Extended Bio: For people who want a slightly longer description before deciding if they want to read. This is a story where Harry acts far more Slytherin than in the books and will have a lot of non-canon universe features about how Parseltongue and magic more generally works. If you have read any of murkybluematter's fanfiction 'The Rigel Black Chronicles' then you will probably notice that I have borrowed quite a lot of Harry's characterisation (including a hiding of gender at least temporarily) as well as some things about pure blood culture. This is NOT a story where Harry is Dark or where Voldemort is really good/Dumbledore is really evil. Lucius is also not Light, he was/is a Death Eater but his primary motivation (as I think it is in canon) is towards his family. This will hopefully also explain why I haven't gone down the route of making Lucius abusive to Draco. The same goes for Narcissa, though I don't think she was ever particularly loyal to Voldemort's cause. Severus will also play a big role in this, with lots of Severitus elements. As for plot, I'm not majorly focused on action on this so although things will happen I'm not necessarily going to introduce some big bad enemy (or the return of Voldemort) particularly quickly - there will be far more about the nature of magic, politics and of Harry finding her place in it all. Told through multiple perspectives, primarily Harry but also Draco, Lucius and Severus.

ALSO, there is some disparity between the story summary and what you read in the first chapter, but I promise that gets cleared up in the second one told from Harry's perspective so hang in there and it will all make sense :)

I hope that clears things up a bit, if you have any questions I would of course love comments. Enjoy reading!

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling

Chapter 1 - Draco Malfoy meets Harry Owens

-DMDMDM-

Draco Malfoy was bored. He'd already played on his broom, decided his other toys were too babyish to touch, had his mother dismiss the tutor after accusing him of expressing an unusual interest in a particular section of the Malfoy Library, and now his father had abandoned him to the care of a house elf after promising him he wouldn't get distracted on their 'educational journey through the countryside'. As he had been more and more over the past few years, Draco wondered if his life might be more interesting with a friend. Not that he didn't have friends, of course. He was heir Malfoy and was very important and well mannered and had all the best things so the playdates (though Draco would never call them something so juvenile) that he had with the other important and well mannered pureblood scions were always a success. But while he supposed Theo was okay (at least better than Crabbe and Goyle who couldn't do so much as hold a conversation), the boys much closer friendship with Blaise always left Draco feeling a little redundant - and as the Malfoy name superseded any of theirs he was hardly going to look kindly on that slight. Hogwarts, and the chance to spend every waking moment with others of his age, felt a very long way away. Maybe his father would buy him a pet to make up for it.

Satisfied for the moment, he turned his attention back to the task at hand - evading Motty. She was, at Draco's instruction, 50 paces back, clutching the bag of ingredients he had been identifying and collecting as part of a project for uncle Severus, but was staring intently at him as if he might disappear any second. This was likely because he had done exactly that on their last 3 outings together, but being followed by a creature with explicit instructions not to let him have any fun (or 'any brash, Gryffindorish impulses likely to imperil his life' as were the actual orders) who would no doubt report everything he did back to his parents the second he arrived home was neither pleasant nor the sort of thing he would allow for very long. With any luck Motty would be so afraid of receiving punishment for losing him that she would not even mention his temporary absence from her eye-line. Turning as if to examine a tree for moss, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out the little twist of paper that contained within it a preserved puffer fish spine that, when crushed, would cause a minor explosion that could easily distract Motty for long enough that he could hide himself in the woodland. Grabbing a fallen piece of bark he pressed the spine into a groove and jogged over to the elf who had started approaching him with the bag outstretched. As he lowered the bark he applied just enough pressure to start the reaction and then pulled a passable expression of surprise as the bag jolted violently and he exclaimed "The bark must have reacted with one of those berries I found earlier". The elf looked down in dismay at the ruined ingredients and by the time she had formulated a response Draco was well hidden behind a heavy patch of brambles.

