Living at Grimmauld Place was... odd.
It was located in the last place he would expect a Pureblood residence to be. Right in the middle of Muggle London, between two other Muggle houses. The inside was different too. He was expecting dark and dreary, but it wasn't. It was light and rather open, all things considered. It made sense when Professor Black explained that it use to be dark, but he changed it once he became Lord Black.
"After Sirius left at age sixteen, Mother disinherited him and I became the new Heir. As soon as she died, I remodel the entire house. My brother wasn't the only one who didn't like it here. He was just more vocal about it. Which essentially describes our relationship right there. Sirius is loud and brash and I'm quiet and cunning. We have more in common than he'll admit. But he is so determined to distance himself from this family, that he'll forever ignore anything that doesn't fit his version of reality."
Harry had expected both Professors to ignore him after they brought them to their home. Either that or give him a list of chores like his relatives. They did neither. Sure, he had rules to obey and one of them was not making a mess of the house or himself, but nothing strenuous. Not like he was use to.
The first thing he had to do was his summer homework, which he did with relish. No more having to rush to complete it the day before. Now he has all summer, plus access to the Black library to help him. The library is every bit of impressive as the one at Hogwarts and Harry cannot wait to go through it. Spending so much time in the library over the past four years really has turned him into such a Ravenclaw.
When Professor Snape insists on looking over them after he has finished, the first thing he demands is why all of his summer work from years past hasn't been this well done. That leads to the awkward conversation about how he has never had access to his school supplies over the summer. Which leads to the even more awkward conversation, on Harry's part at least, of what his summers were really like.
Harry was afraid Professor Snape's head might explode, he looked so angry. But not at Harry. And wasn't that a new experience? If he thought his Professor didn't like his relatives before, he certainly knew he hated them now. He was almost protective of him.
And that is how, twice a week, Harry was forced to talk to Professor Snape about his childhood. He wasn't too happy about it, but he didn't have a choice. He was told he was either going to talk to Professor Snape or a Mind Healer. He chose the lesser of two evils. At least he is familiar with his Professor, if not comfortable. Who knows what a Mind Healer might do.
That was probably the biggest shock of all. Professor Snape wasn't a complete bastard to Harry. Oh sure, he was still sarcastic and sneered at him. But he never laughed or mocked him for what he revealed. He never purposefully belittled him for anything. He wasn't exactly patient or kind, but there was a certain sense of... protectiveness that had never been there before. And he is as snarky and sarcastic with Professor Black as he is with him.
It was almost as if Professor Snape actually cared.
As if both of his Professors did. Professor Black always took the time to see him each day, no matter how busy he was. Professor Snape actually let him help with his potions. He was only allowed to prepare the ingredients, but still. It was something. They gave him his own bedroom. They made sure he had three meals a day. If he didn't understand something he read, they would explain it to him. Luna said they were doing an excellent job of removing his Three Eyed Jackalburs.
Which was another change. Hedwig was free to come and go as she pleased. He was allowed, and even encouraged, to write his friends. Luna was all stories of the creatures her and her Father were looking for. Black and Lupin wrote. They never talk about anything heavy, but they like to write and check in on him. They tell him stories about his parents at school. Or what country they are currently in. Or the book Lupin is writing for DADA. How Black is adjusting to life out of Azkaban.
The twins talked about their family some and the new pranks they were developing. They were able to start a owl mailing business for their pranks and they were currently looking for a store to buy after they graduated.
Harry is glad they are putting the money to good use. He had given them the money he won from the Triwizard Tournament. He couldn't bear to look at it, after what happened. It was blood money to him. He tried to give it to Cedric's Father, but he refused it. So he gave it to the twins instead, so they could open their dream store.
Apparently he was lucky that he slept through the aftermath of Tournament. The press went wild and so did the rest of the country. There were celebrations everywhere. Articles were printed and interviews demanded. There were trials of those Death Eaters that weren't killed. His Professors were hailed as heroes, which he privately found rather amusing, even if he did agree.
Some of those Death Eaters were parents to his Housemates. He didn't know what to think. Crabble's and Goyle's Fathers are in Azkaban. Draco's and Nott's Fathers are dead. Does this mean it will be better or worse for him next year? Will they blame him, even if he wasn't the one who killed Voldemort? Or will they continue to hate him as usual?
