I hold no rights within or to the Harry Potter franchise, copyright, trademark, or characters. This is for fun, not profit.

The day after Boxing Day Harry flooed to Daphne Greengrass' family home. Luckily there was someone standing close enough to cushion his fall. Harry peeled himself off of the ivory robes just in time to see Lucius Malfoy whirl around.

"Eh heh. Sorry."

"Mr. Potter. My son informs me that you are the youngest seeker in a century. Where is your fabled grace and balance?"

"The floo system hates me!"

It seemed like a much better argument in his head.

Lucius Malfoy actually smirked at him in a mostly nice way!

"Ignore my husband, Harry. He's perturbed by your lack of response to our invitation."

Harry stared at his cousin's thin smile. "What invitation?"

Next to her Lucius Malfoy looked anything but concerned about a lost social engagement.

"The one Draco issued!" Narcissa said, irritation lining her voice.

"I know you mentioned one when we went robe shopping" Harry said carefully. Lucius' eyebrows arched as he glanced at his wife. "But Draco never actually gave me one. I assumed that you'd changed your mind."

Harry saw a glimpse of Narcissa Malfoy compressing her lips into a tight, displeased line before Daphne's voice interrupted.

"Harry!" The blond girl threw her arms around Harry's neck as she squealed in his ear. "I'm so glad that you made it!"

Harry winced. "Hey Daphne. If you let go, I'll give you your gift."

She pulled back, her loose hair making a golden halo around her head. That golden halo conveniently hid her smirk and wink from the Malfoy adults.

"You're so sweet!" she cooed as Harry deposited a box in her hands. It was as small as the ones that he had presented his other hosts. This one had red paper with little daffodils blooming on it. Daphne's face softened as she gently touched a flower. "My favorite."

Harry grinned. "I know. You said so during your introduction in Herbology."

"I have Herbology with Ravenclaw."

"And I know a Ravenclaw in your class."

Her face lit with sudden understanding. "Hamilton Brown. That's why you picked him for your quidditch team."

"Mostly because he's going to be a great chaser. He'll make his house team next year if he tries out."

Daphne swatted at Harry but her smile was dazzling. She turned back to the Malfoys.

"May I borrow Harry?"

"Of course, dear" Mrs. Malfoy demurred.

But her eyes were sharp and she looked very much as if she had something further to say to Harry. Daphne was oblivious as she absently tucked her arm into Harry's exactly the same way that she had at the Sorting Feast. Her eyes were firmly fixed on the gift in her other hand. Unlike Cedric or Dagwood Larkins, she cradled it like she already knew how delicate his gift actually was. Lucius' gaze sharpened as Harry moved his hands and arms accommodatingly. Harry just grinned and inclined his head to Mr. Malfoy as Daphne led him away.

His grin died an abrupt and horrible death as he was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass.

"Mummy, Daddy, this is Harry."

Daphne's emphasis on his name worried Harry. He liked her well enough and if he was actually eleven or even thirteen, it would be quite exciting. But right at that moment Harry was acutely aware that he was mostly eighteen, Daphne was currently eleven, and that he had no desire to be some sort of pervert. He knew for a fact that she would grow up to be drop dead gorgeous but right now she was a sweet, if somewhat naughty, little girl.

Daphne's party was dull and yet somehow interesting. Everyone was just as prim, proper and boring. Daphne kept shooting Harry considering looks that made him uncomfortable and nervous. There were still a few faces and wands that he recognized but most of the people at Daphne's party were unfamiliar to Harry. The Greengrasses seemed to mingle mostly with the moderate Slytherins who abstained from joining either side in Harry's original timeline. It was hard to be properly wary when every girl fifth year and under insisted on dancing with him. It was sort of bewildering since Harry distinctly remembered those etiquette lessons, which Draco and now Theodore and Daphne in his place kept dragging him to, seemed to imply that guys were supposed to ask girls to dance. Draco, despite being locked in the same dozen rooms as Harry, still managed to maintain his snotty brat persona. He was still mad about… whatever he was mad about.

When Harry got back to Gryffindor Tower, Ron was sleeping on the couch in the darkened common room again. Fred and George were playing exploding snap with Percy.

"All right there Harry?" Fred asked.

Harry nodded. "Just tired. I have one more party. Next year, I'm definitely leaving town at Christmas."

Percy snorted. The twins tiredly smiled and nodded.

The next night Harry dressed in his last set of dress robes, pocketed his last present, and went to Professor McGonagall's office. She was waiting for him along with Professors Dumbledore and Snape. The corners of her mouth were tight and Professor Dumbledore seemed unusually serious.

