at them, "It got my hair!" Harry looked closer at the owl, and saw platinum blonde strands wrapped around its talons, "Did you see that?!"
"I did," Harry confirmed, looking for his own snowy white owl in the rafters above them.
"It's a wild beast, I'm telling you," Draco, grumbled, digging through his bag and producing another small packet of foil that he unfolded to reveal bacon, "Look! Bacon! Now get your feathery arse down here," it gave a reproachful screech, "Please?" Draco added reluctantly, and the owl descended to the window ledge, so it was within Draco's reach.
"I think Hedwig must be up higher - I'm gonna' go look for her," Harry jogged up the spiral steps that led to the higher levels, eyes flickering around and waiting for Hedwig's white plumage to jump out at him. He found her asleep halfway up the tower.
"Hedwig?" he nudged her gently, and her eyes blinked open sleepily at him, "Sorry - can you take a letter for me?" she ruffled her feathers, but gave a soft hoot that he took to mean 'yes', "This says Snuffles - but it's actually for Sirius, okay?" she hooted again, and stuck her leg out obediently to let him tie the letter to her, and then hopped onto his shoulder to be carried to the window, "Be careful, okay?" she nibbled his ear affectionately, and then became suddenly heavier as she leapt from his shoulder through the window and soared away.
He took a moment to watch her go, struck not for the first time, at how effortless she made it look, but he was distracted by the sound of voices below him - Draco and someone else. He made his way back down the stairs, curious as to who had joined them so early in the morning.
"I nearly forgot, it's my mum's birthday," ah, Cho - well, at least he already had Draco here to hide behind, "I heard what you said to Umbridge by the way - that woman is just awful! Did she really try and make you use a blood-quill?"
"Yeah, she's definitely a bit of a psycho," Harry frowned, and increased his speed down the steps - Draco sounded unnecessarily anxious for someone who was just having a friendly early morning chat, "Oh sweet Circe, bird, please! Just leave!" Harry slowed again, grinning - he could probably guess what was happening.
"Is that your owl?" Cho asked sounding concerned.
"No," Draco said darkly, "I'd have stuffed and mounted it by now if it was. It belongs to my solicitor," as he expected, Harry found Draco trying to waft the owl out of the window, but it was standing its ground and making intense eye contact with him, "Please! Go! Pl- oh, thank you Merlin!" having apparently grown bored with Draco's begging, the owl finally launched itself through the window and was gone.
"Oh, hello Harry!" Cho said brightly, spotting him and offering a small wave, her cheeks flushing.
"Morning," Harry replied, reluctantly descending the last few steps and stepping forwards until he was level with Draco, "Good first week?"
"Not too bad, other than Defence of course - that class is such a joke now!"
Harry nodded his agreement and shifted awkwardly, "Yeah - not sure how we're going to pass our OWL's," he said weakly, nudging Draco and giving him a pointed look out of the corner of his eye.
"Anyway Chang, we should let you get on with sending your post," Draco said, getting the message immediately and steering Harry past her and towards the exit, "See you around - enjoy your weekend!"
Their escape was interrupted however, by a panting and gasping Filch running up the many steps that led to the tower. He pointed an accusatory finger at them, but it took him a moment to gather his breath enough to say:
"You!"
"Me," Harry agreed, watching curiously as the caretaker struggled with the last few steps, his finger raised determinedly.
"I am here to confiscate your mail!" Filch declared triumphantly.
"Why?" Draco said, looking thoroughly confused, "Do you normally take student's post?"
"I do when they're putting in a massive order of dung bombs!"
Draco looked incredulously between Harry and Filch, "Wereyou putting in an order for dung bombs?!"
"Well obviously not, Draco," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "Umbridge just wants an excuse to read my letters,"
"Is that true?" Cho cried, outraged, glaring at Filch with disgust, "Did Umbridge put you up to this?"
"I never reveal my sources," Filch said unconvincingly, looking visibly shifty, "Now! Give me your mail boy!"
"Can't," Harry simply, "S'gone already," he pointed at the disappearing spec on the horizon that he thought might have been Hedwig and Filch looked wildly between the spec and Harry.
"I don't believe you!" he declared abruptly, "Empty out your pockets!"
Harry rolled his eyes, and as he hadn't bothered with a cloak that morning, it was easy for him to remove his wand, and pull his trouser pockets inside out, "Satisfied?"