He doesn't question whether they will be kinder to him or not. He knows they won't. He isn't that stupid. He doubts anything can get them to like him. He is forever the outsider. That isn't going to change.
But overall, things aren't as bad as he had been assuming they would be. He wouldn't say he was happy at Grimmauld Place. But he isn't miserable either. He isn't an outsider here. Everyday, he is shown that he is welcome through actions rather than words. Words mean nothing. Promises can be broken. But actions show what people really mean. So he isn't happy. He isn't all that trusting. But he is... content.
And then the next shock comes at the end of the month.
When Professor Black asks to talk to him, he assumes he has done something wrong. They are in his study, sitting on the couches in front of the fire. Harry stares at the fire, afraid to look elsewhere.
"You're not in trouble little one," Professor Black reassures him. He still calls him little one, even if he is growing more now thanks to the nutrient potions Professor Snape insists on giving him. "But we need to talk about having another guest in the house and it effects you as well."
"Guest?" Harry asks.
"Draco Malfoy," he says.
Harry freezes. Draco. They want Draco here. Of all the subjects he and Professor Snape talk about, Draco has never been one of them. Soulmates have come up, but that was more in relation to Voldemort and why Harry shouldn't think he is the monster's soulmate. Why? Why does he have to come here? He feels almost safe here. Why does he have to come and ruin that?
"He isn't taking the death of his Father very well. Neither is Narcissa for that matter. She is moving to France for the time being, but doesn't want to take Draco out of the country. That means he would have to live with us. Draco is our godson."
Oh. That makes sense. Of course they would want their godson with them. He is family after all. Harry is just living here out of pity. No one else wants him. He knows how important family can be. They come first. He is to be an outsider once again. That is, if they aren't sending him away. He nods.
"Is that all you have to add?"
"Draco is family Sir. I understand."
Professor Black sighs. "No, I don't think you do. Not that I blame you, after everything you have been through. Don't think I don't realize you have no real trust in either of us. But having Draco here will not mean we will push you aside, forget about you or send you away. You will both be equals in this house."
"But Draco is family. He means more," Harry protests.
Professor Black gives him a long look before nodding. "We weren't going to bring this up right away. We wanted to give you plenty of time to adjust before even mentioning it. But I can see waiting isn't going to do any good now."
"Sir?"
"Severus and I would like to become your legal guardians."
What?! Harry stares at the man, unable to speak. He couldn't have heard right. There is no way Professor Black just said he wanted. That both of his Professors want him. To be his legal guardians. To be his... parents? No.
"You are very much wanted Harry. By both of us."
He looks at him skeptically. Professor Snape wants him.
Professor Black laughs. "I know it is hard to believe, but Severus is in agreement with me. I know he doesn't act like it, but he does care for you. He is just terrible at showing it. Believe me, it took him years to be able to show he cared for me. That's just the way he is."
"But he's always saying I'm an impertinent brat and a little dunderhead," Harry says.
"Yes, but you're my brat, which makes you tolerable," Professor Snape announces from behind him.
He jumps, startled. Professor Snape chuckles. It is still odd hearing him laugh, but he likes it. It is a nice sound. Deep and soothing. "Sir?"
"Yes Potter, brat that you are, I still want you. Why else would you be living here? Or did you think I was doing this out of the kindness of my heart?" he raises an eyebrow.
Feeling bold, he answers, "I thought you were doing it out of the goodness of Professor Black's heart actually."
Professor Snape snorts. "Cheeky brat."
"He is obviously learning from the best then," Professor Black tells him.
Professor Snape rolls his eyes, but there is a barely visible smile of his lips. "Think it over Potter. We don't want to rush into these things. One might think we are Gryffindors."
Harry covers his mouth when a small laugh escapes. Some things will never change. He's glad. He nods in agreement.
"But Draco is still coming to live with us and I am aware of the potential trouble that will bring. However we will do our best to avoid trouble, correct Mr Potter?"
He nods.
"Good. And yes, I will be having this same conversation with Draco. I am aware of where the majority of the problems begin. I will not force interaction between the two of you, but I refuse to live in a war in my own home. I have already lived through one war zone before and have no desire to do it again."
"Yes Sir."
Professor Snape gives a curt nod and leaves the room. Professor Black reaches over and ruffles his hair. "So, have you read anything interesting lately?"
As he talks to Professor Black, he pushes the conversation out of his mind. But that night, he can't help thinking about it. Nor can he help the sinking feeling in his stomach that this is going to end in disaster.
