*Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews. Eight! Woo hoo! Anyway, we're one step closer to some HP/DM. With a little RW/HG beneath our belts and some RW/HP in this chapter we're well on our way!
Chapter Four
"Mummy," Draco said, cracking the silence of early morning with his voice, still thick and crumbly with sleep. "Where's daddy?" He looked up from his bowl of hot cereal to his mother sipping tea idly beside him.
"Your father went to work, baby boy, just like he always does." Narcissa gave her son a warm smile and set her tea cup down, stirring in a lump of sugar with her spoon.
He watched her for a moment as he stirred, a finger hooked just inside his lower lip, before reaching towards her little bowl of sugar cubes. His fingers paused before touching one until Narcissa gave him a gentle tip of her head. Only then was it safe to help himself. He dropped his selected cube into his porridge and forced it to the bottom with his spoon before he began stirring, just like her.
"Mummy," He said again, as stirring sugar soon became tiresome. "How come, whenever I wake up early, it's never early enough to see daddy before he goes to work?"
Narcissa still smiled, reaching a hand out to smooth down some fly away hair on Draco's little head. He always looked so adorable like this, bare foot and swinging his legs, dressed in his father's shirt. "Because your father goes to work very early, when it's still dark outside. You needn't worry, baby boy, every day before he leaves, father peeks into your room and gives you a goodbye kiss."
"Oh." Draco looked back into his cereal again and began to eat. He'd ventured only a handful of bites before looking at his mother who had since moved on from tea to the Daily Prophet. "Mummy?"
When Narcissa turned the page and didn't answer him right away, Draco repeated himself sounding slightly alarmed. "Mummy!"
The elegant woman lowered the paper and finally gave him her attention. "Yes, baby boy?"
"Why?"
"Why what, Draco?"
"Why does Daddy have to get up so early to go to work?"
Narcissa was silent for a moment as she watched her son watch her, his large gray eyes and his small fists made of even smaller fingers clench on either side of his bowl. Every moment with Draco was more adorable than the one before it. "How old are you, baby boy?"
"I'm five!" He said instantly and proudly. It had taken an eternity to reach five years old.
"Well that's very old. I should start calling you big boy now instead of baby, what do you think?"
"I don't mind, mummy," her son replied and when Narcissa scooted back from the table he slid off of his chair and over to her, lifting his arms.
Narcissa scooped him up and set him into her lap. She smoothed out his hair again, brushing it from his face with her gentle fingers and then leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose. He giggled. "You'll always be my baby boy, Draco."
"But mummy," Draco rested against her soft body, looking up into his mother's face from below, his fingers curled against her morning robes. "What about daddy?"
"What about daddy!" Narcissa repeated, lowering a hand on Draco's stomach and rubbing over his belly. "Okay, baby boy, you're old enough now. I think it's about time I told you."
Sensing a big secret, Draco sat up slightly, looking at her earnestly. "About daddy?" he asked.
"Mm hm," She nodded. "You see, Draco, if daddy didn't wake up so early and leave the house, the sun would never rise."
"It wouldn't?" His eyes got so wide, Narcissa had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and ruining the whole story.
"No it wouldn't," she managed to sound serious and grave as she continued, "you see, every morning when the moon goes to sleep and the sun wakes up, it peeks out from behind the clouds and looks down onto the earth to find daddy. If daddy isn't out there, the sun will be sad and say'there aren't any Malfoys out and about today. They must have all perished while I was sleeping! What a horrible world this is now without a single Malfoy in it. There's no point in waking up now, I'll sleep forever' and it would never wake up. You wouldn't want to live in a world without the sun, would you?"
Draco shook his head 'no'. "Daddy," he said with a smile slowly growing over his face, "daddy is the most important man in the whole world isn't he?"
Narcissa smiled after a moment and then reached over the table to slide his breakfast bowl towards them. "He is very important," she agreed. "Now you need to hurry up and finish your porridge or we won't be able to go to the zoo today and watch the dragons."
****
Since returning from Azkaban Fortress, time, for Draco Malfoy, passed without any comprehension. Days were swallowed by nights and nights melted into weeks. He spent it in his room, or in the drawing room, sometimes sitting in the back yard, and even, late at night, chatting with Mrs. Black.
It wasn't time spent in depression, but rather, in thought. His mother had been in Azkaban for little over a month when he finally saw her, and already she had decayed into that thing he had witnessed through the mirror. Without the Dementors there how could this have happened? How could it have happened if not by wizard hands?
The thought of the guards at Azkaban touching and hurting his mother boiled quickly into rage in Draco's mind. The wizard that had taken him and Professor Snape to the fortress had mentioned something about developing Dementor-like charms to use on their most special "guests". Obviously, his mother had to be a product of that terrible hospitality.
It was difficult for him to admit that his mother was no longer the same woman she had been when she greeted him coming off the Express barely a blink in time ago. All of her sweetness and beauty had been worn away by the senseless, unforgiving shadows of Azkaban. It wasn't something he would ever be able to forgive.
His intentions would turn to all out war if his father turned out to be the same as his mother. When he had visited the jail, and after he'd seen his mother, he had been afraid to see Lucius and find out for sure if he had become mad or not.
Now, he wished that he had seen him, if for anything, to clear the doubt that filled his head. His father, he tried to reassure himself, was a strong and powerful man. There wasn't any way a charm made by wizard hands could break him, especially those mediocre to poor hands he'd seen at Azkaban.
Usually, this pattern of thought changed around dinner time. When the evening rose and he was still all alone in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house, he worried about his own future. The apple never falls very far from the tree, the saying went, and Draco wondered if maybe this wasn't true. Were the eyes of his mother his own eyes in twenty or twenty five years? Maybe even five years, the future was so startlingly close.
