Chapter Thirty-Eight: Draco's Reward

It had been a month since the end of the school year. A month since Harry informed Nicolas that he needed a break from their lessons, which Nicolas graciously granted him. A month since Harry told Madam Malkin that he would be out on a project.

A month during which Harry kept a mandrake leaf in his mouth.

And tonight would begin the second step of his project.

Except the night was cloudy.

Most wizards would have probably restarted. Harry didn't have time to restart. And he knew his theory. The important part was the crystal phial receiving the full moon's pure rays, not the weather. So he was prepared.

Harry mounted Ferdinand and ascended into the sky after casting the appropriate charms to account for the change in atmosphere.

They were soon above the clouds, and the full moon shone upon them, bathing them in its rays.

Ferdinand turned horizontal, wings outstretched, gliding and holding steady.

Harry pulled out a crystal phial. He carefully spat out the mandrake leaf into the phial. Then he removed one of his hairs and put it into the phial, along with a silver teaspoon of dew and the chrysalis of a death's-head hawk moth.

As soon as the ingredients were mixed, the phial was capped and placed into a box Harry bought specifically for this purpose. Once closed, the box provided an insulated space in which no sound or light can get in and no disturbance can be felt.

Harry returned to his normal duties afterwards.

...

Harry felt his heart thump in excitement. It was finally finished. Lightning flashed, and he took the phial out of the box, the potion having turned blood red.

He placed the tip of his wand over his heart - there was a second heartbeat - and whispered solemnly, "Amato animo animato animagus." Uncapping the phial, he tipped it back and swallowed the potion in one gulp.

Fiery pain spread throughout his body, and he could hear his heartbeat becoming two…

Magnificent antlers appeared in his mind's eye.

Harry doubled over, dropping the phial in pain.

Large green, solemn eyes. Slender legs and hooves.

His body felt like it was being remolded like clay.

Then suddenly it was over. The pain stopped.

Harry opened his eyes, not sure what was going on. Breathing heavily, he stood up shakily. To his panic, he was no longer standing on two legs. He was standing on four hooves. Stumbling awkwardly in his new body, he felt the urge to destroy everything in his stress. But there was nothing for him to destroy in the empty, cushioned room. Then he saw the phial on the floor. Oh, right. He was a wizard who wanted to be able to transform into an animal at will.

The returning memories calmed him down. He hoped succeeding transformations wouldn't be as disorienting. Professor McGonagall never seemed to look confused after transforming into a cat. A sudden thought panicked him – what if he had done it wrong? Perhaps that was why he was feeling such animalistic urges.

He had to transform back to know for sure. What was the process again? He pictured himself, his glasses, his mess of hair…To his relief, his body again felt like it was being remolded. And in the next instant, he was human once again.

"Wow," he breathed, amazed, looking down at his very human hands. He had succeeded. Thrilled, he rushed out of the room and into a nearby bathroom. Picturing the animal inside his mind's eye, he felt his body reshaping, and in the next moment, a stag stared back at him in the mirror. The transformation had not been disorienting at all, to his relief.

Harry was quite happy with his animal (he had been worried about turning into a bug or rat or something of that nature). His fur was jet black, the color of his human hair. His eyes were the exact color of his human eyes. His body was sleek, although there was strength and power beneath the fur, strength and power unfound in a human. A black stag was a bit strange, but he couldn't deny it looked rather cool. The only thing he didn't like about it was that there were these dark grey, barely visible stripes running down his back - of all his human physical characteristics to reflect in his animal form, it was his scars from his humiliations.

Harry transformed back and laughed. "It worked! I'm an Animagus!" Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Draco! He can visit his friend now! And Lucius Malfoy would never guess that a black stag was a thirteen-year-old wizard!

...

Draco looked out his window, bored. He had lost interest in his book an hour ago. It sucked, knowing that his friends could visit each other whenever they wanted, that they were probably having a lot of fun, all without him. He wondered if Harry was visiting the Weasleys right now. He pulled out the parchment Harry had sent him and began to write.

Harry?

One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. No response.

Sighing, Draco put it away. Then as he straightened up, looking out his window again, he saw a most peculiar thing - a black stag grazing near their manor. A black stag? Was that even possible? He ran out his room to his mother's parlor, where his mother was talking to another lady – some witch visiting from Germany. "Mother! There's a black stag outside!"

Surprised at the interruption – Draco never really left his room these days – Narcissa put down her tea cup delicately before asking slowly, "A what, Draco?"