"You do not have to attend Mr. LeStrange's celebration, Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked at his Head of House. "I told Jeremiah LeStrange that I would."

"She's trying to tell you that you may not attend Mr. LeStrange's gathering, you moronic child."

For Professor Snape, that was positively kind. Harry glared anyway for the sheer principle of the matter. He made sure to include the Gryffindor professors though.

"I'll go if I want to. No one has the right to tell me what to do."

"Mr. Potter" Professor Dumbledore began. "We are only considering your best interests and –"

"On what basis?"

"Pardon?"

"On what basis? I'm a legal and magical adult. You were never my legal guardian." Harry flicked his wand in a silent Summoning charm. When the tartan tin slapped into his hand, Harry put his wand away. "I think that I am in the best position to determine what is in my best interests. And right now, I've determined that to involve a friendship with Jeremiah LeStrange."

As Harry helped himself to a pinch of floo powder he eyed Professor Snape's robes. They were as dark and severe as ever but the fabric seemed heavier and more expensive. He was probably going to the LeStrange New Year's party too then.

"Under the authority of being in loco parentis, I could forbid you to go" Professor Dumbledore said mildly as he peered at Harry over his half-moon spectacles.

It sent an uncomfortable squirming feeling through Harry's stomach. When he had fully been eleven that look had been terrifying. It was the look that he had always imagined preceded expulsion. Now it was merely uncomfortable with the feeling of memories past.

Harry concentrated on holding the tin out to Professor Snape as an excuse to avoid the adults' eyes.

"I'm sure you would have a wonderful time explaining to my solicitor why the Larkinses, Greengrasses, and Diggorys were acceptable to visit but the LeStranges were not."

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall gasped. "Surely you would not take such drastic measures!"

Harrry did meet her eyes. She was the only non-legimens in the room after all.

"I find it irritating that someone who thought it appropriate to allow my relatives to beat me, starve me, and lock me in a boot cupboard for ten years would also believe that he has any right to tell me what to do." As Professor McGonagall paled, Harry added with deliberate carelessness "Also Jeremiah LeStrange has yet to actually, actively steal from me either. Professor Dumbledore has abused both my trust and respect. Jeremiah LeStrange has not."

And with that parting shot, Harry slid the tartan tin onto the professor's desk then moved to toss the floo powder into the fireplace. The last thing Harry saw as he spun away in the green flames was Professor McGonagall's pale, strained expression and her oddly haunted eyes.

The next thing Harry saw was white, streaked with black and the feeling of cool stone pressed against one cheek. LeStrange's laughter echoed in his ears.

"I hate floo travel" Harry grumbled as he levered himself upright.

LeStrange solicitously grabbed an arm to help haul him upright.

"You're late." LeStrange frowned at Harry. "You weren't late to anyone else's place."

Harry stared at the older boy. "Does it matter? I didn't mean to be. The Headmaster was being… odd."

Jeremiah LeStrange frowned. "Odd? You mean he didn't want you to come."

Harry shrugged. "What does it matter? I like you and trust you and respect you. I came to your party like I said that I would."

Jeremiah LeStrange was staring at Harry oddly. He nodded but his expression was distant as if he was thinking of something else entirely.

"We're still good right?" Harry asked anxiously, cursing Professor Dumbledore for threatening his Slytherin friendships so soon.

Jeremiah seemed to shake off his odd look and seemed to come back from wherever his thoughts had gone.

"Yeah. 'Course we are. I just… no one goes against Professor Dumbledore."

"I do" Harry said firmly. "He has no right to decide who my friends'll be."

Jeremiah stared at Harry for a long beat then nodded. "Welcome to my family home."

Harry blinked at the sudden change in topic but shrugged and fished his gift out. As he handed it to Jeremiah, he said "Thank you for inviting me."

This package, which was identical to the previous gifts in size and shape, was wrapped in red paper with little golden snitches zooming through doorways that appeared out of nowhere and either opened or closed. Harry supposed that the wrapping paper's enchanter was playing on Janus and the beginning of the New Year while playing to the quidditch mania that threaded throughout Wizarding society. Still, it matched Harry's views on his possible friendship with LeStrange perfectly.

This party was… different from the other parties. For one thing he could not help but notice that Professor Snape was the only half-blood in attendance. For another, Harry always seemed to have Theodore Nott or Jeremiah LeStrange or even Dagwood Larkins at his elbow. Harry was consciously aware that he was never entirely out of Professor Snape's or Mrs. Malfoy's views. Honestly, all of the babysitting was more comforting than anything else. After all he distinctly remembered hexing or cursing most of the party's invitees at one point or other during the war. In a place and time when Ron, Hermione, or the DA were not available to watch his back, it was nice to know that at least five people were worried about him. Even if the five people watching over him were the last five people he would have ever imagined caring for his welfare.