His trip to Azkaban finally forced Draco to worry about what he should have spent years before worrying about. Voldemort. Even though simply thinking the name made Draco wince, he forced himself to confront it now. He laid on his back, askew in bed with his feet lifted up and crawling along the wall towards the ceiling. He thought about his future with the Dark Lord.
His family was bound to You-Know-Who in a way that couldn't be escaped, but at the same time Draco decided to make the conscious decision to not end up like his father and mother had. He wouldn't blindly follow He Who Must Not Be Named like his father before him. He wouldn't have the same future that his parents shared, rotting in jail at the mercy of sods not even worthy of cleaning his toilet.
Stretching his arms out before him, fingers spread and lacing together, he let his legs slide down the wall and back to the mattress of his bed. To show him just what he shouldn't do, what he shouldn't become, would be the last lesson his father and mother would ever teach him.
****
For Hermione and Ron, Operation Potter had started with a Bang! and hadn't lost steam since. They had begun with casual hints, mentioning Harry's name when they cleaned, saying how much faster things would go if he were there.
Then over dinner they would recall their funny Harry At Dinner anecdotes and whenever anyone said or did anything interesting or funny one of the two Gryffindors was sure to echo 'Harry would really like to hear that!' or "Oh, boy! If Harry had seen that...".
The adults were starting to get the message. Although their banter had been funny the first few times around now, whenever Harry's name was mentioned, it was followed by rolling eyes.
It was the rolling eyes that made Ron and Hermione decide it was time to move on to the next phase of operations. It was why they'd spent most of their morning after breakfast in the drawing room creating a Harry of their very own.
Using Ron's school uniform they constructed a body around a broom spine, filling Ron's clothes with balled up shirts and socks to form a torso. A pair of gardening gloves served as hands, Ron's stuffed shoes for feet, and somewhere in the house they'd found a pair of old glasses to slip through the stiff bristles of the broom to make up Harry's face. By the time it was finished, although it wasn't as perfect as it could have been with the help of magic, the effigy was something to behold.
It had easily been one of the most amusing experiences of their life, especially when Ron started talking to the broom as if it really were their friend, apologizing as he shoved his hands down Harry's clothes. Hermione laughed and laughed. Both of them worked very hard to keep busy. If their hands and minds were occupied, no discussion of the kiss would have to take place.
"You know, Hermione," Ron said with a smile as he reclined on the Harry they'd completed. "He's pretty comfy! True there are a few lumps that need straightening out," he gave Harry's side a punch to illustrate, "but after that I think he'd make a pretty good pillow."
"Oh, Ron! I'm telling Harry you said that!"
"Don't you dare!" Ron growled and got to his knees as both he and Hermione perched over Harry on the floor, each crouching on one stuffed side. "Don't listen to her Harry! She's full of lies! Full of lies and deceit!"
"I am not, Harry you know that!" Hermione pushed Ron lightly aside before clasping her hands against her chest and looking down into Harry's spectacles earnestly. "Ron's just using you, Harry! All this time he's tricked us! He's been pretending to be our friend when all he really wants is to use you as a pillow!"
"Lies! Lies! It's all lies! Harry, don't fall prey to her feminine wiles!"
Hermione shrieked in dismay as Ron said that. "How could you! All of my secrets! All my secrets laid bare! You don't believe him, Harry, do you? Do you? I would never use me being a girl to get what I wanted from a man!"
Still hovering over the broom, their banter stopped suddenly as both of them looked up and towards the door as movement caught their eye. It was Draco staring at them with a disturbed look on his face.
Draco looked at Hermione and Ron.
Ron and Hermione looked back.
Draco glanced towards Harry, lying pinned between the two.
Harry, who had no real eyes behind those glasses, didn't look at anything.
Without a word passed between them, the Slytherin turned around and went back down the hall and soon, was out of sight.
Hermione and Ron burst out laughing.
"Did you see?" Ron wailed with laughter, holding his sides as he leaned against the leg of a sofa. "Did you see his face! I've never seen a face like that before, the was the best horrified slash disturbed slash shocked face I've ever seen in my entire life!"
Hermione's face was red with giggling, her grin pressed behind her hands as she sat down on Harry's thigh. "I saw it, I saw it!"
As their laughter died down, Hermione bounced lightly on her seat and looked at Ron. "You know, I think your right, he is pretty comfy!"
"I told you! I told you!" He turned towards Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "You heard her. You're witness."
"Oh, stop it." Rolling her eyes, Hermione glanced again the doorway that Draco had appeared in and then disappeared from. "Hey, Ron," she began.
Ron, who followed her gaze and thoughts very well, groaned. "Not again, Hermione, please don't say something about Malfoy again."
"What do you mean 'not again'?" Hermione complained getting to her feet. "Have you seen him lately? Something happened to him! Wherever Snape took him it wasn't good. He hasn't said anything nasty to us in weeks!"
"I can't believe you're actually complaining about that! Hermione, he hasn't said much of anything in weeks." Ron corrected.
"Well see? See what I mean? That isn't normal especially not for him. I don't suppose you've realized that with his life changed like this, there just might be a chance for him to switch sides, also!"
"So? So what?"
"So! So that's one less Death Eater we'd have to worry about! And you know how annoyingly persistent Malfoy is. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to deal with that for once?" Hermione had assumed her stubborn hand-on-hip pose, glaring down at Ron the way his mother glared at him.
It made him cringe slightly as he took a seat on the couch, folding his arms over his chest. "Sure it would be nice to not have to deal with him, but I'd rather it be because he wasn't around at all! If you ask me, the Ministry should have shipped him off to Antarctica or something!"
