Lunch with the Malfoys – and indeed the rest of the day with them – was very informative. If their appearance alone had not been enough, the sheer breadth and depth of their knowledge made it clear that their family had status in the wizarding world. They were also very astute guides, effortlessly explaining everything Harry needed for his first year and giving recommendations on all kinds of subjects, from what potions ingredients he would need the most to books that would help them all get caught up with history and what was happening in the wizarding world.

Lucius seemed especially pleased that all of them, but mostly Harry, were showing an interest in the traditions of the wizarding world as they stood, rather than thinking they should be changed to be more like the muggle one. "We have problems with that now," he told them, "Muggleborns entering our world and seeing our culture and traditions, and calling them wrong, dark, evil, demanding they be changed or outlawed. There are enough people who cater to their desires or even outright agree with them, and so the changes are made, but then the muggleborns leave our world, and use their magic for their own gain in the muggle world, leaving us stuck with the consequences."

On their way home with Harry's supplies, Will said, "He sided with the Dark Lord."

"You're sure?" Hannibal stated more than asked, looking up from a book on wizarding politics.

"Absolutely. The way he spoke about muggleborn witches and wizards and wizarding culture, and then in Ollivander's I'm positive he was about to call Harry's mother a slur – or something that is a slur to wizards. The respect was real, though. He acknowledged her power. So did Narcissa."

"Is he a danger to Harry?" Hannibal asked quietly.

Will was silent for a moment. "Not yet," he said finally, "He thinks his lord is gone, and so he has more to gain from being our friend than our foe. He seems to think that if Harry shows enough interest in the 'Old Ways,' he'll be able to use his apparent fame to drum up support and get restrictions removed."

"You think we should let him."

"I think he's in a perfect position to help us keep Harry, stop this Dumbledore from taking him even with the blood adoption. If this is all it takes-" He jerked his head toward the back seat, where both of their children were reading different books on wizarding history and comparing notes. "-I say we go for it.

"A cupboard under the stairs, Hannibal. He was living in a cupboard, being treated like a servant, and Dumbledore never once checked on him! He might not even know we have him!"

"I know. I've done many monstrous things throughout the years, this I will never deny… but nothing like that."

"And if you ever so much as think about it, I'll eat you alive," the man hissed.

"Oh, dearest…"

"And you will not enjoy it."

They corresponded regularly with the Malfoy family over the rest of the summer, and even arranged for a short "playdate." The adults talked shop in one of the many parlors in the Malfoy mansion, while the younger ones wandered the grounds, exchanging stories about the magical and muggle worlds. Draco went wide-eyed hearing about TV shows and the Internet, while Harry and Abigail were amazed at Quidditch and gobstones.

For some reason, the Malfoy peacocks absolutely loved Abigail, trailing along behind her the whole time they walked. Some even jumped into her arms, making her laugh, and more than one presented her with one of their long, elegant feathers.

The morning of September 1st found all of them eating a hearty breakfast and checking and rechecking that Harry had everything before they even started loading up the car. Abigail was unquietly snickering over Hannibal and Will's agitation, before the younger man decided they needed to leave this fucking instant before he changed his mind.

All three of the Malfoys were waiting for them outside the barrier, as promised, and escorted them through to the platform where the Hogwarts Express waited. It was still early yet, only a few people milling about, which gave the boys plenty of time to hug their families and say reasonably private goodbyes before boarding the train.

They chose a compartment near the back to maintain the semblance of privacy, and opened their window so that they could still talk to their families until the whistle blew.

Even Hannibal and Lucius waved goodbye when the train pulled out of the station.

A few people Draco knew stopped by their compartment during the journey, saying hello when they were introduced, but none stayed for long, eyeing the scar on Harry's forehead. As a result, they were alone when the door slid open and a hesitant face peered in. Harry smiled gently at the other's skittishness and said, "Need somewhere to sit?"

A jerky nod from the other boy had him waving to the empty bench beside him. "What's your name?"

"Neville," was the reply, "Neville Longbottom. And this is Trevor." He held up his toad.

"Pleased to meet you, Neville. I'm Harry Potter, and this is my friend, Draco."

The Malfoy heir looked like he wanted to say something cutting, but instead just nodded a greeting.

"I-I didn't realize you were coming to Hogwarts this year," said Neville, eyes wide.

"Neither did I. I didn't know Hogwarts even existed until a month and a half ago." Harry caught Trevor when he hopped out of the other boy's loosened grasp.

Neville's eyes went even wider, if that was possible. Draco just sighed and shook his head. "I still don't understand how you, of all people, got sent to live with muggles, and none of us ever knew! We just thought Dumbledore had you squirreled away somewhere in hiding or something. Any wizarding family would have taken you in, any of them!"

"I know my gran tried," Neville ventured, "She said- she said that your parents were my godparents, and mine were two of yours. She tried, but…" He shook his head sadly.

