Chapter 10: And Change

Summer was unpleasant in every European city, whether it was sweltering hot, thickly humid or paradoxically cold. That was what Severus thought. Even in the relative coolness of the shaded outdoors at the Malfoy's Parisian Manor, he felt the heat simmering across his skin as though he sat before an open fireplace. True, the long sleeves and high neck of his black robe likely didn't help the matter much, but he could hardly deign to dress in a less than seemly fashion simply because of the weather.

Still, there was only so much Cooling Charms could do in the face of the glaring force of the sun, and Severus would be damned if he was going to go inside to skulk behind closed curtains while Narcissa and the boys lazed outdoors.

For in spite of the heat, Severus was actually quite enjoying the scenery of the Manor's grounds. Even after visiting for nearly two weeks he found that the view from the hut-like pergola was peacefully splendid. Set on an acreage, one of the largest that was still considered a part of Paris, the view from the back of the manor was of a tamed garden of multi-hued flowers that dribbled gradually into the a broad expanse of rich, vibrant greenery. Bereft of trees until the very outskirts of the residence, the line of forest faded into shadows before hitting the outer wall.

It was a peaceful scene. The Muggles were kept at a distance by both the walls and the intimidation factor of the expensive property. It was like a little world of its own, and so far removed from Hogwarts and the tiresome strain of teaching. Peaceful, save for…

Draco's echoing laughter could be heard over the marked distance he stood with Potter across the grounds. But even that was nearly drowned out by the gunning of a powered engine, resounding over the flat plains of grass like a Muggle jet engine. Had it not been so entirely unexpected the first time he had heard it, devoid of the Muffling Charms of a Wizarding model, Severus was sure he would have blasted the motorbike into smithereens the moment he stepped out of the door.

It was the thirty-first of July, and Draco and Narcissa had been living in Paris for a full two weeks now. Naturally, wherever Draco went the Potter boy followed, and vice versa. Severus had to question sometimes whether there was a Sticking Charm affixed to their almost permanently joined hands for they seemed largely incapable of detaching their fingers from one another.

Draco had completed his N.E. with flying colours, topping the school with only Granger as his primary competitor and impressively making the records for the highest mark in Ancient Runes in three decades. Severus had been secretly proud of his godson's efforts; more than that, the boy – young man, really – had seemed hardly fazed at all by the exams. Almost relaxed, even. So much that Severus had been worried before he'd drilled each of the boy's teachers to determine that he hadn't simply given up hope in his studies entirely.

Far be it from 'giving up', Draco had cruised through each subject. Albeit Charms, really, and even then his unexpected yet bountiful relations with Granger had picked up the slack in that area. Thank Merlin that was the only thing he seemed to have assimilated from the girl. The tiresome Gryffindor seemed to work herself only further and further into a frazzled mess as the exams loomed with increasing foreboding.

Not Draco. The boy had rarely been one to stress over exams, but even so he took the N.E. with a surprisingly blasé attitude. He didn't even appear overly self-satisfied with his performance. Satisfied, yes, but not to the degree Severus had expected from the marks he achieved. It was as though he had developed a healthy balance of priorities, that his education was on par or even less important than other aspects of his current life. It didn't take a genius to figure out what such other aspects were.

Severus could have been concerned as to the influence of Potter on his godson. He knew that to do so was probably intruding too much into Draco's life, that Draco didn't need nor want him to fill the static hole that Lucius had left behind with his passing. And he wasn't, not really. But some things became concerning to him nevertheless. He couldn't help it; Severus had been spending more and more time with Draco, both through his schooling and externally through his relations with Narcissa. It just seemed to happen that he began to feel more protective of him.

And yet despite his potential concerns, Potter seemed to genuinely have nothing but a positive influence on Draco. In one of his 'interrogations' as Draco had called them, the young Malfoy had been discussing his desire to visit Harry that weekend despite N.E. being the very next week. Severus hadn't even had to say anything before his fears were alleviated.

"Harry forbade me from leave school. He said, and I quote, 'that he doesn't want to be responsible for destroying my future to travel eight hours between campuses'." Draco had worn a forlorn expression that Severus had never seen before, though brightened up moments later. "But he said that if I write up a study timetable for the weekend then he'll come and visit me."

Severus had to fight to hold back his surprise. He hadn't expected anyone could truly force Draco to do something he didn't want to. Any attempts he'd made had left the boy making half-hearted attempts and dragging his feet the entire way. "And you intend to stick to this schedule, even with Potter's visit?"