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What makes a family when blood is no longer involved? Care? Kindness? A desire to provide and protect? Biological bonds are hailed as the strongest bond there is. Too bad that isn't always the case.
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Having Draco living with them changes everything and nothing at all.
Professor Black still visits with him each day. Professor Snape still insists he talk to him. He still had him prepare ingredients. They still explained things to him. Still seemed as though they cared for him. Still acknowledged him.
But now there are four places at the table during meals. Another person wandering around the house. Another bedroom occupied. Another presence in the library. Another helper for Professor Snape. Another responsibility for Professor Black. Another member of a family where Harry has no place in.
Sure, his Professors talked about becoming his legal guardians. But that does not mean they can't change their minds. Nor does it mean, if they don't, that Harry will become family. There is a mountain of difference between legal guardian and parent. His relatives taught him that. One means they are legally bound to care for him as they see fit. The latter means they actually want and care about him. Care for vs care. A world of difference.
Why would anyone want him anyways? He's nothing special. He never has been, despite his status as the Boy-Who-Lived. That meant virtually nothing anymore. He was a disappointment from the start and now Voldemort is gone for good. And he wasn't the one to kill him this time.
Not that Harry wanted to be the one who killed him. He has done that enough already. He has enough blood on his hands. But he had assumed he would be the one to do it. If he didn't die first. Now he is just Harry. And while that was all he ever wanted to be, 'just Harry' isn't worth very much.
Not that he dare point that out. His Professors have a very ruthless method of dealing with such thoughts. At first Professor Snape had threatened to wash his mouth out with soap, but, well, the panic attack he had was enough to convince them that was a bad idea.
The panic attacks have become a problem ever since the last one in the Headmaster's office. Neither of his Professors were very surprised by this. Apparently he has hit his breaking point, which was bound to happen sooner or later. Now, instead of holding it all in, things tend to come out. Violently at times.
So, instead, he has to write lines. Which doesn't sound bad. Not compared to some of the things he is use to. But they are. The first time he referred to himself as a Freak, he was given his assignment.
'I am not a Freak. I am worthy and deserving of love.'
A hundred and fifty times.
Since then, the number will increase or decrease depending on the circumstance. But it has never been less than the first time. The worse part aren't the hand cramps or the tediousness of it. No. It is how emotionally exhausting it is. He cannot just write it mindlessly. No. He has to think about what he is writing. It is a challenge, some days more than others. He has broken down in tears before. He thought crying was trained out of him at a young age. Not now.
"Hey Potter," Draco calls.
Harry sighs. At least he isn't calling him Potty anymore. Professor Snape heard him the last time and yelled at him for it. That doesn't mean he is any better now. It just means he is more careful. The other boy hasn't done anything too damaging yet, but he isn't pleasant either. No one is going to mistake them for friends. Hell, Draco can barely pretend civility some days. Obviously his bad days.
He is dealing with his Father's death less than gracefully. Not that he doesn't have a right to be upset. It was his Father. And not that Harry would know the correct way to mourn a parent. For years, he thought they were worthless drunks. Then he found out they were heroes, but didn't have any memories of them. Finally, he got a memory of his Mum, but it was of her death. At that point, he had so much trauma from everything else, it was just another thing on the list.
Still, even he knows getting mouthy with the Professors, godfathers or not, is the wrong way to go about it. So he takes it out on Harry instead. Subtly of course. He even manages to make his last name sound like an insult.
Harry doesn't lift his head from the book he is reading. Maybe, if he is really lucky, he'll go away. Probably not, but he can always hope. He is use to having his crushed.
"Potter, Potter, Potter," he repeats over and over again. Great, the blonde is bored. And turning to his favorite game. Mocking Potter. His cousin would get along great with the other boy. They can exchange notes on their favorite games. He ignores him.
But then the book is pulled out of his hands. He looks up to see Draco smirking at him. He just stares at him blankly. He doesn't even blink. He isn't the only one who has bad days. But the difference is that Draco lashes out while Harry curls in.
Draco waves the book in front of him. "Want it back Potter?"
Pointless. Childish. Why does he hate him so much that he has to torment him in the tiniest of ways? What was he hurting, reading on the couch? Who was he bothering? Why can't he just leave him alone? He is so tired of it. He is so tired of everything.
