Chapter 1 – Draco gets a surprise
Draco Malfoy had just returned home from a terrible first year at Hogwarts. As the only heir to the most noble House of Malfoy, he had expected everyone to whom he deigned suitable to offer friendship to fall over themselves in accepting. He had certainly not expected the famous Harry Potter to coldly spurn his generous offer, then turn around and attach himself to society of the lowest kind, one Ronald Weasley, child of a family of dirt-poor Muggle-lovers, and another Hermione Granger, Mudblood. He had not expected Harry Potter to be sorted into his rival house, to be chosen to join the Quidditch team as its youngest player in a century, and to lead his house to victory over the Slytherins who've monopolized the House Cup for six years. Draco Malfoy had not been brought up to be only second best, and he was not enjoying the feeling of rivalry.
Draco Malfoy had been brought up to be cold, aloof, and smugly superior, certain in his knowledge of his flawless breeding, and how that virtue alone made him about five dozen rungs of the ladder above everyone else. Naturally, achievements which reflect this were expected of him, and when he fell below this expectation in any way, he was punished accordingly and without mercy, though in private, which at least lessened sting of public shame considerably. Which is why, upon his return to Malfoy Manor after a year of failure to be the most superior, he rather expected at least two weeks of pointedly frigid treatment, more scathing than any heated scolding or whipping could be, from his father. His mother would alternate between radiating similar frigid disappointment when his father was present, and anxious fussing when his father has left the Manor on some business or other during the day, while always keeping an ear out for his father's return. He was rather disconcerted to find that such was not the case. While Lucius Malfoy was rather distant, it was really no more than usual, the distracted handshake with which he greeted his son at King's Cross Station suggesting that he was preoccupied with another matter altogether. And since Lucius directed no obvious anger at his son, Narcissa was free to fuss over her son to her heart's content once the sentiment could safely be hidden within the forbidding white marble halls of the Manor, much to Draco's outward irritation and inner contentment.
Still, Draco reflected after a week of domestic peace, something has to be up. Maybe Father hasn't heard of everything in the past year yet. I'll still be in for it when he does.
Draco had his answer three weeks after he came home from King's Cross. On a Sunday family luncheon, after the green bean and sliced smoked salmon salad entrée, the cold roast pheasant, and the blood orange and raspberry sorbet, Lucius announced that the Malfoy Manor would be expecting visitors in between fastidiously dabbing at his lips with the monogrammed linen napkin and the appearance of coffee on the dining table.
Not exactly a big deal, Draco thought, and certainly would have voiced out loud, had he not been trying to avoid drawing his father's attentions towards his various failures the past years. Certainly visitors at Malfoy Manor were not rare, with dinners for Lucius' Ministry associates and Slytherin cronies being held almost every week (though rarely at the same time).
"I don't know if you remember Reginald Prince, Narcissa?" Lucius asked casually as he inhaled the steam rising from his coffee, gaze focused on the depths of the coffee cup as though hoping to divine something although the coffee had most definitely been filtered and no dregs were present.
"Reginald… Prince?" Narcissa frowned delicately as she tried to remember. "That fellow two years above you at Hogwarts? I thought he had disappeared years ago. Everyone said he had been taken by… Or had been killed on a mission for him."
Lucius gave a humorless laugh. "That old fox? Oh no, he fooled all of us. Or his family did. Apparently his family sent him out to the Far East immediately after he left Hogwarts. To further the family business, they said."
"Well, it is good that he is still well," Narcissa replied, so studiously devoid of any sign of surprise that Draco has the impression that she had rehearsed this conversation with his father before, as she stirred sugar into her coffee. "Did you hear from him recently, then?"
"Indeed. I had a letter from him a month back. The fellow had met the daughter of an old potioneer family in Japan. They married and had a daughter. The wife died soon after the daughter was born. The daughter is eleven now, or will be soon – old enough to attend Hogwarts. Old Reggie wrote that he wanted his daughter to attend Hogwarts – get a good English education like an English girl should – but was worried she won't have a place outside of school to stay at," Lucius explained between sips of coffee. Draco's feeling that his parents were having a staged conversation increased, and he shifted in his seat, wondering uncomfortably where it was all leading to.
"All the children go home during the holidays," Narcissa stated emotionlessly, toying with the handle of her coffee cup.
"Japan is halfway around the globe. Too far to be Apparating or Flooing to twice a year," Lucius replied.
"True. What about the Prince estate? None of the Princes are left, but surely the old estate is still under Reginald's name," Narcissa suggested.
"It is still there," Lucius agreed. "But Reggie was worried that the old house, shut up for so many years, won't be particularly – agreeable – for a young girl all alone."
"He must set a store by that girl," Narcissa observed. "But then, he'd always been the most Hufflepuff Slytherin to grace the common room. Well, what will he do about the situation, then?"
"That he does," Lucius agreed irrelevantly. After a pause and a shrewd glance at Draco, who was liking the conversation less and less, he finally met Narcissa's eyes and said, "I've offered to take her on as a ward during the holidays."