"Ron," Hermione lowered her hands slowly and she softened her face. "I really think you're being too hard on him."
"And I think you're being too soft to him!" Ron, who wasn't going to be swayed by Hermione's doe eyes, looked in another direction. "I know. We'll let Harry decide what we do. He's the voice of reason."
"The voice of reason? You didn't just say that did you?" Hermione dead panned. "Isn't he the one who gave you the idea to fly your father's car to Hogwarts in second year?"
"Actually," Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "That was my idea."
"I should have known." Hermione said acidly. "But the point remains that he went along with it! Harry's always running around getting into trouble without thinking things through first. Remember when you two followed those spiders into the Forbidden Forest? Remember the time–"
Ron interrupted her before she could continue, his heckles rising. "Forget about Harry, what about you, Hermione!" He jabbed a finger at her.
"Me? What about me!" Her voice was rising too.
"You're not that bloody brilliant either, you know! You get into just as much trouble as the rest of us. What makes it worse is with you, you actually do think things through first and still end up over your head!"
"I do not! Like what?"
"Well since you brought up second year, how about when you went and got yourself petrified! You knew it was a Basilisk but you just had to see it for yourself didn't you? So you went creeping around without us peeking around corners with mirrors! That's really using your head!"
Hermione turned scarlet but before she had a chance to reply, someone else broke in from the doorway "You two just really fall apart without me here to keep you cool, don't you?"
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione cried at the same time. Maybe Operation Potter had worked more smoothly than they thought it would!
Hermione was the first on him, wrapping her arms around the real Harry in a hug so tight it made him squeak. Ron grinned broadly and although he didn't hug Harry (that just wouldn't be manly), he clapped him roughly on the back. "It's about bloody time you got here, mate!"
"Yeah," Harry replied, lowering his arms from Hermione as the girl stepped away. He held onto her shoulder and took Ron's too, giving them a little shake before letting them go completely. "I didn't think I was supposed to be picked up for a long time yet so imagine my surprise when your mum and dad showed up almost a month early, Ron! Apparently," behind his glasses, Harry's green eyes drifted past them to the crude version of himself on the floor "some people just couldn't stand to live without me."
Ron looked over his shoulder at the figure and laughed lightly, Hermione blushed. "Well, what can we say. Operation Potter was a big success!"
"Operation Potter?" Harry gave them both a weird look, not that they needed to do any explaining. They'd all managed to do some pretty strange things together over the years as it was.
Hermione crouched by the broom Harry and lifted him up, holding him out towards the real thing with a smile. "Do you think we should set him up in the kitchen just to freak out Ron's mum when she goes in there to make dinner?"
"Let's do it!" Ron agreed eagerly without hesitation and the four of them snuck out of the drawing room to do just that and then wait for the results of their labor to unfold in Ron's room.
It took longer than Ron would have liked it to to fill Harry in on everything that had happened since Harry had been cut off from the wizarding world a month and a half ago when school had let out. It wasn't that there was so much news to report as much as it was Hermione wanting to talk about Malfoy. In the end, nothing about the out of place border at 12 Grimmauld Place was decided.
Harry wanted to talk a lot about Sirius. Both Hermione and even Ron were keen enough to notice the sleepless bruises beneath Harry's eyes and the sad hint in all of his smiles. He'd told them that he was finally having dreams that weren't Voldemort dreams, but at the same time, for once he wished he wasn't.
Hermione had listened to all of this with her arms around Harry's shoulder and her head resting against his. Ron, who wasn't quite sure what to say, spent a lot of time saying nothing and looking forlorn and useless at his shoes.
That was why Mrs. Weasley's scream came with a much needed break of comedic relief. For once, her fright wasn't followed by a cry of 'Fred and George Weasley!' but this time "Ronald Weasley! You get down here and dismantle this creepy thing this instant!"
****
That evening, when Hermione, Ron, and Harry assembled for dinner they learned some very promising news. Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them, although she looked a bit pressed for time. She'd made sure the evening meal was set out and that they'd have everything they needed before turning to the group "Arthur and I are going to meet Tonks in London along with the rest of the Order." she explained. "That means you three...or rather, you four, will be on your own tonight. Hermione, as the woman of the house, I'm leaving the kitchen up to you. I know you'll delegate responsibility properly. If you can, try and get Draco to eat, hm? He's looking a bit thin lately."
She left in a disorganized flurry only to reappear a second time moments later. "And Harry," She seemed to calm down slightly as she said his name, reaching out to touch his head and attempt to smooth his wild hair. "We're really glad to have you here again."
"Thanks." Harry smiled warmly at her in return. "I'm glad to be here, too."
Molly pulled Harry into a light motherly hug while addressing the other two, especially Ron if the direction of her gaze said anything. "Make sure you're in bed by midnight, you've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow!" Releasing Harry, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen and then the house successfully, without having to return again.
"Glad that's over." As the front door closed finally for the last time, Ron allowed himself to slump in his seat. "It's really tough since Fred and George moved out. Ginny n' me are the only ones left in the house. I think it's really starting to get to my mum."
"Where is Ginny anyway?" Harry had noticed rather quickly that the youngest Weasley wasn't around as she always seemed to be.
Hermione opened the pans Mrs. Weasley had set on the table and began to dish out portions. "She's staying with some of her friends over the summer, right Ron?"
"Yeah," he replied blandly. He was more intent on his plate being filled with Shepard's pie and buttery green beans than talking about his little sister. "Not that I mind, only that it means that I get hollered at every time something goes wrong."
