Chapter One
The flames roared and settled and Harry stepped out of the fireplace.
"What the..." Harry looked around the room he was standing in. It was a small sitting room with a sofa, two side tables, and a coffee table. It looked nothing like the room he remembered from Grimmauld Place. It was clear that he wasn't there.
"Hey you're back—" Draco Malfoy, wearing nothing but a black pair of pants and running the towel through his hair, stopped still in his tracks. "What the..." he uttered.
"My sentiments exactly," Harry answered, trying to look away from the almost naked man standing in front of him. In turn, his eyes only widened as his gaze fell from Malfoy's abdomen, to his groin and oh, Merlin—he was staring.
"Potter, what in the bloody hell are you doing here and how did you get in?" Malfoy roared, wrapping the towel around his waist, unfortunately.
"I don't know. I wasn't heading here. I don't even know where here is. This isn't the Manor."
"It's really a shame you opted not to be an Auror, Potter. Your observation skills are remarkable!" Malfoy sneered.
"Whatever, Malfoy." Harry wasn't in the mood to argue with Draco Malfoy of all people. "I was heading to Grimmauld Place from the Burrow, and now I'm here. Do you live near Islington?"
"No, I live in Chelsea." He gave Harry the once-over. "Why don't you turn around and try again?"
Harry nodded. It was all he could do. He grabbed a bit of Floo powder from the mantel and entered the fireplace. "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" he said, loud and clear. The fire roared but he didn't move. He was still at Malfoy's.
"What is going on?" Malfoy groaned. "I don't have time for this. I'm going to be late for work!"
"I don't know. I think I should just head back to the Burrow. Maybe try from there," Harry said and a moment later, he was off.
He arrived at the Burrow safe and sound, and Hermione and Ron were half-dressed, snogging on the sofa. Needless to say, they were surprised to see him. "Oh for Merlin's sake! I've only been gone for ten minutes!" Harry teased.
It was always like that with the two of them. When no one was around, they were ready to hump each other. More Ron than Hermione, Harry reckoned, but she clearly liked it, too.
"What happened, Harry? Did you forget something?" Ron asked, trying to button up his shirt.
"I forgot how to Floo to Grimmauld Place apparently. I ended up at Malfoy's flat—"
"How?" Hermione asked.
"Why?" Ron added.
"I have no idea. I tried to Floo from his place, and it didn't work. So I thought I'd come back here and try again."
"Why don't you try to Apparate?" Hermione suggested.
Harry nodded and placed his bags on the floor and grabbed his wand. Nothing happened. "It won't let me!" He tried again. Destination, Determination and Deliberation. It didn't work.
"You can't Apparate at all?" Ron asked, shocked.
Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later, he was at the top of the stairs. He tried again, and was back in front of Ron and Hermione. "It's working otherwise. I just can't seem to Apparate to Grimmauld Place."
"Let's try to Floo together," Hermione suggested. She grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him towards the fireplace. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place!" she said, and the flames roared. When they stepped out, they were standing in Malfoy's sitting room.
"Bloody hell, you're back. And you brought your friends."
"Why do I keep coming here? Why can't I Apparate to Grimmauld Place?" Harry whined in frustration.
"I don't understand what's going on," Hermione added.
"Please, have a discussion in my flat. It's not like I have anywhere to go." Malfoy scowled. "Why don't you Apparate to Grimmauld Place from here? Or go back to wherever you came from?"
Harry held Hermione's hand and tried to Apparate. It didn't work. "Let's just go back to the Burrow," he said, and in moments, he and Hermione were back in the sitting room at the Burrow.
"What happened?" Ron asked.
"It didn't work. I can't Apparate to Grimmauld Place." Harry felt defeated. This was turning out to be the worst birthday ever. What was he going to do now?
"Fly," Hermione suggested.
"What?"
"Take one of Ginny's brooms and fly there. See if the house is still there. See if it'll let you in."
"That's brilliant," Harry said; things were starting to look up!
He quickly ran outside to the shed and grabbed a broom. After he mounted it, he placed a Notice-Me-Not spell on himself and the broom and took off.
Harry knew that it was a 45-minute flight from the Burrow to Grimmauld Place and when Harry arrived, the house was intact. He'd had had the Fidelius Charm removed from the house after the war and a proper key made as well. To the Muggles living around, it looked like an ordinary old house, and to the best of his knowledge, no one really paid any attention to it.