Filch trembled with rage, his raised finger wagging erratically, "If there are any dungbombs set off in the castle, you and I will be having words boy," he threatened, before turning and cautiously making his way back down the steps.
"I can't believe that - why on earth does she want your letters?" said Cho, shaking her head and watching the caretaker's precarious descent.
"Find something to discredit me further with probably," Harry said mildly, not truly bothered, "Am I the only one who thinks it's bizarre at how obsessed our government is with me?" he added, putting his pockets to rights, "I'm a literal child,"
Cho nodded vigorously, "It's outrageous - the whole school should know about this Harry. They should know the post is being watched,"
"Tell whoever you like Cho - probably come better from someone who's not me," he said with a shrug, "See you around, anyway. You coming Draco?" Draco nodded, apparently lost for words, and they began their own decent.
They were halfway down the steps when Draco spoke again, "Did that happen last time?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Yeah - I'd forgotten to be honest. Of every slightly fucked up thing that's ever happened to me, this one didn't make the cut, you know,"
Draco scowled, "Maybe you should just use a school owl next time - your owl stands out too much,"
"The thought had occurred to me - too late now though, I guess. What were your plans for the rest of the day anyway?" he asked as they approached the castle once more.
"Homework probably," Draco said reluctantly, "Not something I've missed. I was thinking about maybe going to the room? I've been thinking about going all week to be honest - but it felt wrong to go without you,"
Harry could understand how he felt - looking around the room, in particular the study, when Draco hadn't been there, had felt like a strange invasion of privacy.
"Sounds good - least we won't have to worry about Madam Pince biting our heads off. She's nearly as bad as the librarian in Monsters Inc,"
"What the hell is 'Monsters Ink'? Is this another niche muggle reference, Potter?" Draco said darkly, "What have I said about niche muggle references?"
"Not to insult you - but I don't think anyone would describe Disney as 'niche' Draco," Harry chuckled.
Harry waited patiently while Draco paced back and forth in front of Barnabas the Barney, his eyes shut, and his brow furrowed in concentration. Harry's eyes followed his progress back and forth, but he was doing more than simply watching - he was looking. Looking, and wondering what was going through his head at that moment. What was it that Draco asked the Room for when he brought their room into existence - what was it he thought of that prompted that gramophone in the corner of his study to play his wife's music? Was it because he wanted to be reminded of her? Because he missed her? Because he was clinging on and not ready to let go? He supposed he could have asked the same questions of himself - every time they'd entered the room, Hector had been sat on the dining room table waiting for him.
"Harry?" he jumped, and realised from the frown of concern on Draco's face, that that wasn't the first time he'd called his name, "You okay?"
"Yeah," Harry answered quickly, swinging his bag over his shoulder and walking over to Draco and the newly materialised door, "yeah, sorry, was in a world of my own," Draco still looked mildly worried as he held the door open for him, and followed him inside.
A familiar tune greeted them, but he noticed with interest that it seemed a little grainier than last time. A change to the room that was more obvious however, was that Crocker's office had almost entirely been erased. The only features that remained was the light fixture dangling from the centre of the ceiling, the hardwood floor, and the silver filing cabinet in the corner of the room - the walls were now bare stone, and no other furniture remained.
"I wonder why this room is vanishing," he mused out loud, making his way through to the kitchen, and pausing to stroke the edge of Hector's wing. He picked him up and set him on the kitchen counter, so that the entire dining table was available for him and Draco to work on. He emptied his bag of its contents and stacked them neatly on the table.
"Maybe the room knows it's not useful to us anymore," Draco suggested with a shrug, "I don't know about you, but it's not going into work that I miss," he said with a shrewd smile, "It's my home comforts," he inclined his head to the study behind him.
"Your wife's music?" Harry added cautiously, hoping he wasn't overstepping.
Draco froze, swallowed, and took a deep breath, "Yeah," he answered hoarsely, finally moving again, "Yeah, it's things like that," he sat down, "She taught Scorpius how to play piano as well," slowly, Harry joined him at the table, "He was getting really good - used to hold mini-concerts for Mother when she came to visit," he flashed Harry a weak smile, "It was cute. Mother used to bring these tiny little opera binoculars with her and sit at the complete opposite end of the room, and she'd conjure a rose to throw, and shout encore when he finished,"
Harry pretended not to see when he wiped a small tear away.
