The drawing room at Malfoy Manor was empty when Harry arrived. 'Nitta?' he said tentatively, but the house-elf didn't appear. I probably shouldn't send Draco my Patronus, thought Harry, and he walked towards the door instead.
His footsteps echoed through the empty room, which he'd only seen once before at night. Not my favourite memory, he thought, entering the corridor and wondering which way to turn.
'Potter,' said Draco, rounding a corner. 'That was fast. I assumed you'd spend at least half an hour with your fan club, but the wards told me otherwise.'
Harry didn't bother correcting Draco about his name. 'No, I never stay long after the broadcast. And I thought it would be bad form to keep you waiting.'
'It would have been, but I have low expectations, given your upbringing.'
'Thanks a lot.'
'It's not your fault,' said Draco, leading him down the corridor. 'Voldemort killed your parents, and Dumbledore stuck you with those Muggles. And then there were the years of Weasley exposure—it's a miracle you aren't a complete boor.'
'I'm going to take that as something resembling a compliment.'
'As you like.'
They traversed a wide gallery Harry had never seen, and Draco opened the door to a surprisingly intimate room. 'Harry, you're early,' said Pansy, who was draped across a velvet chaise longue. 'I was hoping for at least one more glass of wine before Draco kicked us out.'
'No one's stopping you,' said Blaise, sitting across from her and drinking what looked like whisky.
'That's true,' she said, sitting up and pouring another glass. 'Catherine, will you have another?'
'I mustn't,' said Catherine White. 'My mother has eagle eyes, and she'll notice if I'm tipsy.' Draco sat next to her and whispered in her ear, and she said, 'Naughty boy! I should leave right now!'
'Darling, no,' he said, their faces only inches apart. 'I wasn't expecting Potter until eight at least, and I shan't let you go before then.' He inhaled deeply, smelling her hair, and a sigh escaped him.
'Harry, they've been like this all night,' said Pansy. 'Can't you do something?'
'Like what?'
'Try a Disarming Charm,' said Blaise. 'Or Light magic, perhaps.'
'No, not Light magic!' said Pansy. 'They'd probably start shagging before our very eyes.'
'Not before marriage,' said Blaise. 'Catherine's not that kind of witch. And Harry, welcome! Brilliant show, as always.'
'Cheers. How are you?'
'Splendid, but we're overdue for a visit. Can I lure you to Pratt's this week?'
'Yes,' said Harry, and they made plans for the next night. 'How are you, Pansy?' He didn't address Draco and Catherine, who were deep in hushed conversation.
'I'm fine, but show me that magazine,' she said, taking it from him. He moved to sit next to Blaise, but she said, 'Not so fast, Potter-Black. Plant your taut Seeker's body right here.'
He glanced desperately at Blaise, who laughed. 'Do as the witch says.'
Harry reluctantly sat next to her. 'Don't worry,' she said. 'I'm not trying to ruin your vow. I'm just planting the seed for later—your party perhaps.'
'You'll have to compete with a French model,' said Blaise.
'She'll be gone by then,' said Pansy dismissively. 'And I can show you how discretion works, since it's clearly a foreign concept to you. Admittedly you won't get access to the main event, but trust me, you'll scarcely miss it.'
In an attempt to change the topic, he said, 'Aren't you going to look at the magazine?'
She unrolled it and examined the cover. 'I say! They certainly clean up well! Blaise, look.'
Blaise took the magazine from Pansy and studied the cover. 'Harry, why do you think it's so arousing to see a pair of known tarts dressed modestly? Cross-dressed, rather.'
'Good question,' said Harry. 'Maybe because you know those clothes are coming off?'
'Yes, the implied striptease. When they were scantily clad for all to see, there was less to anticipate. They were a feast for the eyes, make no mistake, but this is a feast for the imagination.'
Pansy took the magazine back from Blaise and found the article about the two witches. 'Oh my!' she exclaimed. 'Harry, have you seen this?'
'No, I only flipped through it briefly.'
He inhaled sharply when he saw the other photos of them. Merlin, they're sexy, he thought. The menswear theme continued, although they wore significantly less of it—in one photo, Jocelyn stroked the handle of a Silver Arrow broomstick, and Maryann looked hungrily at it and slid her tongue along her top front teeth. She is a biter, he recalled. Although not there, thank Merlin.
'Will they be at your party?' asked Blaise, never taking his eyes from the photos.
'I hadn't thought to invite them,' he admitted. 'And I don't fancy another go myself.'
Blaise frowned. 'Weren't they competent? Or did they try to coast on looks?'
'They were more than competent, but I need an emotional connection.'
'Thank Salazar I'm not similarly afflicted,' said Blaise. 'Invite them to your party, will you?'
'Er, all right.' He belatedly remembered to look away. 'By the way, I should call Kreacher and have you sign the contract.'
'A contract!' exclaimed Pansy. 'What kind of contract?'
'Secrecy. There's a top-secret aspect to the party, and Hermione's helping me enforce it magically.'
'You're not going to curse someone with spots, are you?'
'No, nothing like that. And the penalty only lasts a week. But trust me, you don't want it.'