Draco shrugged. "You don't know Harry very well. If I tried to skive off studying… well, Harry would be more likely to ignore me for the day and shut himself in a book than comply with any suggestions on my part." And the distant smile that Draco gave was purely sickening to behold.

How very un-Malfoy.

Yet, at least one thing he'd claimed was true. Severus didn't know Harry Potter at all, really. His initial dislike for the boy two years prior had been based purely upon his very distinct connection to the Potter Severus had known from his youth. Even Severus could consider reflectively that such ferocious loathing of the boy had been irrational. Harry Potter was not his father. Not that Severus woudl admit it aloud. Potter Junior was far removed from the hated memory of James. If anything, he was more reminiscent of his mother.

And therein lay the crux of the matter. Even after all these years, even after her death and even before then, Severus loved Lily Evans. She'd been his first childhood friend, his first school friend, and the first girl he had ever loved. He had to admit that a big part of his persisting hatred for James Potter was resentment over her favouring the cursed Gryffindor bastard. It was an undying grudge that he couldn't shrug off, no matter how long overdue their resolution was. And it would likely remain stagnant, given that neither Lily nor James were around to make amends with.

Severus was initially repelled from the younger Potter by the superficial glimpse of James he'd had upon first beholding him. That had faded with familiarity, for truly the boy resembled Lily as much as he did his father. And when that mask, fabricated only by Severus himself, had been shed, it was far more difficult to hate the boy. There was not even the argument of the boy's Gryffindor status to despise; Dumbledore had professed that he "couldn't be sorted".

No, Severus knew next to nothing about Harry Potter. He had his suspicions about the boy's past – suspicions that tight lips and broken admissions from Narcissa enforced – that it had been less than coddling. Less than neutral, even. But the boy's past was not the least of it. His magic, for one, was a mystery, one which even hearing tails through Draco, Narcissa and half of the Hogwarts populace continued to make little sense of. There was his quietness that was broken only rarely by horrifyingly explosive expressions of pain, anger or sadness, only rarely gleaned but about as unnoticeable as an earthquake. Then there had been the death of Voldemort…

Still a mystery, that boy, even after two years of superficially knowing him. And now, such a small thing but equally unexpected, said boy was powering across the open grasses of the Manor backyard on the back of a sleek, black motorbike. Riding it with skill, too, as though he'd done so many times before. And enjoying it, from the smile upon his face. Severus remembered when the boy hadn't smiled. How much had changed.

"Really, a motorbike?"

Narcissa, reclining idly at his side on her deck chair and turning slowly through the pages of her book, glanced up. A smile spread across her face as she observed her young son and his lover. Draco was calling something out to Potter, yelling in an indiscernible cry that was broken by laughter and the gunning of the bike's motor. "Apparently Draco has wanted to get it for him for a while now."

"Why in Merlin's name would he want to do that?"

Shrugging, Narcissa turned towards him. The smile that graced her face was beautiful in its sincerity. Those first months of her recovery the previous year had seen so little of her blossoming radiance. She looked… well. Healthy. Though that was an understatement. The Malfoy widow radiated good health in a way that seemed to laugh in the face of her illness and recovery not eighteen months before. The sickly thinness had faded with time, a rich glow returning to her skin. Severus suspected that it had much to do with her return back to her psychological studies. Being idle didn't suit Narcissa, not in the aftermath of her husband's death. Severus did what he could to dampen the pain that still lingered, that would likely continue to linger unshakeably, but he knew he was not entirely successful. He cared for Narcissa, cared for her deeply and more than simply as a friend, or the friend of her late husband as he had been. It was with regret that he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to eradicate the dregs of insatiable longing she felt for the man passed.

Though the move to France seemed to be doing a wonderful job of it lessening it. Severus had to wonder at that, too. At first he had feared it as only selfishness on Potter's part that he refused so adamantly to return to Britain and so forced the two remaining Malfoys to trail after him like loyal hounds. It had sparked the previously banished resentment once more, though that had quickly died in the last two weeks. Draco seemed positively delighted to be in Paris, and not only because it meant he was closer to Harry. Almost too close, Severus considered; he was spending only weekends at the Manor and would fill the rest of his residency at Beauxbatons' sister town of Rivierie Ville. Apparently his new master, Calvinn Burisque, reportedly felt it a wonderful idea to be so close to such a delicious source of knowledge that was the academy. The Headmistress had been surprisingly receptive to Draco's intrusion. Severus suspected it to be at least in part due to the request of their own Runes teacher. Though he didn't know the woman personally, scholars of Ancient Runes seemed to have an odd connection with one another. They were like a race unto themselves.