"That's very cute," Harry agreed with a chuckle, "When James was seven, Ginny was determined that he was going to learn a musical instrument, and Merlin know's why, but she picked the violin of all things," Draco's laugh was noticeably wet, "I know right - anyway, it lasted about six weeks, which is five weeks longer than I thought it would, let me tell you - so six weeks go by, and I come home from work, and this violin is nowhere to be found, and I'd been coming home day after day to this awful racket, so I noticed the second it was gone. So, I asked Kreacher what had happened to it, and he said," Harry changed his voice to his best imitation of the elderly elf's strange croak, "'Mistress Ginny is telling Kreacher that the violin is to be re-homed'. Except the blasted elf had just re-homed it to the end of the bloody garden, so then we had garden gnomes trying their hand at it as well! At all hours of the bloody day," Draco's laugh was distinctly less wet now, his eyes crinkled in mirth, "You've never known torture until you've heard a gnome trying to play 'Ode to Joy' on a child's violin at one in the morning, Merlin!" Harry smiled, watching Draco shake with laughter, "Though maybe that's unfair, one of the fatter gnomes was definitely better than James at least,"
Draco wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, "How long did that go on for?"
"About two weeks," Harry grinned, "Until a day where I was at work, and Molly was able to take all three kids for long enough for Ginny to de-gnome the entire garden. I don't know precisely what she did, but she described it as not being 'child-friendly'. None of the little bastards came back, and so long as I didn't have to hear 'Mary had a little lamb' in the middle of the night anymore, I was okay with that,"
"When I was a child, I tried to keep a gnome as a pet," Draco said with the kind of fond smile that came from remembering the follies of one's childhood, "Father was horrified,"
"Oh, I bet he was - what did Narcissa think?"
Draco paused and frowned, "Now that I think back, she was strangely on board with the whole thing. She even had tiny little costumes made for it - a little chain mail jacket made out of wool, and a princess dress as well," he smiled fondly, "I think, perhaps Father had done something to upset her, and this was her way of annoying him,"
"Sounds like her," Harry said with a grin, "I hope your gnome didn't meet the same end as the ones at the end of my garden,"
"Father bought a crup," Draco said wistfully, "And I think he realised his number was up - disappeared a few days later,"
"And you're sure the crup didn't eat him?"
"Not unless the crup also ate his entire wardrobe," Draco said with a shrewd smile.
"You'd have liked Ron and Hermione's kids - they were always trying to steal gnomes from The Burrow and take them home with them," he remembered fondly.
"Can't imagine Mrs Granger-Weasley being on board with that,"
"Oh, Merlin no, but she was certainly more humane with them than Ginny was. She definitely wouldn't have been getting them little knitted outfits - little nooses as a threat maybe," he chuckled, "What about you anyway? Can you play any instruments?" he asked curiously, and Draco hummed and nodded, "Piano too?"
"Not as well as Astoria," Draco clarified, "and the flute. It's pretty standard amongst old pureblood families to have their children learn certain extra-curricular's - musical instruments and ballroom dancing is the standard,"
"You can dance?" Harry asked, leaning forward with interest, and Draco matched his posture.
"Very well - I loved dancing at big parties, but it wasn't Astoria's thing, so I always ended up with Mother, Pansy, or Daphne,"
"Astoria's sister?"
"Hmm, she married a German wizard with two left feet, and after the time he broke her foot, she refused to dance with him anymore," Draco said with a small grin, "How about you?"
"Dancing?" Harry said incredulously, "I don't quite have two left feet, but I'm not amazing. If we ever danced, Ginny basically ended up leading,"
"She's very headstrong, I imagine she led in most things,"
"Yeah," Harry said with a fond smile, "But I was more than happy with that - she had lots of goals and things she wanted to do, and I was happy to go with the flow. When we had James, I'd just turned down the promotion to Head Auror, and I could tell she was quietly desperate to get back to Quidditch, so I stayed at home with the kids until Lily was about two and a half, and that's when I started at the Department of Mysteries,"
"Were you glad to be back working again?" Draco had finally started emptying his bag and laying his things on the table.