"Well, Ron," Hermione calculated as she set down the plate in front of him, "if something goes wrong and there's no one else in the house but you and your parents, then shouldn't you get yelled at anyway? You're the only cause left."
The way her smile beamed at him made Ron growl. "No, Hermione, there's so much clutter everywhere at the Burrow, who knows what else lives there with us."
Harry laughed.
"My, my." The drawl of Draco Malfoy was unmistakable. "If this isn't the most touching family portrait ever. Although, I'm not sure but, I think polygamy is illegal in England. Sorry Granger."
It wasn't a surprise to anyone when Draco took a seat at the head of the table.
"Oh great," Ron complained loudly. "Who moved Malfoy's rock on the way down here? I told you all to be careful or he'd crawl out!"
"Funny, Weasley." Draco dragged the dinner casserole towards him, helping himself. "Slop again, I see," he said as a spoonful of dinner plopped lifelessly onto his plate. "I know the three of you are probably used to it by now but I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts. I can't take much more of this swill day in and day out."
"You are such a clod, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped at him. "Can't you say anything nice for once in your life?"
"Believe me, Granger, I try but..." He took a bite of the pie, making a face as he chewed. "The three of you really don't provide much material."
"Merlin, just shut up." Harry sounded tired, trying to break up the argument for once instead of perpetuating it. "Can't we just enjoy a meal without having to bicker and snipe at each other like little kids?"
Hermione beamed at Harry for being so mature.
"I don't know, Potter." Draco wasn't ready to give Harry a break as he lifted another fork full of the dinner and let it dribble back down onto the plate. "I don't know if there's a charm strong enough to make me enjoy this."
Draco was more than a little annoyed, he found, when Harry chose to watch his plate instead of look over at him. What was with this sudden fad of apathy? He had really been looking forward to getting in a good row with Potter once he'd found out that he'd finally came to 12 Grimmauld Place instead of simply being a part of an eavesdropped discussion.
"So," Draco, who couldn't stand the sound of silence not filled by his own voice, began anew, "where'd the Order of the Idiots go tonight that they can't be here to enjoy this sludge with us?"
The Slytherin lit up slightly as he finally got a reaction out of Harry, the boy groaning as he pushed his plate away and covered his face with his hands. "Can't you just shut up Malfoy! For one meal, my first meal here, can't you give us all a break and not say anything! I would think that everything that's happened to you would at least cow you somewhat! But it seems you're the same twitchy ferret as always!"
Draco tried to remind himself at that moment, that earlier in the day he'd made a conscious decision. Just that morning he'd decided that he was going to change his future. He was going to change it by actually giving himself one. He couldn't spoil that here by losing his temper. If he was going to have a chance he'd have to swallow back his anger and take this insult.
But Draco Malfoy was never very good at taking any insult. That was why he was on his feet and shouting before he even knew what he was doing. "I should just sit here and let you be in peace? Potter! Are you daft? Let you be! I'll never let you be! I won't let you be anything except maybe dead!" He leaned over the table to hiss at him. "Everything that happened to me is your fault. I warned you, I warned you last year. I won't let you get away with what you did to my family! I won't stop. I won't go away. I won't leave you alone until you're a broken, ba-"
"Blah, blah, blah!" Harry had risen to his feet also and was glaring over at Draco across the corner of the table. "You say the same rubbish every year but you never do anything! Do something about it instead of talking us all to death, Malfoy, because your voice really grates on my nerves!"
Do something about it! Draco did do something about it and without so much as a thought. His wand was out and as quickly as a spell could be said, the pitcher of juice that Mrs. Weasley had left out for them dumped itself all over Harry. A moment later, the copper container bounced off the Gryffindor's head with a dull thunk and hit the floor.
Hermione gasped and scrambled from her seat to Harry's side. "Are you okay? Harry! Let me see!" She tried to pry Harry's arms away as he wrapped them around his head with a groan.
"I'm going to kill you!" Ron shouted and launched himself at Draco. He collided with the blonde who had been watching Harry quite smugly, tackling him to the ground.
"Ron stop!" Harry had succumb to Hermione's examination until Ron had started another physical fight. "It's not worth getting into a fig-ow!"
"Sorry, Harry."
"It's not worth getting into a fight over!"
Ron paused, his fist lifted, poised to sock Draco right in the face. Malfoy looked smug, his wand jabbing against Ron's chest.
"He's going to get a notice from the Ministry anyway!" Harry brushed Hermione's hands from his head as he wiped the juice from his face with his shirt. "We're not allowed to do magic outside of school!"
"Oh that's right." The revelation made Ron smile as he looked down at Draco, pushing him into the ground once more before he got to his feet. "It is illegal isn't it. I bet the Ministry's just looking for an excuse to throw you in jail too, Malfoy!"
Draco sneered at him as he slowly picked himself up too, brushing off his clothes . He didn't say anything. He was thinking much along the same lines.
The four of them waited in silence for an owl to swoop into 12 Grimmauld place with a letter from Mafalda Hopkirk to warn Draco of his crime.
They waited. And waited.
"How long did it take you to get your letters, Harry?"
"You got letters for this, Potter?" Draco seemed to find pleasure in that. "I knew they should have expelled you long ago."
Harry gave Draco a bitter look. "Not this long."
"Well, maybe it's not coming." Looking like he'd already gotten away with it, Draco folded his arms over his chest. Getting away with breaking the law for a little while must be part of the Malfoy charm.
When a letter still hadn't arrived fifteen minutes later, Draco gave up waiting for it altogether. "Well I guess that just goes to show you." He drawled and leaving the messy kitchen behind him, he disappeared upstairs.
"It's not fair!" Ron bellowed after Draco had left, giving the pitcher on the floor a swift kick. It skittered across the floor and dented on the edge of a dresser. "How come he always gets away with everything!"