Narcissa similarly flourished in their new residency. She had put in for a transfer to the Université d'Esprit Magique and been accepted with open arms. Really, France seemed to clutch at any proffered magical professionals that drifted their way. Students, too, if their eagerness to get their hands upon Potter and Longbottom was any indication. Severus could only be thankful that Draco hadn't decided to up and leave to follow his lover. Narcissa hadn't been in a state for moving herself at the time, and it would have torn her apart to be so distant from her son.

"Harry is a surprising young man. I never saw him as one to favour such a hobby, but evidently he seeks to astound me. Draco claims he's rather adept at flying, too."

"Is that so?" Severus raised an eyebrow. He'd never seen the boy fly. "I'm surprised that Draco hasn't coaxed him into spending half of his time in the air these holidays."

Narcissa laughed quietly, a sweet, serene laugh that did nothing to shake the impression of her stateliness. "I don't think Draco could get Harry to do anything he didn't want to." Her smile suggested she was nothing but amused at the prospect.

"Yes, Draco alluded to as much." Severus turned back to the pair, now even more distant from the pergola Narcissa and he shaded under. Potter appeared to be encouraging Draco into riding the bike and from Draco's body language it appeared he was eager yet appropriately wary of doing so. It didn't last long, however, as within moments the taller boy had swung a leg over the back of the seat, affixed a tight hold around Potter's waist, and the bike was racing with incredible speed once more. "An odd couple they make, the two of them. I could not have foreseen Draco to pursue such a relationship two years ago."

Cocking her head, Narcissa trained her own eyes upon the two boys. A thoughtful expression tightened her brow. "I couldn't agree more, though I must say it cheers me greatly to see him so happy. Although," she paused, closing the book in her lap, "it does worry me, at times."

Frowning himself, Severus shifted to gaze at her profile once more. "What could possibly worry you? I've hardly heard a negative word or brief argument exchanged between them since they announced their relationship."

It was true. Save for the witty banter and scolding attitude that Potter seemed to adopt at times around Draco when they considered themselves in relative privacy, he could not pinpoint a single bump in their relationship. It was almost eerily perfect.

"And that's what I'm worried about." Narcissa sighed, dropping her gaze to her hands folded in her lap. "I worry that this easiness will subside eventually, and will leave them both heartbroken. Surely such intensity cannot be maintained for so long without snapping. They spend as much time together as humanly possible, and yet even after so long with such heat they do not tire of one another's company. Not even for a moment."

Severus shifted uncomfortably. Narcissa frequently came to him to discuss her son – for who else could she talk to? – and though it secretly gladdened him, he couldn't help feeling that he was intruding upon foreign territory. "Perhaps not, but we can only wait and see. I do believe that there is more to their relationship than solely passion." And he did, if only because Draco had told him so. According to him, Potter was as much his best friend as his lover, even something of a brotherly figure of sorts, though Severus didn't want to pursue the implications of that particular suggestion too far.

"I can only agree with that," Narcissa nodded, a slight smile returning to her face. "It delights me to see my son find his soul mate so young, for that is surely what they are. And yet… it almost seems to perfect."

"Is there possibly such a thing as too perfect?"

A brief sadness flickered across Narcissa's eyes. "I am not sure that a relationship can survive purely upon positivity. There needs to be lows as well as highs, to reaffirm the strength of their bond. In every relationship." She dropped her gaze once more, and Severus could almost see her mind fade towards memories of Lucius.

Striving to dispel the shadowing scene, Severus cleared his throat. "I have to admit, I was surprised that Draco hasn't infuriated Potter into disgruntlement. If I recall, he was rather adept at eliciting such a response in his younger years." As Narcissa smiled into her lap, he felt his wariness ease. "But you believe it would be better that they fought?"

"I… don't believe that constant argument would be better. But it may be well for their relationship if they did, at least every so often. I know Draco cares dearly for Harry, but I fear he may overlook arising issues for fear of initiating an argument and risking it falling into disrepair." She raised one shoulder in a slight shrug. "So yes, perhaps just one fight every now and again."

Severus was not so sure. Personally, he thrived upon debate. It was one of the reasons he felt incapable of maintaining a cordial attitude towards his students, even those in younger years. N.E.W.T students took it with a grain of salt, and even replied in kind if they possessed the courage to face his wrath. Not that he was every truly wrathful, unless said students resorted to rudeness. Who didn't love a good argument?

