For the first time in several years, were someone to ask Harry his opinion of Narcissa Malfoy, the end result would be less than flattering.
The moment Draco heard his mother's voice; he went completely stiff in Harry's arms. Apparently, that was all that was needed for Draco to realize this encounter was not, in fact, a dream. Harry, on the other hand, was used to a Narcissa who smiled indulgently at her son with Harry; who had, on one memorable occasion, seen quite a bit more of both of them than propriety allowed. Sighing, Harry looked at Draco… and immediately wished he hadn't as the sight of his flushed face and swollen mouth was more than enough incentive for Harry to tune Narcissa right back out and drag Draco away. He did, after all, know where Draco's bedroom was. However, the slight interruption was enough to remind him that a fifteen year old Draco Malfoy was slightly different than an eighteen or nineteen year old Draco Malfoy. This Draco was not comfortable displaying affection to Harry.
He sighed again.
"Potter…" Draco began in a warning growl, pressing his no longer roving hands firmly against Harry's chest and pushing him away, "you…"
What he was Harry didn't discover, as Narcissa chose that moment to drag Harry to the guest bedroom she had allotted. Instructing him to stay put until dinner, she calmly informed Draco that Harry was their guest for the evening, and she did not want to hear of anybody – including his father – discovering their housemate. She then wished Harry a pleasant afternoon and ordered a still spluttering Draco to follow her down the hall.
The room was beautiful. Vaulted ceilings, done in cream and varying shades of blue, the room shouted at comfort and welcome. Very Narcissa, and utterly opposite the ostentatious formal rooms that elder generations of Malfoy's had decorated. As refreshing as the room was, however, Harry was desperately itching to do something… anything… He could not believe how enervated he had become from one small interaction with Draco. Yet after not seeing him for several months, Harry truly felt as though a portion of his soul had been returned to him. Giving up on entertaining himself, Harry deliberately disobeyed Narcissa's command and started wandering down the hallway towards the parlor and dining room. He had been in the Manor only once during the war, a terrifying night he still associated with Hermione screaming, but never before the actual war itself. He rather enjoyed this time alone to explore.
"Please tell me," a cold voice hissed out that immediately had Harry freezing in place, "precisely what the fuck you think you are doing."
Feeling every inch a precocious teenager, Harry turned and stared into the fathomless gaze of Severus Snape. A highly agitated Severus Snape. A Severus Snape who looked as though tearing Harry apart limb from limb would be both a highly entertaining and well earned punishment.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Lupin had seen him disappear with Narcissa. He must have gone straight to the Order, who in turn sent their spy out to find out what was going on. How the Hell was he going to explain to the man that he willingly went with the mother of his most hated enemy?! For a moment, all Harry could do was stare at Snape in fear and confusion – before some other emotion started welling up inside of him. Snape was alive; he was here; he was still looking out for Harry. Suddenly Harry had to blink back tears as he looked into the glowering face of the man who had loathed him and protected him better than anyone else in his life.
"Well?" Snape bit out, only to freeze further as Harry launched himself into his arms. Harry ignored completely the fact that Snape immediately stiffened in his arms, ignored the fact that he should be embarrassed to let the man see him cry. He simply held on to Snape and absorbed the energy he radiated. Snape was alive. "Potter? Have they harmed you? Are you ill?" Snape clearly was not comfortable with random displays of affection, and naturally concluded that Harry would not be hugging him without provocation. Or having been tortured into insanity. Whatever.
Harry grinned, delighted at the prospect of having dinner with someone he desperately wished to thank, his boyfriend, and his love's mother. Wait… no, he couldn't. How could he possibly explain Snape turning up at the mansion? Narcissa knew Snape was a Death Eater – no way could he be seen with Harry.
Suddenly feeling very old and tired, Harry shoved Snape away from him. "You have to leave," he said flatly. "I'm fine, I promise. They haven't hurt me." If anything, Snape looked even angrier, though at the words he tilted his head a little, as though examining a specimen under a microscope. He opened his mouth to speak but Harry cut him off. "Look, I know you were worried, and that's my fault. I should have realized Moony would go to you, and I'm sorry. But I am planning something, and it's crucial none of this gets out. Look… go talk to Hermione. If you get her alone, she'll tell you – if you swear not to tell Dumbledore or anyone else." Snape's eyes narrowed, and again Harry cut him off. "No, I am not being reckless or stupid. Actually…err… maybe I kinda am. But I have a plan. If you can prove that I can trust you not to tell anyone I'll tell you everything. Only... well, this summer Dumbledore had his reasons not talking to me, right? I remember. So, let him do what he needs to do, and I'll do what I intend." A sudden thought slammed into Harry. "Only, um… if you interrogate Hermione you need to put an Imperturbable Charm on the door to keep it secret – if I remember correctly the twins developed their Extendable Ears this summer."