Chapter Four
"Mummy," Draco said, cracking the silence of early morning with his voice, still thick and crumbly with sleep. "Where's daddy?" He looked up from his bowl of hot cereal to his mother sipping tea idly beside him.
"Your father went to work, baby boy, just like he always does." Narcissa gave her son a warm smile and set her tea cup down, stirring in a lump of sugar with her spoon.
He watched her for a moment as he stirred, a finger hooked just inside his lower lip, before reaching towards her little bowl of sugar cubes. His fingers paused before touching one until Narcissa gave him a gentle tip of her head. Only then was it safe to help himself. He dropped his selected cube into his porridge and forced it to the bottom with his spoon before he began stirring, just like her.
"Mummy," He said again, as stirring sugar soon became tiresome. "How come, whenever I wake up early, it's never early enough to see daddy before he goes to work?"
Narcissa still smiled, reaching a hand out to smooth down some fly away hair on Draco's little head. He always looked so adorable like this, bare foot and swinging his legs, dressed in his father's shirt. "Because your father goes to work very early, when it's still dark outside. You needn't worry, baby boy, every day before he leaves, father peeks into your room and gives you a goodbye kiss."
"Oh." Draco looked back into his cereal again and began to eat. He'd ventured only a handful of bites before looking at his mother who had since moved on from tea to the Daily Prophet. "Mummy?"
When Narcissa turned the page and didn't answer him right away, Draco repeated himself sounding slightly alarmed. "Mummy!"
The elegant woman lowered the paper and finally gave him her attention. "Yes, baby boy?"
"Why?"
"Why what, Draco?"
"Why does Daddy have to get up so early to go to work?"
Narcissa was silent for a moment as she watched her son watch her, his large gray eyes and his small fists made of even smaller fingers clench on either side of his bowl. Every moment with Draco was more adorable than the one before it. "How old are you, baby boy?"
"I'm five!" He said instantly and proudly. It had taken an eternity to reach five years old.
"Well that's very old. I should start calling you big boy now instead of baby, what do you think?"
"I don't mind, mummy," her son replied and when Narcissa scooted back from the table he slid off of his chair and over to her, lifting his arms.
Narcissa scooped him up and set him into her lap. She smoothed out his hair again, brushing it from his face with her gentle fingers and then leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose. He giggled. "You'll always be my baby boy, Draco."
"But mummy," Draco rested against her soft body, looking up into his mother's face from below, his fingers curled against her morning robes. "What about daddy?"
"What about daddy!" Narcissa repeated, lowering a hand on Draco's stomach and rubbing over his belly. "Okay, baby boy, you're old enough now. I think it's about time I told you."
Sensing a big secret, Draco sat up slightly, looking at her earnestly. "About daddy?" he asked.
"Mm hm," She nodded. "You see, Draco, if daddy didn't wake up so early and leave the house, the sun would never rise."
"It wouldn't?" His eyes got so wide, Narcissa had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and ruining the whole story.
"No it wouldn't," she managed to sound serious and grave as she continued, "you see, every morning when the moon goes to sleep and the sun wakes up, it peeks out from behind the clouds and looks down onto the earth to find daddy. If daddy isn't out there, the sun will be sad and say'there aren't any Malfoys out and about today. They must have all perished while I was sleeping! What a horrible world this is now without a single Malfoy in it. There's no point in waking up now, I'll sleep forever' and it would never wake up. You wouldn't want to live in a world without the sun, would you?"
Draco shook his head 'no'. "Daddy," he said with a smile slowly growing over his face, "daddy is the most important man in the whole world isn't he?"
Narcissa smiled after a moment and then reached over the table to slide his breakfast bowl towards them. "He is very important," she agreed. "Now you need to hurry up and finish your porridge or we won't be able to go to the zoo today and watch the dragons."
****
Since returning from Azkaban Fortress, time, for Draco Malfoy, passed without any comprehension. Days were swallowed by nights and nights melted into weeks. He spent it in his room, or in the drawing room, sometimes sitting in the back yard, and even, late at night, chatting with Mrs. Black.
It wasn't time spent in depression, but rather, in thought. His mother had been in Azkaban for little over a month when he finally saw her, and already she had decayed into that thing he had witnessed through the mirror. Without the Dementors there how could this have happened? How could it have happened if not by wizard hands?
The thought of the guards at Azkaban touching and hurting his mother boiled quickly into rage in Draco's mind. The wizard that had taken him and Professor Snape to the fortress had mentioned something about developing Dementor-like charms to use on their most special "guests". Obviously, his mother had to be a product of that terrible hospitality.
It was difficult for him to admit that his mother was no longer the same woman she had been when she greeted him coming off the Express barely a blink in time ago. All of her sweetness and beauty had been worn away by the senseless, unforgiving shadows of Azkaban. It wasn't something he would ever be able to forgive.
His intentions would turn to all out war if his father turned out to be the same as his mother. When he had visited the jail, and after he'd seen his mother, he had been afraid to see Lucius and find out for sure if he had become mad or not.
Now, he wished that he had seen him, if for anything, to clear the doubt that filled his head. His father, he tried to reassure himself, was a strong and powerful man. There wasn't any way a charm made by wizard hands could break him, especially those mediocre to poor hands he'd seen at Azkaban.
Usually, this pattern of thought changed around dinner time. When the evening rose and he was still all alone in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house, he worried about his own future. The apple never falls very far from the tree, the saying went, and Draco wondered if maybe this wasn't true. Were the eyes of his mother his own eyes in twenty or twenty five years? Maybe even five years, the future was so startlingly close.