'You're a Light wizard,' she scoffed. 'I'm sure it's nothing.'
'Hermione was involved,' said Harry. 'She's mellowed a bit since school, but not much.'
'Fair enough. Let's see this contract.'
Kreacher, he called silently.
Yes, Master!
Would you be so kind as to bring me the contract?
No, Master.
Harry frowned. I'm sorry, what?
No, Master. Kreacher cannot Apparate to Malfoy Manor.
'Bugger!' said Harry aloud. 'Malfoy, can you let Kreacher through?'
Draco was clearly displeased to be interrupted from Catherine. 'Do I look like a goblin?'
'Er, no. What's your point?'
'Only Gringotts can change the wards. It was a safety measure.'
Puzzled, Harry addressed Kreacher again. How did you deliver my letter to Narcissa on Sunday if you can't get through the wards?
He felt a wave of smugness from the elf. Kreacher uses his bond with daughter Nitta to send letters across the Malfoy wards.
Well done! replied Harry silently. Could you send me the contract right now?
Yes, Master! With pleasure!
Less than a minute later, Nitta appeared with the contract and a quill. 'For Mr Harry Potter,' she said with a curtsy.
'Potter-Black,' said Blaise and Pansy in unison.
'Thank you, Nitta,' said Harry. He was about to say something about Lodie and Plouche, but she disappeared with a pop.
Pansy eagerly set Wandlore aside. 'Where do I sign?'
'All of you are invited,' said Harry. 'Assuming you're willing to sign the contract.'
Draco looked questioningly at Catherine, who nodded. 'I go where she goes,' he declared.
After everyone signed, Harry said, 'It's a drag party. Not my idea—my teammates suggested it.'
Pansy's eyes widened. 'Your perfectly brilliant teammates! I assume this was before you knew about the Wandlore cover.'
'Yes, that was a complete coincidence.'
'There's no such thing as coincidence,' said Blaise. 'Harry has tapped into a zeitgeist. In fact, he probably started it by reclaiming male plumage.'
Harry noticed that everyone looked lost. 'What's a zeitgeist?' he asked.
'It's the defining spirit of an era. The obsession with blood purity was a zeitgeist, for example.'
'For you lot, maybe, but not for me,' said Harry.
'Yes, and your ascendance is why blood purity has fallen out of vogue,' said Blaise. 'Admittedly it's not going anywhere, but it's no longer the defining spirit as it was a few years ago.'
'And cross-dressing is?' said Harry, sceptical.
'Not specifically cross-dressing, but challenging old norms. Look at Wandlore—we wouldn't have had a wizarding lad mag even a year ago, but Harry's deviation from expectations has upended the old order.'
Draco looked at Wandlore with contempt. 'So this sort of magazine is a Muggle phenomenon?'
'It is,' said Blaise. 'And it might shock you to know I occasionally buy them. But from what I can tell, Wandlore, like Harry, celebrates wizarding traditions.'
'Thank you!' said Harry. 'I argued with Romulus Wynter about this last month. His definition of wizarding culture is extremely narrow and excludes all Muggle influence, while I said magic itself is what defines wizarding culture. But in his mind, the fact that I play Quidditch and wear robes is negated by the fact that I appreciate Muggle books and music.'
'And shagged a Muggle,' said Pansy.
'Does that make me less magical?'
'No, but maybe your children,' said Draco.
Harry rolled his eyes. 'Don't tell me you believe that.'
'I don't. But you'll never convince all wizards to follow your lead. My ancestors have lived a certain way for centuries, and I'm not going to leave that off just because of a "zeitgeist."'
'And why should you?' said Catherine. 'It's incumbent upon the old families to preserve these traditions. And yes, I like Muggle music as well, but it would be tragic if traditional wizarding culture were lost entirely.'
Harry was impressed by Catherine's ability to play both sides. 'I agree,' said Harry. 'I love wizarding culture, and I'm happy for families like the Malfoys to perpetuate it, as long as you allow the rest of us to live as we do.'
'Excuse me,' said Pansy, tapping her fingers. 'Why are we talking about this when there's a top-secret drag party to discuss?'
Catherine turned to Draco and said, 'I'm not sure how I'll feel if you're prettier than I am.'
'Not possible,' said Draco. 'No one's prettier than you are.'
'This again,' said Pansy, annoyed. 'What are you wearing, Harry?'
'I honestly haven't given it much thought,' he said, which was partly true. 'My teammate Gemma offered to help me find a dress at a Muggle charity shop.'
Pansy was aghast. 'A charity shop! You mean a dress someone already wore?'
'Yes. I can't exactly go to my tailor and ask for a dress.'
'No, but at least you could buy something new. Really, you're head of a noble house! And what about shoes? Charity shops don't carry shoes, do they?'
'I'm fairly certain they do, but you raise a good point. A charity shop won't have much to choose from, particularly in my size.'
She looked at Harry's feet. 'No, you want options. Will you wear high heels?'
'They'd make your arse stick out,' said Blaise. 'I say yes.'
'He'll need padding,' said Pansy. 'Or maybe your house-elf can round you out.'