But with Draco and Potter… He was sure he wasn't the only one who remembered their short-lived but explosive fight in the second half of Draco's sixth year. Another instance where Potter's carefully contained emotions had erupted in a torrential wave. Students' arguing, even brawling, was not an uncommon affair at Hogwarts. It was only natural that a horde of hormone-driven teens would have little control over their emotions. Draco and Potter had not even raised fists against one another, and had barely raised their voices in their brief argument. What had made the incident so memorable, however, was the shockwave that sprung from it.

A magical shockwave, of course, and though Severus was certain that most of the students had felt it, it was likely simply a sense of foreboding and wariness that arose from hearing the 'joined at the hip' pair of boys yelling at one another. For the teachers, and the more sensitive of the students, the moment Potter had raised his voice a static jolt of magical energy had zapped them all almost painfully. The ferocious whiplash of accidental magic was untethered and yet purposeless; instead of wreaking destruction, it simply manifested in a release of potent energy that left little lasting effect save that of being buffeted by a rather forceful wind.

It had raised more than a few eyebrows and with unspoken agreement the teachers present at the meal, those that had witnessed the cause of such an explosion, had thenceforth watched Potter carefully for signs of distress. It wouldn't do to have such magic flung about with purpose. He was surprisingly strong, the boy.

"I… am not entirely certain that such would be a good thing," Severus murmured. He felt Narcissa glance towards him questioningly but kept his eyes upon the motorbike that was drawing nearer at that same ridiculously dangerous speed. "Perhaps they've simply established a happy medium, tested their boundaries and know each other's limits. Constructive argument is beneficial, but to descend into mindless aggression is fruitless."

Narcissa was silent for a moment before answering. "Why do I get the impression you know something you are not telling me?"

"It is hardly consequential, Narcissa. Merely my personal opinion."

"Driven by fact, I've no doubt."

Severus felt a rare smile twitch his lips. The woman beside him was one of a very few that could elicit such a response. "Undoubtedly, of course."

Perhaps Narcissa would have replied, except that in that moment the motorbike skidded to a halt barely a dozen feet from the pergola. Severus was only mildly surprised to see Draco effectively clinging to Potter as the smaller boy directed the bike with smooth motions – although, 'clinging' may be too harsh a word. He hardly looked nervous for the speed they'd been travelling, even with the Pillowing Charms padded invisibly around them. Both boys were grinning widely, a flush to their cheeks and windswept hair that Severus was sure Draco would never have deemed appropriate to succumb to in the past. Pre-Potter period, he was coming to think of it as. Their enthusiasm was infectious, unfortunately, and despite himself Severus felt that contented twitch turn up the corners of his mouth once more.

Flinging themselves off the seat, Potter pausing only briefly to adjust the stand, Draco led them both from the glaring sun. They were both panting faintly from exertion and beaming with sheer youthful excitement. The expressions, Severus reflected idly, would have looked strange on both of their faces two years ago.

"That was truly fantastic," Draco breathed, sharing a smile with Potter. "And it's not even modified in the slightest from the Muggle bike."

Severus raised his eyebrows at that. So he has finally learned to appreciate the vast majority of the world's inhabitants and their non-Magical capabilities? There may be hope for him yet.

"Where did you develop such an interest in motorbikes, Harry?" Narcissa asked with genuine curiosity.

Potter shrugged, casting a strangely loving glance at the vehicle propped immobile behind him. "When I lived with Stephen, it sort of just happened. He worked with cars, so had a bit of a thing for them."

Narcissa's face darkened nearly imperceptibly. She hid it well, maintaining her apparent curiosity. "I never would have expected. I'm sure Draco would love to learn from you. You seemed to be enjoying yourself." She smiled at them both, though it was faintly strained.

Potter seemed to notice, even if Draco didn't. His face flashed briefly in concern before clearing. "It's wonderful; a perfect gift, though far too excessive for a birthday present." He turned an admonishing glance towards Draco that Severus didn't believe was truly genuine.

Draco apparently didn't either, or perhaps he was simply too used to being the focus of such a stare. He grinned widely and dropped a kiss onto Potter's cheek. "Says you, Mister I-Will-Organise-An-Extravagent-Birthday-Because-Of-Muggle-Tradition. You said yourself that eighteenth birthdays were the big ones to non-magic folk."

"Yes, and I very distinctly remember your condescension towards my thinking such."

"Condescension or not, love, I can hardly provide something of lesser grandeur than thou. Speaking of, I hope you've nowhere you wish to be tonight."

"What? Are we going somewhere?"

"We might just be."

"Draco, you really don't need to."

