Chapter three is here, readers. I hope I did an alright job of portraying Narcissa. Her character isn't vastly explored in the series so it is a bit difficult to imagine how she would react in this situation. I mainly focused on her being protective of her son, because that's how she always was. Draco being safe was always her first priority.

Anyway, on with the chapter! Enjoy.

Warnings – none


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Chapter Three - Frozen

Written by Illumination

Having been to the Manor before, Harry was able to apparate within the vicinity. He was only a few dozen yards shy of appearing on the front doorstep. Fortunately, he'd landed inside the large black ebony fence, so he didn't have to deal with the gate which would most likely deny him entrance.

The mansion loomed up before him, just as he remembered. Eerie; ominous, almost. The black spikes upon the roof reached up toward the gray clouds. The hedges surrounding the path up to the house seemed to lack some of their luster. Harry made his way toward the manor slowly, gripping his wand cautiously. It was quite possible that he wasn't welcome here, even though Narcissa had – for lack of a better word – invited him. He had no idea what ambushes could be hiding along the path, placed there to discard of intruders just like him.

He'd had to tell Hermione and Ron. Ginny helped. Hermione seemed to take it well; in fact, she'd admitted she agreed with Ginny, and assumed this would happen someday. Ron, on the other hand, promptly left. Harry had expected something along those very lines; after all, Ron had already been on edge with him for breaking it off with his little sister. To find out Harry had done it because he had feelings for their former enemy... Well, that about did it. Harry felt guilty, but he knew Ron would forgive him, in time. Hermione confirmed that.

"Ron will get over it. I'll talk to him. Harry, do what you think is right for you, but..." She'd held his shoulders with both hands. "... Come back to us, in one piece, alright?"

Harry smiled faintly as he recalled her embrace. She had a way of making him feel like someone cared; not once had she told him he shouldn't do something. She'd always supported him, because she trusted his judgment. Not that Ron wasn't like that, but... Hermione's initial reactions were just more... Reassuring.

Finally, he halted on the doorstep. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted the letter Mrs. Malfoy had sent him in reply just last night. Her handwriting was neat and smooth; similar to what he imagined Draco's to be like.

Dear Mr. Potter,

I must admit, I was surprised to receive a letter from a little gray owl this morning. He seemed quite put out. It's no wonder – the poor thing seems fit to be a local messaging owl. Nonetheless, he delivered the letter to me and hunkered down for a nap on my windowsill while I wrote out this reply.

I hold nothing against you, Harry. The war is over. Our beliefs are not the same, but you are part of the reason Draco and I are free of the Dark Lord. Perhaps it would be different if Lucius were here, but now I can vouch for Draco as well when I say these things.

I think it would be best if we were to speak in person.

Narcissa Malfoy

The brunette stuffed the letter back into his pocket and raised emerald eyes to the large oak door. It looked like it would burn if he were to touch it. Lifting a hand, he tentatively gripped the knocker. It was shaped like a dark green snake, and the Malfoy's family crest formed the upper part of the knocker. Nothing happened, so Harry lifted it and knocked twice.

The door opened by itself. Like magic. Harry smirked and stepped into the dark entryway. The door shut quietly behind him. "... Hello?" Jade eyes peered around the room he was standing in. It seemed like a den of sorts, complete with a fireplace and bookshelves.

A sudden movement was sighted out of the corner of his eye, and he turned toward it quickly, gripping his wand tightly enough to whiten his knuckles. The figure stepped around the corner, revealing herself. His fingers loosened. Narcissa.

"Harry."

She spoke but one word; his name. They both remained motionless, and silent, for the time it took them to register the gravity of the situation. Finally, she stepped forward, approaching him, and stood before him. "Harry. I trust you made it here safely?" He nodded, olive orbs lingering on the features of her face. Draco didn't carry many of her traits, besides the distinct colour of her eyes. Draco's eyes were a liquid mix of his mother's and father's; blue-gray.

What she did next was unexpected, although somewhat anticipated. The woman embraced him, squeezing him lightly, and then stepped back once again. There was an aura of gratitude and trust surrounding them. "Come," she murmured, turning and leading him into the drawing room. It was all too familiar. This was where the Death Eaters had met during the second wizarding war. Voldemort himself had sat in one of the chairs at the long table. Harry could still hear Hermione's screams as Bellatrix tortured her, carving her blood heritage into her arm.

"The Ministry has been taking things."