'No padding,' insisted Harry. 'I'm not trying to pass for female.'
'That's fortunate—you'd be hideous,' said Draco. 'Mixed parentage, you know.'
'Harry, don't take the bait,' said Blaise. 'Your mum was so hot she kept Snape on a lead his entire life.'
'And Blaise's an expert on hot mums,' said Pansy. 'But what should I wear to the party? I had robes all picked out, but now I can't wear them.'
Blaise sat up excitedly. 'Pansy, I just had a stroke of genius. Muggle menswear!'
'Muggle menswear?' she exclaimed, horrified. 'The very idea!'
''No, trust me on this,' said Blaise. 'I once saw a photograph of the Muggle actress Marlene Dietrich wearing a tuxedo, which are a bit like dress robes only with a short jacket. She wore a top hat and everything ... it looked smashing.'
'You'd shock everyone,' said Harry. 'I say do it.'
'I'll consider it. But what about you, Blaise? You'd be gorgeous as a witch.'
'So I've been told. And Mother has heaps of clothes she never wears anymore. Every time she marries, she insists her husband buy her an entirely new wardrobe, since she can't possibly wear clothes she wore with another wizard.'
'Catherine, do you want to borrow some of my robes?' said Draco. 'One of the elves could transfigure them for you.'
'Where would this happen?' she asked. 'Wouldn't I have to go up to your bedroom?'
Draco raised his eyebrows. 'I suppose you would.'
'I don't know,' she said saucily. 'What if it came out? I'd be compromised.'
'I'd have to propose, of course. Only a cad would ruin your reputation like that,' he said, with a glance at Harry.
A faint blush stole over Catherine's cheeks. 'I could never marry a cad,' she murmured.
Draco looked desperate to start snogging her then and there. 'Should we have a look now?' he asked.
'No,' she said, pulling away. 'It's eight o'clock and you have a prior engagement.'
'She's right,' said Pansy. 'Go see if Harry needs to borrow any robes.'
'Come, Pansy,' said Blaise, rising from the sofa. 'We should see ourselves out.'
'Harry, I'm thrilled you saw past our differences and invited me to your party,' said Pansy, preparing to leave. 'If you can forgive Cassia Dexter, surely you can forgive me.'
'Strictly speaking, you never apologised,' said Harry. 'But that's all right.'
'You're an angel,' she said. 'I won't hug you, since I'd hate to make you break your vow.'
She and Blaise left, and Draco took Catherine's arm to lead her out. 'Good night, Harry,' she said. 'Don't be a bad influence on Draco tonight.'
What could I possibly do? he wondered. 'It was nice seeing you, and I'm glad you can come to the party.'
Harry waited alone in the room for several minutes until Draco returned. Closing the door behind him, he immediately poured himself some Firewhisky. 'Potter, will you have some?'
'No, thanks. I'll do better with wine,' he said, indicating the glass he'd been nursing since his arrival.
'Unacceptable,' said Draco, passing him a glass of whisky. 'I just sent Catherine away so we can blame Voldemort, and I want to hear the unvarnished version.'
'I didn't realise I had a varnished version,' said Harry, accepting the glass.
'Any version that doesn't involve blasting a hole in the wall is the varnished one.'
'I'm certain your mother wouldn't like that.'
Draco shrugged. 'One of the elves can fix it. They've done it before.'
Harry looked around the room, which had dark walls, rich velvet curtains, and a faintly Middle-Eastern-looking tile floor. 'Where are we anyway?'
'The smoking room. I'd offer you a cigar, but I assume you'd turn it down.'
'I would,' said Harry. 'Were you smoking earlier?'
'Yes. Catherine had never tried it before, and I nearly fainted when I saw her with a cigar in her mouth.' He closed his eyes and said, 'I loathe traditional courtship rules.'
'Weren't you defending wizarding traditions just now?'
'No wizard in his right mind would defend the tradition of not touching the witch before marriage. Unless he's the father, which is apparently the only reason the rule wasn't chucked centuries ago.'
'Surely you've kissed her!' said Harry. 'Even Lydia had been kissed.'
'Yes, but never a proper snog. Her mother was a Baxter and taught her exactly how to behave.' He gave Harry a conspiratorial look and said, 'Couldn't we go to France tonight? I wouldn't tell anyone.'
'No, we can't. And you're as much a part of the problem as anyone.'
Draco scowled and said, 'How did you work that out?'
'You refuse to marry anyone who's not a virgin, right?'
'Of course.'
'Then no wonder witches like Catherine have to keep you at arm's length. Otherwise she'll be damaged goods and stuck with a blood traitor, or worse.'
'That's true, but it's not my job to change things. I'll just drink Firewhisky and find alternative ways to blow off steam.'
Harry gestured towards the issue of Wandlore. 'You can keep it if you like.'
'No, thanks,' said Draco, picking it up nonetheless. He examined the cover and said, 'Blaise is right. They looked like tarts at the nightclub, but now they look fantastic.'
'You don't even realise what a hypocrite you are, do you?'