Harry always had the key around his neck. He fiddled with the chain for a moment before lifting it over his head and trying it in the lock. The lock rejected it. Literally. It spat it out, and the brass key flew off all the way to the street. Harry blinked and stared... that was quite the ways. He'd never encountered this sort of magic before.
Confused and irritated, Harry ran after it to retrieve it and tried again. The thing did it again. He tried to Apparate in; it didn't work. The house was rejecting him. Why?
Defeated and confused, Harry grabbed the broom and Apparated back to the Burrow. Hermione was waiting for him, almost as though she'd been expecting him to fail.
"What did you find?" Harry asked. He had been gone for over an hour, and he knew she had probably researched his dilemma. She wouldn't be Hermione otherwise.
She gave him a knowing smile. He was right. She had figured it out.
"I called over to Dante Oswaldo in Ministry Archives, and he sent me information on deeds and wills amongst individuals who are not related by blood." She was walking towards the kitchen and Harry followed her.
Not related by blood. Harry's heart sank into his stomach. Did he lose the house?
"It seems that since you never actually lived in the house for more than a transitional period of your lifetime, the house magically broke its ties with you. When that happens, the house can stay locked up forever until everything inside it just...diminishes."
"How long does that take?" Harry asked, taking a seat on the chair at the kitchen table. He had lost the house.
"It can take years. No one really knows. It almost never happens. The house dissolves slowly with time and my guess would be that it wouldn't exist after a hundred or so years. But time doesn't really matter since no one is ever allowed in the house. It shuts itself off like a vault that no one has a key to, and it's locked from inside."
Harry nodded and hung his head low. He stared at his hands for a while; he was so lost. What was he going to do now? Live at the Burrow? Everything about that house was gone? Sirius? His parents? His only legacy...
"Wait!"
Harry shot his head up and looked at Hermione, who smiled again. She knew what his next question was going to be. "Malfoy is related to Sirius by blood. He's probably the only living family left," she said.
"What about Narcissa Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"It's a possibility, but she lives in France. Besides Draco's magic is much too strong and you really need him."
Harry thought about Andromeda.
"I know what you're thinking, but, Andromeda is too busy with Teddy, who is too young to hone in on this sort of magic—and unless you want to disrupt her life..." She paused. "I think Malfoy is your best bet, that's why the house kept sending you there."
Harry released an exasperated sigh. What was he going to do? There was no way in hell Malfoy was going to help him. Was there?
"We need to convince Malfoy to help us," Hermione said, reading his mind again.
"Do you think he will?"
"Sure," she said casually, as if she knew something he didn't.
"Why?"
"Because it's the right thing to do."
"What makes you think Malfoy will do the right thing?"
"What makes you think he won't?"
Harry scoffed at Hermione's question. He could think of a hundred reasons why.
"If he wants the house for himself, there is nothing we can do to stop him. And I just don't think he's the same Malfoy anymore. He'll help you if he can. I'm sure of it. But first, I need to get to the Ministry and find out exactly what is required for him to hand the house over to you. It's probably just some signature on an enchanted parchment to sign the deed over to you for good. But Harry, you have to make sure you live in the house. Make it yours, or it'll be gone, forever."
"I will," Harry promised.
0-*0-*0-*0
Harry joined Hermione at the Ministry later that morning. She had left him on the sofa in the sitting room at the Burrow to sulk for a while as she went into work.
At half past eleven, Harry took the Floo Network to the Ministry and found himself lingering in the hallways of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. When Hermione was done with her morning meetings, she asked Harry to accompany her to the Department of Magical Equipment Control where Malfoy worked.
Malfoy scowled when he saw Harry, but his expression soothed at the sight of Hermione. Harry found that to be very suspicious.
"Hello, Draco. I'm sure you're aware of the situation," Hermione said as she sat across from Malfoy, and he nodded.
Draco? Hermione never told Harry that she was on a first name basis with Malfoy.
Hermione spoke as Harry stood behind her. Malfoy's eyes never left Hermione's face as he listened intently. Harry looked around Malfoy's office and every time he'd see something of interest, Malfoy would shout "Don't touch that," and continue speaking with Hermione.