Will had taught Harry a little of how to read people and gauge their intentions before term began. Even that little bit was enough for Harry to know that Neville was being truthful, or at least believed that what he'd been told was the truth. "It's all right, Neville,. I mean, my aunt and uncle weren't great, but my parents now are so much better. I have a sister now, too."

"What are they like?"

Harry described them. Hannibal was the "stern" parent, still caring but more distant, the "authority figure," but he didn't hesitate to give out praise and rewards where they were earned. Will was the more laid back one, content to let Harry and Abigail roll around in the mud with the dogs whenever they wanted as long as they got their schoolwork done. And Abigail – Abigail was the older sibling Harry had wanted instead of cruel Dudley, and Harry was the younger brother Abigail had always wanted and never gotten, someone to teach things to and have fun with, even if they weren't actually in the same age group. Their experiences made them both mature quickly, and so they were quite close despite the more than ten years between them.

Harry was pulled from the memory of Abigail teaching him to process a deer – and Hannibal saying, "It's not so different with pigs, too," and getting Will's elbow in his side because they all knew exactly what he was talking about – by Draco saying, "You really love them, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," said Harry, "I mean, I'm sure my parents loved me, but I never knew them. I do miss them, but… it's more like I miss the idea of them. I have a new family now, and I love them, and I'd do anything to protect them." And then he smiled at Neville. "But even so, it's very nice to meet you, godbrother. I hope we can at least be friends."

Neville smiled back.

"Harry seems happy."

"Good."

The sensation of his son (his son!)'s emotions had grown faint with the distance between them, but Will was still the best at reading people and was also far more sensitive to their collective bond. Harry was happy, practically glowing with it like a distant fire. Will closed his eyes and basked in the warmth.

When they had first taken the boy in, he had been concerned – extremely concerned – about how they would all fit together. Harry had had an abusive family, it was true, but their particular brand of madness was so far beyond that that the light from it would take a million years to reach them.

But Harry had come in with surprising ease – and Hannibal had shown remarkable restraint when it came to treating the boy for trauma. Part of it had been Will threatening to take both of their children and disappear – or worse, go back to Jack – if he did anything excessive. Will could handle Hannibal messing around in his mind, but he wouldn't let the other High Wendigo hurt their children, especially not the most innocent one. The other part was no one was sure how Harry's magic would react to Hannibal's particular form of "rearranging."

They had discovered his magic on accident. Hannibal had been putting the kettle on for tea a few days after they brought Harry home, and the boy had been helping him by getting down the teacups, when one slipped from his grasp to shatter on the stone floor. It had been an accident, truly; Will had seen it happen, even if he hadn't been fast enough to prevent it.

Harry had panicked and frantically tried to gather up all the pieces before any of them could stop him.

But by the time the closest (Hannibal) reached him, the teacup had already snapped back together in his hands, glowing under the kitchen lights.

Even after discovering it had been magic – real magic – Hannibal had taken it as a sign and held their family sacred after that, damned near becoming a helicopter parent before Will told him to calm down. (Will was actually just as bad, though more subtle. Only the two of them knew and understood how potent a symbol the rejoined teacup was for them.)

It had taken more than a year after that for Harry to use his magic intentionally for the first time, and it had taken a lot for the seven-year-old to muster up the force of will – the pure intent – and focus needed. He had been exhausted afterwards, barely managing to swallow down a sandwich and some water before passing out for half a day.

Hannibal's mind-palace training had helped in that regard, although Harry's skills were only rudimentary – he was still a child after all.

Abigail hadn't been jealous, much to Will's surprise – and her own. When he asked her why, she had said, "Our family… we're not normal. We're little, and broken, but still good."

He'd snorted at that. She had grinned, then continued, "It was nice before him, too – not like back in Minnesota – but I was still… lonely. There was no one my age – or closer to my age than yours – that I could talk to, after… after.

"I always wanted a sibling, even before everything started back there. And now I've got a little brother, and he's not normal, too – maybe not in the same way as the three of us, but he – he understands. I can talk to him about this, and he won't- he doesn't look at me like I'm a freak. It's… It's nice. Really nice."

Now both of them were leaving, heading off on their own self-driven adventures. Even though they had promised to return, the house felt empty with just him and Hannibal – too quiet, too still. He was too used to picking up the sounds of one youngling or another moving about, making noise elsewhere in the house. The silence left by their absence made the manor feel more like a mausoleum.

Will turned and stepped right into Hannibal's arms, burying his face in the other man's neck. "I want to go hunting," he growled, "I need to get out of the house, out of my own head."

"I found out the address of that man we saw beating his dog two weeks ago, if you wish to kill two birds with one stone."

Will grinned with a mouth full of sharp teeth and pressed a kiss to his husband's skin.