"Ah, I enjoyed my work, but I'd have much rather stayed home with the kids - I definitely missed it,"
"Why did you bother going back then? Surely Ginny earned enough in professional Quidditch," Draco said with a scoff, "I read about the galleons exchanging hands in Oliver Wood's divorce settlement,"
"Pressure I guess," Harry said with a shrug, "Mostly from Hermione actually, more than anyone else. I think she worried I'd end up sad and alone at home when the kids all went to Hogwarts," Harry pulled his potions book towards him, a roll of parchment, and a quill. He glanced up at Draco and caught the small frown on his face.
"Would you have? Ended up feeling sad and alone at home?"
Now it was Harry's turn to scoff, "Are you kidding? I loved being a househusband. I'd have found something to do, I'm sure. And I'd have missed the kids either way,"
"I was dreading Scorpius going to Hogwarts," Draco admitted, his fingers lightly holding a roll of parchment, "If he hadn't been so excited about it, I'd have considered hiring a tutor or something instead. Or moving to Massachusetts maybe - children can attend Ilvermorny as day students as well as boarding students," he paused for a moment, absently day-dreaming about the life they could have had, "Though I think Scorpius would have hated that more. He was desperate to go to Hogwarts,"
"Hogwarts was my home until I was seventeen," Harry said quietly, "I can understand feeling attached to the place,"
"This time," Draco said firmly, dipping his quill into his ink pot, "You'll have another home as well - with Sirius, even if he is a bit of an idiot, after we've killed Voldemort, and he's been exonerated. Right?"
"Right," Harry agreed, with a confidence he didn't feel.
They finally descended into silence but for the music, and the light scratching of their quills. Harry couldn't help but occasionally look up at the other as they worked, and more than once he caught Draco looking back, and they'd exchange small knowing smiles before looking away.
With fewer subjects, and more free periods, Harry finished his homework first. He'd tried to find something else to occupy his time with at the table and settled on silently trying to summon Draco's work towards himself. He'd nearly succeeded until an unimpressed Draco had snatched his work back and snapped at Harry to fuck off and find something better to do with his time. And so instead, he'd stood up from the table, and taken the opportunity to have a nosey around at the details the room had recreated, which quickly ended with him being exiled to Draco's study after the man had grown fed up with him opening and closing drawers and cupboards.
That was how he ended up back in front of the gramophone, sat in Draco's enormous leather chair, his feet on the desk as he sifted through the records and read their names, seeing if he recognised any of them. The vast majority were a mystery, with names like 'Cannon Major in D, No. 1' or something similar, but a few he recognised, like Clair de Lune and the Moonlight Sonata. Most were performed by Astoria, but he paused when he saw 'Scorpius Malfoy' on one. None bore Draco's name.
"Right, I'm done," Harry looked up at the other in the doorway, and Draco frowned in disapproval upon seeing how he was sat, "I suppose I can't actually be annoyed with you, because that isn't actually mahogany, but could you put your feet down anyway please,"
Harry did as he was asked without complaint, too busy wondering about the records in his hands, "Are these replicas of actual recordings that Astoria made?" he asked curiously.
"No - I think the room has just taken my memories of it, which is kind of terrifying I think in some ways. How much power does this room actually have?" he mused, "I think that's why the quality is getting worse - have you noticed? The graininess of the music? I think it might be because the memory is fading," he said, sounding resigned.
"Or maybe it's because the version you remember is now grainy, because you remember it from the room? So, every time the Room copies it, it's that little bit worse. Like if you try to use a photocopier on a photocopy, eventually they look terrible,"
"What the hell is a photocopier?" Draco said blankly, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"Never mind, it doesn't matter, you'll just have to believe that my analogy makes sense," Draco only shrugged, rolling his sleeve back to check his watch, "Can we go for lunch now? I'm starving!" Harry patted his stomach demonstratively, looking down at it mournfully. He was startled into looking up however, at Draco's sudden outbreak of swearing.
"Oh, buggering fuck," Draco shook his sleeve back down his arm in frustration, "We're too late, we worked through it, for fucks sake!" Harry was surprised by the look of distress on Draco's face, "I'm sorry Harry, I didn't realise the time - dinner won't be served for another two and a half hours now," he said, his voice tight and anxious.
"It's okay," Harry said with a shrug, "I'll live, I'm sure - why are you getting upset?" a muscle in Draco's neck was visibly twitching as he clenched his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his lips pressed together until they were barely visible, they had become so thin, "Draco?"