Chortling at the increasingly distant sound of Motty's curses, Draco contemplated that it was really his father's fault for the ruined ingredients. Had he stayed as promised he could have warned Draco of any potentially volatile reactions, and now he had proved himself incapable his father would have to supervise another trip in time for Draco's lesson with his Godfather on Thursday. A smug smile settled on Draco's face as he thought of the genius of his trick and he was so lost in his schemes that he didn't even notice the adder until heard a loud hiss and looked down to see his foot dangerously close to the now rearing creature. Shrieking in panic he scrambled back, all his focus on the beast who looked ready to descend on him until another hiss caught both of their attention. A scrawny boy who looked to be a few inches shorter than Draco was standing nearby, hissing at the snake who remained frozen for a moment before looking back to Draco, flicking it's tongue and then slithering away into the underbrush.

Draco remained in an undignified heap on the floor and watched as the boys eyes widened in horror and he turned to leave. Jumping up he grabbed an overlong shirtsleeve and clung on, urgency filling his voice.

"You can speak to snakes." The boy stiffened, then relaxed and turned to face Draco who noted the intent look in his almost eerily bright green eyes even as he responded with so much nonchalance that Draco almost found himself doubting what he had just witnessed.

"People can't speak to snakes. I scared it off was all, you should really be more careful if you're gonna wander through the woods, you probably scared him."

"You're worried for the snake?!" Draco quipped, a blush rising and humiliation colouring his tone at the boys insult. Of course he was careful, the snake was just hard to see.

"Suppose not, just that that was an adder and they only attack when threatened. Good you're not bitten, I should probably go now." The boy made to pull his sleeve from Draco's grasp but Draco clung tight.

"No, not yet. What I mean, what I meant to say is you did talk to that snake. I saw you. You're a Parselmouth!" Awe filled Draco at those final words, remembering stories of the Slytherin founder and his descendants, of the reverent tones of the adults at the dinner parties where the Dark Lord was discussed in vague terms and hushed voices. He didn't know how many Parselmouths there were but a gift like that was definitely rare and he was not about to let this boy disappear so soon after finding him. Shock flickered through those green eyes for a second before an effected confusion clouded them. The boy tilted his head a little to the side.

"A what?" He asked, careful and quiet with a perfect upward inflection to indicate his question.

"Don't play dumb with me. You don't have to, I know all about it. I'm a wizard too so you don't need to convince me of anything".

This time the boy's repeated question seemed far more genuine. Either he was a brilliant actor, though why he would chose to act now was a mystery to Draco, or... no. No muggleborn could have inherited Slytherin's most hallowed gift. But if he was a pureblood people would probably know about him by now, Draco likely would have met him. He could, Draco supposed, be a half-blood or born from squibs or something and just hadn't been told. It felt far fetched but everything about this felt far fetched.

"You know, a wizard. Haven't your parents told you?"

"No I don't know, and wizards don't exist. I really do have to go though-"

"No you don't. Not if you really don't know. Don't you want to know about magic?"

"I-" The boy started, then stopped himself by biting down on his lip with what looked like rather unnecessary force. He started to shake his head but his eyes lingered on Draco's own, staring as if he could divine some inner knowledge or truth from them. They stayed like that, both suspended in realisation of the other, then his carefully bred manners took over and he stepped back, dropping the sleeve in order to extend an arm in offer of a handshake.

"I was abrupt before, I'm Draco Malfoy." The boy waited long enough to answer Draco began to feel anger at being shunned, but then a thin hand reached out and grasped it.

"And I'm Harry Owens."

Where the conversation would have gone from there Draco did not get the chance to find out, for the moment their hands parted the tiny figure of his elf came through the trees crying "Master Draco! Master Draco! You do not leave my side, you do not run! Is masters orders and you is bad to disobey, we is going home right-"

The elf stopped, stunned for a moment as she noted the presence of another person in the clearing, a person in muggle clothing with an expression of surprise so obvious it was almost comical.

"It's okay Motty," Draco interjected in an effort to avoid the house elf's panic, "he's a wizard, just doesn't know much. This is my house elf, I suppose muggles don't have them" he finished, turning to Harry who looked to still be processing the bizarre series of events.

"Oh," sighed the elf in relief, "That is okay then, but Motty is taking Master Draco home right now unless you is wanting me to be telling Master and Mistress Malfoy about what you is been doing!"