His trip to Azkaban finally forced Draco to worry about what he should have spent years before worrying about. Voldemort. Even though simply thinking the name made Draco wince, he forced himself to confront it now. He laid on his back, askew in bed with his feet lifted up and crawling along the wall towards the ceiling. He thought about his future with the Dark Lord.
His family was bound to You-Know-Who in a way that couldn't be escaped, but at the same time Draco decided to make the conscious decision to not end up like his father and mother had. He wouldn't blindly follow He Who Must Not Be Named like his father before him. He wouldn't have the same future that his parents shared, rotting in jail at the mercy of sods not even worthy of cleaning his toilet.
Stretching his arms out before him, fingers spread and lacing together, he let his legs slide down the wall and back to the mattress of his bed. To show him just what he shouldn't do, what he shouldn't become, would be the last lesson his father and mother would ever teach him.
****
For Hermione and Ron, Operation Potter had started with a Bang! and hadn't lost steam since. They had begun with casual hints, mentioning Harry's name when they cleaned, saying how much faster things would go if he were there.
Then over dinner they would recall their funny Harry At Dinner anecdotes and whenever anyone said or did anything interesting or funny one of the two Gryffindors was sure to echo 'Harry would really like to hear that!' or "Oh, boy! If Harry had seen that...".
The adults were starting to get the message. Although their banter had been funny the first few times around now, whenever Harry's name was mentioned, it was followed by rolling eyes.
It was the rolling eyes that made Ron and Hermione decide it was time to move on to the next phase of operations. It was why they'd spent most of their morning after breakfast in the drawing room creating a Harry of their very own.
Using Ron's school uniform they constructed a body around a broom spine, filling Ron's clothes with balled up shirts and socks to form a torso. A pair of gardening gloves served as hands, Ron's stuffed shoes for feet, and somewhere in the house they'd found a pair of old glasses to slip through the stiff bristles of the broom to make up Harry's face. By the time it was finished, although it wasn't as perfect as it could have been with the help of magic, the effigy was something to behold.
It had easily been one of the most amusing experiences of their life, especially when Ron started talking to the broom as if it really were their friend, apologizing as he shoved his hands down Harry's clothes. Hermione laughed and laughed. Both of them worked very hard to keep busy. If their hands and minds were occupied, no discussion of the kiss would have to take place.
"You know, Hermione," Ron said with a smile as he reclined on the Harry they'd completed. "He's pretty comfy! True there are a few lumps that need straightening out," he gave Harry's side a punch to illustrate, "but after that I think he'd make a pretty good pillow."
"Oh, Ron! I'm telling Harry you said that!"
"Don't you dare!" Ron growled and got to his knees as both he and Hermione perched over Harry on the floor, each crouching on one stuffed side. "Don't listen to her Harry! She's full of lies! Full of lies and deceit!"
"I am not, Harry you know that!" Hermione pushed Ron lightly aside before clasping her hands against her chest and looking down into Harry's spectacles earnestly. "Ron's just using you, Harry! All this time he's tricked us! He's been pretending to be our friend when all he really wants is to use you as a pillow!"
"Lies! Lies! It's all lies! Harry, don't fall prey to her feminine wiles!"
Hermione shrieked in dismay as Ron said that. "How could you! All of my secrets! All my secrets laid bare! You don't believe him, Harry, do you? Do you? I would never use me being a girl to get what I wanted from a man!"
Still hovering over the broom, their banter stopped suddenly as both of them looked up and towards the door as movement caught their eye. It was Draco staring at them with a disturbed look on his face.
Draco looked at Hermione and Ron.
Ron and Hermione looked back.
Draco glanced towards Harry, lying pinned between the two.
Harry, who had no real eyes behind those glasses, didn't look at anything.
Without a word passed between them, the Slytherin turned around and went back down the hall and soon, was out of sight.
Hermione and Ron burst out laughing.
"Did you see?" Ron wailed with laughter, holding his sides as he leaned against the leg of a sofa. "Did you see his face! I've never seen a face like that before, the was the best horrified slash disturbed slash shocked face I've ever seen in my entire life!"
Hermione's face was red with giggling, her grin pressed behind her hands as she sat down on Harry's thigh. "I saw it, I saw it!"
As their laughter died down, Hermione bounced lightly on her seat and looked at Ron. "You know, I think your right, he is pretty comfy!"
"I told you! I told you!" He turned towards Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "You heard her. You're witness."
"Oh, stop it." Rolling her eyes, Hermione glanced again the doorway that Draco had appeared in and then disappeared from. "Hey, Ron," she began.
Ron, who followed her gaze and thoughts very well, groaned. "Not again, Hermione, please don't say something about Malfoy again."
"What do you mean 'not again'?" Hermione complained getting to her feet. "Have you seen him lately? Something happened to him! Wherever Snape took him it wasn't good. He hasn't said anything nasty to us in weeks!"
"I can't believe you're actually complaining about that! Hermione, he hasn't said much of anything in weeks." Ron corrected.
"Well see? See what I mean? That isn't normal especially not for him. I don't suppose you've realized that with his life changed like this, there just might be a chance for him to switch sides, also!"
"So? So what?"
"So! So that's one less Death Eater we'd have to worry about! And you know how annoyingly persistent Malfoy is. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to deal with that for once?" Hermione had assumed her stubborn hand-on-hip pose, glaring down at Ron the way his mother glared at him.
It made him cringe slightly as he took a seat on the couch, folding his arms over his chest. "Sure it would be nice to not have to deal with him, but I'd rather it be because he wasn't around at all! If you ask me, the Ministry should have shipped him off to Antarctica or something!"
