Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Repeat: I do NOT own Harry Potter. Nor do I own any songs that may or may not end up in this fic.
A/N: No songs in this one either, because they aren't at Hogwarts. Well, some of them are at Hogwarts, but we're not talking to those bastards.
Song: Times Like These - Foo Fighters - Album: One By One
Chapter 12 - It's Times Like These...
"So," Harry began, gesturing wildly around the living room, "this is about it. Want a tour?"
He asked, but he didn't really plan on giving Draco a choice.
Draco shrugged non-commitedly. "If you must."
Harry took this as a 'yes, Harry, of course I would love a tour of your very wonderful home, thank you for inviting me to stay with you', because he knew that Draco would never actually say those words even if he felt them.
"Wonderful," Harry said brightly, taking Draco by the arm and leading him about the house. "Kitchen, basement, bathroom number one, my room, bathroom number two, Sirius' old room, bathroom number four, six other random rooms, bathroom number five, drawing room - wait a damn moment!"
He'd known something was strange as soon as he'd walked in. For one thing, he hadn't left the house as clean as it currently was. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, but Kreacher had died months ago, so it should've been all dusty and such.
His first thought was that blasted Mundungus Fletcher, back to steal more of the Black family heirlooms. "That rat bastard!" he swore, letting Draco go and scowling around the drawing room, just waiting for 'Dung to step out looking all fakely apologetic and saying some random bullshit that Harry would never believe.
"Is something the matter?" Draco asked, sounding slightly amused.
"Someone's been in here!" Harry told him furiously, grabbing Draco one more and stomping out of the room with his knew house guest in tow. "Where are you, you rat bastard!" He yelled, loud enough for all of England to hear him. "If I ever find you, Mundungus Fletcher, I swear to fucking Merlin that you'll regret it!"
"Is master wanting some tea?" A small, squeaky voice asked from somewhere near the door to the kitchen.
Harry paused, a bit confused because that didn't sound like Draco at all. Or 'Dung ,for that matter. Cautiously, Harry turned around...and blinked in surprise.
There was a house elf in Grimmauld Place. A live one, more importantly. "Er...who are you?" He asked as politely as he could through the copious amounts of confusion taking over his brain.
"Binky, Sir," the house-elf said, bowing so lowly that his long nose touched the ground. The movement reminded Harry fondly of Dobby, who'd done the exact same thing upon meeting. "I's is Kreacher's daughter, sir."
Kreachers...daughter? It took a minute for Binky's words to sink and, and when they did Harry's nose scrunched up in disgust. "You mean Kreacher...reproduced?"
"Even house-elves can have fun, Potter," Draco told him with a well placed smirk that made Harry blanch in disgust.
"Ew!"
"Since Kreacher has passed," Binky continued as if Harry hadn't spoken, "it is Binky's job to take Kreachers place as head elf at the Noble House of Black!"
Harry watched as Draco's eyes widened considerably. "Black? You're living in the Black house?"
"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug. "I inherited it."
Draco was beginning to look a bit faint. "How? It should've been Narcissa to get the house...she's been going on and on for years about how someone stole her property..."
"Sirius Black was my godfather," Harry reminded him with a shoulder bump. "Which you already knew. And when he...er...passed...he put it in his will that I get the house and his money. I didn't really want either, of course, because I've already got money, and this house isn't exactly full of fond memories...but it seemed disrespectful not do what he wanted for me."
Harry didn't think Draco was paying attention to him much. The blonde was too busy staring around the house in thinly-veiled shock.
"I don't need a house-elf, Binky," Harry continued, looking at the house-elf and trying to be as nice as possible about it. "I mean, it's not like I don't appreciate the offer, but-"
"Yous most certainly needs a house-elf, Sir," Binky told him, shaking her head and making her large ears flap about in the process. "Binky has been here only for two weeks, and she is seeing more filth than Binky has ever seen before! Mr. Harry Potter, sir, needs a house-elf, and Binky is taking the job!"
"I like her," Draco said with a fond grin for Binky. "Only known you for two minutes, and already she's bossing you around like a mother!"
Binky only stared at them. "Would Master and his guest like tea?"
"I would love some tea, Binky, thank you," Draco told her graciously, and she nodded and bounced off to the kitchen.
"I'll never get any peace," Harry sighed, taking a seat on top of a large wooden dresser.
Draco scoffed. "Of course not - You're Harry Potter."
Harry nodded glumly.
"So," Draco continued after a moment of silence, "where am I sleeping?"
Harry bit his lip. To be honest, he hadn't really thought about that. They'd been sleeping in the same bed so much lately, that he'd just assumed that that would continue once they'd gotten to Grimmauld place. But of course Draco would want his own room.
