For now, enjoy the second chapter!
Chapter Two: Old Family Rivalries"Ron!"
"Connor! Happy birthday, mate!"
Harry concealed a smile as he watched Ron and Connor rush together as if they'd been separated for a year instead of a few weeks. They didn't seem to quite know what to do when they'd reached each other, but they settled for one-armed hugs and slapping on the back. Then Connor stepped back and peered around Ron at the other Weasleys, who had met them just outside the brick wall at the back of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Gred and Forge," he said, with a grin, which Harry thought was probably a private joke that he didn't get. "Invented anything interesting lately?"
"Yes," said one of the twins at once. Harry had never learned how to tell them apart, since he hadn't spent enough time in Gryffindor Tower last year. He resolved to do it this term. It would help keep him from becoming more Slytherin, and that was all to the good, after the extremes to which Professor Snape had been willing to take his "persuasion" last year. "Try it." He held out a flat yellow cake to Connor, who eyed it nervously.
"Uh—no thanks, George," he said.
"I'm Fred," said the twin.
"No, I'm Fred," said the other.
Connor laughed along with Ron. Harry watched. He sometimes wished he could be as easy around other people as his twin was. Connor had adapted wonderfully well when he had to leave Godric's Hollow and go into the wider wizarding world. Things that others had taken for granted he learned to take for granted, too, even if he never appeared all that comfortable with his fame.
But then Harry pushed away his yearning for a life that couldn't be, and reminded himself that it was better this way. If he really were in the middle of everyone like that, he would have to pay too much attention to other people. This way, he could watch out for Connor.
"Connor, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, embracing Harry's brother hard enough to squeeze the rest of the air out of him. Harry studied her face for a moment. He knew she had lost two brothers in the first war against Voldemort. But she didn't show any trace of buried sadness. Perhaps the loss had been long enough ago that she had gotten over it. "I'm so glad that your parents agreed to let you come." She looked up at Lily and James then, and extended a hand, with a slightly nervous smile. "Molly Weasley. This is my husband Arthur." She nodded to the red-haired and slightly chubby man beside her, who was engaged in reassuring an anxious-looking red-haired girl, probably his daughter. He looked up, abashed, when his wife hissed at him, and moved forward to offer his hand.
"James Potter," said their father with an easy smile, and clasped Arthur's hand back. "This is my wife Lily." Their mother nodded, her eyes scanning the way that Connor stood between the twins and Ron. Her face relaxed a second later when the girl eased nearer to Connor. Harry understood. Surrounded by so many people, his twin made a harder target to strike.
"You'll have heard of our son Ron, of course," Molly Weasley was fussing. "And this is our daughter Ginny. She's just starting at Hogwarts this year." Ginny ducked her head and flushed, hard enough to make her face compete with her hair. "These are our twins, Fred and George—" She pointed, a trifle uncertainly.
"Wrong again, Mum," said the twin on the left. "I'm George."
Molly Weasley ignored him, to her credit, Harry thought, and indicated the older Weasley boy who'd just stepped up behind Arthur, his hands calmly folded in front of him. "And this is our son Percy," she said, pride unmistakable in her voice. "He's a sixth-year, and a Gryffindor prefect, aren't you, Percy, dear?"
Percy nodded. Harry stared at him for a long moment. Percy had huge dark circles under his eyes, and his hands weren't really folded so much as clenched. He looked as though he had been under some great strain or worry lately. But his voice was calm and polite as he said, "Yes, Mother. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Potter." He took Lily's hand, and she stared keenly into his eyes for a long moment before smiling.
"It's nice to meet you as well, Percy," she said quietly, and then steered Harry forward with a hand on his shoulder. "This is our other son, Harry. He's coming back for his second year at Hogwarts, along with Connor."
Mrs. Weasley blinked at Harry, then said, to cover her confusion, "Oh, how nice." She paused for a long moment, then said, "I didn't know that you had another son."
James coughed and leaned around Lily to mess up Harry's hair. "Harry's our quiet boy," he said fondly. "He's Connor's twin, but you'd never know it, they're so different. Our Harry likes books and studying, don't you, Harry?"