Getting out of bed is still a problem some days.
Draco's smirk fades as Harry doesn't react. Rule number one, never give them the reaction they want. Never give them a reaction at all, if you can help it. And he can't. He doesn't have the energy for much else. Last night was filled with images he would gladly obliviate from himself, if he could.
"Merlin Potter, blink will you?"
Naturally he doesn't.
Draco throws the book on the ground. "Freak," he mutters loud enough to be heard, walking away.
"I know," Harry answers.
"What?" he turns around sharply.
He shrugs. "I know I'm a Freak. I've always known that, long before I got to Hogwarts."
"What are you talking about?"
"My life."
"Your life?"
He nods. "Funny how you always made jokes about unwanted orphans, but seem so shocked now to know they are true. My entire life people have made it very clear how unwanted I am. How much of a worthless burden I am." He states this flatly. A matter of fact. Because it is.
"But, but," he sputters, "you're the Boy-Who-Lived."
Harry snorts. "Right. Because that did me a lot of good. That title has given me more trouble than anything else. I would trade the fame for someone else's life in a heartbeat. To have my parents back, to have a family that actually loves me, there isn't even a question. I would give it all away."
"You can't mean that. Everyone wants to be famous."
"What good has it done for me? I am the burden to my relatives, the evil Slytherin to Hogwarts and a disappointment to the rest of the Wizarding World. Tell me, what is so great about that?"
Draco stares at him in shock.
Honestly he isn't sure why he is having this conversation with him. He knows that anything he says will be spread around school the minute they get onto the train next year. It probably has to do with how done he is. How tired. He shrugs again.
"But what about your soulmate?" he finally asks.
Now it is Harry's turn to stare. What in the world? Where did that come from? And why? "What soulmate?" he asks bitterly.
"Your names. I know you have two of them, you keep both wrists covered."
"And what makes you think I have two? Maybe I keep both covered so people won't know which one to rip off to read."
"That's too cunning for you."
"I am a Slytherin you know. The hat didn't put me there just to make my life miserable. Although I can see why you would think that," he adds thoughtfully.
"Alright then, do you have a soulmate?"
"I fail to see how that is your business. Besides," he continues as Draco opens his mouth to answer, "I have no desire for the entire world to know my names."
"And why would they?"
Harry's laugh is bitter. "How would they? Really?" he mocks, "Don't play naive, it doesn't suit you. I know very well anything I say or do this summer is going to be spread about school at the first opportunity. Just further proof of how pathetic I am. Great gossip material, living here."
"Cynical much?" he raises an eyebrow.
"I've been told it's a defining trait of mine, right along with major trust issues and nonexistent self-esteem."
Draco doesn't seem to know what to say to that. It is so odd to see him off balance. "So you do have two names," he says finally.
"Really? That's what you got out of that? How surprising," he doesn't sound surprised at all.
"So who are they? Two names means you definitely have a soulmate, so who is it?"
"Again, I fail to see why I should tell you."
"I have your name on my wrist, I have a right to know."
"You assume we have a mutual rivalry bond?"
"Who else would it be?"
He shrugs and answers casually, "Voldemort?"
"What?" Draco blinks.
And here is that bitter laugh again. "What, did you assume you were the most dangerous person in my life? Did it never occur to you I had bigger things to worry about than your pratty arse? Of course not, you're the center of the universe after all." He decides he's gone this far, he might as well go all the way. He bares his wrists to the boy, "So you tell me, who is my soulmate? I should warn you, both of the Professors are insistent it isn't Riddle. That's Voldemort's real name by the way."
Draco stares at him, shocked and horrified.
"That's what I thought." Harry nods pleasantly. "Good day Malfoy," he says with cheerfulness he doesn't feel as he walks away, wrists bare.
Draco Malfoy
Tom Riddle
.
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When the choice is to laugh or cry, which will you chose?
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That night Harry stares at himself in the mirror after his shower. His body is a study of the battles he has lived through. He is still too short. His bones stick out prominently. He is a mass of scars. There is the one on the right arm from the basilisk's fang. The one on his left is from Voldemort's resurrection ceremony. His back is lined with white strips from his Uncle. Dragon fire has warped the skin on his torso. His ankle from where Ripper bit him is still a tangle of jagged lines.
There is nothing physically attractive about him.