"Take your pick," Harry finally said, causing Draco to smile at him. That brightened Harry's mood considerably - Draco didn't give genuine smiles very often.
"What are you up to?" Draco asked a few hours later. After tea, he'd excused himself and had stayed holed up in the room next to Harry's, while Harry sat in the living room and watched the telly.
"Watching a Ninja Warrior marathon," he said, looking up at Draco with a grin and patting the empty seat on the couch next to him.
"A what?" Draco asked, moving to sit beside Harry. "What in Merlin's name is that?" He continued almost immediately, pointing to the television.
And so Harry explained all about electricity, and T.V.'s, and Ninja Warrior, and an hour later Draco was beginning to understand.
"But why?" Draco asked once again, confusion written on his face. This was one of the difficult points in the explanation. Harry couldn't really explain why a bunch of people got together and went through a crazy obstacle course for absolutely nothing more than a title that few people would ever actually use.
"Just watch it," Harry said for the hundredth time, gesturing wildly to the screen. "You'll understand!"
"Why can't we watch something else?" Draco whined (because Harry had been stupid enough to explain channels to him). The answer to his question was simple: because Harry enjoyed watching a bunch of sexy half-naked men run around getting all sweaty. "Because I like this show," Harry replied after a moment of silence. "And you'd probably like it too if you could get your head out of your ass and just watch it."
Draco huffed and crossed his arms, but didn't outwardly respond.
Half an hour later, his head was cocked to the side, his eyes were wide, and every time someone fell off the course, he would yell 'no!' as if they could hear his disappointment.
Harry felt very accomplished with himself.
Draco was startled awake by the sound of someone tapping on glass. Well, more accurately something tapping on glass. He sighed sleepily, ignored the crick in his neck and the sound of cheers on the fellytision.
It was, upon further inspection, a great screech owl tapping on the window, a letter tied 'round it's leg.
Draco sighed again and slowly sat up, glancing at where Harry was continuing to watch the fellytision with a dumb expression on his face.
"Morning," Harry said in a far away voice, not looking at him. On the glass screen, one of the fit men was waving a wet shirt about his head and grinning broadly. Draco rolled his eyes.
The taps became louder.
"What time is it?" Draco asked as he got to his feet, raising his arms around his head and yawning silently.
"Almost time for dinner," Harry told him, finally glancing up from the glass screen when the fit man disappeared to give him a smile. "You were snoring," he added, causing Draco to blush.
He was Draco Malfoy, and Malfoy's didn't snore. Even disowned ones.
"Nuh-uh."
"Yeah-huh," Harry argued, causing Draco to bite back a smile as he opened the window and untied the letter from the owl's leg.
"Nuh-uh."
"Yeah-huh!"
"Malfoy's don't snore," Draco told him as he slowly unraveled the letter and allowed the owl to nip fondly on his finger.
"Well, Malfoy or not, you snored," Harry said smugly, causing Draco to glance up from the parchment and glare at him.
"I don't believe you."
Harry replied with something, but Draco didn't hear it. There was an odd buzzing sound in his ears, and he had a feeling that it had to do with the signature at the bottom of the parchment.
Narcissa D. Malfoy
Draco jumped when he felt something touch his arm. He looked up, and saw Harry a lot closer than he'd been seconds before. "Are you alright, Draco?"
How had he gotten so close so fast? And why did he have to look all fucking concerned?
"I'm fine," Draco snapped, being more rude than he intended, and took a quick step away. "I just..."
"Is someone threatening you by mail?" Harry asked, sounding more upset than concerned right then. "Tell me who it is, I'll give them a what-for-"
"It's Narcissa," Draco cut him off, his tone devoid of any emotion that usually reared up when he spoke her name. It was still strange not calling her 'mother'.
Harry, without a shadow of a doubt, looked surprised. And Draco couldn't blame him. He'd only gotten one letter from her since he'd been disowned, and it had been as vague and un-familial as humanly possible. "What does it say?" Harry finally asked, causing Draco to scoff.
"Well I haven't read it yet, have I!"
"Well read it then!" Harry replied, bumping Draco's shoulder lightly with his.
Draco, while loathe to take orders from anyone, obediently read the letter. In fact, he did one better; he read it out loud.
My dearest Draco,
I hope this letter finds you well. I know you must be surprised to hear from me, but I couldn't stand to keep away from you any longer.
I want you to know that I love you, and miss you everyday, and that I'm sorry it's come to this. Even though your father and I have officially disowned you, you are still our son in our hearts, as we hope that we are still your mother and father.
The reason for this letter is not so that I can reassure you of our devotion, but rather for something more secret. I was hoping that you might find time to visit the Manor during your Christmas holidays. Of course, I understand if you are too busy, or if you simply don't want to. I won't blame you for being angry with us, Draco, me especially.