"A black stag!" Draco ran towards the door, glancing at his father's study on the way. He considered informing his father as well, but his father never liked being interrupted when he was working. He opened the door and went outside, uncertainly.

"Draco, there's nothing here," Narcissa said, having followed her son to the door.

"Narcissa, is your son alright?"

"Draco?"

Draco stared out at their grounds. He was certain he saw a black stag. It was then that he noticed their dogs. Their dogs were standing at attention, alert. "Krane? Siren? What's wrong?" Suddenly both dogs bolted towards the forest. "Krane! Siren!" He ran after them – if there really was a stag, they would find it.

"Good heavens! Draco!" Narcissa cried out.

Draco heard it – barking. He followed it to see his dogs cornering – there was no mistaking it – a stag. What a strange stag it was – jet black fur with bright green eyes. Lean, sleek, impressive antlers spread out in a dangerous array... However, the stag didn't attack his dogs, although he was certain it could impale them easily.

The stag looked up when Draco entered the scene, and for some strange reason, Draco felt as though he had been led out here.

Bewildered, but believing that no one was in danger, Draco called out, "Krane, Siren, here!"

His dogs turned to him and obediently returned.

The stag stared at him.

Draco stared back – the stag was rather large up close. Something about it felt familiar, the way it walked, the way it looked at him…

"Draco!" His mother had finally arrived, breathing heavily. She saw the stag and immediately whipped out her wand.

"Wait, Mother! He's not hurting me!" Draco said quickly. "He's friendly…I think."

"Draco, that's a stag." His mother didn't lower her wand. "The coloring is abnormal - it might be an Animagus. No deer in the world would have such coloring. And even if it's a normal deer, a stag is a dangerously unpredictable animal. It would run you through if you're not careful."

Draco turned to the stag. It was still staring at them.

"Let me check first, Draco," Narcissa said calmly. "If it's a normal deer, this won't hurt it at all." With a slash of her wand, blue light shot out at the stag who turned around and bolted. "Oh no, you don't! Incarcerous!"

Rope tripped the stag and bound its four legs together.

Draco found himself wincing.

"Let's try that again." Blue light hit the animal this time.

Nothing happened. The stag struggled desperately.

Narcissa frowned. "I was so sure the way it ran..."

Draco found himself saying, "I think you just scared it, Mother." He walked tentatively over.

The stag whipped his head up, his antlers narrowly missing Draco by inches.

"Draco, stay back! That is a dangerous animal!"

Seeing his mother about to do something drastic, Draco pointed his wand at the rope. "Diffindo."

The stag quickly got to its feet and shook itself. Then it stared at Draco again.

"Please, Mother," Draco pleaded. "He's not hurting anyone."

"He almost gored you!"

"No, no, I just startled it!" Turning towards the stag, Draco reached out. "Look, he's not attacking!"

And indeed, the stag wasn't. It stayed still for Draco to pet it on the muzzle.

"I think he likes me," Draco said. "Maybe because I freed it."

His mother hesitated – her son was her greatest weakness – before frustration came across her face. "Prevention is always better than a cure."

"Please, Mother!" Draco begged again.

"Alright, alright!" Narcissa gave in. "But for your protection, it'll have to wear an obedience collar."

Draco turned to the stag. "Okay."

Narcissa waved her wand, summoning what appeared to be a normal dog collar from the manor. She enlarged it to fit the stag's neck. However, when she approached the stag, it was having none of it. It turned around and bolted.

"Maybe I can try."

Narcissa handed the collar to Draco.

Draco began to call out. "Hey, wait!"

The stag turned around to stare at him again.

Draco held up the collar.

Slowly, it walked back and allowed Draco to place it around its neck.

Narcissa frowned. "Down."

The collar yanked the stag to the ground and kept it there. Draco was impressed that it didn't struggle. Perhaps it was because Draco was the one who placed the collar on it.

"Up."

The collar yanked it up.

"Very well," Narcissa finally said. "You may have it."

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said before leading the stag back to the manor.

There, the German witch who had been having tea with Narcissa gawked at the black stag. "Narcissa, what is this? I've never seen a black stag before."

"Draco's new pet," Narcissa said dryly. However, Draco knew his mother well - Narcissa was pleased at her guest being so impressed. Likely, his mother would take a new liking to the stag, perhaps even showing it off.

"You're sure it's not an Animagus?"

"I checked."