Not that that is something he will ever have to worry about. He can't imagine someone ever being interested in him, even if they ignored their soulmate for a chance to be with him. And why would they? It's not as if he has anything going for him. Maybe if he were still famous, in a good way, but he isn't.
And he knows Draco will never be interested in him. For one thing, he thinks they are rivals. For all Harry knows, he could be right and Riddle, Voldemort, really is his soulmate. His Professors can't be right all the time.
Tom Riddle. Voldemort. That has always bothered him, ever since he found out. Why Riddle and not Voldemort? Voldemort is the one who killed his parents. Voldemort is the one who tried to kill him. Shouldn't that be the name on his wrist? Riddle was gone long before Voldemort ever went after him. Is it because that is his birth name? Or is it because while he was meant to be with Tom Riddle, Voldemort destroyed him before Harry ever got the chance?
But then wouldn't his wrist read Tom Riddle and Voldemort? Or just Tom Riddle? The entire thing is confusing and overly complicated. Sometimes he thinks the whole concept of soulmates is more trouble than it's worth.
One thing he knows for sure though, no matter what his wrists claim, he is destined to be alone.
For who could ever love a Freak?
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Reflections are funny things. People like to say they are the purest form of truth. What you see is what you get. What they fail to remember is there is another factor involved: themselves. Perception is a powerful thing. Remember, you are your own worst critic.
.
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Draco was quiet around him after that. Watchful. It was as if he didn't know how to act around him, now that he knows what he does. It makes for a peaceful time. When asked, he admits the conversation to Professor Black, but nothing comes out of it. All he does is nod thoughtfully. And so time passes.
"Harry," Professor Black says one day at lunch, "will you please write your godfather and tell him whether you would like a broom for your birthday or not. He has been bothering me for a week now. If not, for the love of Merlin, tell him what you do want."
Harry blinks at him. "Birthday?" he repeats, confused.
"Yes Potter," Professor Snape answers, "the day in which the world was first blessed with your glorious presence," he snarks, "It is a day where decent people throw a party filled with noise and candy for the brat in question."
"A party?" he then repeats.
"Yes, a gathering of other demons fueled on sugar, cake and excitement."
"And presents?"
"Obviously."
"For me?" he asks, just to be sure.
"No Potter, for the Dark Lord. Yes for you," Professor Snape answers, clearly exasperated. Although he can't be surprised that Harry is so shocked, given what he knows.
"Merlin Potter," Draco says, "you act as if you never had a birthday party before."
"I haven't."
Draco stares in disbelief. And now here is another reason for him to stare. Oh goody. He doesn't say anything to that.
.
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The grass is not always greener on the other side. Sometimes it takes a kick to the head to realize that.
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Harry's birthday arrives quickly it seems. Life is almost pleasant now that Draco has stopped bullying him every chance he gets. He does have a party, with his friends and sugar and presents just as Professor Snape described. He told his two Professors he didn't need a party, but they didn't listen.
It was a small gathering. The only other people besides the house's residents attending were the twins, Luna, Black and Lupin. Not that he would want anything big. He barely knows what to do with this. The twins steal him right away to make sure he is alright. Apparently letters aren't enough for them. With some coaxing he tells them of his summer so far. Even the parts he left out in his letters.
"You don't have as many Jackalburs," Luna tells him, delighted.
He nods. "Professor Snape is determined to remove them. Painfully," he tells her.
"Yes," she agrees, "I can see why. He has a slight problem with them as well. It can't be very comfortable taking care of someone else's."
Black does give him a broom. Mainly because Harry didn't know what else to ask for. Lupin gets him a few books on DADA, since it was his best subject in school. Luna gives him an ouroboros necklace. The twins give him a pass for a lifetime supply of pranks, free. He protests, but they insist.
"For our favorite baby Lord,"
"Who without his support, our business would never exist."
"Besides, think of this as an inspection,"
"You have to make sure your investment is being well spent."
His Professors give him chocolate, knowing what a sweet tooth he has. And now that he is no longer sick of it, having recovered from Third year. Draco doesn't give him anything, but he wasn't expecting him to, so it's alright. He's surprised he is even here. The same goes for his Professors. They didn't need to get him anything. They have already done enough.
They are the first to leave, Professor Snape exiting with a scowl and a headache, his partner following amused. Draco slips away quietly when no one is looking. Black and Lupin finally leave with Lupin dragging Black along. "If we don't leave now Sirius will want to stay forever and neither of your parents can handle that."
