The Boy of Fallacy
Chapter One
Flawed Hopes
She tended to the flower beds that lined the pond, while her two sons frolicked about the rear of Malfoy Manor. Though it was just the start of autumn, the weather was pleasant with white clouds sailing across a pale sky. A breeze accompanied the weather, blending in nicely with the subtle warmth of the sun that peeked out from every other cloud that passed.
The weather was much too nice today, luring out Narcissa and her children from the large manse. The beginning of autumn had brought a copious amount of rainfall, leaving her and the boys shut in the manor for days on end. And although the manse was massive, it was not enough to sate the energies of two seven-year-olds'.
Narcissa had her wand in her hand, casting a charm, pulling weeds out and cleaning the flower beds. Her head snapped up when her ears were met with childish laughter. Past the sprawling garden grounds, she saw her sons, Draco and Harry each taking turns with their toy broomstick.
The playful twosome elicited an affectionate smile from Narcissa. Pausing her gardening, the blonde woman could not help but watch the boys, innocently fly around the grounds.
She relished moments like this, wanting to soak in every chance she got to enjoy their naivety and innocence, especially Harry's.
Despite being brothers, Draco and Harry could not look more different from each other. Harry in particular, carried no physical trace of relation to any of the Malfoys. And there was a reason for that.
Draco was the epitome of a Malfoy. He was often told by several people, family, friends and strangers how he was practically a small shadow of his father, Lucius. Draco had inherited the silvery blond hair, lithe frame, sharp features and grey eyes. He was a Malfoy, there was no evidence arguing that.
But Harry's looks completely betrayed the Malfoy aesthetic. Like his brother, he was pale and thin but a tad shorter, though not by much. His hair was not sleek nor fair and never was it tame. Instead it was black and endlessly tousled. And the differences did not stop there. Harry's eyes were a striking green, even noticeable behind a pair of circular glasses. Though the most recognizable, physical trait that Harry had was the unusual scar on his forehead. It was just above his right eyebrow, mimicking the form of a lightning bolt.
In the past Harry had wondered why he looked so different, since it was so obvious. Lucius and Narcissa simply told him that he inherited traits from ancestors. And the origin of the scar remained hazy, only being fed the vague explantation that Harry was a "rambunctious" baby, which was unsupported by Harry's even-tempered nature. He had a lot of energy, sure but he had always been calm, introspective even.
Even though she had raised them for six years, Narcissa and her husband could not miss the unnerving differences in the two boys' appearances. But that did not mean Narcissa loved one more than the other.
Whenever she became lost in blissful adoration of her two sons, along with it came the dark, foreboding possibility that Harry would be snatched from her.
Harry was not her son. Not by blood, but she saw him as such just as much as Draco was. Neither boy knew the truth of Harry's lineage. And Narcissa wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible, despite the futility of it. Naturally she would have liked to have been honest with Harry about the truth, but the circumstances would not allow it; it would only shatter everything.
Harry's biological parents were murdered when he was just a year old by a dark wizard. The very wizard her family supported. Harry, suddenly orphaned was taken in by Lucius.
Narcissa's blood ran cold suddenly; expression growing grim as her thoughts detoured into a happy yet dour memory.
"He will return, dear," her husband's cold, clipped voice told her as he handed the sleeping baby into her arms.
Taking the child, she needn't ask who it was. Her eyes befell the newly, carved scar and she knew instantly. Admittedly Narcissa was reluctant when she took the baby. To her it spelled trouble and was traitorous, but her heart ached with compassion for the child, whose future changed within a night, and barely into the world.
"And when he does, the boy will be his—"
Narcissa tore herself back to the present, wanting to suppress her husband's words from her mind. The only good that came out of the memory was that Harry was brought into her life, and has had six wonderful years with him in her life so far. But in the back of her mind, each day there was a lingering fear that clutched at her heart that Harry would meet the fate that he did not deserve. She could not bear for it to happen, she wouldn't let it happen.
As the years went by, Narcissa worried more and more for the future. She didn't know how much longer Harry had left with them. It was a thought so vile it made her nauseous.
Suddenly feeling distressed, Narcissa went back to tending to the other flower beds, wanting to distract herself from unbidden thoughts, but not before stealing a glance at her sons once more. The sight before her remained the same as it was a minute before, enough to sate her worries.
