Here it is – a new chapter, hot off the presses and in a much more timely fashion than the last time. And I know about Draco's characterization… I have trouble doing kids, but am doing the best I can and will hopefully improve a time goes on. Though thanks to all who pointed that out; if I ever revise this or write another story I'll watch out for that.
Enjoy.
Harry Potter began living in two worlds around the time he was six years old. The first was the world of daylight, where his cousin poked him and pushed him, where his uncle constantly yelled at him and where his aunt resented him and acted as though he was always underfoot. He was awkward and shabby at primary school and nobody really seemed interested in him. He wore Dudley's clothes and peered out through black rimmed glasses – basically, he was a recipe for mockery.
The second world was the world at night. Sometimes he didn't believe it was real, mostly because there was so little of it left. He got mysterious letters, but he could not keep them. All he could do was read them and remember them as best he could. He needed the paper to write replies on and even if he could have kept them his aunt would probably have found out if he had. It wasn't that big of a problem; he was used to not having anything of his own.
He didn't know how the bird entered, but every few days this new, strange, twilight existence was brought on by the appearance of the owl. The bird brought letters full of kind words and encouragement, written in a hand that was warm and pleasing, even if he couldn't understand all of the words. Mr. Padfoot, his secret, special friend, told him that he had to be quiet about it but that he was a special child and one day he would leave this awful place and be free of it. Mr. Padfoot told him that he was loved and that people cared about him. Mr. Padfoot said a great many things that made him feel warm and cozy inside and that, when recalled in the daylight hours, were enough to help him go forward.
The bird also brought gifts of a more tangible sort. Food came, wrapped up in cloth, just enough to eat in one sitting so that the owl could take back the wrappers with him. Harry was so hungry that he didn't even leave crumbs for his aunt to find. And so, afraid of what might happen, afraid that speaking of it would make his midnight world shatter and go away, Harry stumbled through his daylight hours, waiting for and being sustained by the magic that slipped into his life under the guide of darkness.
Draco had gone to sleep peacefully enough in his large bed housed in Malfoy Manner. He did, after all, need rest for the hard day of shopping ahead.
However, his night was suddenly and violently disturbed.
Narcissa heard him screaming and hurried into his room to see what the matter was. Dragon was licking Draco's faced as the boy sobbed and shivered beneath his covers. The silver-blond woman knelt by his bed, stroked his hair and wiped away his tears. She hugged him until he settled down and was quiet in her arms, still her little child.
"Shhhhh… shhhhh… its OK Drakkie, it's OK… everything's alright, Mummy's here… Did you have a nightmare, Drakkie?"
The boy looked at her with wide, bloodshot eyes and he trembled.
"Uh-hunh." He nodded.
She sat next to him on the bed then pulled him up onto her lap, and didn't even mind when Dragon came in closer.
"Do you want to tell Mummy what it was about?"
Draco gulped down several large breaths before starting.
"I was in this weird place. I don't know where it was. But there were all these doors and strange things. And I think there was a fight. People yelled. There was screaming. I couldn't move…" Tears slid down his cheeks. "And then there was this frame… and a curtain, but all raggedy… and everyone's screaming… and then… someone goes through it… and doesn't come out… I kept waiting and staring but the person never came back out…"
He broke down again and Narcissa hugged him and rubbed his back."
"It's alright, sweetie… it was a dream, only a dream… I've never even heard of such a place. Did you see who went through?"
Draco shook his head.
"It was dark an' blurry," he hiccupped. "But I just know, I just know, it was someone I love…"
She frowned.
"Nothing's happened. No one is hurt. I know it must have seemed very real to you, but everybody is safe. It wasn't real. It didn't happen. And it's not going to happen. Nobody's fighting.
It's OK."
Draco was weary from crying, though he couldn't say why the dream had been so distressing. It was nothing he could logically place, simply a wash of overwhelming emotion and worry that twisted up his insides. He leaned against his mother and she soothed him, whispering quiet reassurances until he fell asleep without even realizing it.
The following afternoon, Draco winced as his mother tried on her seventeenth pair of sandals – despite the fact that it was the middle of winter – and gave an approving smile before adding them to the growing stack of purchases.