He'd never felt more like a five year old since he'd been at the Dursleys.
"We should go to Grimmauld Place to inspect," Hermione said, and stood up.
Harry noticed that Malfoy was rather reluctant but didn't really argue with her. He caught himself wondering what was going on between Hermione and Malfoy. Clearly, something had happened. Something Harry really wanted to know.
They arrived at Grimmauld Place by Apparition, and this time it worked. Malfoy held Hermione's arm, and Hermione held Harry's, and it worked. Harry's heart sank; Malfoy was the true owner of the property.
It was an idea that was quickly dismissed once they all took in the state of the house. Everything had disappeared. There were no proper levels to the house. No proper entrance hall. Only a small sitting room and the kitchen remained.
"What happened?" Harry asked, shocked, and feeling as though the wind had been kicked out of him.
"Oh, this is not good, at all," Malfoy said, almost ignoring Harry's comment. He was frowning and looked just about how Harry felt.
"Wait, I'll contact Dante. I have a book about this in my office!" Hermione said and quickly ran towards the Floo. Harry wondered if it would work given the house was—what was the house doing? Disappearing? Going away? Dying?
Could a house die?
Harry was lost in his thoughts and noted that Malfoy wasn't speaking much either when Hermione did manage to contact that Dante bloke via the Floo. He sent her a book through the flames
"Here, let me read from this," Hermione said as she opened up Magical Ownership: What to do when your house is collapsing. Harry and Malfoy stood around awkwardly, avoiding looking at each other, until Hermione looked up again.
0-*0-*0-*0
"Wait, we have to do what?"
"I am not going to live in this house!" Malfoy roared. For once, Harry agreed with him. Actually agreed with him, and if they were actual friends, he'd probably hug Malfoy or kiss him for saying something consequential.
Kiss him? Where did that idea come from? Harry never wanted to kiss Hermione or Ron when they said something he wholeheartedly liked.
"It's the only way," Hermione said, interrupting Harry's thoughts and Malfoy's rage.
Harry still wasn't convinced. Malfoy wasn't either.
"The house is collapsing," Hermione said, stern. "The longer you deny acceptance of your inheritance, Draco, the faster the house will deteriorate. You just need to stay here with Harry for a month. Six weeks at most. I'll read more into the matter. The house belongs to both of you and the house needs to accept that. It needs to see that Draco accepts it and that you're okay with the fact that Harry is here. When it is back to its full structure, you just have to sign the magical deed stating that you give up all ownership to Harry. Nothing to it."
Nothing to it? Harry glared at Hermione who seemingly ignored him.
"I already have a place to live," Malfoy said, still evidently enraged by what was being asked of him.
"I'll pay your rent," Harry found himself saying. What was he doing?
"I don't need your fucking money, Potter."
"Listen, Malfoy," Harry said, trying to calm his voice. Harry needed to be the rational one here; he just needed to be. "All I care about is this house. It's the only thing I have left that was part of my family—my godfather, my parents—and I will do anything to get it back. Even if that means living with you. I need your help and I'm asking you, begging you, to help me. Can you just—"
"Where will we sleep?" Malfoy asked. "I mean where will I sleep? Can't I just bring you here, and go back to my flat? Do I have to sleep here?"
They both turned to look at Hermione.
"Magic makes the house alive. You both have to be living here for it to recognise you as equals. If you abandon the house with Harry in it, who knows—"
Malfoy groaned but didn't argue, and Harry was a bit thankful. He didn't really want to hear about the house swallowing him whole.
0-*0-*0-*0
After a very long and strenuous process of negotiation, Malfoy convinced Harry that if he was going to stay at Grimmauld Place, he needed his own bed. The sitting room had the furniture intact and they could shrink the furniture so Malfoy's bed could fit there, but there was only space enough for one bed. Hermione had managed to persuade them that for the time being they needed to sleep in the same bed.
Harry couldn't believe it, but he was desperate. He needed the house and he needed Malfoy's help. For the time being, Harry would have to share a bed with Malfoy, for a month. Six weeks tops.
Yeah, nothing to it. Harry sighed.
"So what exactly is the plan?" Malfoy asked after he'd settled the bed in the corner and had the bedding properly fitted on it, with his pillows and his side tables, the works.