Severus shook his head as the two fell into familiar reprimanding banter, exchanging words like professional ping-pong players for their speed and focus solely upon one another. He caught a glimpse of Narcissa out of the corner of his eye and had to suppress a snort. The witch, for all she preached the benefits of an argument, was looking at the very insincere argument between her son and his lover with adoring fondness. To be expected, of course, Severus had come to realise over the past weeks. She doted on Potter nearly as much as Draco did. Well, maybe not quite as much.

With the faint disagreeability falling from the boy's exchange, it was perhaps expected that they fall into chaste kisses and handholding. Expected, but nonetheless aversive. Severus personally was not particularly fond of public displays of affection, and though Draco and Potter hardly made such 'public', they evidently felt that the presence of mother and godfather to one of them was private enough. It was faintly sickening to be an onlooker to their open adoration for one another – though Narcissa's smile seemed to grow only more indulging – and Severus hastily called a house elf for tea. In moments, a table was set with chairs, iced tea and shortbread.

Lazing around the wide, shaded area with chilled cups, the four chatted idly into the afternoon. Severus couldn't say that he was particularly fond of nor familiar with Potter, but such seemed to matter little. The boy was amicably talkative enough, rather more than he had been in his Hogwarts days, and even had he not been Draco and Narcissa made wonderful company. The sort of easy company that arose from a lifetime of familiarity. Draco had a sharp wit and blessedly never shied from a good debate, while Narcissa was simply intriguing for the perceptiveness and intelligence of her own mind. In short, such company could never be said to be boring.

"Has Burisque corresponded with you upon your timetable as of yet, Draco?" Severus queried after a brief lull in conversation.

Draco shrugged in reply. "Not as of yet, but I'm not particularly worried."

"You begin your studies in a week. Surely –"

"Severus, Burisque is infamous for his detached aloofness from society. Most apprenticeships begin in the second week of August, but I would hardly be surprised if his took longer to initiate. Of the three time's I've met him, I've had to remind him who I was twice."

Narcissa gasped in mock shock. "He forgot who you were? Oh, my dear, but the horror!"

"I know!" Draco replied indignantly, though the smile he bore suggested him less than taken with his mother's act. "Who could forget me?"

"You do leave a rather distinct impression," Potter murmured, sipping his tea.

"I do at that, don't I?" Draco raised his chin with that pompousness he'd been assuming since youth. It looked ridiculous at his age, and Severus was thankful that the boy had grown out of genuinely utilising the façade. "Still, he remembered the third time, and was rather enthusiastic as soon as I walked through the door."

"Enthusiastic?" Potter tilted his head, peering at Draco questioningly. "I was certain you were complaining just the other day about his complete lack of enthusiasm for anything save Ancient Runes."

"Yes, but you see, Harry, I'm a prodigy. Of course he's interested in me."

"Ah, I see. Of course. My mistake." Potter buried his smile in his tea once more. He wasn't the only one. Severus struggled to suppress the twitching of his own lips.

"He may be as dazed as a Lovegood, but even so he's remarkably talented." Draco dusted his fingers together, shedding the clinging crumbs onto his plate. "I have to agree. His book The Intricacies of Runic Reading was simply fascinating. He has an entirely different take upon interpreting ancient scripts and translating material. Apparently at present he's developing a method of translating the multiple extinct languages into symbolic depictions for magical translation."

"I thought you said that was impossible?" Potter said, leaning forward in his seat and propping his chin on one hand to blink at Draco curiously. And Draco beamed, evidently thriving in the chance to share his knowledge. Or perhaps it was simply at being the subject of his lover's undivided attention.

"It is, theoretically. Burisque is somewhat adept at circumventing the 'theoretical' and jumping straight into the 'practical'." Draco tapped Potter's hand pointedly. "Sort of like you, I suppose."

Potter shook his head insistently at that. "No, not like me at all. Everything I do is firmly grounded in the logical and realistic. Or, well," he paused, pondering thoughtfully. "At least as logical as magic is."

Severus shook his head, delicately placing another biscuit onto his plate as the two erupted into another round of good-natured argument. Narcissa may claim they never fought, but they were certainly ready to question one another's opinions readily enough. It was a wonder that they didn't argue with sincerity.

As the afternoon drifted towards evening, talk gradually died into comfortable silence. Somewhere along the way – Severus didn't really know when and was faintly horrified when he realised it had happened – Draco had tugged Potter into his chair, folding into one another so that they were entwined like a pair of climbing vines. Well, he tugged Potter more into his lap than 'shared the chair', really. If they hadn't looked simply so comfortable with one another, more than the comfort Severus found in having his own chair, and if Narcissa had not been positively on the verge of crooning at the sight of them, he would have made his disgust known. As it was, he subsided. Just this once.