'Sorry, dad,' he thought apologetically.
He hadn't known that the boutique was right next to the broom store. Really.
Though he'd woken up uneasy because of his nightmare, the holiday cheer that was evident in the air served to brighten him up. Coupled with the distractions of store displays, new toys everywhere and crowds rushing about, he'd managed to drive it to the back of his mind. By midday, it was only a faded, vague and moderately uncomfortable memory.
His mother went to the front of the store and paid for her purchases before arranging to have them delivered at the Manor so that she wouldn't have to carry them around all day. She breezed airily past the other patrons milling about the store and motioned for Draco to follow her.
"Come along," she said. "It's time we got you new dress robes."
Inwardly, Draco groaned. Dress robes translated to lots of standing still and being poked with pins and ending up in an outfit that just made him look silly. The day was already beginning to drag and as they left the store his eyes roamed to the brooms he'd seen earlier. Their polished handles gleamed richly in the store window and he itched to try and fly one.
After the torture session they next went to a place full of glass ornaments and statues. Draco had to walk carefully so as not to break anything and he began to grow impatient. The crowds were moderately annoying and anyway he missed Sirius. Unable to take the stifling atmosphere of the shop any longer he ducked out of the watchful sight of his mother and into the streets outside.
He didn't want to go too far – he was somewhat unfamiliar with Diagon Alley. It was a big place and one could easily get lost, particularly if one was not accustomed to living in the city. He enjoyed the air and paced a little bit, then began to hop on the cobble stones, jumping from one to another in a kind of improvised game. Then, without warning, he felt himself bump into another person.
"Oh! I'm sorry!" He said as he spun around and he noticed something on the ground. "Here let me get that…"
A hand the size of his own reached for the book at the same time and he looked up at the other child in surprise.
"Nott?"
The other boy looked at him.
"Draco?"
Draco grinned.
"Hey! Nice to see you." He looked down at the book beneath their hands. "The… Nutcracker. The Nutcracker? What's that?"
Nott flushed and grabbed the book out from under his hands.
"Nothing."
"Oh come on. I just want to know what it is. Looks cool. What's it about?"
"Nothing!"
"Aw, come on…" Draco wheedled. "Can I see it?"
"No!" Nott started to walk away.
Draco ran up to him and tugged on his robe.
"Come on, it's just a book! Why won't you just show me?"
"Because!"
"Because why?"
"Look, just forget you saw it."
"But I did!"
"No you didn't."
"Is there something bad it in?" Draco frowned.
"Not… really…"
Suddenly, realizing that Nott's father wasn't around, something clicked. Draco came closer and whispered knowingly.
"Nott… is that a muggle book? It is, isn't it? You slipped out into London to buy a muggle book."
Nott grew slightly pale.
"You won't tell my father will you?" He bit his lip. "He wouldn't like it…"
Draco shook his head.
"Nah. But you will let me see it sometime, right?"
"Perhaps."
"Aw, come on!"
"Well… alright," Nott conceded. "If you come over some time. And only if you promise to take care of it."
"Promise."
Nott gave him a faint smile.
"I need to find my father."
"OK. Bye!" He smiled.
"Until the next time, Draco." He slipped off into the crowd, the book safely hidden in the folds of his robe.
Draco headed back to the storefront and waited a few minutes longer until his mother came out, presumably from having made purchases for the female members of the family as well as any women within their social circle who were deemed worthy of a gift during the season. She floated aloofly past the others in the store and over to her son, leading him to the spot where Lucius had arranged to meet them.
At the sight of his father, Draco ran over to him. Lucius took him by the hand and smile.
"How was it?"
Draco frowned.
"Not so good." He sighed. "I forgot about the store by the Quidditch Place…"
Lucius sighed and closed his eyes.
"Just give me the bad news quickly."
"Nine pairs of boots, four pairs of dress shoes, seven pairs of sandals and a pair of slippers."
"That's all?"
"For that store."