"Ron," Hermione lowered her hands slowly and she softened her face. "I really think you're being too hard on him."
"And I think you're being too soft to him!" Ron, who wasn't going to be swayed by Hermione's doe eyes, looked in another direction. "I know. We'll let Harry decide what we do. He's the voice of reason."
"The voice of reason? You didn't just say that did you?" Hermione dead panned. "Isn't he the one who gave you the idea to fly your father's car to Hogwarts in second year?"
"Actually," Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "That was my idea."
"I should have known." Hermione said acidly. "But the point remains that he went along with it! Harry's always running around getting into trouble without thinking things through first. Remember when you two followed those spiders into the Forbidden Forest? Remember the time–"
Ron interrupted her before she could continue, his heckles rising. "Forget about Harry, what about you, Hermione!" He jabbed a finger at her.
"Me? What about me!" Her voice was rising too.
"You're not that bloody brilliant either, you know! You get into just as much trouble as the rest of us. What makes it worse is with you, you actually do think things through first and still end up over your head!"
"I do not! Like what?"
"Well since you brought up second year, how about when you went and got yourself petrified! You knew it was a Basilisk but you just had to see it for yourself didn't you? So you went creeping around without us peeking around corners with mirrors! That's really using your head!"
Hermione turned scarlet but before she had a chance to reply, someone else broke in from the doorway "You two just really fall apart without me here to keep you cool, don't you?"
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione cried at the same time. Maybe Operation Potter had worked more smoothly than they thought it would!
Hermione was the first on him, wrapping her arms around the real Harry in a hug so tight it made him squeak. Ron grinned broadly and although he didn't hug Harry (that just wouldn't be manly), he clapped him roughly on the back. "It's about bloody time you got here, mate!"
"Yeah," Harry replied, lowering his arms from Hermione as the girl stepped away. He held onto her shoulder and took Ron's too, giving them a little shake before letting them go completely. "I didn't think I was supposed to be picked up for a long time yet so imagine my surprise when your mum and dad showed up almost a month early, Ron! Apparently," behind his glasses, Harry's green eyes drifted past them to the crude version of himself on the floor "some people just couldn't stand to live without me."
Ron looked over his shoulder at the figure and laughed lightly, Hermione blushed. "Well, what can we say. Operation Potter was a big success!"
"Operation Potter?" Harry gave them both a weird look, not that they needed to do any explaining. They'd all managed to do some pretty strange things together over the years as it was.
Hermione crouched by the broom Harry and lifted him up, holding him out towards the real thing with a smile. "Do you think we should set him up in the kitchen just to freak out Ron's mum when she goes in there to make dinner?"
"Let's do it!" Ron agreed eagerly without hesitation and the four of them snuck out of the drawing room to do just that and then wait for the results of their labor to unfold in Ron's room.
It took longer than Ron would have liked it to to fill Harry in on everything that had happened since Harry had been cut off from the wizarding world a month and a half ago when school had let out. It wasn't that there was so much news to report as much as it was Hermione wanting to talk about Malfoy. In the end, nothing about the out of place border at 12 Grimmauld Place was decided.
Harry wanted to talk a lot about Sirius. Both Hermione and even Ron were keen enough to notice the sleepless bruises beneath Harry's eyes and the sad hint in all of his smiles. He'd told them that he was finally having dreams that weren't Voldemort dreams, but at the same time, for once he wished he wasn't.
Hermione had listened to all of this with her arms around Harry's shoulder and her head resting against his. Ron, who wasn't quite sure what to say, spent a lot of time saying nothing and looking forlorn and useless at his shoes.
That was why Mrs. Weasley's scream came with a much needed break of comedic relief. For once, her fright wasn't followed by a cry of 'Fred and George Weasley!' but this time "Ronald Weasley! You get down here and dismantle this creepy thing this instant!"
****
That evening, when Hermione, Ron, and Harry assembled for dinner they learned some very promising news. Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them, although she looked a bit pressed for time. She'd made sure the evening meal was set out and that they'd have everything they needed before turning to the group "Arthur and I are going to meet Tonks in London along with the rest of the Order." she explained. "That means you three...or rather, you four, will be on your own tonight. Hermione, as the woman of the house, I'm leaving the kitchen up to you. I know you'll delegate responsibility properly. If you can, try and get Draco to eat, hm? He's looking a bit thin lately."
She left in a disorganized flurry only to reappear a second time moments later. "And Harry," She seemed to calm down slightly as she said his name, reaching out to touch his head and attempt to smooth his wild hair. "We're really glad to have you here again."
"Thanks." Harry smiled warmly at her in return. "I'm glad to be here, too."
Molly pulled Harry into a light motherly hug while addressing the other two, especially Ron if the direction of her gaze said anything. "Make sure you're in bed by midnight, you've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow!" Releasing Harry, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen and then the house successfully, without having to return again.
"Glad that's over." As the front door closed finally for the last time, Ron allowed himself to slump in his seat. "It's really tough since Fred and George moved out. Ginny n' me are the only ones left in the house. I think it's really starting to get to my mum."
"Where is Ginny anyway?" Harry had noticed rather quickly that the youngest Weasley wasn't around as she always seemed to be.
Hermione opened the pans Mrs. Weasley had set on the table and began to dish out portions. "She's staying with some of her friends over the summer, right Ron?"
"Yeah," he replied blandly. He was more intent on his plate being filled with Shepard's pie and buttery green beans than talking about his little sister. "Not that I mind, only that it means that I get hollered at every time something goes wrong."
"Well, Ron," Hermione calculated as she set down the plate in front of him, "if something goes wrong and there's no one else in the house but you and your parents, then shouldn't you get yelled at anyway? You're the only cause left."