'Probably not. Which one's the pure-blood? Oh, right, the brunette.' Looking up from the magazine, he said, 'The one problem with Slytherin was the lack of blood traitors. Pansy was brilliant, I'll grant you, but I can only imagine what Gryffindor Tower was like during seventh year. Probably like your parties.'
Harry frowned, suspecting Draco was right. 'Can we change the topic?'
'Oh right, you have a celibacy vow. And we're supposed to be blaming Voldemort.'
'Did he like this room?'
'Yes, it was one of his favourites,' said Draco. 'He fancied himself an aristocrat, you know.'
'That's ironic, considering his Muggle father was the aristocrat.'
'Believe me, I know. Father gave me an earful on the topic.'
'Really? He described a Muggle that way?"
'Merlin, no! He merely said the Gaunts were an embarrassment to wizardkind, and that the Riddle manor house had obviously once been grand. Did you ever see it?'
Only in a Horcrux dream, thought Harry. 'Barely. But I saw his father in a Pensieve memory, and he was unmistakably posh.'
'A Pensieve memory?'
'Yes, Dumbledore showed it to me during sixth year. I also saw the Gaunts, and the orphanage where Voldemort was brought up.'
'You had all the fun that year,' said Draco. 'I was stuck in the Room of Requirement fixing a cabinet.'
Harry stared at him in disbelief. 'Fun? You're joking, right?'
'I'm not. You were the Chosen One, not to mention Quidditch captain and Slughorn's favourite.'
'That's because I was cheating in Potions.'
Draco's jaw dropped. 'How?'
'I had Snape's old textbook, which he'd covered with notes. That's where I found that curse I used on you.'
'Damn you, Potter! Do you know how angry I was you kept beating me in Potions?'
'You and Hermione both. She was furious when she found out.'
'Finally some common ground. Perhaps I'll invite her to the wedding.'
'Is one imminent?'
'No,' sighed Draco. 'There are rules. If we get married too fast, everyone will assume it's because she's pregnant. Which is completely daft, because even you're able to successfully perform a Contraception Charm.'
'Cheers,' said Harry, sipping his whisky. 'But you're certain she's the one?'
'Yes, because she's perfect. Perfect bloodlines, perfect everything.'
'And a perfect stranger. Or near to it.'
'You sound like Mother,' said Draco, scowling again. 'I don't know why it's considered a virtue to know your spouse for a million years before marrying them. If you're sure you've found the right person, why not get to know them after you're married?'
Harry could sympathise, having felt that way about Helena. 'I get it. Honestly, I'd love to be married.'
Draco started coughing on his whisky. 'You'd love to be married?' he gasped. 'You're the living emblem for postponing matrimony!'
'I know, but the whole reason Helena made me take that vow was because I'm in such a hurry. She wanted me to wait before locking myself into a marriage bond.'
'Was she right?' asked Draco. 'Are you relieved she turned you down?'
Harry sighed. 'Yes and no. Helena was brilliant, and we probably would have been happy together. But if she hadn't dumped me, I wouldn't have dated Sophie, or Lydia, or Alex. Or spent the weekend with Penelope—the Muggle.'
'Or been featured in Sorceress. I still can't believe you didn't plant that story.'
'I really didn't.' Smirking, he added, 'But if one night in my life had to get leaked, I'm glad it was that one.'
Draco took another sip of whisky. 'I'd put off marriage too if I could run around like you do.'
'You can run to France.'
'Believe me, I do. But it's not the same.' He closed his eyes and said, 'What's it like to wake up with the witch? I've woken up with a fille de joie, but I'm sure it's different with someone you really fancy.'
Harry sighed again. 'It's brilliant. That's actually been the hardest part about this vow. Well, that and the other part. But waking up and eating breakfast in bed, and reading the Prophet together ...'
'Which must be particularly entertaining, considering you're in it most days.'
'Lydia was with me when they printed the Mothers Against Harry Potter letter. Talk about a tirade! I was convinced you wrote it, by the way.'
'I only wish! I was so upset I hadn't thought of it that I tried hexing a houseplant that morning, only my bloody wand didn't work.'
'You can't even blame me for that one, since it was your borrowed wand,' said Harry.
'No, and it was a Tuesday, as I recall. Tuesdays are Voldemort.'
'Yes, and thanks for reminding me. We've been remiss so far.'
'The bastard,' said Draco. 'When I think about what my life would be without him.'
'What do you reckon would be different?'
'Father would be here. We'd have twice as much gold. You'd be a nobody.'
'And have parents.'
'A nobody with parents. Although you might still be a league Seeker, if I'm being honest.'
'I would love to just be a Seeker,' said Harry. 'No Wizengamot, no one pressuring me to rebuild a fortune. Sirius would be my godfather and Regulus would be Head of House.' After a pause, he added, 'I'd have siblings.'
'Brilliant, more Gryffindors. Just what the world needed.'
'Excuse me, I'm a Slytherin.'
'My mistake.' Draco took another sip of whisky. 'Can you even imagine if we'd been in the same house?'
'I'd be a half-blood nobody. And you'd have been Seeker, since there's no way my dad would have bought brooms for everyone.'