It was not long after this that a fifth companion joined their tea party. Potter's little black cat appeared from nowhere as though Apparated, sauntering up the steps of the pergola and leapt with easy grace onto the table. Potter started forward from his seat on Draco's lap, murmuring profuse apologies to Narcissa as he tugged the creature into his own lap.

The cat was Potter's Familiar, unsurprisingly enough. Unsurprising, as Potter seemed to resemble something of a cat himself, and Severus had always found that witches and wizards tended towards resembling their animal companions. Or at least, he appeared somewhat cat-like when Severus had first beheld the boy, distant and selective of his interests and those he socialised with as he had been. Looking at the beast kneading blissfully into the leg of Potter's jeans, green eyes squinting in satisfaction, Severus could still see the resemblance but more for physicality that behaviour.

"Here, Harry," Narcissa, predictably, produced a treat from mid air and held it out to the boy. Narcissa, Severus had noticed, appeared as taken with the familiar as she was with the boy himself, and Severus was always astounded by her readiness to produce morsels to shower lovingly upon the fur ball.

"Thank you, Narcissa," Potter smiled, taking the treat and offering it her. The cat gobbled it down with evident relish. "She says she's very grateful, and – pardon me for her presumptuousness – but she said she'll spend at least ten minutes in your lap this evening after supper."

Narcissa simply laughed lightly under Harry's apologetic cringe. "Why thank you, young lady." She spoke towards the cat as though it were a person and the cat, spoilt beast that it was, licked its chops lazily in return. "I would be most honoured."

"What does she call Mother, anyway?" Draco murmured for Potter's ears only, though Narcissa perked up her head in interest.

"What?" Severus drawled, hiding his confusion under a bored drone. He knew that Potter had a Communication Collar that allowed him to converse with his Familiar on a more intelligible level than most were capable, but little else. Names? The creature designated names?

Potter cringed again slightly, though he retained his smile this time. "Lyssy tends to appoint her own names to those she's familiar with."

Severus raised an eyebrow dubiously. "Is that so? Such as?"

"Well," Potter glanced over his shoulder towards Draco, "she calls Draco my Swan –"

"It's because I'm so beautifully graceful and elegant, and am a master of flight," Draco smirked, dropping his chin onto Potter's shoulder.

"Actually, it's because you're big, have a long neck and hissed at her at every given opportunity for the first year that we were friends," Potter corrected.

Narcissa laughed once more at that and even Severus permitted himself a small smile. "And what honourable name has she afforded me?" She asked.

Potter tilted his head as he peered at the cat, fingers stroking idly at the bejewelled plait of collar around its neck. Severus studied the exchange closely; he'd heard of Communication Collars before – of course he had – but he'd never actually seen them in use before. They were frightfully expensive given that cyanogriffins were a protected species, but he shouldn't have been surprised that Draco would get one for his lover. He was fairly certain the Malfoy heir would have brought him the entirety of France had Potter asked for it.

Not that there was much really to watch in the exchange. Potter simply stared at the cat for a moment, eyes slightly glazed, and the little creature twitched its tail and tilted its head towards him as though answering without words. After a moment, both pairs of green eyes – eerily similar, the both of them – fastened on Narcissa. Potter smiled slightly, nodding as though in satisfaction, before those double eyes turned surprisingly towards Snape. Suddenly made aware of Severus' scrutiny, Potter flushed faintly and slumped back into Draco.

"Well?" Draco, never one much for patience, prompted the silent boy.

Potter fidgeted on his lap, flush fading if only slightly. "Narcissa?" He turned to the woman waiting expectantly. "She calls you the Queen."

Narcissa eyes widened, blinking rapidly in confusion. A moment later a smile curled her lips. "Is that so? And why is that?"

Severus thought it fairly self explanatory – one only had to look at the graceful, regal woman to know – but held his tongue. Well enough, for the answer was unexpected.

"It's because she sees you sort of as a mother figure, I suppose. I'm improvising the name 'queen' as it's the name for a mother cat; that's the image she gave me. I don't know if it was her mother or…"

Narcissa was blinking rapidly once more, but the smile shifted into a more tender expression. Severus wasn't sure he saw it as a compliment himself, but evidently Narcissa felt it to be as much. "Is that... oh. I wonder, why would she call me that?"

Potter stroked fondly on the fuzzy black head. "Because you care for her. And you pet her, and scratch her where she likes, but also scold her out of your aviary." He gave Narcissa an impish smile. "Though mostly I think it's because you feed her."