Draco and Harry had taken a break from the toy broom, now both relaxing on their backs. Their heads lay in their hands for support as the two watched a small bird, sculpted from parchment, bewitched to fly, glide above them.
The bird was not so graceful even with magic, stumbling in the air by the slightest of winds.
"Stupid thing," Draco muttered with mirth.
Harry grinned in agreement. "Not much of a Snitch," he said, referring to the role the bird played in their game of "Quidditch". Of course it was nothing like the wizarding sport as they only had one broomstick, which was a toy and only hovered about two feet from the ground, and merely floated through the air than soar.
"Nope," Draco concurred, still watching the paper bird, flutter its wings in a fruitful effort to stay in flight. "I wish we had a real Snitch, and a proper broomstick…"
"Yeah," Harry sighed, now ignoring the bird and watching the clouds sail across the sky.
A pause grew between the boys as they continued to stare off into the sky.
"Harry what spot would you play?" Draco asked after a moment, looking over to his brother on his left. "You know in Quidditch."
Harry glanced at Draco briefly then returned his gaze to the clouds. "Doesn't matter to me, really. Doubt I'd make a good Seeker, though, with these." Harry wiggled his glasses.
"That shouldn't stop you," Draco encouraged. "The Seeker for Ireland wears glasses, well…bewitched ones, but he can still spot the Snitch."
Harry smiled in appreciation. "I know," he sighed.
"Either Keeper or Seeker for me," Draco went on, answering his own question. "Suppose I can't really say yet, though, since neither of us have gotten to play with a real broom yet."
"One day," Harry sighed.
"You sound like Mum," Draco replied with a yawn. "But suppose you're right. If I ever got my hands on one, I'd fly it for hours." His eyes began to droop as he continued to watch the clouds ghost across the sky.
Harry grinned in agreement. "Me too."
Again silence stretched as Harry and Draco found themselves getting drowsy. Draco was nearing sleep, whilst Harry managed to remain awake, though he was not far behind his brother. Though before Harry could fall asleep, he heard a whisper, so faint in the breeze but audible for him to take notice.
He sprang up, eyes furrowed in confusion. Draco remained asleep on his back beside him, not having heard a thing. Looking down at his brother, Harry thought it was the blond boy who made the noise.
Scanning around, Harry's eyes swept past the garden. Catching sight of the toy broom, the pond, his mother still tending to her flower beds and a pair of large, nervous eyes, poking from behind a tall hedge near a large tree.
The pair of eyes blinked, watching Harry. Startled at first, Harry realized it was their newest house elf. Dobby was the name, if his memory serves him right. Why was the thing just staring at him, though?
Dobby had been with the Malfoys for a month now, arriving towards the end of summer. But in that time, neither Harry nor Draco really interacted with him, only their parents and other hired help.
The elf looked so pitiful the way his bat-like ears drooped in trepidation and large eyes quivered with nerves. Harry couldn't blame the elf for being so edgy.
He recalls an incident after Dobby's first week at the manor, when the elf made the mistake of spilling tea on his father's cloak. Dobby was always so jittery to begin with the accident only amplified it. Lucius did not respond with remorse nor forgiveness but anger. The man swatted the elf's face with his black cane, demanding Dobby to not only clean up the spill, but recover his cloak, amidst threats if the elf did not comply.
Harry's chest seized with sympathy for Dobby. He only saw the elf around the manor but rarely stuck around long enough to see him at work. But he knew that Dobby was not treated the best, judging by its demeanor and bandages wrapped around various parts of its body.
Harry couldn't help but offer Dobby a smile, and a little wave from afar. Dobby's ears raised before he turned his head around to see if there was anyone else watching them.
Dobby appeared to have relaxed a tad bit, but his ears lowered once more. He did end up returning Harry a very, nervous smile, which vanished in a flash, as did the elf himself.
Harry got up slowly, wondering why the elf disappeared behind the hedge. He knew he probably shouldn't but a part of him wanted to try and talk to Dobby, show him a bit of kindness.
Harry abandoned his brother and their broomstick. The boy pursued the spot Dobby fled and to his surprise still found him there.
Once again Harry and Dobby locked eyes, but this time Dobby looked frightened.