Draco released the breath he'd been holding in one go, and reluctantly answered, "I don't like you missing meals," he admitted, eyes darting about, embarrassed, "I know you're an adult, and you don't need me to babysit you," he said very quickly, "but it doesn't matter, because I worry anyway. You've only just put the weight back on, that you lost," his eyes lingered on Harry's thin wrists and narrow waist, "I'm sorry, this is a me problem, and not something you should have to think about."
Harry sat for a moment and considered what he had said. Draco was right - he'd been a slim teenager and eventually a lithe adult, but for the first few weeks after the school holidays he had always been particularly skinny. He glanced at his own wrists and tried to superimpose the memory of his thirty-five-year-old wrist on top of what was in front of him, and they were noticeably smaller - not drastically so, but enough. He sighed, slapped his lap, and stood abruptly.
"Well, only one thing for it, I suppose," Harry said brightly, "We'll go to the kitchens and get ourselves a late lunch,"
"The kitchens?" Draco said in confusion, "You know where the kitchens are? Are we even allowed down there?" Draco followed him out of the study reluctantly, watching as Harry slung his bag over his shoulder.
"I don't know if we're strictly speaking allowed, but I doubt we'll get into trouble for it - come on, get your stuff," still visibly reluctant, Draco did as he was asked, following him out of the room.
"I can't get into trouble again this term, Harry," Draco said anxiously, "Snape will have my head!"
Harry remembered what Pansy had said to him fondly, "You worry too much. Honestly, it'll be fine!"
"This is the entrance to the kitchens?" Draco said warily, eyeing the portrait of the large fruit bowl in front of them suspiciously, "How did you even find it?"
"Fred and George, obviously," Harry said, grinning, "but it's also on the Marauder's Map so I'd have found it that way as well, if I'd looked," now Draco looking confused.
"What's the Marauder's Map?"
Harry gaped at him, "Have I never shown you the map?" Draco shook his head slowly, "Oh Merlin! It's amazing! It's a map of the entirety of Hogwarts, including all of its secret tunnels and rooms - except for the Room of Requirement, and the chamber of secrets though. More importantly, it shows you where everyone is in the castle as well," Harry said, grinning eagerly.
"How did you even get a map like that? You know what, suddenly, all of the trouble making you got away with makes a lot more sense," Draco said contemplatively, "I suppose you could see if any teachers were coming, right?"
"Yeah, exactly - dead handy. It was actually made by my dad and his friends, if you can believe it,"
"What? Black and Lupin?" Draco said incredulously.
"Yeah - and then it was confiscated, and then Fred and George stole it out of Filch's office, and then they gave it to me. Remind me at some point, I'll have to show it to you, it's dead useful,"
"Alright, I will - but lunch first," Draco said firmly, "Now, how do we get in?" he eyed the portrait suspiciously as if he expected something to leap out at him.
Harry pointed at the green pear in the fruit bowl, "You need to tickle the pear,"
Draco rolled his eyes in disbelief, "This school, I swear - it always has the strangest methods to hide its secrets," reluctantly, no doubt concerned that Harry was having him on, Draco stretched his arm out to tickle his fingers against the canvas. Almost immediately, the pear began to shudder and giggle under his ministrations, and after a moment, transformed into an oversized door handle. Draco glanced over his shoulder at Harry in a question, and Harry nodded.
"Just remember to be polite," Harry said, nudging him forward. Draco's eyes flashed in understanding, and he turned the doorknob, and stepped over the portrait's threshold. Harry following him close behind.
They were almost immediately mobbed by a hoard of curious and excited house-elves, all of them wearing tea towels with the Hogwarts crest as little togas, and with the female elves also wearing little skirts.
"Hello little Masters," said the nearest elf in a high squeaky voice, her eyes bright and watery as they flicked between Draco and Harry, and she offered them a small curtsy before carrying on, "How can Tippy help you today?"
"Good afternoon Tippy," Harry said politely "My name's Harry, and this is Draco. Unfortunately we missed lunch today - we were wondering if there was any chance of us getting something to eat?" Tippy opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by another familiar voice.
"Harry? Harry Potter?" the sea of elves parted, revealing Dobby, and for a moment Harry could hardly breath. How could he have forgotten?
"Ah, uh, yes," Harry stuttered, his heart racing, "Hello Dobby, it's me, how are you?"
