A/n: Good day y'all :D And here goes another chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter. 4 Out of Luck
Harry didn't need to turn around to recognize that sneering tone. It was the one that had sent him into an unprecedented rage a week before.
The two eight-year olds and the one seven-year old watched warily as the grey-eyed boy approached them. Harry remembered he'd said his name was Malfoy. He wasn't alone though. Two rather large boys flanked him, and a dense-looking girl followed. They outnumbered the trio. Not to mention that their being older was intimidating. Two or three years made a big difference at that age.
Harry's rebellious and antagonistic feeling towards grey-eyes showed its little head again. It was poking at his stomach with a white-hot needle.
"I hadn't expected to find you here." Malfoy continued, his tone and expression rather cryptic this time.
Hermione and Ron glanced nervously at Harry, understanding that those two had met previously. Green-eyes kept his gaze fixed on grey-eyes. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, but it seemed a good idea not to lose sight of his opponent.
"So?" Harry challenged. "Is that a problem?"
Just as Malfoy-boy opened his mouth to respond, another voice resounded through the partially emptied hallway (most students had exited the building already, impatient to start their weekends).
"What is happening here?" An ice-cold voice demanded. Everyone present turned their eyes to the newcomer: a tall stern woman, towering over them all and watching them with a hawk-like gaze. Miss Snape's high heels came to an abrupt stop. Even the silence seemed loaded with threats.
"Nothing, miss Snape." Malfoy said. He seemed to be the least afraid of the teacher.
"We were getting to know the new students." The girl behind Malfoy volunteered.
"Were you creating trouble for my students?" Miss Snape snapped at the younger trio.
"Of course not!" Hermione exclaimed, seemingly horrified by the idea of going against the school establishment in any way.
Miss Snape raised an eyebrow at her, a cynical expression on her face. "Do you make a habit of talking back to teachers, miss Granger? And in such a rude manner?"
"She didn't mean it that way!" Ron interjected, which won him a surprised look from his two companions.
"You too, Mr Weasley?" Miss Snape's eyes filled with a kind of black poison as she fixed Ron's flaming hair. "I've suffered quite enough ridiculousness from your older brothers. I warn you, I will have no patience or tolerance for any misbehaviour on your part."
Again, the unfair treatment of him and his friends triggered something in Harry. For the first time, he realised something in him had drastically changed since his life had been turned upside down. A fierce urge to protect the ones around him, the ones close to him, had made its appearance. He would succeed in keeping his new loved ones away from danger, where he had failed before.
"We haven't done anything!" He said vehemently.
Miss Snape's eyes narrowed as her eyes fell on the small head of raven feathers. Harry opened his mouth again, intending to explain what had happened, but he was cut off.
"Enough!" Miss Snape's voice wasn't loud, but it was razor-sharp. "All three of you, detention all next week." The trio's mouths fell open wide in consternation. "And you Malfoy," she addressed her own student, "I expected better of you than to mingle with the Waesley kind."
Her knee-length black sweater flapped around her as she turned and walked away, followed by Malfoy's group. Grey-eyes was last in line. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder just before they turned the corner, an amused smile playing around his lips.
"A Week? A week?" Ron raged as they walked out the doors onto the playground. "We didn't do a single thing and we get a week? Fred and George only got a week when they set off firecrackers in the principal's office, or when they hid a rat in a teacher's desk drawer, or when they poured a bucket of oil right at the main entrance, or when…"
"Yeah yeah, we got it, Ron." Harry waved it off. He'd heard of the twin's great achievements already. He wasn't in the mood to listen again. He was more disturbed by the white-haired boy's expression as he walked away. There had not only been amusement at their predicament. He was sure he'd seen something else, but he could not pin down what.
So this Malfoy is in this school too? Harry hadn't paid much attention to anyone outside his own class. Miss Snape taught two grades above theirs. So Malfoy had to be three years older than Harry, just like Ron's twin brothers.
Hermione on the other hand was completely silent all the way to the gate. She seemed lost in thought or shock, unable to utter a sound. She didn't look back at the boys as she stepped into her father's car and disappeared.
Mrs. Weasley questioned the two boys about their tardiness. The other members of the Weasley herd had reached the school gate much earlier. Ron had no choice but to tell his mother about the detention. He would have to stay late after school every day for a week, forcing Mrs. Weasley to come pick up her kids twice instead of once. Saying she was displeased was an understatement. And though she did not seem to lay any blame on Harry, for once, he was relieved to split off and make his way to the Dursley home. At least, one punishment would end before the next one began, he thought. Though he wasn't sure how his uncle and aunt would react to the news of his detention.
The weekend was spent in much the same way as always. Harry stayed put in his room now that the weather had worsened considerably, and tried to keep out of uncle Vernon's way. He'd been able to disguise his bruises as a fall from the swings the first time. He wasn't sure if Mrs. Weasley and the school nurse would accept that excuse a second time.