Snape gazed at him for a moment before speaking very softly. "Had? Developed?"
Fuck. Leave it to Snape to notice the difference in tenses. Harry opened his mouth to offer a lame excuse when a sudden noise alerted him to the fact they were having this conversation in a hallway. A very open hallway. Inside Malfoy Manor. "Look," Harry whispered urgently, already backing up, "just leave, ok? You never saw me if Narcissa or Draco asks. You were just… looking for a potion ingredient or something. I'll be back…" no way was he saying he was going home "… at the Dursley's tomorrow. Just please don't say anything. Tell everyone I'm fine, ok?" Begging him with his eyes, Harry turned and ran back to his room.
Dinner was a quiet affair. Draco, for his part, had decided to ignore Harry completely; the occasional venomous glare his only form of communication. However, the one time Harry met his eyes, the wash of pink across Draco's face told him precisely why Draco refused to interact. After a penetrating look at Narcissa, Harry concluded Snape must have disappeared, and allowed himself to relax and work on making Draco blush as much as possible. Although, if asked, Harry would not be able to tell what he had eaten, it was one of the best meals he'd ever had. After dinner Draco escaped to his room with a muttered good night, and Narcissa and Harry adjourned into the living room.
It was now time to implement Stage Two.
HDHDHD
Dark and difficult times lie ahead.
Had he not parroted that to the children he'd sworn to protect just mere months ago? Sighing, Albus Dumbledore frowned down at his desk. It had been three days since Harry had reappeared just as suddenly as he had left back at his relatives home, and still no one knew what he had been doing in the company of Malfoy's to begin with. Snape knew more that he was letting on, Dumbledore would almost swear it. After all, when questioned hadn't his eyes lit up with the same disturbing light they had held when Dumbledore had ordered him back to Voldemort's side? Was it no longer safe to trust him? Sure, he knew Snape's original reason for joining the Order, but with his hatred towards Harry, was Snape still trustworthy? And now with this recent development….
As though in sympathy for his addled thoughts, Fawkes let out a quiet trill of reassurance. Gaining comfort as always, Dumbledore gazed at the beautiful Phoenix moments before a quiet knock alerted him to the arrival of his next appointment. Mentally bracing himself, he called out admittance.
Looking regal and intimidating, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy swept into the office. After declining both Lemon Drop and offer of tea, Dumbledore's face gave away nothing of his rising panic as Lucius smugly informed him that both the minister and Board of Governors had unanimously decreed Narcissa the perfect solution to the empty Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Narcissa, Lucius informed him, was greatly looking forward to this new opportunity. The lady in question said nothing, and simply sat gazing at Fawkes with a blank expression.
Twenty minutes later Dumbledore watched his office door close with a sense of despair. Death Eaters teaching at Hogwarts… how was he going to be able to control this? Snape must remain as a spy; whatever information would Narcissa pass on to her husband?
Sensing his distress, Fawkes flew over to gently land on the arm of his chair. If only Snape wasn't such an accomplished Occlumens. Voldemort was back, Harry seemed unaware of the danger he was in, and Dumbledore had a headache that never seemed to quite go away. Fifty years ago Dumbledore knew that young Tom Riddle was capable of great acts of evil. Now, just as certainly, Dumbledore feared that Tom Riddle grown into Voldemort would recognize the connection he shared with young Harry; and exploit it. Sighing, Dumbledore was rudely yanked from his train of thoughts when the mirror he used for communication with the Order of the Phoenix started vibrating at an alarming rate.
Harry, one again, had vanished from the Dursley's.
HDHDHD
Harry felt nauseous as he silently followed Narcissa under the relative safety of his invisibility cloak. Having separated with her husband outside the gates of Hogwarts, Narcissa had apparrated straight to Harry. Now, for the second time in his life, he was sneaking into the Ministry of Magic. For the second time in his life he was going into the Department of Mysteries. Images crowded his head, battling for dominance. Sirius falling into a rippling and whispering veil… Ginny, face pale, irritably snapping she was fine seconds before her ankle gave out… Ron, laughing hysterically as the brains flew toward him… Hermione softly saying "oh" before crumpling unconscious… Neville screaming… Bellatrix Lestrange laughing… Sirius falling… the Dementors surrounding innocent Muggle born witches and wizards…Umbridge smiling in perverse pleasure as she condemned others… Moody's magical staring dully from a door… Sirius falling…oh God, he was going to be sick.
Harry wasn't aware he was trembling until Narcissa's hand moved fractionally to the left and she whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Harry? We're almost there. Are you all right?"