The elf rushed forwards, his hands rubbing together in excitement, and the lump in Harry's throat threatened to choke him, "Oh, Harry Potter! It is so wonderful to see you - Dobby was hoping he would see you this school year," Dobby did a happy little dance in front of him, apparently unable to contain his enthusiasm within his body. Harry tried desperately to mask his unsteady breathing, but he could tell by the unintentional jerks of his shoulders that he wasn't succeeding. He looked urgently to Draco for help and found the other concentrating all his attention on the elf in front of them. Draco ended up saving him unintentionally.
"Good afternoon Dobby," Draco said calmly and kindly, and for the first time since noticing Harry's arrival, Dobby's attention was on the wizard who had arrived with him. Dobby let out a squeak of surprise, jumping back half a foot at the same time. Draco visibly winced.
"A-a-ah ah, Master Draco," Dobby stuttered nervously, his enormous eyes flicking nervously about the kitchen, and landing anywhere other than Draco, "Dobby did not expect to see you," the excited rubbing of Dobby's hands turned into an anxious flexing of his fingers.
"I know, I'm sorry to surprise you," Draco continued pleasantly, "Dobby - I was wondering if you might allow me to apologise to you,"
Dobby froze, his eyes slowly turning from the enormous cooking pot he'd been focussing on and landing back on Draco, "Apologise?" he said faintly, and Draco nodded encouragingly; Dobby visibly gulped and continued, "Apologise for… for what, Master Draco?"
"For being an all-round terrible Master," Draco said frankly, "My family were abusive and cruel to you, and I include myself in that. Father was awful, and he taught me to do the same, and it was wrong. You deserved to be treated well and thanked for the service you provided to us. I know it's too late to take any of it back, but I hope you believe me when I offer my sincerest apologies to you. I hope there is a way for me to make amends," Draco said all of this sincerely, and eloquently, as if it was a speech he had held in his heart for many years, that he was only just getting the opportunity to use.
The other elves looked curiously from Dobby to Draco, and at least a hundred pairs of enormous eyes watched and waited patiently for Dobby's response. Dobby swallowed, before straightening, looking first to Harry, then to Draco, his gaze contemplative. Finally, he opened his mouth and said slowly, "There is nothing to forgive sir - you were a child, doing only as you had been taught. But, if it will settle sir's conscience, Dobby forgives Draco Malfoy,"
Harry was the only person who heard Draco's little sigh of relief, "Thank you Dobby, that is most gracious of you,"
Dobby gave a wobbly nod, "Did Dobby hear that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had missed their lunch?" Dobby continued hesitantly, and Harry finally found his voice again.
"Y-yes Dobby - if there's anything we could eat we would be very grateful,"
Dobby beckoned to them, and they followed him through the crowd of elves that were now slowly losing interest and wandering back to the tasks they'd been distracted from, "This way sirs - this way," Dobby gestured to the nearest of the enormous tables in the room, "Have a seat Harry Potter, Dobby will fetch you some sandwiches and cake!" and for the moment, Dobby disappeared amongst the other elves as he went to fetch their food.
Harry seated himself heavily on the bench, and Draco sat opposite him, "Sorry," he croaked, still feeling dazed, and gazing in the direction that Dobby had gone, "Sorry, I totally forgot he was down here," he swallowed dryly, "I'd have warned you otherwise,"
"It's okay - if anything, I'm glad," Draco admitted, "I'd wanted to apologise to him for years after he left - but for obvious reasons, that wasn't possible," Draco said grimly, "Are you okay?"
Harry nodded distractedly, "Yeah, yeah, sorry - I've gotten better at seeing them," Harry said quietly, "The dead, I mean. But, usually I've had a moment to prepare myself. He took me totally by surprise, sorry," seeing Dobby on his way back, two silver trays supported on the palm of each of his hands, Harry sat up straighter. One carried a pot of tea, a dish with sugar cubes, a small pitcher of milk, and two teacups, while the other the full of an array of sandwiches, cakes and biscuits.
"Here you are Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said brightly, apparently recovered from their previous interaction, "Dobby bought treacle tart for you, sir. And strawberry cheesecake, for you, sir," Dobby said meaningfully to Draco, with a hesitant smile.
"Thank you, Dobby," Draco said earnestly, "Strawberry cheesecake always has been my favourite,"
Dobby's smile became relieved and pleased, and he gave a little skip, "Dobby will leave you to enjoy your lunch - just call Dobby's name if you need anything more!"
By the time they left the kitchen, Harry could hardly move he was so full, letting out small involuntary noises as they climbed the stairs back into the rest of the castle.