The raven tried to keep himself busy with homework, thinking that at least Hermione wouldn't be able to criticize him anymore. He sometimes opened his magician book and reread a chapter at random; but the pictures of his family stayed safely hidden under his loose floorboard.
After each long weekend, Harry was eager to go back to school; to see his friend, to throw him conspiratory glances during classes, to share some of Mrs. Weasley's delicious food. That particular Monday didn't look so good to him though. He'd never had detention before, but he felt quite certain miss Snape would make sure it was anything but enjoyable.
So it was a pleasant surprise when the time came of their punishment, and it turned out it would be another teacher keeping an eye on them. Harry didn't know her, but according to Ron, she was pretty dense and easy to fool. It would turn out all right after all.
Harry, Ron and Hermione began on their homework of the day, each keeping their noses glued to their sheets, while the teacher settled at her desk with a girly magazine in hand. He wasn't sure, but Harry thought he heard Hermione snort when she saw the pink-invaded cover.
An hour into the detention, some ruckus sounded outside the classroom. The four of them looked up at the door leading into the hallway. It steadily became louder, and the teacher got up and slapped her magazine shut on the desk with an exasperated sigh. The trio waited until they heard the clickety of her heels reach the end of the corridor.
"So, are you going to tell us why we're here?" Hermione asked.
Harry didn't like her demanding tone, as if it was all his fault they were here. It is kind of my fault though. He told himself, even if he hadn't done anything wrong in his opinion.
"Yeah, mate." Ron agreed, making Harry feel like he was being ganged up on. "What happened with that Malfoy? Fred and George told me about him last weekend. They say he's the most arrogant git they've ever had the privilege to know."
Green-eyes stared at his sheet of math homework. If his reading and language skills were excellent, his math skills were abysmal. He sighed as he thought about what he could tell them.
"I don't really know what his problem is." He frowned at a mistake he spotted in his exercises. "I met him at the park in my neighbourhood. Turns out he lives quite close to me."
"What happened?" Hermione insisted. "You didn't do or say anything to him?"
"I…well…I kind of said some bad words to him." Harry bit his lip. Maybe Malfoy had a good reason for hating him. He couldn't exactly remember what it was that had made him so angry at the white blond head.
"Like what?"Ron asked, interested in which insults his friend had dared use.
"'Shut up' and…and 'quid'." Harry said, then remembered he had forgotten what that last word meant.
"Wait, you called him a quid?" Ron sounded surprised.
"What does quid mean?" Harry asked the redhead.
"It's a British slang word for pounds, the money." Hermione interjected. Oh. It made sense to Harry now, why Malfoy had burst out laughing at his wrong usage of the word. "But why would you get angry at someone you just met?" Hermione continued, determined to get to the bottom of things it seemed.
"Didn't you hear what I said?" Ron answered, slightly annoyed that Hermione had cut him off. "He's an enormous git. By the way, Harry, you might want to use that word next time instead of 'quid'." He stifled a chuckle.
"Still, there's no reason…"
Hermione wouldn't let go, but she was forced to when the teacher entered the classroom once more, and the three punished students had to get back to their tasks.
It was the middle of the week, and the trio was already sick of the detentions. They had glimpsed Malfoy in the corridors or on the playground from time to time, still wearing a sneer on his face.
"He certainly shows signs of narcissism." Hermione had muttered darkly as they'd passed him in the hallway. Ron had looked at her as if she were an alien, then had turned to Harry with a questioning look. But Harry wasn't in the mood to explain to his friend what 'narcissism' meant (he'd read a compilation of Greek mythology during the summer, including the tale of Narcissus), he was more preoccupied with the monster howling in his stomach. It was the arrogant blond-head's fault that he, Ron and Hermione were condemned to five days of mind numbing boredom. (Actually, Hermione didn't seem to mind the detentions themselves, she always had time to study, but her pride had been hurt by it.)
It was cold and nearly dark when the three of them were finally allowed to go home on Wednesday. The sky was rapidly changing to a dark blue shade, and the street-lights had come to life. Hermione's mother was already there, waiting in her car. Hermione smiled at both boys and then quickly slid into the car, which sped away. It looked like a comfortable way to get home, the boys thought.
Ron had already put on gloves and a hat, even though it was still early October, but Harry didn't have anything like that. He hadn't thought to take any winter clothing with him when he'd had to pack his clothes. He'd merely emptied his own closet, never thinking about the downstairs closet, which held all gloves, earmuffs or scarves. And asking the Dursleys to buy anything for him was futile, he knew.
The raven rubbed his hands together, then shoved them into his jacket pockets. When that no longer helped, the boys decided to start jumping on the spot while they waited.
Luckily, ten minutes later, Mrs. Weasley showed up, slightly out of breath.