Draco looked embarrassed. 'That wasn't my idea, you know. Not exactly, anyway.'
'Whose was it?' asked Harry. He deliberately took a sip of whisky to invite further confidences.
'I told Father the only reason you were Seeker was because of your Nimbus 2000. That you were a tolerable flyer and Gryffindor needed a Seeker, so McGonagall took pity on you and let you have a racing broom, even though you were a first-year. Father was outraged and decided to prove that no Muggle-raised half-blood could outfly his son.'
'Right, but brooms for the whole team? That's an unfair advantage, not to mention a colossal bribe.'
'You're no longer in a position to sneer at bribes, Potter.'
'True, but my point stands.'
'For Lucius Malfoy, there's no such thing as an unfair advantage. Advantages are a mark of superiority.'
'That's a very convenient philosophy, considering how many unfair advantages he had.'
'Fat lot of good they did him,' said Draco bitterly. 'The only good thing to say about Azkaban is that the Dementors are gone. Other than that, it's as grim as always.'
'How often do you see him?'
'Once a week. On Wednesdays, when everything's your fault.'
'Was that deliberate?'
'Of course it was. I can't visit him on a Monday or Thursday, when everything's his fault. Although it's tempting, now you mention it.'
'Have you made progress on his elaborate plan to bring down the Ministry?'
'Yes. I charmed the parchment to fold into a series of animal shapes. Next time we're in the study I'll show you.'
'And yet you claim I ruined your wand.'
Draco closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. 'I desperately want Catherine. Everything about her.'
'That was a change of subject,' said Harry. 'But do go on.'
'When I'm with her, nothing else matters. Not Father, not Voldemort, not you. I just want to look at her, and hear her laugh. Make her laugh, rather. And on the rare occasions I do get to kiss her, it's heaven. Sometimes I just stare at her lips, in anticipation.'
Harry nodded, knowing exactly how Draco felt. 'It's like being normal,' he said.
'Yes, but also exceptional. I'm not stupid—I know she wouldn't be interested if I weren't a Malfoy. But that makes it all the more intoxicating. Even with half our gold gone and my Death Eater past, I'm still the wizard she wants most. I'm the best there is.'
And she's too old for Jacob Travers, thought Harry. 'Does she know your Dark Mark is gone?'
'No, but I told her I regret taking it. And she understands, because she knows what family pressure is like. Her mother is strict and very traditional, in spite of being disowned, and she wants to see Catherine properly married. Thanks for the dowry, by the way.'
'You're welcome, but you've officially lost the right to criticise me for flogging underwear.'
'No, I haven't,' retorted Draco. 'It's not a huge dowry, which I understand—you'll never rebuild House Black if you bankrupt yourself establishing House White. But she doesn't need a large dowry, not with me. I'd take care of her and give her the life she deserves. It's all I can do not to buy her a new wardrobe, or go down to the family vault and pick out jewellery for her.'
He sounds like Alphard Odysseus Black, only Catherine's not a Muggle actress, thought Harry. 'I hope you get the chance,' he said. 'I spoilt Penelope for an afternoon. She wasn't at all grasping, but we had a ball picking out clothes at Harrods and then staying in a posh hotel for the night.'
'And shagging,' said Draco enviously. 'I can't stop thinking about Catherine's and my wedding night. The marriage bond will be fresh, although I'll hardly need one, and we'll portkey to the Malfoy estate in France. She'll be an absolute vision in wedding robes and the family jewels.' He paused and took a deep breath. 'And we'll be completely alone, with no rules to stop us. I'll have to go slowly, of course, but she'll open like a flower and be entirely mine.'
'And you'll be hers,' said Harry, caught up in Draco's scenario, only picturing himself and an unknown witch. 'I didn't have that with Alex; she didn't want me the same way. And Ginny and I never lived together, except right after the war. But I had it with Lydia, temporarily, and it was the happiest I've ever been.'
'You did me a favour, Potter. If you hadn't ruined Lydia Travers, Mother would insist I court her. She loathes Catherine, of course.'
'Did she say that?'
'She doesn't need to. When you're brought up by Narcissa Malfoy, you learn to read the slightest change of expression or tone of voice. It's obvious she considers her beneath me, and shamelessly ambitious. But Mother can't stop me. I'm as good as Head of House now that I'm free.'
'Would you really want to alienate your mum like that? Andromeda has no formal power over me, but I'd hate to be at odds with her.'
'Mother will come around. She can't object to Catherine's bloodlines, and she'll eventually see how happy she makes me.'
'I can see it, certainly,' said Harry. 'But is Catherine prepared for your sucking pit of need?' Draco protested angrily, but Harry held up a hand. 'I'm not judging you—I have one too. That's what drove Ginny away, and probably Helena too. Unconsciously anyway.'
Draco frowned. 'I'm not as fucked up as you are.'
'Yes, you are. You might have had parents, but one of them was Lucius. And don't forget Bellatrix.'
After a silence, Draco said, 'What happens when you have a nightmare?' There was no need to add 'with someone else there.'