"I'll come, Motty, just give me a moment. You should come too, Harry. I can introduce you to my father."

Though still dazed, Harry turned his attention from the elf back to Draco. "No, Draco, thanks but I really will be missed. But..." He trailed off, seemingly unsure of how to continue.

"We need to talk though." Malfoy finished, correctly guessing what Harry implied. "Can you be back here tomorrow, Four O'Clock?"

"I- yea, I suppose I can. Um, thanks for-"

"Yea, thanks" Draco interjected, not wanting Harry to reveal to Motty anything about the snake attack lest she forget her promise and tell on him to his parents. "I'll go now but make sure you're back here or I'll be very cross when we meet again at school."

"School?"

"Hogwarts, when we're 11. Bye Harry. Oh and wear something nicer tomorrow, wizards do not care to look like homeless muggles." And with one final look at the smaller boy Draco turned to his elf and they apparated home, Draco already planning exactly how he was going to tell the story to his father.

Landing in the grounds, Draco quickly pulled himself from the elf's grasp and ran to the front room where his mother always spent the afternoons that weren't occupied by some social function or something equally tedious.

"Hello darling," She called "You look rather flushed. Did you get any good samples?"

"Yes, I mean no they exploded. Is father coming for dinner tonight?" His mother looked mildly shocked at news of the explosion and Draco's frantic delivery of it all, but she wisely chose not to distract from her son's urgent seeming question.

"He mentioned he might, Dragon, though I don't know-"

"Could you ask him?"

"Don't be rude, Draco, interruptions are impertinent."

"Sorry, but could you ask him, please? I wish to dine with both of you tonight" Draco adopted the posher affectation he largely reserved for formal company for the final line as his mother always seemed to find humour in it and thus give into to his commands more easily.

"I can ask, Draco, was it something urgent?"

"Not urgent, but I really want to tell you both." During the conversation Draco had considered just telling his mother now just to get it off his chest, but he rarely had something interesting enough to say to catch his father's undivided attention for long and he was not about to waste this opportunity.

"Okay then," His mother relented "But go and change into your evening wear, you are quite caked in mud and look to unkempt for a stable let alone our dining hall."

Draco looked down at himself, embarrassed, then nodded and fled to his room. As he washed and changed he thought through how he would deliver his information, and what elements of his own doings he would leave out of the final narrative. By the time 7:00 came he felt quite prepared and walked into the dining hall eyes alight with anticipation.

His mother was already sat, and though it took a minute his father did come through, much to Draco's relief. The food arrived as soon as they were all sat and Draco smiled at the Roast Chicken he was always partial to. Not wanting to appear uncouth by demonstrating the same eagerness he had for his mother, Draco patiently took a mouthful and waited for his father to begin the conversation.

Draco didn't notice the looks of amusement his parents shared over Draco's head at their son's rather futile attempt at subtlety, but even if he had been more successful he gave himself away the second his father started talking and Draco hastily set his fork onto his plate.

"I trust you had a pleasant excursion even given my absence, son."

"I did sir."

"Your mother tells me it was regretfully unproductive, something about an explosion?"

"Oh, yes. That. Just volatile ingredients." Draco was not happy to be sidetracked and offered no further information on the matter.

"I gather that is not why you demanded us both be present for this meal."

"No father, it happened after."

"Is this to do with the boy you met? Motty told me you had met one." His mother questioned, and Draco glowered at her for learning some part of the story before he had the chance to tell it.

"A boy?" His father's tone was sharp. "Wizard or muggle, I have no desire to deal with those fools at the ministry if he saw Motty and runs home to tell of it."

"Wizard, definitely. He did magic, he just didn't know that's what it was I don't think."

"A muggleborn?" Lucius looked down at his son darkly "you know not to associate with them Draco. What did you tell him of our world, and why would you feel the need to tell us of it so urgently?"

"I, um." This was not going well at all, Draco bemoaned to himself. "I told him a bit. Not much though - really!" He cried at his fathers raised eyebrow. "And, well, I don't think he was a mud- a muggleborn though. I don't think he could have been."