"Oh, wonderful," Lucius rolled his eyes. Then he smiled. "Well, I suppose she couldn't have done too much damage to the family Gringotts vault, right son?"
Draco grinned at him. No matter how much she spent, it probably wouldn't make much of a dent... they were, after all, the Malfoys.
"Nope."
"So, have you made any purchases yet?"
"No…" Draco replied carefully.
"Ah." Lucius smiled knowingly. "But I'm guessing that you have something in mind."
"Maybe…"
"I see. And would this something happen to be inside of Quality Quidditch Supplies?"
"Maybe…"
At that point, Narcissa walked up and sighed.
"What are you promising him this time, Lucius?"
"Oh, nothing," he replied with a wink. "Just that I think an early Christmas present might be nice."
She smiled.
"You spoil the boy."
"So do you," he smirked back. "Now, shall we go get that broomstick?"
Draco smiled.
"How'd you know it was a broomstick? Maybe I wanted… gloves. Or a beater."
"Every boy wants a broomstick. I was your age once too, you know… no matter how long ago that may seem."
"Can I get the new Nimbus?"
"I don't see why not."
"Alright!" Draco grinned excitedly and nearly dislocated his father's arm, pulling him to the shop.
Later that evening, after they had eaten out, returned home and Draco had shown off by flying around for his parents, Lucius took him aside.
"Draco…"
"Yes?" Draco asked uneasily.
"Draco, I was wondering what you'd think if we left you alone for a while."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that… You see… Your mother and I were considering going on a second honeymoon. Well, we were planning on it. And we were wondering if you'd be OK with us leaving you for a while. About a month."
He tried not to smile to broadly.
"I guess that would be OK…"
"Dobby will be keeping an eye on you, of course, and Mr. Nott said that you could come stay at his house whenever you wanted. If you were worried about being alone or anything. The house elves would see to all the upkeep…"
Draco's mind was racing at a million miles a second. A month… a whole month…
"Naturally, your mother and I are concerned about the last time… the snake incident… but I've double checked everything and put a few more wards out against dangerous specimens so there should be no trouble…"
He might be able to see Luna, or sneak out Sirius or do something with Harry…
"And after all, Dobby will be watching and he knows to contact Mr. Nott. And you could visit Theodore… You'd probably have fun staying there a bit…"
The possibilities were limitless.
"So you don't mind?"
"Well… If you want to. I'll be OK."
Lucius smiled.
"You're growing up… Ah, it happens so quickly. We'll owl you from where we're staying, OK? And if anything goes wrong, we're leaving the Floo locations – just call and we can come home. Alright?"
Draco nodded.
"Sure."
"Excellent. So – what do you say to a midnight snack?"
"Sounds good!"
He ate a cupcake with milk while his father had a glass of wine, and he silently pondered how best to go about things.
A few days after his aunt and uncle entertained yet another pair of industry executives, Harry Potter got a letter of a sort he'd never gotten before. This one was written in a larger, more childish handwriting.
He examined it.
Hullo Harry. I am a friend of Mr. Padfoot's and I want to know you too. I am your age and like sports, animals and aven... adin... advin.. adventures. I have heard about you and think you're neat. I hope you'll write back to me too.
- Eltanin
Another boy might have thought the whole situation odd or unsettling. But for a boy cut off from human contact, who faced mockery daily, who had to work even while young and got no love from his 'family,' it was a wonderful thing to imagine having friends out in the dark, somewhere, who cared. He wasn't even suspicious; he simply felt glad that he wasn't alone.
It was lovely even if he never got to see them.
Though, he reflected as he handed Artemis back his response, he wished he could. To know them face it face…
It would almost be too much. And after all, as his aunt and uncle constantly reminded him, good things just didn't happen (or at any rate not often) to boys like him.
And a cookie to anyone who gets Draco's moniker without having to look it up. :) Note: Edited thanks to I-Confuse-Everyone pointing out that I mention Thanksgiving being a stupid American here and forgetting that it's not celebrated elsewhere. I'm usually good about that stuff... but it slipped by me this time. The problem, however, is now fixed.
Hope you enjoyed. As always – reviews, long and thoughtful if you would.