The witch walked around the stag studying it. "Do you think I can buy him off you? Such a strange animal might have wonderful magical properties."

Draco almost grinned. His mother was sold. She was never going to get rid of the stag now.

"He's Draco's."

Draco shook his head. "He's not for sale." To the witch's disappointment, Draco led the stag around under his bedroom balcony. Then he levitated him up before going inside to his bedroom as well. His mother would be proud. The stag was definitely a magnificent decoration if it lay on the balcony, perhaps on a cushion. If Draco had any friends he could invite over, they would be impressed.

However, when he entered his bedroom, the stag was nowhere to be found. Instead, he found Harry sitting on his chair, grinning boyishly at him, the collar around his neck. With a flick of his wand, Harry closed the door behind him and locked it.

"Hey."

Draco gaped. "What…How…"

Harry chuckled before transforming into the black stag and back. "I'm an animagus!"

Draco had so many questions, and he didn't know which to ask first. He must be dreaming. "Do…uh…you want me to take the collar off?" he finally asked.

Harry waved his hand. "No need," he said casually. "I'll need to put it back on around your parents anyway."

Draco shivered. "That sounds so wrong." He sat down across from Harry. "You don't seem bothered by the fact that you have an obedience collar on." Of course, Harry had been growing in confidence in his magic these days. Not surprising, considering his friend was steadily learning magic under arguably the most knowledgeable wizard in the world.

"Not really. I get to hang out with you, and you'd take it off any time I want you to."

Draco looked away, happy. Though weird to say out loud, it made him very happy to know that Harry wanted to be with him so much that he was willing to be an obedient pet under his father's roof.

"Did you enjoy my acting?"

"You know, a black stag isn't the least suspicious thing to be," Draco drawled. "Although yes, I am impressed you managed to act so much like a wild deer and yet still managed to show your favoritism towards me."

"I don't really have a choice in which animal to be," Harry said, looking around Draco's room curiously.

"How did you avoid the Animagus Reversal Spell?" Draco asked.

Harry winked and pulled the front of his robes apart, revealing a small gem of sorts on his chest. "Shield charm. When I transform, it's hidden underneath the fur. I modified it to absorb only that specific spell since your parents seem like the type of people who would use spells for everything, and I can't risk a spell like Incarcerous bouncing off of me." He closed his robes once more.

Draco's eyes shifted uneasily to his locked bedroom door. "What if the worst happens?"

"I disapparate back home," Harry said. "You know that spell I use to summon Sasha anywhere in Hogwarts? It was a spell my family developed based on studying our house elves' magic. I can use it to summon creatures to me. I can also use it to disapparate elsewhere. Regardless of whether normal apparition works or not."

Draco stared at him, half in awe, half in disbelief. It would appear that under Nicolas's tutelage, Harry's developing observational skills, along with his magical creativity and intuition, had combined to produce a cleverness beyond even those of Slytherins.

Harry's eyes wandered over to a violin in the corner. "You play?"

Draco's cheeks flushed. "A little."

"You're embarrassed about being able to play a violin?" Harry laughed.

Draco said carefully, "Not embarrassed. Self-conscious." He paused. "Father doesn't approve. Said it was a waste of time since wizards can just enchant the violin to play itself."

Harry nodded at the violin. "Go on."

Draco sighed. Of course Harry would. He picked up the violin and stopped. He had never really played for an audience before. Not like this. "I might make a mistake or two," he warned.

Harry nodded his acknowledgment.

And then Draco began to play.

As the notes sounded throughout his room, while very self-conscious, Draco privately wished that he could do this more often. Playing music for Harry. Not because he wanted praise, but because there was something wonderful in the simple act of doing something for the other boy who seemed quite pleased and appreciative.

Draco almost stopped in realization.

He, Draco Malfoy, the spoiled son of a follower of Voldemort, was eager to please and to serve Harry Potter.

Draco grimaced. Probably best to keep that understanding to himself. Harry would probably think he was weird. Merlin's beard, Draco himself thought he was weird. Or perhaps...Malfoys were meant to follow, serving a source of power.

No, that didn't quite sound right. Or at least, it didn't sound completely right.

His father wouldn't have been content serving without getting anything in return. He would want a share of Voldemort's power and prestige. Everyone would fear him because he was with Voldemort.

If that was true, that Malfoys were meant to follow and serve a source of power for their own gain, then what did Draco want from Harry?