With Nott, Larkins, or LeStrange in attendance, Harry begged off of dancing. Instead he focused on sounding vaguely sane and rational and like a far better prospect than serving a mad snake-man. That last goal might have been a bit unachievable but Harry found that he could not quite shake the memory of Malfoy crying in a loo in sixth year. If Malfoy had someone, anyone, to go to for help that year would he have fixed that bloody vanishing cabinet? Harry liked to think the answer was 'No.' If even one person here remembered him as someone that they could come to for help, then this evening might be worth the trouble that it was certain to garner with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall.

Being eleven, however, was something of a handicap on that goal.

When it was time to go, Professor Snape laid a hand on Harry's shoulder as Harry waited his turn with Jeremiah LeStrange and the Larkins family for his turn at the only fireplace that was attached to the floo network.

"Have you said your goodbyes?"

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

That was all of the warning he had before he felt the singularly unpleasant sensation of being sucked through a straw backwards. With a crack of sound he reappeared with Professor Snape just outside of Hogsmeade. Immediately wary, Harry shrugged Professor Snape's hand off and scrambled away. He lit his wand tip with a silent spell even as he pointed at the man who may or may not have been the potions professor.

Holding the professor at wandpoint, Harry asked "Who nearly fed you to a werewolf your sixth year?"

The professor's long, sallow face turned chalky. His lips peeled back from his teeth in a silent snarl.

"Potter! Cease this foolishness at once."

A wave of his hand sent a magical tug at Harry's wand. Harry, who had been subjected to such tactics before, held onto his wand grimly.

"Professor, I've just been apparated away from a gathering of people who did not like me very much by someone who may or may not be my Potions Master."

One eyebrow rose. "If you knew that you would be keeping such company, why would you bother to attend?"

"I'm afraid that I must insist that you answer the question first, Professor. I'd hate to tell my secrets to an enemy."

The professor's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed.

"Sirius Black" he spat at last.

Harry nodded and immediately lowered his wand. He did not put the light out however.

"I like Jeremiah LeStrange. I like a lot of the Slytherins at school. I think that they should have options."

It was the most honest, straightforward thing Harry had ever said to Professor Snape in either timeline.

Harry watched as the Professor's irritation disappeared behind a blank mask. It was nice to surprise Snape in some way that didn't leave them both screaming and raging.

"Options, Potter?"

Harry nodded. "I'm not blind. Even Professor Dumbledore actively dislikes Slytherin House. People keep going on and on about how most of the Death Eaters were Slytherins but, well, they didn't really have a choice did they? Not about what side they were going to join, I mean. Voldemort was the only one who would take them."

"I fail to see what any of that conjecture has to do with you" Snape said as he began to slowly walk towards the castle. Harry fell into step with him, easily keeping up despite his shorter legs. Professor Snape must have been adjusting his gait.

"There's another war coming, isn't there Professor?"

Professor Snape actually startled. "Explain yourself!"

"Professor Quirrell has been possessed by Voldemort. That's what's under his turban. That's why he tried to kill me at the quidditch match. And that's why he let the troll into the castle. He wants whatever is in the third floor corridor to bring his master back to life properly. If Voldemort gets another body then there will be another war."

"Potter –"

"I haven't told anyone! Well, I told Ron, Hermione and Neville that you weren't trying to kill me and that you're not after whatever is in the third floor corridor. They don't believe me though. They're even being extra nice to Quirrelmort. It's a bit hard to get them to see that the world isn't divided up into nice people and Death Eaters."

'But it's a hard lesson' Harry acknowledged to himself. 'It took me most of my time at Hogwarts to realize that.'

"You believe that I am not a Death Eater out to kill you?"

There was the strangest inflection in Professor Snape's tone. It was one that Harry had never heard before in either lifetime. But then he had never had even a semi-civil conversation with the potions master before.

"I think that you're the only one who really wants to see me grow up."

Professor Snape actually grimaced at that. Being seen as the sole protector of James Potter's son must have been galling to him.

"Professor Dumbledore cares for all of his students."

Bitterness laced his words and detracted from the sincerity the man meant to convey.

Harry understood Professor Snape's sentiments perfectly.

"Except for the Slytherins. Or anyone who isn't part of what he sees as the greater good."

There was a suspiciously long beat where Professor Snape did not argue with Harry's words. They walked in silence for a long while.

"So you are recruiting."