Harry smiled back at their father. This was the way that things were supposed to be going. Harry often got the feeling that James loved him without quite understanding him. How could anyone not want to spend more time playing Quidditch and pranks than sitting around with dusty old books? But that was to be expected, since he didn't know about Harry's efforts to protect Connor. "Yes, Father," he said.
When he glanced back at Mrs. Weasley, her face had cleared a bit. "Percy was the same way as a child," she confessed, in that whisper that was never a whisper.
"Mother," said Percy, in long-suffering tones. Harry regarded him again. His face was still strained, and his cheery smile emphasized that instead of hiding it. Harry supposed it was family problems, which everyone else knew about and was ignoring. There was no law saying that the Weasleys had to share all their secrets with the Potters, or that Connor, if he knew, had to share the whole thing with his family.
"But you must be in Gryffindor, surely," Mrs. Weasley prattled on, ignoring her son. "Why hasn't Ron talked about you in his letters at all?" She frowned at her youngest son, who was currently daring Connor to eat one of the twins' cakes.
"I'm in Slytherin House, ma'am," said Harry softly.
He winced inwardly as the shine of her eyes dimmed a bit, but he told himself that he had to expect it. He didn't think that he could change his House, not any more; Dumbledore wouldn't permit it. But he could act as like a Gryffindor as possible. That was what he would do now.
Why would you want to? Sylarana asked him.
"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, after a long, awkward silence. "How…nice." She perked up after a moment, though, and clapped her hands to gather her family together. "We're going to buy robes first, of course," she said, to the accompaniment of her children's groans. "But then we can go to Florian Fortescue's, I think." She smiled as Connor cheered. Harry smiled, too. Neither of their parents was particularly adept at the charms to make ice cream. "And from there, it's a surprise!"
She glanced at Harry. "You're welcome to come with us, dear."
Harry shook his head. "Thank you, ma'am, but I'm meeting friends."
Molly nodded, and then she and Arthur, who had been involved in a discussion of Quidditch with James, began to herd Connor off. Lily waited until they were almost out of sight, then turned to James.
"Sirius is following them?"
James snorted lightly. "Of course. He didn't work as an Auror for nothing, Lily."
"He didn't stay an Auror," said Lily, with a tartness that Harry had never heard in their mother's voice before. Of course, he thought, when Connor was behind the wards at home, his safety didn't depend on Sirius alone.
"That wasn't his fault," James said at once. "If Mrs. Zabini could only take a joke—"
"Regardless," Lily all but snapped. "He's following Connor?"
"Yes, my love," said James, gathering his wife close. "Of course. You don't need to look so worried."
Harry thought she did. This was the middle of Diagon Alley, and it seemed as though half the wizarding community in Britain had chosen today to shop. Still, they could probably trust Connor's safety to the Weasleys and Sirius for now, and they would have to, since Connor wouldn't want his parents tagging along and Harry couldn't follow openly.
"Harry!"
Startled, Harry had only half-turned when Draco Malfoy crashed into him, hugging him at least as tightly as Mrs. Weasley had hugged Connor. Draco then abruptly loosened the embrace and tried to offer his hand the way a pureblooded heir would, his face slightly flushed with excitement and his eyes shining. "Harry Potter," he said. "I welcome you to Diagon Alley on this, the occasion of your birth."
Harry blinked, but returned Draco's handclasp. "Thank you, Draco," he said. He found himself smiling nearly helplessly. It made no sense. The Malfoys were one of the greatest threats to Connor, and Lucius Malfoy had been a willing Death Eater—no matter what Draco thought on that particular subject—and they were all Slytherins to the core, and Draco had even made it his task to insure that Harry spent as little time with his brother as possible during the school year. Harry could think about all that when he was in Godric's Hollow, and scourge himself for allowing the friendship. But when he was with Draco, none of it tended to matter.
"Mr. Potter."
Harry turned swiftly at that. Lucius Malfoy was making his way towards them with leisurely hauteur, his wife Narcissa on his arm. Narcissa smiled when she saw Harry, the odd mixture of predatory interest and warmth that she had shown him during the Christmas holidays, when Harry had last seen her. Lucius locked his eyes on Harry's and inclined his head slightly in a bow.