"Oh—no," Harry began. "I'm not going…I just wanted—"
"Young Master M…M…Malfoy," Dobby said, stammering at the name. "W—was there anything you n—needed?"
Harry tried to smile, shaking his head. "No. And I'm Harry, just Harry is fine."
"I'm fully aware of who you are, sir," Dobby whispered.
"I thought to say hi," Harry explained. "You've been here for a while now, and I haven't really said anything to you."
"Elves do not speak with the members they serve unless they are given an order," Dobby told him. "It's not unusual, young mast—Harry…"
"Oh…" Harry intoned. "I guess…I never knew."
"I'm sorry, if I frightened you earlier," Dobby said suddenly.
Harry smiled. "You didn't. I just saw that you were here, and…"
"Your kindness is met with my utter gratitude," Dobby said, nodding his head curtly. "I did not mean to impose on your privacy."
"I hope I'm not imposing," Harry said. "I wanted meet you—"
"There's no need," Dobby interrupted. "As I said before, I know who you are, as does the rest of the wizarding world. You're famous."
Harry cocked a brow in befuddlement. Were house elves meant to flatter you?
"You don't know do you?" Dobby's next words robbed Harry from his reverie.
"What?" Harry probed. "What don't I know?"
Perhaps the elf was crazy. Maybe that's why he and Draco were told to leave him be.
Dobby looked at him incredulously, making Harry all the more eager to understand what he was implying.
Dobby averted Harry's gaze. He twiddled his spindly fingers, staring at the bandages, although debating something in his mind.
Harry noticed Dobby's hesitation and took a step forward, which Dobby responded with a step back.
"If it's a secret," Harry began. "I won't tell anyone else."
Still he was met with silence and Dobby looked a bit panic stricken now. But the elf did open his mouth as though ready to reply but was interrupted suddenly.
"Dobby?" came a third voice.
Dobby's ears perked up, his eyes looked past Harry, as the boy whirled around to find his mother standing behind them, with Draco not too far off staring with pulled brows.
"My husband is due to return in a few hours," Narcissa spoke to the elf. "I suggest you head to the kitchen and assist with preparing supper." The blonde woman spoke with terse authority.
Dobby merely bowed. "Yes, Mis—mistress Malfoy." He turned a heel and apparated with a resounding pop that echoed faintly in the empty air.
Narcissa walked over to where Harry stood, her demeanor lightening. "Harry was Dobby bothering you?"
Harry shook his head vigorously in response, hoping that he didn't get Dobby into any trouble. "He wasn't. We ran into each other, that's all."
To Harry's relief, Narcissa seemed to have believed him. "Alright then," she sighed. "Supper should be ready in a few hours. Until then you two can continue to play in the gardens." Her eyes darted between Harry and Draco's faces.
Both boys nodded, and with a parting smile, their mother turned a heel and went back to her flower beds.
"Oi, what were you really doing with the elf?" Draco asked once Narcissa was out of earshot.
"I just wanted to say hi to him," Harry answered hastily.
"Hi?" Draco asked in disbelief. "Why?"
Harry shrugged as he and Draco marched along the garden to where their broom lay forgotten. "I saw him by the hedge. I don't know…I feel kind of sorry for him."
"Sorry for Dobby?" Draco replied.
"Yeah. I mean have you noticed the bandages? I worry that Dad might be too hard on him." And he seems to know something about me… Harry mused inwardly.
"It's none of our business really," Draco elucidated. "Remember Mum and Dad said we shouldn't talk to him. His place is to serve not be our friend. Was wondering where you'd run off to when I woke up."
"Jealous that I found another playmate, one that stays awake?" Harry chided.
Draco wrinkled his nose, playfully. "Jealous of an elf? You're mad. C'mon, my turn on the broom."
Harry chuckled, allowing himself to relax after the encounter with Dobby. Though his curiosity of what Dobby knows was not abandoned, and continued to linger throughout the afternoon.
Not long after Harry and Draco resumed their game of pretend Quidditch, the sky darkened quickly. And just as quick as the clouds came, rain began to shower almost instantly. Narcissa and the boys all retreated indoors and by evening the rain carried on, plundering at the windows of the manor.
Dinner was slowly approaching as was Lucius's return from the Ministry. Harry had not seen Dobby since their encounter at the garden. He tried to busy his mind with fun games with Draco, but they all grew bored too quickly.