Wow, Malfoy really cared about his bed.
Ron's head emerged into the Floo as he called for Hermione before they could discuss the "plan."
"Oh I'm so late!" Hermione nearly shrieked and tied her travelling cloak on. "I have to go. I'm so sorry, Harry. You just have to figure out what you want to do. What time you leave the house. Draco, you can't leave Harry alone in the house—not until you feel it's safe. You'll have to Floo or Apparate out and come back home together. Make sure that you cook or at least share one meal in the kitchen so your magical presence and your bond with the house is active."
She stepped into the Floo and gave them both a once over. "Come by the Burrow for dinner later, both of you, and we can work out the details."
Great, now Malfoy was going to intrude in Harry's personal time with his friends as well. Was this hell ever going to end?
Six weeks tops.
Glad that at least one bathroom was still intact in the house, Harry started to speak... "So, I am going to shower..." He turned to look at Malfoy, who appeared pensive. "What's the matter?" Harry asked.
"I sleep in the nude, usually," he answered, and Harry silently gulped.
Fantastic. Harry's cock gave a quick twitch and he couldn't will for it to stop.
"I will need to go back to my flat to gather some clothes. I reckon I shall need pyjamas and my robes here for the morning. You can shower while I pack."
Harry nodded. He had already packed that day and his belongings were settled in the corner of the room, under a shrinking charm. Harry reckoned he'd have to figure out what he needed on a daily basis and the rest would have to stay shrunk — there was absolutely no room in the tiny sitting room for both their things combined.
"Ready?" Malfoy said, his voice resolute, and he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Can we take the Floo?" Harry asked.
"Fine." Malfoy rolled his eyes and walked over to the fireplace. "But we are going to Apparate back because it would sort of defeat the purpose of you showering, then taking this dirty Floo back. I need to look into getting this old thing cleaned."
"I can do that—"
"Not sure if the house will allow it," Malfoy said; he sounded almost respectful towards the house, as if he respected its magic.
Harry made a mental note to ask Malfoy what exactly he did for a living. He knew that Malfoy worked at the Ministry at the Department of Magical Equipment Control, but he wasn't sure what exactly that entailed.
"Shower's that way," Malfoy said, pointing towards the right of the hallway when they arrived back at his flat. He turned left towards his bedroom and closed the door. "Towels are in the cupboard," he shouted from behind the closed door.
At least he was a gracious host, Harry thought.
He quickly showered and changed back into the clothes he'd worn all day, feeling stupid for not being as prepared or alert as Malfoy. Malfoy it seemed, thought about everything. When Harry opened the door to the bathroom to step out, Malfoy was standing outside his bedroom door. It looked like he'd cleaned the place up a bit and Harry felt a strange tingle.
"I've put the flat under a protective spell," Malfoy said, reading Harry's expression.
Harry had felt the magic.
"I won't be sleeping here tonight, and who knows when I'll be sleeping here again, so I just wanted to leave it—"
"You don't have to explain it to me," Harry said, interrupting Malfoy. Judging by the look of discomfort on Malfoy's face, Harry could tell this wasn't just any old flat to Malfoy. This was Malfoy's home. Harry hadn't had a home in so long that he felt a bit envious of Malfoy's possessiveness towards it.
They Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, and Harry immediately charged towards his things. He wanted to give Malfoy his privacy and he needed to change out of his clothes and into fresh ones. He grabbed a pair of black trousers and a dark blue button down shirt and headed to the bathroom. When he emerged, Malfoy had the entire place set up like a studio flat.
Harry was surprised and he looked at Malfoy with his shocked expression. Malfoy's face was stoic as ever, but Harry could see the gleaming look of pride in Malfoy's grey eyes. Harry glanced over to the corner where he'd settled his belongings and saw a small cupboard. Malfoy had Transfigured the coffee table into a cupboard. A mirror hung on the wall next to it.
Harry opened the cupboard. "The right side is yours," Malfoy said, and Harry saw his things lying neatly inside, and then he looked over to the left and Malfoy's clothes were folded up nicely and his shoes were on the bottom level of the cupboard. "The left is mine, of course," Malfoy added.
Harry turned and nodded in acknowledgement. Harry couldn't help but think about how he was playing house with Malfoy. What was even more surprising was how Malfoy was so comfortable with the situation. It was as if he'd done this before.