Narcissa's laugh was a tinkling flutter of amusement touched with genuine delight. "Truly? Then I shall take it as a compliment." She looked ecstatic with the prospect.

"What about Severus, then?" Draco asked, nodding his head towards him. Severus scowled at his godson coldly, and was not encouraged by the flush returning fully to Potter's cheeks.

"I'd rather not say."

"Oh, now you have to tell," Draco grinned manically, a predatory gleam to his eyes. Severus felt his lip curl but didn't object.

"Potter?"

Potter glanced up towards him. He fidgeted once more, resisting for a moment longer before slumping in defeat. "She, um… she calls you Batman."

There was silence for a moment. Then it shattered as Draco broke into peals of laughter.

His threw his head back and cackled uproariously, eyes closing and shoulder shaking in bodily merriment that nearly dislodged Potter from his lap. In moments he was gasping for breath, struggling to wheeze around his laughter. Severus raised an eyebrow slowly, intentionally, in what he knew to be the widely-acknowledged signal of 'Snape-Danger-Zone', but Draco hardly spared him a glance.

Potter, though flushing in mortification, couldn't supress the small smile from breaking out on his own face. He ducked his chin in an attempt to hide from Severus' sweeping gaze, but Severus resignedly accepted his amusement anyway. For even Narcissa was chortling quietly, a hand raised to her cover her mouth in an inadequate attempt to hide her good-humour.

Well, it's not all that bad, Severus considered. There were worse comparisons to be made than to Muggle superheroes. If anything Severus was more surprised that Draco, and even Narcissa, seemed familiar with the reference. He felt his offence dying slightly in the face of their collective amusement. It wasn't cruel or derogatory, and held just the hint of teasing to its richness.

Still, it was mollifying when Potter cast him an apologetic, almost subservient glance. "I apologise on Lyssy's behalf, Professor. She doesn't quite have those sort of inhibitions."

"Only to be expected," Severus replied, which drew an incredulous stare from Draco. Ignoring the boy, he fixed Potter with a thoughtful stare. "I am curious, though, Potter, as to your cat's namesake."

The boy cocked his head in surprised. "Lyssy?" He glanced down at the creature falling into a drowsy sleep, sprawled presumably across his lap. "It's not really a secret."

"Bollocks," Draco said, drawing an admonishing glance from Narcissa that he pointedly ignored. "I asked you years ago why you called her that and you never told me."

"No you didn't." Potter frowned over his shoulder at his boyfriend. "I would have just told you if you'd asked. It's a bit embarrassing, true, but not so much it's a secret."

"I did. I'm sure I did, because I always wondered."

"No, you didn't."

"I did!"

"Regardless," Narcissa broke in, sighing in exasperation. "I myself am curious. Harry?"

Shifting under the weight of all of their curious stares, Potter dropped his gaze to his hands stroking over the cat's back. He looked uncomfortable, but no longer bore the glowing cheeks of embarrassment he'd worn earlier. "It's a bit juvenile, but… well, actually her name is Lys. Lyssy is just a childish habit I got into, I suppose. Lys in French, it means…"

Severus felt his breath catch in his throat. An unexpected and completely uncharacteristic upwelling of emotion flooded him. But that means…

"Lily? You called your cat Lily?" Draco paused, frowning until his brow cleared in comprehension. "Wait, wasn't that your mother's name?"

Potter nodded. "I told you it was childish. When she first found me – I always felt like it was her that found me, not the other way around – I don't know, I always got the impression that she was looking out for me. It was always Lyssy that gave me comfort when I was upset…"

As he trailed off silence fell beneath the shade of the pergola. With an expression of sad tenderness, Draco slipped his arms around Potter's waist and hugged him even closer to himself, dropping his chin to press a kiss onto his shoulder. Potter gave him a gentle pat, a smile of reassurance. Narcissa's face was frozen in a mask that barely concealed her own sadness.

Severus barely saw any of it. He couldn't compute the information, and his mind had numbed to all thought. Lily. He named the cat, that little furry creature, after Lily because she reminded him… For the first time in years – years – Severus felt the pinpricks of tears in his eyes. He felt the urge to clear his throat itch in the back of his throat. The boy, Lily's boy, he felt the need to…

It was heartbreaking. And not only for the tide of memories, of Lily's smiles and her ferocious scolding, the high laughter of a child and the joy of companionship, that pooled forth.

He swam back from his melancholic musings slowly to the sound of Draco and Narcissa patching up the sudden sorrowful spell. Draco looked to be nearly set on crushing his lover in an embrace. "No wonder she loves you, really. I mean, you're fantastic with animals. Hagrid still pines for your absence from his classes, I'd bet."