"If the child didn't know of magic Dragon, at this age to tell them of us is much the same as to tell a muggle. They're just not able to understand and it can cause us all sorts of problems if they learn some things without access to the whole." His mother's words were soothing, but Draco still felt as if they were missing the point and that he was somehow in trouble even without mentioning the running away and the not noticing a snake.

"You say he couldn't have been. Why" His father cut in, and Draco felt a spark of hope.

"Well, father, didn't you say that there are some types of magic, gifts and things, that have to be inherited through magical lines?"

Mild interest tempering some of the previous disapproval Lucius inclined his head. "That is indeed the case, though some would disagree so it would be unwise to rest an argument on it if you are doing so to those less informed then are present."

"Yes, I won't sir."

"What is this gift then? A Metamorphmagus? I know that runs in the Black line but if you are excited over the potential of some long lost cousin I would not get your hopes up. Even if he were it would undoubtably be a renounced branch."

"No, it wasn't that. It was, well, he was talking to a snake."

The room seemed to have frozen, and Draco felt he could have severed the tension with a wand tip. His parent's gaze met and this time Draco didn't miss the intrigue and doubt they communicated. Eventually his mother spoke.

"That would certainly be an interesting talent to find. You will have never heard it before though, Draco, so can you be certain?"

"Yes! I mean, yes mother. There was a snake near me and he came and hissed at it and listened then it went away. He said I'd scared it."

"He told you he had spoken to it?" His fathers voice held a command that Draco immediately feared and couldn't wait to practice until he could emulate it perfectly.

"Well, no. He denied it and just said I'd probably scared it. But you would deny it, wouldn't you? If you really had it I mean. And it wasn't, it didn't sound like just any old hiss. It felt real."

Draco's father was studying him acutely, so it was his mother who spoke next. "And this boy, did he have a name?"

"Harry, Harry Owens I think."

"And did he tell you anything else? How you might contact him perhaps, if he didn't know of magic he would no doubt be very interested in you."

"I don't know where he lives or anything, but we're meeting in the same place tomorrow. If you'll let me, that is."

His father rose, dinner quite forgotten. "I think, Draco, that I might join you for that meeting. No doubt the child will have many questions and I am likely in a better position to answer. In the meantime I think I will prepare my pensieve. Kindly join me in my study after after you have eaten, Draco."

Draco nodded, thinking of the jumpy boy insisting magic wasn't real and feeling uncertain about how well received his father's presence tomorrow would be. Neither he nor his mother spoke for the remainder of the meal, and Draco quickly hurried for the study the moment dessert was finished.

His father was waiting at his desk when Draco entered, a white marble chalice with strange inscriptions Draco supposed were runes standing in the centre of the fine dark wood room.

"Have you previously heard of a pensieve, Draco?"

"No sir."

"No matter, you would have had no cause until now. It is a device with which one can examine memories. Once withdrawn and placed in the bowl it and the surrounding can be viewed, no doubt you can guess why I would wish to observe this particular memory?"

"You don't trust me, sir" Draco said with a hint of bitterness. Lucius grimaced.

"I trust you told me all you were able. You have not, however, heard Parselmouth before. I have and so only I will be able to best divine whether that was indeed what you saw. I find it unlikely it was otherwise but to meet this boy only to discover he is a muggle would be rather unsatisfactory for all involved."

Draco nodded, and willingly let his father guide him through focussing his mind before pointing his wand at Draco's temple and pulling a long silvery strand out before depositing it gently in the liquid of the bowl. His father then submerged himself and Draco waited anxiously, idly scanning the bookcase in an effort to distract himself from what he hoped was his father witnessing Parseltongue. When Lucius eventually emerged he gave a short, curt nod and dismissed Draco from the room with the instruction to return the next day so they could journey out together.

Draco went to bed that night full of a nervous anticipation he had previously only experienced before birthdays and Yule. His parents were interested in Harry, so his father would probably invite him back with them tomorrow. At the very least he would make sure to find out where the boy lived. He had not interacted with him long enough to know much about Harry's character, and besides he looked younger than Draco by at least a year, but he was new and exciting and Draco had found him and was not about to let him go.