'It depends. Usually they comfort me—even Vera, the witch from Sorceress, although it quickly led to more sex. But sometimes it's hard to sleep with another person there. That's what happened with Jocelyn and Maryann; I ended up going to Regulus's room.' He looked Draco in the eye. 'You have to decide whether you're willing to be that vulnerable in front of someone else. That was the hardest part about when everyone read about my childhood—the entire wizarding world found out how helpless I was. It was agonising, and I still can't believe it's common knowledge.' He took another sip from his glass, which Draco had refilled, and said, 'And that I'm talking about it with you, of all people.'
Draco appeared lost in thought. 'What if she thinks I'm weak?' he said finally. 'You at least killed Voldemort and catch the Snitch every week. I'm just a spoilt aristocrat whose biggest achievement is getting nine N.E.W.T.s.'
'Really? That's only one less than Hermione got.'
'Cheers,' said Draco acidly. 'Now all I need is an Order of Merlin, First Class, and I'll nearly catch up.' After another silence, he said, 'She doesn't need to know.'
'She'll probably notice you have nightmares. I usually kick.'
'I tend to shout,' said Draco. 'That's how Nitta found out. But can't Catherine be supportive without having to know the full story?'
'I don't know. All I know is that sometimes it's more lonely to be with someone who doesn't get it than it is to actually be alone.'
'I'm sure she'll understand, one way or another. And maybe the nightmares will stop once I'm with her.'
Harry saw no point in contradicting him, so he picked up the issue of Wandlore again. 'Can you imagine how Voldemort would react if he saw this?'
'The magazine, or the two of us sitting together in his favourite room?'
'I was referring to the magazine, but I suppose this would shock him as well.'
'I refuse even to speculate on how the Dark Lord would react. My father thought he understood him, but he didn't. I can't tell you how many times Father brought the Dark Lord what he thought was good news, only to come away with blood streaming down his face, or twitching from torture.'
'Then why did he even bother telling him anything?'
'Because of the other times, when the Dark Lord was pleased. I swear there was something in the Dark Mark, because that's where the sensations originated from.'
'The sensations?'
Draco leaned forward. 'Imagine if there were a physical sensation associated with outside approval. Like warmth, maybe, but so much more than that. When Voldemort was pleased with you, two things would happen. One, he'd tell you he was pleased, and usually tell everyone else as well. That alone made up for all the scorn and abuse. But the other thing was you'd feel a wave of pleasure from the Dark Mark, and it would spread through your body. I only experienced it a few times, and it was unbelievable.' Draco got a faraway look as he recalled it.
'All the abuse was worth it during those moments,' he continued. 'The only problem was it didn't last long enough—maybe fifteen seconds at most. And it left you desperate for more.'
'That sounds like Light magic, only far less satisfying.'
Draco rolled his eyes. 'I knew you'd say that. But it was also power.'
'His power over you! Wasn't it humiliating, being manipulated like that?'
'In hindsight, yes. But at the time, no. In those moments, it all made sense again. Dumbledore was just a senile old man, and you were his doomed puppet. But we were the Dark Lord's inner circle.' Looking at Harry, he said, 'Do some Light magic.'
'Right now?'
'Yes. Glow, or whatever your current trick is.'
Harry closed his eyes and invited Light magic to flow through him. Not wanting to blind Draco, he only glowed moderately, but his pleasure was the same as if he were glowing brightly.
'Now imagine you could share it,' said Draco. 'Give it out to whoever you think deserves it.'
'I'd love that,' said Harry, and he imagined that Draco could experience it as well.
Draco sniffed. 'Either you don't think I deserve it, or it isn't working.'
'I'm sorry. I don't know how to share it with anyone besides Kreacher.'
'You share Light magic with your house-elf?' said Draco, surprised. 'I'm sure that's significant, but let's set it aside for the moment. Now imagine you're an aspiring Dark Lord, or someone who wants to gather followers. If you could hand out that feeling at will—and withhold it—imagine how powerful you'd become.'
Harry's pleasure vanished. 'No, it wouldn't work. I could never manipulate someone using Light magic. Or if I did, it wouldn't be Light anymore.'
'You're already manipulating people with Light magic. Going public and letting Rita Skeeter interview you was an incredibly Slytherin move. Even Father says so.'
'Do I want to know what he thinks of my Light magic?'
'He thinks you could become more powerful than Voldemort, and that you need to be stopped.'
'I'll never be as powerful as Voldemort,' said Harry. 'He was right up there with Merlin, as far as magical strength is concerned.'
'True, but isn't that irrelevant with Light magic?'
'I think so. But I don't want to be powerful like Voldemort was. I just want to live my life.'
'And prevent the next war,' said Draco. 'Which sounds noble, but what you're really saying is you want Light wizards to remain on top. Or at least that's how Father sees it.'
'Your father can blow me,' snapped Harry, feeling the effects of the whisky. 'He did far more harm to his cause than I ever could.'
'Save it for Thursday, Potter. Tonight it's Voldemort's fault.' He took another sip and said, 'I should have known when he killed Diggory. That's when Theo caught on.'