"I'm giving people options" Harry said firmly. "Jeremiah LeStrange and Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy shouldn't have to get ugly tattoos or swear allegiance to a madman or suffer crucio because Dumbledore and Voldemort are angry about things that have nothing to do with them. Not really. And the Wizarding World seems to be blaming every Slytherin ever for their madness and selfishness. If I don't believe that Jeremiah LeStrange doesn't have to be Bellatrix or Rastaban or Rodolphus Lestrange, then no one else will. He'll have to be a Death Eater. And I really do like LeStrange too much to just let him ruin his life."

Professor Snape made a harsh, ugly sound. After a moment, Harry realized that it was supposed to be a laugh.

"Why are you telling me this, Potter?"

"Because you asked." Harry hesitated a moment then, marshalling his Gryffindor bravery, added "And because you deserve options too, Professor."

Professor Snape's head snapped up. He stared at Harry with wide black eyes for a moment before his eyes narrowed again. Then he looked away.

The rest of the walk up to the castle was long and silent.

Narcissa Malfoy had been angry and hurt over her young cousin's rejection… until it turned out not to be his manners at fault but rather Draco's which was completely unacceptable. Days after the fact, however, she still failed to understand exactly what Draco thought he was doing by keeping Harry's invitation back. Harry was his cousin! His friend! Surely Draco had not been worried about being rejected? Harry had accepted party invitations from everyone that he was on even moderately good terms with. He had even attended the Diggorys' party. The Diggorys! Amos Diggory was the most boring, pretentious fool she had been forced to regularly interact with in years. And he had even gone so far as to set foot into the LeStranges' Manor! And he had been cheerful about it! She would not have attended but for her sister's marriage into the family.

So when she finally asked Draco over breakfast why he had not invited his cousin to their party, she had been quite shocked when Draco literally had a fit.

"Why is it always about Harry?" he raged, his face red and his cheeks wet with his tears. "Everybody always worries about Harry!"

"Should I be worried about you?" Narcissa asked.

"That's not the point!" Draco shouted. "Everybody constantly hangs all over Harry bloody Potter! Everybody likes him! He's friends with everybody! He'd even be friends with Pansy and Blaise if they let him! But he's supposed to be my friend!"

'Oh! Poor dear. Harry is popular and my Darling is jealous! And not, apparently, of Harry's influence – as any good Slytherin would be – but rather of having to share Harry himself!'

The violence of his emotions was oddly reminiscent of Bellatrix's jealousy over Andromeda.

Narcissa suppressed a shiver.

"Has he in any way implied he was not your friend, too, Draco?"

"That's not the point!" Draco growled. "Friendship with Potter is so common! I'm a Malfoy and we're not common! So I thought I'd let Potter be my best friend but he's already best friends with a Weasley, a mudblood, and the most disastrous boy in our year! I'm not competing with them to be best friends with Harry Potter!"

'Oh no. No no no.'

"What have you decided then, Draco?" Narcissa asked carefully.

"He's going to be my rival" Draco said, his nose titled up at a most endearing angle. It did nothing for the lump of dread in Narcissa's stomach. "We are no longer friends."

"Does Harry know yet?"

"No. That impossible moron insists on hanging about as if we're still intimate acquaintances."

Narcissa swayed with relief. Harry, at least, had not given up yet on Draco's friendship. How could she possibly influence this turn of events?

Draco's eyes drifted to his watch then widened with alarm.

"It's late!" He said, rising. "And I haven't written in my journal yet."

Narcissa covered her surprise with a languorous blink of her eyelids.

"Your journal? I was not aware that you kept one."

"I started last Christmas." Draco said before he leaned down to kiss Narcissa' cheek. His expression darkened. "I'll need someone to confide in since Potter and I aren't friends anymore."

Narcissa felt the oddest prickling of foreboding shiver up her spine as Draco pushed his scowl away to smile at her tenderly.

"Good night, Mother."

"Good night, my Darling."

As soon as Draco was out of the room, Narcissa rose to go in search of her husband. But when she confided her disquiet to Lucius, her husband merely smiled indulgently.

"Boys will be boys. Let them work it out on their own, Narcissa." He kissed the corner of her frowning mouth. "You cannot force Draco to be friends with the Potter boy."

"But Lucius, something is not right!"

"Our son is nearly a teenager. I imagine that things will be not right for some time to come."

But Narcissa was fairly certain that Draco's impending teenage years had very little to do with whatever was not right.

'I'll simply have to be vigilant' she thought resolutely even as she let her body relax against Lucius' own. 'Then I will be properly poised to sort it out – whatever it is.'