His gaze moved on to James and Lily, and grew icy. "Mr. Potter, again," he murmured. "And the lovely Mrs. Potter."
Harry glanced at their parents, and was startled at the transformation. Sometimes, he tended to forget that they had both fought against Voldemort, enough times to have made their destruction a priority for the Death Eaters. James had his wand out, and was trembling with the need to strike. Lily had her arms folded. Harry knew she could be ready to hurl spells in an instant from that position.
"Don't you hurt my son," James growled. "Don't you dare hurt him, Malfoy."
Lucius blinked. Harry had the feeling that he was truly discomfited, and tucked that odd fact away for future reference. However, it turned out he didn't need to, as Draco's father arched his brows and explained the blink at once. "I have no intention of hurting your son," he said, and his gaze swept back to Harry. "Young Mr. Potter impressed me very much on his visit to our Manor. We understand each other." He looked at James again. "I admit to being impressed that you could raise him in such a fashion, Potter. More wizarding than I suspected of you."
Harry winced. The backhanded compliments weren't that cutting, compared to some of the things Lucius had said at the Manor, but James had a hot temper.
James actually pointed his wand and began, "Diff—"
"Expelliarmus!" Lily said clearly, and her husband's wand soared into her hands. She frowned at him. "Honestly, James." She turned back to Lucius and Narcissa, and while her manner was no warmer than it had been, at least Harry felt sure she wasn't about to hex them. "Please forgive my husband," she said. "He sometimes has…problems being reminded of things he would rather forget." She flickered another frown at James when he tried to protest under his breath.
"Of course," said Lucius, the picture of courtly grace. One would never know that he's talking to someone he thinks of as a Mudblood, Harry thought, watching him. He felt a tiny bit of admiration; he knew how hard it was to maintain that emotionless mask, since he'd needed to perfect it himself. "We should depart, in any case, if we are to buy the boys' school supplies and Harry's birthday gift."
Harry stared openly. "Mr. Malfoy," he managed to say after a moment, "thank you, but that's really not necessary—"
"Of course it is, Harry," said Narcissa, her smile widening across her face. Her voice was gentle, the exact opposite of her eyes. "Draco has talked about your birthday for most of the summer, until we are quite excited about it ourselves. I would feel so remiss if we did not give you a gift. Please, will you come with us and let us have the gift of presenting you with a small token of our esteem?"
Harry knew of absolutely no way to refuse something like that without the most appalling rudeness, so he managed to duck his head and murmur, "Of course, Mrs. Malfoy."
"Such a polite boy," said Narcissa, and nodded to Lily and James. "A credit to his training."
Neither of their parents appeared to know how to respond to that one, so they let it go. Lily did say, as she turned away, "Harry, we'll be in Flourish and Blotts when you're done."
"All right, Mother," Harry said.
Draco waited until they had rounded the corner before he burst out with, "That's appalling, Harry. Do they always treat you like that? And what about family friends? Do they always stare at them as if they were something the Kneazle dragged in? As if—"
"Draco," said Narcissa, in the mild way she had, and Draco cut off. He fumed, red-faced, for a moment, and then brightened.
"Wait until you see what we bought you, Harry! It's wonderful. And you can't guess what it is! Go on, guess!"
Why does he think that you can guess what it is when he just told you that you couldn't? Sylarana hissed into his mind. This one is my second choice for someone to bite, if I cannot find your brother. He is spitting on me. Tell him to stop it.
Harry spoke a few hasty compliments and drew his robe's sleeve over his left arm, to shield Sylarana from Draco's spittle. He caught Lucius Malfoy's eye as he did, and the raised eyebrow. He met the elder Malfoy's curious gaze with a cool one, and then turned back to guessing.
"A—a Snitch," he said.
Draco looked alarmed for a moment, then laughed and shook his head. "No! I want you to concentrate on catching the real one."
"Another owl?" Harry guessed.
"You already have Hedwig." Draco danced in front of him as they moved further down the Alley. "Go on, guess!"