'You should have done. Why didn't you? You're stubborn but not stupid.'
'Father said it was necessary. "Collateral damage," he called it, and he blamed you.'
'For bringing Cedric with me?'
'Yes, and later for dragging out the war. If you'd come quietly, far fewer people would have died.'
Harry sighed heavily. 'We can agree on that, at least.'
'The truth is, Father was terrified when the Dark Lord returned. He hadn't searched for him, and he certainly didn't go to Azkaban for him. Meanwhile, he had Fudge in his pocket, and his biggest complaints in life were probably with Dumbledore and me, not necessarily in that order.'
'Why wasn't he happy with you? You were the perfect son and heir.'
'Because I couldn't keep up with you. My marks were better, but otherwise you were the star, not me.'
'And if it had been the other way around, he would have berated you for not having the best marks.'
'True,' said Draco. 'Of course, it all would have been fine if he could have controlled you. He instructed me to win you over on the Hogwarts Express, although it was doomed from the start.'
'Because you immediately insulted the Weasleys?'
'No, because I already resented you massively. For years, Father had talked about you in awed tones—partly with contempt, because of your parents, but he also thought you'd be a wizard of unprecedented power.'
'And then I turned up instead,' said Harry dryly. 'But shouldn't he have realised I only survived the Killing Curse because of my mother's sacrifice? I'm sure he had that book by Jacobus Filch; the preface described my situation perfectly.'
'He did, but no one took the preface seriously—he was more interested in the strategies for fighting Light wizards. Furthermore, no one knew the details of how your parents died. We just thought Voldemort killed them and then tried to kill you. He wasn't exactly in the habit of negotiating with his victims.'
'And no one knew Snape had begged for my mum's life,' said Harry, mostly to himself. 'I only found out my mum had sacrificed herself when those Dementors turned up at the Quidditch match.'
Draco stared at him. 'That's what they forced you to remember?'
'Yeah. What about you?'
'Not that! Bloody hell—no wonder you fell off your broom!'
'Throws a little perspective on that prank of yours, eh?'
Draco grimaced, obviously recalling how he and several Slytherin teammates had dressed as Dementors, in an attempt to distract Harry during a match. 'At least I didn't spout off a Dark curse I saw scribbled in a margin.'
'No, just the Cruciatus. But none of this would have happened without Voldemort, so there's no use blaming each other.'
'But we spent years blaming each other! Why stop now?' said Draco. But then he pulled out his pocket watch and said, 'Scratch that, not for three more hours.'
Harry leaned back. 'What if I had been Sorted into Slytherin? Things would have been completely different, although I don't think I'd have become your dad's puppet entirely, and I doubt I'd have rejected my mum.'
'No, but he could have made you hate Muggles. As soon as he found out your relations had mistreated you, he'd have used that as a wedge.'
'Merlin, you're right! When Hagrid brought me my Hogwarts letter he gave my cousin a pig's tail, and a few years later Fred and George gave him a Ton-Tongue Toffee, both of which I thought were hilarious. I don't know whether I've had grown to hate all Muggles, but certainly my relations.'
'Father would also have flattered you as a Parselmouth. He'd make you believe you were the true Heir of Slytherin, or stoke your pride as a Peverell. He'd also connect you to the Blacks and emphasise your relationship to Mother. He'd say you weren't to blame for your own mother, and that your father's side was spotlessly pure. You'd have been as fierce a blood-purist as anyone. And it would have been a piece of piss to turn you against Dumbledore.'
Harry realised the truth of what Draco was saying. And he doesn't know that Voldemort's Horcrux would have made me even more susceptible, thought Harry. 'But I'd never have forgiven Voldemort,' he said. 'There's no erasing that he killed my parents. And he'd still have found a way to come back.'
'That could have gone multiple ways, and Father would have played all of them,' said Draco. 'But I'm sure he'd want to drive a wedge between you and Voldemort, because together you'd be too strong.'
'And how would this have suited you?'
'That all depends. On the one hand, I'd have been essential to the plan, since I'd be your closest ally. At least on the surface of things, when in truth I'd be serving Father. But on the other hand, I'd have been jealous of you—there's probably a prophecy about that somewhere—so we might have been arch-rivals regardless.'
'We might have duelled over Pansy,' mused Harry. 'And you've clearly put some thought into this.'
'I was under house arrest without a decent wand. What else was I going to do?' Harry gestured towards the bottle of Firewhisky, and Draco chuckled. 'Yes, old Ogden was probably my closest companion. Day or night, rain or shine, he never let me down. And I brew a mean Hangover Potion.'
'Are you still drinking as much now you're free?'
'No,' he said, taking another sip. 'Catherine doesn't like the smell of Firewhisky, so I stick to wine when we're together.' He took a deep breath and added, 'Can I talk about her some more? Or do we need to keep talking about Voldemort? I was expecting more blame from you, but you've been disappointingly restrained.'
'Sorry—I was much more grouchy last week, because of my vow. But you should have seen me after Sirius died, or during the final year of the war; I blamed Voldemort daily, at length. When I found out what had happened to Neville's parents, I blamed Voldemort even more than I blamed the Lestranges. But I guess I'm not feeling very angry tonight.'