Pulling the Sorting Hat off and reaching inside it, he pulled out a beautiful sword, silver in color with a ruby set at the bottom of the hilt. The letters on the blade spelled out "GRYFFINDOR." ... he raised the sword above his head ... With courage he never knew he had, he brought the blade down right into Voldemort's chest... Draco yanked the sword out before swinging it, this time slicing straight through Voldemort's neck.

Draco stopped playing.

Harry looked up curiously. "Was that the full song? It ended rather suddenly - "

"Harry." His father may have been content with second hand power, but Draco was not. "I want something from you."

Harry was taken aback. "What do you want from me?" he asked cautiously.

Draco didn't want to feed off of Harry's power. He wanted his own. "I want the power you have."

"My... power?"

"Not your power," Draco insisted. "The power you have," he clarified. "I want it," he demanded.

Confusion flitted across Harry's eyes. Then he blinked in realization. Raising an eyebrow in challenge, he said, "Take it then."

...

As expected, Harry's stag form was eventually used by Draco's parents as a status symbol for guests. When guests came over, they would have Draco parade Harry in front of them, his amazing coloring making him the subject of more than a couple inquiries about a possible sale.

Draco knew Harry didn't mind any of it - his friend was becoming so confident in his abilities these days that being subjected to such indignities didn't bother him.

But it bothered Draco.

Harry didn't mind Draco leading him around like an animal nor did he mind being examined like an object, but Draco minded. Harry was willing to be used to impress the guests of his former torturer, but it made Draco fume inside. It was all too beneath his friend, and it made Draco want to scream at his parents, especially his father. His father didn't know, but it didn't matter - the man had the audacity to use Harry like that after everything he did.

This was the last way in which he wanted to spend time with Harry.

But as far as Harry was concerned, it was all worth it.

Draco finally blew up when his father suggested he learn to ride Harry before their next dinner party. He barely made it to his room before he snarled, "You're getting out of here."

Harry glanced up from the book he was reading from Draco's shelf. "Why?"

"My father wants me to bloody ride you at our next dinner party. To hell with that!" Draco could see Harry's lips quirking up in a barely contained smirk. "You're getting out of here, and I'm just going to tell my parents that I thought you belonged in the wild or some half-arsed excuse."

"Riding me, huh? That sounds interesting," Harry said good-naturedly.

"Harry, I'm not riding you, you ponce!" Draco fumed, yanking the book out of Harry's hands.

Harry sniggered before taking pity on Draco and saying calmly, "Look, this is the nature of being someone's entertainment - "

"I don't want you to be people's entertainment!"

"People like varied entertainment," Harry continued. "Eventually, guests will be bored of you just leading me around. I don't mind being entertainment if you get to be less lonely over summer. Besides, eventually, they will exhaust ways to use me to entertain. Then they'll find something else and leave us alone. I'm willing to wait it out." After all, he had been used in worse ways as entertainment.

Draco looked away. "I don't like it. You're above all this."

"I like mixing things up and going against the grain a bit," Harry said lightly.

...

There were quite a few guests at the dinner party.

Sighing, Draco led Harry out. His parents had special robes made for the occasion. As he swung himself onto the stag's back, he thought he would look rather dashing. If only he was riding a real stag and not his friend, maybe he could enjoy the attention without the discomfort.

Harry reared up on his hind legs, and there were gasps of amazement. He shook his head, and people pointed enthusiastically at his antlers.

Afterwards, Draco just wanted to go back to his room and sleep, but it wouldn't have been socially proper.

"He's very beautiful, Draco."

Draco looked up from his pumpkin juice to see Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin in the same year as him. He hadn't talked to her in years, although he had occasionally seen her around Hogwarts. Using a clip to help keep her bangs out of her face, she had very soft and gentle feminine features - she was as pretty as ever. Unlike most Slytherin girls, Daphne was soft-spoken, charismatic. It wasn't a façade, although Draco knew her natural sweetness and femininity belied her Slytherin traits - she was a Slytherin through and through. If anything, they helped her in that regard.

As far as Draco was concerned, she was the only Slytherin worth dating, and he found himself looking below her neckline. Her dress robes accentuated her slender form. She knew how to dress. Shaking himself out of his wandering thoughts, he remembered who she was referring to. "Thanks," he muttered, remembering his predicament.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm going to go get some food," she said. "I'll see you around."