"Oh Merlin," he groaned, supporting his hands on his lower back and waddling a little as he walked, "That was so much cake!"
Draco snorted at him, "Sweet Circe - you're walking like Astoria did two weeks before she gave birth,"
Harry scowled, "Not all of us have as much space it to put it away in," he grumbled, eyeing their small height difference jealously, "I don't know how I'm meant to go to Quidditch practice before dinner," he continued complaining, "I'm not sure my broom will be able to take off!"
"I'm sure you'll manage," Draco said with a patronising pat on the top of his head, "If Crabbe and Goyle can persuade a broom to take off, you should be just fine,"
"Did you want to come by the way?" Harry asked absently, wincing at the cramp that threatened in his lower abdomen, "We could do with someone to chuck quaffles as Ron's head," he admitted, "He's got potential, but he's no Wood just yet,"
"You know what - yeah, why not!" Draco sounded surprised by his own answer, "I've got nothing else to do, and throwing things at Weasley is always fun," Harry eyed him warily.
"Come on Weasley!! That one was easy!!" Draco yelled, perched on his broom, thirty feet from Ron with a quaffle tucked under his arm, "Do you need me to throw it harder?"
Harry watched from his own broom, still feeling uncomfortably full and only making a rudimentary attempt to hunt for the snitch that Angelina had released onto the pitch. He'd wait until practice was nearly over, and then start actively chasing it down - if he could avoid having to find it more than once, he would class this training session as a success. He looked down and to his left when he noticed Angelina flying in his direction.
"Is this what you call looking for the snitch?" she snapped, "I've barely seen you move!"
"If I move, I'm probably going to be sick Angelina," he admitted, "I'll get it before we're done, don't worry," she scowled, "Look, look," he pointed towards the opposite end of the pitch, "There, on the leftmost ring, hovering around the middle of the pole," she followed the direction of his finger to where the snitch was lazily spiralling its way around the goal post, "It's right there - I've been keeping an eye on it the whole time. Surely finding it is half the trouble," he said, desperate for the Quidditch captain to just accept the fact that he could barely move.
"NO! Weasley, really?! Catch it with your hands! Not your feet!" Harry looked back to the pair and found that Ron was now sitting with his broom handle sticking in an extremely delicate place, his feet dangling down low with the quaffle trapped between his feet in a kind of pincer manoeuvre.
"It worked didn't it!!" Ron screeched back.
"I'm not being funny Angelina," Harry said pleadingly, "but I don't think I'm your biggest problem here!"
She let out a wary sigh, watching as Draco summoned the quaffle back to himself, "Yeah," she agreed, and Draco immediately pelted the ball directly back at Rom, smacking him straight in the face. Ron let out a dazed cry and barely clung onto his broom, "You're probably right."
On the Sunday evening of that weekend, Harry sat anxiously in the Gryffindor Common room with his eyes fixed on the fireplace ahead of him. Ron and Hermione were doing their homework around him, but as he'd completed his, he pretended instead to read his History of Magic textbook, though he hadn't actually taken in a single word since around seven o'clock, and it was coming up to nine now.
"Are you meant to be reading that book, Harry?" Hermione said shrewdly.
"Hmm, what?" Harry said faintly, "Oh, yeah, reading it. Really interesting,"
"You've been on the same page for the last twenty minutes," she pointed out, and Harry immediately turned the page, but didn't even pretend that he was looking at it, "Are you okay, Harry?" she asked, sounding concerned. She followed the direction of his gaze and landed on the fireplace across the room. She paused, before carefully pressing Harry's book down until it lay flat.
"Hmm, what?" Harry's attention snapped to her, and her eyes narrowed.
She glanced about quickly to make sure no one was near before speaking very quietly and urgently, "Have you told Sirius to firecall the common room?"
"What?!" Harry cried, ruining any attempt at discretion, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "No! No, of course not – that would be reckless and stupid, no," he said firmly.
"Then why do you keep looking at the fireplace?" she said, bewildered.
Ron was listening now, taking any opportunity to abandon his dream diary, "Do you think he might try to?" Ron asked warily.
Harry gave a nervous nod, "He didn't mention anything about it," Harry reassured them, "But… you know. He's done it before,"
"But he knows the risks – surely he wouldn't," Hermione didn't sound very confident.