So now as they awaited the arrival of their father, the two boys sat by the fire in Lucius's den. They were huddled together wrapped in a thick fur, and a large tome opened before them.
Narcissa oversaw the dinner preparations as she did every night. As it was only her and her family, it was never too formal. And despite having a house elf and some hired help, Narcissa often assisted with making dinner. And as she set the table, Dobby entered the dining room with a bow.
"Mistress Malfoy," he said curtly. "Master Lucius has arrived."
"Thank you, Dobby," Narcissa said, albeit impassively.
And no sooner than the announcement of his arrival, the black yew doors in the foyer opened, inviting the sound of the brewing torrent outside. The doors shut, blocking it out once more and the whole manor became quiet.
Harry and Draco had their heads turned in the direction of the sound, wordlessly informing them that their father has returned home.
"Good evening, Narcissa," Lucius said, entering the dining room to find his wife there.
"Welcome home, dear," she replied with a smile. "How fares the Ministry?"
Lucius ghosted over to his wife, the tap of his black cane, echoing in the room. "Same as ever," came his bored response. "A couple more arrests were made today, though. More assault on Ministry officials."
"Same as ever, as you say," Narcissa said wryly.
"And just before coming here," Lucius went on coolly. "I paid a quick visit to Azkaban."
Narcissa's stomach gave an awkward lurch. Struggling to swallow the sudden lump in her throat, "Oh?" was all she managed to say.
"Merely to update some old friends," Lucius replied.
Narcissa knew what he meant. Lucius visited the Death Eaters from the first war, giving them any sort of information regarding the Dark Lord. Thankfully over the past couple of years since the events, hardly any sort of news of Voldemort was detected.
"Of course there's still nothing to report," Lucius went on, clicking his tongue.
As of now, most of the Death Eaters had disbanded. Some like her husband evading Azkaban using the alibi that they had been Imperiused to serve. Others, however were incarcerated, like her sister, Bellatrix.
Those who were imprisoned, some, Lucius remained in contact with, others condemned him for his betrayal. However, none knew that she and Lucius had Harry. And it remained that way. Lucius would never reveal his intentions with Harry for he wanted to be the one to reveal it to Voldemort himself, if the dark wizard ever resurfaced. Narcissa, of course kept it a secret due to her wanting to protect Harry.
"And how's Bellatrix?" Narcissa asked, suddenly, wanting to stray the conversation into a different route.
"I didn't stop to chat with her, but upon passing by, she's as loony as ever," Lucius answered.
Narcissa offered her husband a tight smile in response.
"Where are the boys?" Lucius said, much to the relief of Narcissa at the sudden change in subject.
"In the den," Narcissa told him.
"Dobby!" Lucius's voice called in the room. And with a pop, the elf appeared out of thin air, bowing before the patriarch.
"Master Malfoy," he said.
"Let the boys know it's supper," he ordered, not casting a look at the elf.
And just as quick as the elf arrived, Dobby Apparated into the den, summoning both Harry and Draco for dinner.
The boys, slammed the tome shut, Draco picking it up and putting it back in its proper place in the shelf. Harry lingered waiting for his brother only to be suddenly challenged to a race.
"Race you there, Harry!" Draco called out over his shoulder, scurrying out of the den.
Harry dropped the fur he had been sharing with Draco and ran out of the room.
Forgetting that Dobby was still in the room, Harry ran right into him, knocking the elf off his feet.
"Excuse me, Dobby," Harry said in a hurry, offering a hand to the elf.
Dobby picked himself up without Harry's help, eyes averted. Harry felt guilty then. Now Dobby was even more scared of him.
"Dobby?" Harry said after a moment of silence, the race between his brother swept from his mind. "Um…sorry about earlier."
Dobby remained anchored to his spot, but remained tense.
"I didn't mean to distract you from your work," Harry said. "And I hope I didn't get you into trouble."
More silence filled the air, before Dobby finally, spoke, voice brittle. "T—thank you, s—sir."
Harry smiled. "I'll be seeing you then," he said, skirting past Dobby and heading into the hall before he halted in his tracks.
"'Tis true what I say earlier," Dobby's voice said, softly.
Harry whirled around, brows pulled together. "What did—?" But Dobby was gone.