"We have an hour before we are due at the Burrow," Harry said, unsure of what else to say. Everything in life was so uncertain. His own house wasn't allowing him to live there. Malfoy was settling into Harry's house. The house belonged to Malfoy. Where did Harry belong? The only place he could think of was the Burrow. Yeah, Harry would always belong with the Weasleys. Thankfully that wasn't going to change.
"Very well, I shall get ready," Malfoy said. He walked over to the cupboard, grabbed a few things and locked himself in the bathroom.
Harry watched him go and then turned his gaze back to the room. The only place to sit was Malfoy's bed. The furniture had all been shrunk. Harry was afraid to move something out of place, to touch Malfoy's set up. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of—the house's magic going awry or Malfoy going awry?
He settled himself on the bed, knocking off his shoes, and took in the room again. The bed was pushed against the wall and Harry couldn't help but wonder which side would he sleep on. Which side did Malfoy prefer?
Suddenly Harry's mind travelled over to the fact of whether or not Malfoy was seeing someone. Did he have sex on this bed? Harry closed his eyes to shun the idea out of his mind, but instead all he could think about was what Malfoy would look like when he came.
Merlin, what in the blood hell was wrong with Harry?
Malfoy opened the door to the bathroom and as steam poured out into the tiny room, Harry sprang up off the bed. He felt like a little kid who was almost caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do.
How was he going to live like this for a month? For six weeks?
Malfoy gave him a curious look, his eyebrow raised, and turned to the mirror that was next to the cupboard. He was straightening up his clothes and ran his hand through his hair before he grabbed his wand that was stored on his side of the cupboard and dried his hair to set it.
His hair settled comfortably on top of his head, parted on the right, and it looked so effortless.
"Are you going to gape at me the entire time we are forced to dwell together?" Malfoy said without turning. "I can feel your eyes on me, Potter."
"Right. Sorry." Harry cleared his throat and put his hands in his pocket. He looked around the room uncomfortably. "I just don't know—"
"Relax," Malfoy said, walking towards him. He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and slightly pushed them down. "If you're going to live here...you need to relax. You need to let the house feel like you want to be here."
"Is that why you did all this—"
"That's part of it, yes. I need to make the house accept me, my magic. Your presence." Malfoy gave Harry a stern look and Harry nodded. "The faster we do this, the better. We can maybe get out of this predicament before Granger's prediction."
"Six weeks."
"Yes. I am hoping for three."
"Why three?"
"Pansy and Blaise's wedding is coming up and if I cannot turn over the house to you by then, then—"
"Then I'm screwed." Harry knew he was overreacting, but couldn't help it.
Malfoy laughed. It was a strange sound to hear. Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Malfoy genuinely laugh before. Not like the ones when he was torturing Neville. "No. I reckon we might have to start from scratch or something. Not sure if you could live in the house by yourself for days, is all."
"Right," Harry said, and looked over at his watch. "We should head—"
"What's the occasion?" Malfoy asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Granger seemed rather tense about leaving on time, and you're very adamant about being on time—"
"The dinner at the Weasleys..." Harry said, not sure why he was nervous all of a sudden. "It's my birthday."
"Oh."
"It's actually—it's more of an engagement dinner for Neville and Ginny, and it was Neville's birthday yesterday—so it's just basically a big Weasley get together. Since Neville and I don't really have fam—"
"Oh."
Harry noticed the way Malfoy tensed up.
"What's the matter?"
"I didn't realise everyone was going to be there, I thought it was just Granger and Weasley. Perhaps I should stay."
"What? Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," Harry said, grabbing Malfoy's arm. Malfoy looked down at Harry's touch and Harry immediately removed his hand. "I mean, I can't come back here unless you're with me and you can't just stay here alone."
"I will just come and get you at the end of the evening."
"No. I don't even know what time we'll be done."
"But—"
"Let's just go, Malfoy," Harry said, and this time his hold on Malfoy tightened and he didn't let go, no matter the looks Malfoy gave him. "It's just a small gathering." Harry knew he was lying. There was nothing small about the evening's get together, but he didn't want Malfoy to stay alone at the house. Part of him was worried that if they spent time apart while he was there, then the house wouldn't recognise Harry, ever.
TBC