"I'm pretty sure the risk just makes it fun for him, Mione'," Harry grumbled, slamming his book closed and giving up, "I just worry about him getting himself caught,"
"He's not your responsibility Harry," Hermione said firmly, "You've got other things to be worrying about – and he's meant to worry about you, not the other way around. He is the adult after all," she said tartly, and Ron snorted.
"Barely," he said with a chuckle, "It's more like he's our age sometimes, don't you think?"
"I think it's from being in Azkaban," Harry murmured, eyeing a third year as she passed by, "Draco thinks he treats me like I'm my dad,"
"He's not wrong," Hermione said reluctantly, "I didn't want to say anything in case it upset you, but I definitely think he sees you more like his best friend than his godson," Harry sighed, finally looking away from the fireplace, "But that's his problem Harry – not yours,"
"I can understand why he's like it though, to be honest," said Ron, "Must be awful being stuck up in that house, with your mum screaming at you all day long, calling you a blood traitor. I think I'd go a bit barmy as well," he glanced at Harry, suddenly a bit nervous, "Not that he's crazy or anything – but… but you know what I mean right?"
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Harry said tiredly, turning to look out the window, and freezing; it took a moment to figure out whether what he was seeing was just a shadow burnt onto his retinas from the fire or not, "Is that… an owl?" Ron and Hermione both looked over their shoulder to the window on the other side of the tower.
"Isn't that Hermes, Ron?" Hermione said, and for a moment, Harry blanked completely – who the hell was Hermes?
"It is!" Ron exclaimed, jumping to his feet and running to the other side of the room to open the window and relieve the owl of its letter, "I wonder why Percy's writing to me," he mused as he wandered back, and it finally clicked for Harry.
He felt he couldn't be blamed for forgetting the owl of his friend's brother. No one had spoken much at all about Percy, and Harry had only technically found out the story from Ginny in harsh whispers as they'd tried to clean the dining room floor at Grimmauld Place. The problem was that he couldn't quite remember if they'd been as mum on the subject last time as well – he was sure they'd at least had a few discussions at dinner about it. He wasn't quite sure what he and Draco could have done to make it so that even the Weasley children weren't talking about their absent brother. He hoped they hadn't accidentally made the estrangement permanent.
Ron opened his brother's letter and began to read quietly, out loud, his brow furrowing more and more with each line he read, until he was finished and ripping the letter up into tiny pieces, "What a git," he grumbled, chucking the pieces into the fire, and Harry found himself fixated on it again, "He's unbelievable!"
"Do you think he'll ever come around?" Harry asked hesitantly, and Ron snorted.
"Even if he does, I'm not sure we'll have him back," he scowled, "Mum probably would, but Bill was furious with him," Ron's eyes flashed with the slight panic of someone who had said too much – a look Harry had most frequently seen on Hagrid.
"Why?" Harry said slowly, and even Hermione looked confused.
Ron shifted uncomfortably, "He said," he licked his lips, "He tried to say that you were somehow putting that on," he nodded at the huge scar down Harry's neck, "Like it was a coordinated performance or something between you and Dumbledore – and Bill was there when he said it," Ron said darkly, "I've never seen Bill so angry. He started shouting and screaming that you'd been dying in his arms, and there was nothing he could do about it, and it was the most scared he'd ever been. Said, how dare Percy try and make out like one of the worst experiences of Bill's life was all a show, or- or an act or something," it hadn't occurred to Harry to think about how any of the witnesses to his near murder had felt about the event, and he felt mildly guilty for a second, even though it made no sense to be, "He asked if he was really accusing a teenager of faking their own attempted-murder. Bill packed his bags for him then and there – told him to get out and not come back until he realised what an idiot he was being,"
Harry took a deep breath in, and tried to process what he'd just heard, "Wow. That's a lot," Ron nodded silently, "Poor Bill," he settled on, and Hermione looked at him curiously, "It must have been hard for him – carrying that around," he added, "The most traumatising part of that night for me, wasn't what happened to me, but watching what happened to Cedric," he admitted, "So I can imagine it was similar for Bill, but I hadn't really thought about it before,"
"Come on," Ron said eventually, "Let's finish this work, or we'll never go to bed,"
At midnight, Harry still hadn't given up on looking into the fireplace. As they climbed the staircase up to the boy's dormitory, Harry cast one last glance over his shoulder, before finally letting himself relax, and taking himself to bed