As she left, Draco considered the situation. While it was by no means the standard, it was typical that Slytherins were subtler with courting. Not ones to show their hands and leave themselves open to rejection and possible humiliation, oftentimes there would be a lot of dancing back and forth, with both parties tentatively testing out the waters whether the other was interested. Most of the time, physicality preceded any admission of feelings. And if it turned out one party wasn't interested, the other would simply pretend that they were simply being friendly or looking for a fling. Always leave a way out. Always be guarded.

Draco didn't know if Daphne was interested and testing the waters or if she was simply being a polite guest. Her lack of reaction to his wandering gaze could go either way - could be good since perhaps she enjoyed it enough not to scold him but could be bad since she didn't show pleasure at it and perhaps was being polite. The Slytherin in Draco was busy weighing and debating both sides when Harry interrupted him.

With a nudge from his muzzle.

From such a large animal, the slight nudge was enough to make Draco stumble slightly. "What?"

The stag stomped his foot, his eyes focused on Daphne at the buffet table.

Draco crossed his arms. "Yes, I like her. What about it?"

Even in his stag form, Harry's eyes gleamed with mischievousness. He tilted his head in her direction.

Draco paled. "No. Are you mad? You don't just approach someone like Daphne like that." Harry nudged him even more insistently before Draco's face turned horrified. "No. Absolutely not. That's not how you do these things! That may work in Gryffindor but she's a Slytherin. She requires more decorum!"

Harry stomped his foot again.

Draco tapped his foot nervously, weighing his options. He could approach her the Slytherin or the Gryffindor way. He supposed she did approach him first - he's a Gryffindor now, so how did she expect him to react? "Fuck it. Let's do it."

Harry snorted.

"Shut up, you." Draco swung himself onto Harry's back again, feeling significantly less awkward than before. Perhaps because this time, technically Harry was acting as a wingman and not as a status symbol.

Harry took him straight to Daphne without Draco having to direct him.

Daphne heard them and turned around, her eyes widening at the sight.

Draco coughed nervously. "Do you want a ride? I can show you around our gardens."

Daphne blinked, speechless. Then, her cheeks slowly turned red as a few guests turned to watch and whisper. Finally, she stammered, "I-I suppose?"

Draco could have smirked. Even if she ended up hating him, sending the normally collected Daphne Greengrass into stammers would be a decent consolation prize. He climbed off and helped her on.

As he walked them around the gardens, Daphne remained quiet, allowing him to talk about this and that section of the roses. Once there was a lull in the tour, she said, rather carefully, "Draco, do you realize how this all looks?"

Draco answered, just as cautiously, "Yes." His nerves were starting to act up in anticipation. After all, he was opening himself up to her, submitting himself to her decision to reject or accept him. Harry was right - it took a lot of guts. Draco just hoped he could keep all his guts in. He may be a Gryffindor, but he was starting to think that that didn't necessarily make things easier. "If you'd like, it can be more than just appearance."

"Hmm." Daphne's expression was unreadable. "What if I don't want it?"

Draco's stomach sank, and his face reddened. "Well I'd take you back," he said. "And apologize profusely and publicly for embarrassing you in my attempt to communicate my affection to you." And he'd probably hide in his room until summer ended in humiliation.

Daphne stared at him. Then she turned away, smiling. "Draco, since when do you wear your heart on your sleeve like this?"

Confused, Draco didn't know what to say.

"I didn't think being a Gryffindor would change you so much," Daphne said. She looked thoughtful.

"What did you expect?" Draco said, still bemused.

"Whatever I expected, it would have been subtler than... this." She gestured to herself riding on a stag. "We haven't talked for years, and suddenly this? You're not giving yourself much room to land on your feet if I don't harbor the same feelings."

"I figured you're worth the risk landing on my face," Draco quipped.

Silence.

Daphne leaned down, studying him. "Daring, nerve, and chivalry... You really are a Gryffindor now, aren't you?"

Her sudden closeness made Draco's mouth dry. "Is that okay?" he choked out.

She stared at him. Then she laughed. "I haven't decided yet," she said. "I haven't spent that much time around Gryffindors to know."

"Oh." Draco couldn't help the disappointment. But what did he expect? Daphne wasn't going to give more than she had to. It was just nerve-wrecking because he had showed her his hand, and she wasn't giving him much.

Suddenly he felt gentle fingers running through his hair. He looked up to see Daphne watching his reaction with more than a little interest. "But maybe you can convince me either way?"

And that was when Draco realized that Daphne Greengrass had offered him a glimpse of half her hand.

...

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