Harry didn't bother searching for Dobby. He didn't understand what the elf was going on about. Nor did he know what part of their conversation earlier did Dobby claim to be true.
He entered the dining room, finding that Draco had arrived already, taking his normal seat. At the head of the table, his father Lucius sat listening to whatever Draco was telling him. Narcissa was the first to notice Harry's arrival, turning to face him from her seat.
Harry sat next to Draco and Lucius broke his conversation with his other son to address Harry.
"Late for dinner, Harry," he said calmly. "Unlike you. Not feeling ill, are you?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Dad. Just…went to the loo."
"You sure you're not unwell?" Narcissa probed. Harry simply nodded.
Dinner wore on and Harry remained quiet. Though, normally less talkative as his brother, Harry would still take part in conversation with everyone at the table.
But this night, was different. Harry continued to ponder what Dobby was referring to and what the elf knew that he didn't. He suspected that maybe elves, although meek liked to indulge in pranks and lies. He didn't know much about the species, truthfully.
And when Dobby would enter the dining room to refill Harry's parents' glasses, Harry tried to get eye contact with the elf, but Dobby's eyes remained fixed elsewhere.
This was noticed by Lucius. "Harry, something the matter?"
Harry's green eyes locked onto his father's. "No."
"You're a tad quiet tonight, any reason why?" Lucius cocked his head to the side, awaiting Harry's response. And during that time, Harry caught sight of Lucius's grey eyes briefly flicker to Dobby who was taking Draco's empty soup bowl, before flashing them back to Harry.
"I guess just a little tired," Harry shrugged, the lie dripping off his tongue smoothly. "Spent the afternoon outside," he went on casually.
"I heard," Lucius replied. "Draco told me of your game of Quidditch, or attempt at it."
"Yeah, we took turns on the broom." Harry returned his gaze back at his plate, occasionally turning to look at the members of his family.
Dobby chanced a glance back at Harry, a mixture of pity and sadness on his elvish face.
After dinner, Lucius and Draco spent a bit of time together in his den. Harry knew it had something to do with dark magic. Their family was an advocate of the Dark Arts.
Harry on the other hand, wasn't keen on that type of magic. If anything he felt a natural aversion from it. He recalls taking a trip to Knockturn Alley with his father and just felt generally spooked by the shops and people.
He always felt that Lucius would be disappointed or feel shame that one of his sons did not tolerate dark magic but much to his surprise the man only encouraged the aversion.
"If it does not suit you, then that's perfectly fine," he'd say. "We all are drawn to what we like and repelled by what we don't. Everyone's different."
Narcissa agreed with this conclusion and for the most part Harry remained at ease about everything. But he couldn't help but feel a tad jealous that Draco and Lucius had something that brought them to bond more. Not like he didn't but sometimes he craved his father's attention but was always more subdued and quiet about it.
The evening eventually wore on and the tempest outside continued to plummet the manor with heavy rain and gusts of wind. The weather seemed to have an effect on the family as everyone grew drowsy and soon it was nearly time for bed for Harry and Draco.
The boys had already said goodnight to Lucius and Narcissa entered Draco's bedroom where both were sitting on Draco's bed, talking.
"Came to say goodnight," the woman said with a smile.
Harry hopped off his brother's bed, whilst the blond boy received a kiss from Narcissa.
Both Narcissa and Harry turned to leave the room as they made their way to Harry's own room. He got into his bed and like Draco was given a kiss from his mother.
"Goodnight, Harry," she said, lingering by the door.
Harry reclined on his back, removing his glasses and placing them on his bedside table. "'Night, Mum," he said, sleepily.
And Narcissa shut the door behind her. Another pleasant day, ending with a pleasant night. Like her husband said, there still remains nothing to report on Voldemort's whereabouts. And deep down Narcissa hoped that there would never be any news and with years gone without a peep or sighting, she felt as though her secret prayers were being answered.
She walked down the corridor, with a new hope in her heart.
But the peace of ignorance would not last forever.
A/N: Not much happening yet, but some insight to this story. This is an AU but I will try to have this story follow as much of the canon plot as I can. The difference being that Harry's upbringing and relation to the Malfoys will play parallels into the main story and serve as conflicts. And because Harry was raised by the Malfoys in this story, the Dursleys don't exist, but may get a brief mention down the line.