'I'm not as angry as usual either,' said Draco. 'Probably because of Catherine. Did I mention how perfect she is?'
'You did, but feel free to elaborate.'
'Her hair, for example. It's just the right amount of wavy. And it goes below her shoulders, which means that when she turns her head, it hesitates for a moment before deciding to cross from front to back, or vice versa. And oh my god, the fragrance. I can't wait until we're married, and I can bury my nose in it whenever I want. And then kiss her neck, and–'
'Point taken,' said Harry. 'Remember I still have five more nights of celibacy.'
'Hands off, Potter—she's mine.'
'Don't worry, I know. And besides, she's not the cousin I'd go for anyway.'
'Lisa Black?'
Harry nodded. 'We both know it's a terrible idea, and we've agreed not to do it. But that makes it even more tempting.'
'She is pretty,' admitted Draco. 'And clever, although definitely the wrong kind of half-blood.'
'Yes, that's my other objection.' Draco stared at him, and Harry said, 'Just kidding.'
'Mother is hoping you'll marry her, in spite of her Blood Status.'
'I'd at least get the dowry back, although technically it's hers regardless. And if you marry Catherine, our children would be that much more related.' Smirking, Harry added, 'And then they could intermarry, and within a few generations we'd have the Gaunts!'
'Not funny, Potter.'
'I could hasten it by squandering my earnings on Muggle actresses, like Alphard Odysseus Black, or by gambling, like Orlando Black. Did you know the Blacks used to have a manor house, only Orlando Black lost it by wagering on a unicorn race?'
'A unicorn race?' said Draco. 'Unicorns don't race.'
'Right, that was the wager. Orlando thought he'd developed a form of the Imperius Curse that worked on unicorns, and he'd even tested it successfully. But Spartacus Rowle, who was also a gambling addict, said he was talking bollocks, which led to an enormous wager. Orlando bet the manor that he could get two unicorns to race each other, and Rowle staked his entire vault that the unicorns would tell him to piss off, metaphorically.'
'And did they?'
'Yes, literally. Using piss.'
'Well played, unicorns,' said Draco. 'But what about his successful tests?'
'It turned out the unicorns were just having him on. And Orlando's wife was so angry that she warded Grimmauld Place against him, and he had to live at Pratt's.'
'How did she ward his own house against him?'
'She was born a Black, and she invoked obscure family magic that stripped him of his status as Head of House, specifically because he'd lost said house. Their son became Head of House instead, only he was obsessed with goblin-made armour, which he insisted on wearing everywhere. He commissioned multiple suits of armour at colossal expense, which he was able to justify because it would never lose its value. Unfortunately the goblins didn't warn him that as soon as he died, the armour would march back to Gringotts, never to return. Which is exactly what happened.'
Draco looked dazed. 'It's a relief to know I couldn't possibly manage the Malfoy assets any worse than the Blacks managed theirs.'
'Do you see now why I admire the Potters for being unpretentious and middle class?'
'Yes, but I'll never admit it publicly. So savour this moment.'
Harry drank the last of his whisky. 'Can you spare some of that Hangover Potion, just in case? Tuttle will kill me if I turn up looking like something the cat brought in.'
'The Kneazle,' said Draco.
'Sorry?'
'Something the Kneazle brought in. That's what wizards say—you used the Muggle expression. Didn't the Weasleys teach you anything?'
'I learnt loads about wizarding culture from the Weasleys. And don't slag your new business partners.'
'Ugh, you're right,' said Draco. 'I'm drinking with my new best mate, Harry Potter, and I'm doing business with the Weasleys. Next you'll have me courting Granger.'
'Do you really want to incur the wrath of Ryan Bellamy?'
'God, no! And besides, I only want Catherine.' He leaned back and sighed. 'You have no idea how soft her hands are.'
Harry rose from the sofa. 'That's my cue to leave, I think. How about that Hangover Potion?'
Draco shook his head. 'You don't look drunk to me. And I'm an expert.'
'You're right, I don't feel that drunk. All that French house-elf cookery must have absorbed the alcohol. Shall I see myself out?'
'No, I'll go too—otherwise I'll keep drinking, and there's a distinct risk I'd pour out my soul in a love letter and make Nitta deliver it.'
'Don't you think Catherine would like that?'
Draco shook his head. 'I wrote her one the other night but fell asleep before sending it. When I read it in the morning, it turned out I'd devoted several paragraphs to speculating about what her breasts look like.'
'And you don't think she'd like that?' asked Harry, smirking.
'I don't get to operate that way, Potter. And stop looking so smug.'
They walked to the drawing room, and Harry said, 'Thanks for having me over. Will I see you before the party?'
'Gringotts meeting next Monday.'
'Right. Never a dull moment.'
Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry pondered Draco's remark about his 'new best mate.' I don't think he was being facetious, thought Harry. And in some respects, Draco understood him better even than Hermione and Ron.
A pair of headcases, he thought. And tonight, at least, it's all Voldemort's fault.