Harry continued to guess, as well as to reassure Sylarana. It wasn't the easiest task in the world, and for once, he was grateful that he didn't have Connor around to take up his attention.
He was especially grateful that his brother wasn't there when he saw what the Malfoys had bought him.
"I—I can't accept it, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry stammered, staring down at the Nimbus 2001 broomstick that he held in his hands. "It's too much. Please. I can't—I feel embarrassed. I haven't done anything to deserve this." He tried to push the broomstick back at the beaming shopkeeper who'd brought it out from the back of Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Narcissa seized it before the shopkeeper's beam could change into a frown, and pressed it gently back at Harry. She handled it with such reverence that Harry felt ashamed of his clumsiness, and this time cupped his palms to receive it, as one was supposed to with a gift of such great price. But he continued to shake his head and try to say something, at least until Narcissa leaned down and put a finger on his lips.
"It's true that you've given us no gift of equivalent price, Harry," she said gently. Her smile reminded him of Sirius's when he had played a particularly good prank, but with a different twist to it. "You've given us something greater." She glanced sideways at Draco, who was examining the broom in silent rapture, and lowered her voice. "I have never seen my son so happy as he was this summer."
Harry blinked. "And you think I had something to do with that, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"Quite the contrary," she said. "You had everything to do with it." She tossed her head at Lucius, who had remained near the front of the shop. "My husband knows so, too, and that is one of the reasons that we agreed on this gift."
Harry stiffened at that. The Malfoys had all given him different gifts for Christmas last year, all with subtly different meanings. Lucius's had been a Foe-Glass, an ironic salute to an honored enemy. That he had agreed on this broom, which seemed to be a gift of friendship, if Narcissa was telling the truth…
Harry did not know what that meant, not exactly. He did know it would be an insult to the Malfoys if he didn't accept it.
He nodded and let out a deep breath. "I'll accept it, then," he said, his voice slightly hoarse to his own ears. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."
Narcissa kissed him on the cheek, and nodded to the shopkeeper, who once more wore a smile. "We'll take it." She smiled at him. "Happy birthday, Harry."
"I can't wait to ride it," said Draco dreamily.
I still want to bite him, Sylarana pointed out.
Lucius stared from the front of the shop.
Harry spared a brief moment to hope that things would be simpler when he got to Hogwarts, or else he did fear that he would go mad.
"Such a commotion," said Lucius, curling his lip, as they came into Flourish and Blotts a few hours later.
Harry had to agree. Apparently, some new celebrity was advertising his books here, and the shop was full of excited witches, crowded in to see him, craning their necks and cooing like doves.
Harry made out the "celebrity," Gilderoy Lockhart, before he saw his parents. He stood on a stage in the center of the shop, waving to the constant click of cameras and now and then holding up a copy of a book entitled Magical Me. Harry curled his lip much as Lucius had. Lockhart looked like everything negative about a famous person distilled. Harry would not be surprised if—
Then Lockhart lunged downward, saying, "Two celebrities for the price of one!" and dragged Connor onto the stage beside him. Harry's brother stood there, looking extremely uncomfortable, while Lockhart hugged his shoulders with one arm and beamed out a smile too white to be real. Cameras clicked and flashed constantly. Connor blinked.
Harry's irritation reshaped itself into rage. He felt Draco wince beside him, the way he always did when Harry grew angry. He'd tried over the summer to find some way to confine his magic behind a shield, so that he didn't give other wizards headaches when he lost his temper, but that hadn't worked so far.
And right now he wasn't concerned about it. He focused on the cameras aimed at the stage and whispered, "Obscurus!"
The cameras continued to click, but no flashes came from them anymore. Lockhart's smile dropped away. He took a few steps forward and waved Magical Me half-heartedly, as though that would make new pictures of him appear out of thin air. Connor took the chance to hop off the stage and back into the comforting embrace of the Weasleys.
Harry smiled, then paused. Was that a smirk?
That was good work, said Sylarana. Now, hurry up and get home. I want food, and I don't want to bite someone just yet.