Harry turned back to look at Narcissa, who was standing a few lengths behind him. She nodded her head toward the deep purple walls. Harry dully noted that they did look rather bare. "I'm afraid our fortune has been lost. We will keep the house, mind you, but... We could have lost much more."

Harry examined her sad expression. The Malfoys hadn't escaped the war without scars either. Lucius was in Azkaban for life, Bellatrix dead... Narcissa seemed rather lonely, and appreciative to have a guest. That fact brought Harry's main cause to his attention.

"Where's Draco?"

Narcissa raised blue eyes to look at him for a long moment, and then motioned for him to sit. Warily, he settled down in one of the chairs. Why had she hesitated in her answer? Uncomfortable – even dreadful – thoughts passed through his head, and he squirmed a bit in his seat as she made herself comfortable beside him.

"After we realized you were alive, we left Hogwarts. We returned here. Lucius and I decided on a place to hide Draco first; he was the priority. I accompanied him to a hideout at an old friend's house, far away from here. I returned to find the Ministry taking Lucius." She lowered her head. Harry could tell it was difficult for her to speak about this. "I can still hear his yells. He didn't want to go. Of course I protested. I'd known they would come for him, but how they arrived so quickly escapes me. There was nothing I could do. They took him. We were given no time to say goodbye." She raised her head, jaw set firmly but eyes teary. "Some of them stayed behind and questioned me. Naturally, I was not liable to be arrested. I was never a Death Eater. They wanted to know where Draco was. They tortured me. But I never told." She sighed, obviously rattled by reliving the scenes. "Eventually, the Ministry announced a hearing date, claiming that if Draco was not present on that day, he would be considered a fugitive and, if caught, sentenced to Azkaban for life as well. Draco made the choice to attend the trial. I accompanied him. Not enough evidence was found to convict him. They let him go with restrictions on his use of magic and probation." A slight smile touched her face. "All I ever wanted was for him to be safe."

Harry ran his fingers along the golden designs etched the table. "So he's alright now, right?"

Narcissa dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a napkin conjured out of thin air. "Yes." Harry waited until she was done, and fixed his eyes on hers.

"Where is he?"

Again, Narcissa seemed a bit uncomfortable. She looked down, and then placed her hands in her lap. Her expression was carefully neutral, revealing nothing about what was running through her mind. "What do you want with my son, Mr. Potter?"

Back to formalities. Harry straightened himself, musing over his possible answers. After a few moments of silence, he met her eyes sincerely. "I made a mistake. Loads of them, actually... But, I... Ah." He looked down, shaking his head. How could he explain this to her without awkwardness or her refusing to let him see her son? "This is all coming out wrong–..."

"He missed you." Her voice was but a murmur as she interrupted his ramblings gently. "During the time he was in hiding, we wrote letters. He mentioned your name more than once. He kept asking me if I knew anything about you; if you were alive, where you were... I told him all I knew."

"I just want to reconcile with him. There were too many words left unsaid," Harry murmured, looking at her hesitantly. She seemed to understand the unspoken words that were alight in his gaze.

"He found a place of his own nearly seven months ago. I can give you his address. But Harry, I insist that you stay the night here before you travel to see him. It's quite late, and you need rest."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but the stern, motherly expression on Narcissa's face prevented him from doing so. With a sigh, he nodded. "Here, you can sleep in Draco's room."


The sheets still smelled like him.

After nearly seven months, his scent still lingered within the fabric of both the blankets and the sleeping clothes Harry borrowed. He flopped down on the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and inhaled deeply. Releasing it with a small shudder, he pulled the blankets up to his clavicle and stared at the very ceiling that Draco had stared at for the many summer months between school years.

Tomorrow he would see him. After almost two whole years. Apprehension pooled in his stomach for the first time as he realized the reality. In the past few days, he had gone from vaguely wondering where Malfoy was to feeling an intense urge to see him and needing him in his life. And as if that wasn't enough stress on his emotions, tomorrow he would look into those silvery-blue eyes he had dreamt of and confess everything that he himself could barely comprehend. How he would make sense of it, he didn't know. But he'd always gotten by on improvisation, even when it came to defeating Voldemort. He had more confidence in just letting the words come out than trying to plan it and worry himself up even more than he already was.

He drew in a deep breath and shut his eyes, breathing in Draco's essence. Tomorrow would be a long day. He needed the sleep. And tonight, he could pretend that the blonde was lying right next to him.

Even if it was just pretend.