If you can - and would like to - make it for Christmas, please send your answer back with Pollox (he's our new owl, and was bought specifically to send correspond with you) and I'll wait for your arrival.
I love you so very much, Draco,
Narcissa D. Malfoy
"So?" Harry asked as soon as Draco finished the letter. "What are you going to do?"
This hadn't been what Draco had expected. Not from his mother, and not from Harry either. A 'Happy Christmas' card from Narcissa would have made sense, because she was right - disowned or not, he was still her son by birth, and she was still his mother. And Harry...he'd expected Harry to throw a fit and yell about how horrible they'd been to Draco, and how Draco deserved better, and what not, in a normal Harry Potter fashion.
None of which he'd said. As of yet.
He was going to spend Christmas with his mother, that much was obvious. He had to, after that letter, if he wanted any sort of relationship with his parents at all.
But he really didn't want to. It would be awkward, and painful, and they'd spend the entire day talking about nothing all the while wondering if it was the last time that they'd ever see each other.
There was a way that it might not be awkward, though. Or painful. In fact...it might just make it the most interesting Christmas.
"I want to go," Draco told him after a moment of silent contemplation. "But on one condition."
Harry almost looked amused. "And what's that?"
"You're coming with me."
Any amusement Harry may have had seemed to fly out the window at Draco's words. In fact, he could actually see it melt off Harry's face.
"You want me to spend Christmas with you and your mother? Are you mad?"
"I don't want to go alone," Draco admitted, "and your the only person I trust enough not to screw everything up." Which wasn't actually true. Draco knew that if asked, Pansy would agree, Blaise would agree, Theo would agree...and he could trust all of them not to mess things up royally for him.
But Harry would make it interesting. And Draco kind of wanted to get him back for making him stay at Harry's home for two weeks.
Harry seemed to be scrutinizing Draco's every slight movement as though waiting for him to break out in a grin and go 'ha! Just fuckin' with you!'
Which was tempting.
"If I have to," Harry finally said with a sigh, "But only if you go to the Weasley's with me for Christmas, too."
He did drive a hard bargain.
"But my mother wanted me to spend Christmas with her."
"Why don't you spend Christmas Eve with her?" Harry proposed. "I'm sure she'll understand."
Draco considered his proposal very seriously. On the one hand, he really didn't want to spend Christmas with the Weasleys. But they seemed to be the only family Harry had, and despite what people might say about him, Draco wasn't completely heartless. And if Draco sent back a letter saying he could only spend Christmas Eve with his mother, then he wouldn't sound too eager, which was a plus.
"Deal," Draco agreed, holding out his hand. Harry shook it firmly.
"Dinner is served, Masters," Binky spoke up from behind them, and that was that.
Draco scribbled a quick note on a new piece of parchment and sent it off, and then got to spend a lovely dinner with the object of his affections.
Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, spending a couple of weeks with Harry. Alone.
"Do I look okay?" Harry asked Draco, feeling more self-conscious than he ever had before.
"Quite handsome," Draco promised. Harry couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but decided to go with it anyways. If Draco really thought he looked bad, then he would've made Harry change.
He assumed.
After all, they were going to see Draco's mother. Surely he would want Harry to make a good impression on her.
"If only we could tame that hair of yours," Draco added, sending Harry's black locks a distasteful look.
Harry only shrugged unapologetically. "Un-tamable, I'm afraid."
Draco sighed forlornly. "Ah, well. Nothing for it then - are you ready?"
"No," Harry admitted, even as he led the way from his bedroom and into the hall. "You can do side-along apparation, right?" Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry took that as a yes.
Within five minutes they'd landed with a soft 'pop' in front of the Malfoy Manor's front gate, and Harry attempted to swallow down his nerves.
Admittedly it might've had something to do with the fact that the last time Harry had been to Malfoy Manor, loads of awful stuff had happened. But mostly he was just scared of Draco's mother.
She was a scary lady.
"Remember to be polite," Draco told him as they began the long trek up to the manor. "I know it's difficult for you, but try anyways. And try not to bring up any awkward topics, because this is going to be awkward enough as it is. And -"
"Draco," Harry cut him off, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Stop worrying. Everything will be fine."
It was nice to know that Draco was even more nervous than he was. Empowering, even.
"Of course it will," Draco said confidently. Still, when their fingers brushed, Harry could feel Draco's hands shaking. Without even thinking, Harry grabbed Draco's hand with his, and the blonde seemed to loosen his tense posture slightly.
They stayed that way, side by side, hand in hand, until they made it to the front door.
A/N: The next chapter is still going to be the holidays, so don't be surprised when their not singing again. Anyways, review if you'd like, and if for some reason you've never heard 'times like these' then you should definitely check it out. But seriously, if you haven't, there's something wrong with your musical palate.