Draco chuckled beside him, and thumped Harry on the back. "Good spellcasting," he said. "I hope that utter prat isn't really going to be our Defense teacher."
"Draco," said Narcissa. "You will show respect to your professors."
Draco turned and gave his mother an innocent look. "Even to him?"
Narcissa's lips twitched, and Draco beamed. Harry relaxed, though he had what Draco had said to think about. He hadn't connected Gilderoy Lockhart's name to the one on their list of books to be purchased this year. He didn't like the thought of this man coming to Hogwarts and continuing to harass Connor.
He forced himself to shrug it away. I'll deal with that if and when it comes.
He and Draco went about getting their books and loading them into their cauldrons. Harry was resigned when he found out that most of them were, in fact, Lockhart's books. He supposed that the Defense teacher couldn't be worse than Quirrell. He couldn't picture Voldemort hiding on the back of that useless fool's head.
"Harry!"
Harry turned around with a smile as Connor found him, though Connor paused, eyes flashing, at the sight of Draco beside him. Then his glance went to the Lockhart books, and he sighed. "We're going to have to deal with him, aren't we?" he asked.
"Yes," Harry said.
Connor pouted.
Arthur Weasley came up behind Connor, herding Ginny along. He smiled at Harry. "I see that you boys found—"
"Weasley," said Lucius's voice from behind Harry.
Arthur's gaze snapped to him, and he reacted much the way James had, though he didn't actually draw his wand. "Malfoy," he said, face clouding. "What do you want? Come to practice your sneer in warmer surroundings? I suppose one can't stay in a Manor packed full of Dark artifacts all the time."
"Your Aurors' latest search found nothing, Weasley," said Lucius. "And that's the way it will remain." He shook his head slowly, sadly. "You cannot let grudges go from the war. Tsk, tsk, Weasley. We are on the same side now."
"You were never on anyone's side but your own, Lucius, you snake," said Arthur, and took a step forward.
"I am, at least, on the side of my own family," said Lucius. He looked at Ginny, who seemed to be trying to will herself out of existence, and raised an eyebrow. "For example, I can afford to buy them robes that fit."
Arthur lunged at Lucius, shoving him into the bookcase behind him. Harry jumped out of the way, checked to make sure Connor was all right, and then shielded Draco and Ginny from the falling books as best he could. Ginny's face was pale when he stood up, but she nodded that she was all right when Harry asked her.
Lucius rose, brushing dust off his robes, his face carefully controlled. "You will pay for that, Weasley," he said. "Be assured. Come, Draco, Narcissa." He completely ignored his son's half-formed protest, and Draco gave Harry a disconsolate look and one final hug before trailing after his father.
Lucius passed behind Ginny as he stalked towards the door. His hand moved, snake-quick, and dropped a small black book into her cauldron.
Harry made his decision quickly. He didn't think that anything Lucius Malfoy might drop into a Weasley child's cauldron was innocent, his friendship with Draco notwithstanding. Draco was not his father. He darted his own hand in a moment later and picked up the book, putting it underneath his robe.
Lucius turned in time to catch the motion. He stared at Harry. Harry stared back.
Lucius shook his head, smiling faintly, after a moment, and then turned and left the shop. Narcissa moved after him, murmuring a farewell to Harry, a moment before Lily and James found him and Connor and bundled them back to Godric's Hollow as swiftly as possible.
Harry held onto the book. He didn't know what it was, but he would study it until he did.
"Dear? You're smirking."
Lucius smiled at his wife and murmured, "I'm well," before he returned to his private contemplations.
He hadn't planned for the Potter boy to receive the book that he'd held onto since fetching it from a secret hiding place on discreet instructions last Christmas, but it could be interesting. Lucius wasn't sure exactly what was in the book, only that at one time it had been very important to the Dark Lord. He'd thought it amusing to give it to the youngest child of a man he had good reason to hate.
And now it was in the hands of the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived, a boy who had shown himself formidably powerful and unexpectedly educated in pureblood courtesies—and unexpectedly important to Draco.
One could do worse, Lucius thought as he and his family made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron and the nearest Apparition point, than to have it in such a child's hands. At the very least, the results will be interesting.