Parents. He just called his Professor's his parents. How odd.
His friends are the last to leave. They stay until the evening, laughing and making fools of themselves, in the twins case. Harry has never laughed so hard in his life. Is this what having friends is like? True friends? Ones who won't abandon or betray you? It's an odd feeling, but he thinks he likes it. Having friends... it's different, but good, he thinks.
But as it turns out, he hasn't opened all of his presents yet. Because he hadn't be given them all. His Professors come in while he is sitting at the table, looking through one of the books Lupin gave him.
"Harry," Professor Black says as he sits, Professor Snape beside him, "Have fun?"
"Oh yes Sir, it was the best birthday I've ever had," he answers happily, "Thank you."
"As it was hard to beat," Professor Snape dryly adds.
Harry shrugs. It wasn't, but it was still a fun day.
Professor Black smiles. "That's good," And then, more seriously, "now, I am not sure how much thought you have given to us being your legal guardians and there is still no pressure to decide yet. But we wanted to give you another option as well."
"What?" he asks, nervously.
"While we were obtaining permission to be able to become your guardians, the question of adoption came up."
Adoption? What?!
"As it turns out, it is also a viable option if you would want it. There is no pressure to chose one or the other or even either of them. But we wanted to tell you all of your options before you decide on one."
Harry's head is spinning. "Adoption. That would mean... I would be your... You would want to be my parents?" he finally manages.
"Yes," Professor Black says simply.
He looks at Professor Snape.
He raises an eyebrow. "Do we need to have another conversation about certain impertinent brats and their level of tolerance?"
"No Sir."
"Good. I would hate to think your memory is that poor. Or that the Gryffindors," he sneers, "have been rubbing off on you too much."
Harry huffs. "Gred and Forge aren't that bad."
"The fact that you refer to them as such is not encouraging. In any case, it is in their very nature to corrupt and help others form bad habits."
Harry smiles. No, Professor Snape will never like Gryffindors. "Thank you Sirs," he says instead.
They nod and get up to leave. "And Harry, I would say it is about time that you call us by our first names, isn't it? You have been living here long enough."
He looks at them in shock, but nods. "Yes Sir, Regulus," he agrees automatically.
He smiles.
Professor Snape glares. "And do not think you can get away with liberties," he adds.
Oh.
"My name is Severus," he stresses, "not Sev."
Oh. Draco calls him Uncle Sev sometimes. He doesn't like it. At all.
"Yes Severus," he echoes.
"And remember Harry," Prof- Regulus says, "no pressure. No rush." They both leave the room.
Harry doesn't know what to think. The entire conversation makes his head spin. He remembers Lupin referring to the two Professors as his parents, but he never thought it could be true. But it can, if he wants. Does he? Does he dare? Could he take that chance and have them change their minds? Or not and regret never having the chance to have actual parents? Adults that really do want him and care for him.
This is going to take some serious thinking. He's not a Gryffindor after all, he thinks amused. He gathers his things and takes them to his room. He isn't in there for more than a few minutes when someone knocks on his door.
Draco. "Here," he hands him a brightly wrapped box. A present.
He looks at the other boy. "I didn't want to give it to you earlier. I don't know if any of your friends know about your names."
The sentence puzzles Harry until he unwraps the box and opens it. Inside are two black leather bracelets, wide enough to cover his names. They are beautiful, a Celtic knot pattern carved into them. "And there are protection spells on them – against wear and water, thief, moderate jinxes, hexes and curses. Once you put them on, you are the only person who can take them off. I thought it would be easier, this way," he shrugs as if it is no big deal.
And maybe to him, it isn't. But to Harry, it means much, much more. It represents a new start as well as a useful and thoughtful gift. Although, with the way Draco is standing there, trying not to fidget, he knows it means something more to him as well.
He smiles. "Thank you Malfoy,"
"Draco," he corrects.
"Draco."
He nods. "Happy Birthday Potter."
"Harry," he tells him.
"Harry," he agrees and leaves Harry alone in his room. He slips the bracelets on, staring at them. They really are beautiful. And convenient. They fit comfortably on his wrists. He stares at his empty doorway thoughtfully. It looks as if he has more to think about than he thought.
Tom Riddle
Draco Malfoy
Who knew?
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What's after the breaking point? Life's next adventure. Are you ready?