Was he all right. How the Hell could he answer that? Somehow, in agreeing to this crazy plan, Harry had forgotten the utter reality of the situation. Was he to forever be haunted by images and memories that only one other person knew as reality? For the first time since arriving back in time, Harry fervently wished Hermione was with him. He needed her strength; her intelligence – her memories. What was he doing marching into the ministry with Narcissa Malfoy? "I'm ok," he whispered quietly.
Nodding almost imperceptibly, Narcissa walked out of the elevator and up to the black door that had haunted Harry's nightmares for many years. Entering briskly, Harry barely heard the whisper of silk as an invisibility cloaked individual hastily moved out of the way. Oh shit… the door was guarded… more questions and suspicions for people to develop. How could he have forgotten Tonks yawning at the kitchen table, or the night he… err… Nagini… bit Arthur? He would never forget the coppery smooth tang of blood in his mouth.
Harry was abruptly yanked from his musings when a sallow faced man approached and monotonously informed them no one was allowed to enter the Hall of Prophecies. Staring coldly down her nose at the man, Narcissa arrogantly repeated the lie Harry had ordered her to memorize. There was a prophecy about Draco taking place this year, and Narcissa needed to view the date to ensure her son – the Malfoy heir – was adequately prepared. After a tense moment the man conceded – provided he escorts Narcissa to and from the Malfoy family vault. They had family vaults for prophecies? Jeez, how proud were the Malfoy's if they felt they had to own even one of those? Harry decided the thought really wasn't worth pursuing as the man slowly opened the correct door.
The minute they entered the room, Harry gave Narcissa's waist a squeeze and disappeared. Some things, no matter the age, one never forgets. Even in his twenties Harry had nightmares of torturing…err… of Voldemort torturing… Sirius, at the end of aisle ninety seven. Harry moved as swiftly as he dared, and felt his heart constrict as he wondered if any of the prophecies he and his friends had destroyed were nearly as dangerous as the one now sitting warmly in his palm. Praying he was not preparing the world for another megalomaniacal dictator, Harry resisted looking at the names on other prophecies and waited anxiously by the door until Narcissa and the other man appeared. Careful to stick close as they left, Harry hardly dared to breathe as the elevator climbed back up to the Atrium. Had the man in the invisibility cloak followed them? Was it safe to breathe? Harry's paranoia was not helped by the fact that the first person he saw as the door reopened was Lucius Malfoy standing arrogantly by the Fountain of Magical Brethren, for all accounts waiting for someone. Harry noted almost hysterically that he had never liked the vapid statue and had felt no qualms over its destruction.
"Narcissa?" Lucius revealed his surprise through a narrow eyed look.
"Hello darling," Narcissa responded silkily. Malfoy's simply did not do outlandish displays of affection in public. "I was simply checking on dear Draco's prophecy, to ensure the correct preparation of events." Knowing full well no such prophecy concerning Draco existed, Lucius' attention sharpened on his wife. Almost casually, Narcissa leaned forward to smooth invisible wrinkles from her husband's shoulder, parroting precisely what Harry had instructed in an almost inaudible whisper, "the door was guarded -invisibility cloak."
Pulling back to smile blankly at Lucius, Narcissa dismissively announced she was off to go shopping and would see him at home. Lucius, looking rather proud of his sneaky wife, leaned in to kiss her cheek in an expression of his gratitude before noticing Prime Minister Fudge walking over. After accepting the correct platitudes over her new teaching position, Narcissa, with Harry in tow, quickly excused herself to Floo to an outlandishly expensive department store before apparrating back to the Dursley's.
"Well," Narcissa eyed him levelly, "were you successful with whatever it is you were looking for?" Narcissa was aware Voldemort was after something in the Department of Mysteries, but had yet to learn precisely what.
Feeling imminently relieved to no longer be at the ministry, Harry couldn't stop the relieved smile from breaking across his face as he nodded back to her.
"Right," Narcissa nodded once to show her understanding, "I will see you the first of September then."
Harry gave a wicked grin and a wink. "Give Draco my love," he said in a falsely innocent voice.
Narcissa's eyes lit up with laughter and a small smile appeared on her face, though she made no further comment and turned on the spot, disapparrating with a pop.
Harry carefully made sure the prophecy was secured before sneaking into the house. Best not be seen by his uncle, as there was no telling what the man would do if he thought he could help someone get rid of Harry for good. Distracted by this though, Harry was therefore unprepared to walk into his bedroom and see his trunk sitting packed and ready to go in the middle of the room. Turning in confusion, Harry saw Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsly Shacklebolt standing in his room.
Whoops. Guess two disappearance from his "safe house" was too much. He was off to Grimmauld Place.