The way her smile beamed at him made Ron growl. "No, Hermione, there's so much clutter everywhere at the Burrow, who knows what else lives there with us."
Harry laughed.
"My, my." The drawl of Draco Malfoy was unmistakable. "If this isn't the most touching family portrait ever. Although, I'm not sure but, I think polygamy is illegal in England. Sorry Granger."
It wasn't a surprise to anyone when Draco took a seat at the head of the table.
"Oh great," Ron complained loudly. "Who moved Malfoy's rock on the way down here? I told you all to be careful or he'd crawl out!"
"Funny, Weasley." Draco dragged the dinner casserole towards him, helping himself. "Slop again, I see," he said as a spoonful of dinner plopped lifelessly onto his plate. "I know the three of you are probably used to it by now but I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts. I can't take much more of this swill day in and day out."
"You are such a clod, Malfoy!" Hermione snapped at him. "Can't you say anything nice for once in your life?"
"Believe me, Granger, I try but..." He took a bite of the pie, making a face as he chewed. "The three of you really don't provide much material."
"Merlin, just shut up." Harry sounded tired, trying to break up the argument for once instead of perpetuating it. "Can't we just enjoy a meal without having to bicker and snipe at each other like little kids?"
Hermione beamed at Harry for being so mature.
"I don't know, Potter." Draco wasn't ready to give Harry a break as he lifted another fork full of the dinner and let it dribble back down onto the plate. "I don't know if there's a charm strong enough to make me enjoy this."
Draco was more than a little annoyed, he found, when Harry chose to watch his plate instead of look over at him. What was with this sudden fad of apathy? He had really been looking forward to getting in a good row with Potter once he'd found out that he'd finally came to 12 Grimmauld Place instead of simply being a part of an eavesdropped discussion.
"So," Draco, who couldn't stand the sound of silence not filled by his own voice, began anew, "where'd the Order of the Idiots go tonight that they can't be here to enjoy this sludge with us?"
The Slytherin lit up slightly as he finally got a reaction out of Harry, the boy groaning as he pushed his plate away and covered his face with his hands. "Can't you just shut up Malfoy! For one meal, my first meal here, can't you give us all a break and not say anything! I would think that everything that's happened to you would at least cow you somewhat! But it seems you're the same twitchy ferret as always!"
Draco tried to remind himself at that moment, that earlier in the day he'd made a conscious decision. Just that morning he'd decided that he was going to change his future. He was going to change it by actually giving himself one. He couldn't spoil that here by losing his temper. If he was going to have a chance he'd have to swallow back his anger and take this insult.
But Draco Malfoy was never very good at taking any insult. That was why he was on his feet and shouting before he even knew what he was doing. "I should just sit here and let you be in peace? Potter! Are you daft? Let you be! I'll never let you be! I won't let you be anything except maybe dead!" He leaned over the table to hiss at him. "Everything that happened to me is your fault. I warned you, I warned you last year. I won't let you get away with what you did to my family! I won't stop. I won't go away. I won't leave you alone until you're a broken, ba-"
"Blah, blah, blah!" Harry had risen to his feet also and was glaring over at Draco across the corner of the table. "You say the same rubbish every year but you never do anything! Do something about it instead of talking us all to death, Malfoy, because your voice really grates on my nerves!"
Do something about it! Draco did do something about it and without so much as a thought. His wand was out and as quickly as a spell could be said, the pitcher of juice that Mrs. Weasley had left out for them dumped itself all over Harry. A moment later, the copper container bounced off the Gryffindor's head with a dull thunk and hit the floor.
Hermione gasped and scrambled from her seat to Harry's side. "Are you okay? Harry! Let me see!" She tried to pry Harry's arms away as he wrapped them around his head with a groan.
"I'm going to kill you!" Ron shouted and launched himself at Draco. He collided with the blonde who had been watching Harry quite smugly, tackling him to the ground.
"Ron stop!" Harry had succumb to Hermione's examination until Ron had started another physical fight. "It's not worth getting into a fig-ow!"
"Sorry, Harry."
"It's not worth getting into a fight over!"
Ron paused, his fist lifted, poised to sock Draco right in the face. Malfoy looked smug, his wand jabbing against Ron's chest.
"He's going to get a notice from the Ministry anyway!" Harry brushed Hermione's hands from his head as he wiped the juice from his face with his shirt. "We're not allowed to do magic outside of school!"
"Oh that's right." The revelation made Ron smile as he looked down at Draco, pushing him into the ground once more before he got to his feet. "It is illegal isn't it. I bet the Ministry's just looking for an excuse to throw you in jail too, Malfoy!"
Draco sneered at him as he slowly picked himself up too, brushing off his clothes . He didn't say anything. He was thinking much along the same lines.
The four of them waited in silence for an owl to swoop into 12 Grimmauld place with a letter from Mafalda Hopkirk to warn Draco of his crime.
They waited. And waited.
"How long did it take you to get your letters, Harry?"
"You got letters for this, Potter?" Draco seemed to find pleasure in that. "I knew they should have expelled you long ago."
Harry gave Draco a bitter look. "Not this long."
"Well, maybe it's not coming." Looking like he'd already gotten away with it, Draco folded his arms over his chest. Getting away with breaking the law for a little while must be part of the Malfoy charm.
When a letter still hadn't arrived fifteen minutes later, Draco gave up waiting for it altogether. "Well I guess that just goes to show you." He drawled and leaving the messy kitchen behind him, he disappeared upstairs.
"It's not fair!" Ron bellowed after Draco had left, giving the pitcher on the floor a swift kick. It skittered across the floor and dented on the edge of a dresser. "How come he always gets away with everything!"