"Hardly, Draco," Harry replied, but gave a gentle smile as recognition of his attempts to lighten the mood.

"It's true! You said Clytine likes you, too."

"Clytine likes the manual labour of over-eager student volunteers."

"I have no doubt you're rather proficient at Magical Creatures studies, Harry," Narcissa said with forced lightness. She smiled as the grateful glance Potter turned upon her too. "Have you considered undertaking the Animagus short-course?"

"What's this?" Severus broke in, struggling to shove his upwelling bout of melancholic nostalgia.

It was Potter, unexpectedly enough, that explained. "Beauxbatons offers a short-course for determining one's capacity for Animagus transformation and subsequent progression towards assumption for those competent."

"Really? They encourage Animagi?" Severus couldn't quite keep the surprise from his voice.

"Beauxbatons encourages just about every form of magic it can get its hands on," Draco replied. He shifted his hold on Potter once more, glancing up at him with chin still on shoulder. "I think you should do it. You know they say that sort of thing helps with studying magical – or even non-magical – creatures."

"Yes, but fundamentally it's impossible. I wouldn't be able to do it." Potter sighed, and Severus was given the impression that they'd trekked the conversation before.

"People do it all the time, Harry. It's not even hugely uncommon."

"That's not the point. How would someone realistically shapeshift into an animal? What about the conservation of mass, or alteration of one's internal anatomy, or –"

"Magic takes care of all of that."

The pair descended into another one of their arguments of sorts, Narcissa inputting her own opinion every now and again while Severus silently watched. Potter was a curiosity, and Severus felt himself even more curious about the boy after learning of his Familiar's namesake. That flicker of pain flashed through him again with the thought, accompanied by that which he hadn't foreseen. He felt… something towards the boy. Sympathy?

How unexpected.

When the shadows had lengthened towards night, their collective party finally rose to their feet to make their way back into the Manor inside. Lost in thought, Severus found himself unexpectedly falling into step beside Draco. Narcissa and Potter spoke quietly ahead, the Familiar perched on Potter's shoulder. Severus was able to ignore the pointed stare the younger man was giving him for the most of the short trip, but Draco evidently wasn't.

"You know, Severus," he said quietly, obviously for his ears alone. "You don't have to keep calling him Potter."

"What?" Severus turned towards him sceptically.

"Harry. He's Harry, not some meddlesome student. And besides," he paused and a slow smile spread across his face, "if you like him you shouldn't be so derogatory."

"Like him?"

Draco didn't reply, only widening his smile. He lengthened his stride and stepped up to Potter's side, looping his arm through his lover's as he inserted himself easily into the conversation Potter and Narcissa exchanged. Severus was left to ponder the boy's words as his affront gradually quelled.

Later that evening he caught Potter in the hallway as he was making his way up to the bedroom the two boys shared. Severus didn't know what made him do it; a spur of the moment decision, perhaps.

"Harry."

The boy – the young man - paused, one foot on the bottom step and turned to Severus. Wide eyes blinked at him from surprise behind his spectacles. "Sir?"

For a moment, Severus didn't know what to say. He struggled for a moment, ensuring his face was a blank, cool mask, before speaking the first words that came into his head. "I believe you would do well as a Magical Creatures carer. Draco is correct in saying that an Animagus form assists in such work."

Harry blinked again blankly, clearly surprised at Severus' approach. "I do believe him. I just have difficulties with the theoretical side of a transformation like that."

"Then manipulate the transformation to your ability," Severus suggested. "The true form of an Animagus is what suits the witch or wizard personally. If you are sceptical of the particular form, your inner animal will likely accommodate this. It has no impact on your innate ability."

Severus didn't know where the words were coming from. They were almost amicable. Almost, almost kindly. Harry seemed about as shocked as him. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again before replying. "I… I'm not sure if it would work but…" He paused, and a shy smile graced his lips. "Thank you, sir. For your suggestion. I appreciate it."

There was no time for a reply. Draco stepped into the hallway a moment later, falling to Harry's side. "You ready? We'll have to hurry to make the booking." He glanced towards Harry and received a nod in reply.

As they headed up the stairs to ready themselves for whatever Draco had planned, Draco cast a small smile over his shoulder that Severus returned with a scowl. Yet even so, as they disappeared into the upper stories of the manor, Severus felt an unexpected contentment settle within him.

How odd. Maybe Lily's son truly was something different after all.

A/N: Please, please, PLEASE review! I'd really love to hear from you. Thank you xx