"I'm so sorry, boys!" She exclaimed. "Your father had to go back to work unexpectedly, and I had to help him find a file he needed." She told her son.
The boys were just thankful they could finally go. In fact, Harry could've gone a long time ago. Mrs. Weasley wasn't his mother. She could only prohibit her own son from going home alone. But Harry was of course in no hurry to go back to his extended family, and even if he had been, he still would've stayed by his friend's side.
Mrs. Weasley seemed even happier his was the case and gave him an extra warm hug for staying with her 'Ronnie'. The three of them walked at a quick pace to keep warm, while Mrs. Weasley told Ron what was for dinner tonight. Apparently, the redhead would get pizza in his belly tonight. If aunt Petunia ever allowed pizza into the house, it would all disappear into Dudley and uncle Vernon's mouths. Harry thought dejectedly. The Dursleys would already have eaten when he'd come home, and he'd be very lucky if aunt Petunia had left him cold leftovers from a few days back. It wasn't exactly appetizing. Harry hated cold potatoes, but it was something at least. He wasn't at all picky with his food anymore. He'd learned to appreciate every single mouthful. Though he would still prefer Mrs. Weasley's delicious baked goods that the red-haired children regularly shared with him.
Because of their faster pace, the time to part came sooner than usual, and Harry waved at the mother and son before they disappeared behind the next corner.
He didn't like going through the park in the dark (the darkness made him feel like he was entering a forbidden forest full of dangerous creatures), so this week he'd always taken the longer route around it. But when he was still ten minutes away from Privet Drive, the dark skies suddenly decided to tear open upon him. In a matter of seconds, Harry felt like entire buckets were being emptied on top of his head; he was quickly soaked through. He took off his schoolbag and clutched it in his arms in an attempt to keep the content dry. The last thing he needed was for all the work he'd done during detention to get lost, and to have to start all over again.
He began to run through the streets when a dark 4x4 pulled over next to him. The raven stopped short and looked warily at the car. It looked like a large famished beast in the nightly shadows and curtains of rainfall.
The window on his side slid down with a buzzing noise, revealing a middle-aged woman with a graceful white-blond braid slung over her shoulder. Harry instantly recognized her as the woman he'd seen fighting with Malfoy, the first time he'd seen him, not far from there. She was undoubtedly his mother.
Automatically, Harry leaned forward to look past the woman. And there indeed, seated in the front seat next to her was the older boy. He seemed to be intentionally ignoring Harry and looking out his window.
"Poor kid!" Malfoy's mother exclaimed in concern. "Quick, hop on in. I'll take you home." She offered. But she didn't leave the dark-haired boy much of a choice when she opened one of the back doors. "Come on, don't worry." She encouraged when she saw his hesitation. Harry's parents had always told him not to trust strangers. But she wasn't really a stranger, was she? He didn't know her personally, but he knew she wasn't dangerous…was she? "You're going to catch a cold like this. Come on!"
Harry was chilled to the bones. Every part of him was trembling and he couldn't feel his fingers or toes. In the end, he decided the woman looked much too gentle to be a big bad wolf, and he jumped up to the high seats of the 4x4 car.
As soon as he'd pulled the door closed behind him, the woman turned around in her seat to look at him.
"Thank you." Harry told her timidly as he fixed the floor, which his feet couldn't reach.
"With pleasure." The woman smiled. It was a warm smile, though more contained and elegant than Mrs. Weasley's. It made Harry more uncomfortable. "Draco recognized you, and I could never let a kid walk alone in this weather, you poor child."
Harry's eyes widened in surprise and directed them at the only person who's name could be Draco. But he did not get a chance to see the cold and mocking grey eyes again. Malfoy stubbornly turned away as he talked to his mother. "I didn't say you could let him into the car." He muttered unhappily.
"Draco!" She scolded. "Have some manners."
The ten-year old simply shrugged, and the woman didn't seem to want to start another fight in front of her guest, so she smiled apologetically at Harry and turned back to peer through the windshield.
"So…" She paused and turned back to the raven.
"Harry." He offered, understanding her questioning look.
"Harry," she repeated and turned the engine back on. "Where is your home? We need to get you back to your parents so that they can get you dry as quickly as possible. It's really unhealthy for a boy your age to be exposed to such dreadful weather."
Harry heard the same tone in her voice as Mrs. Weasley's whenever she commented about the seemingly lack of concern from his 'parents'. He'd never come up with the courage to tell her his real situation, or even his two new friends.
Harry hoped the woman wouldn't want to meet his 'parents'. He debated quickly whether he should give her a wrong address to make sure she'd never cross paths with the Durlseys, but he was too cold and tired to invent one, or to walk home in the pouring rain after she dropped him off somewhere else. "Number four Privet Drive." He told her.
She nodded and they were off. It was really only a few streets further, but she still insisted on making conversation. She was a woman who stood on manners and etiquette, and taking care of her guests was part of it. In that way, she reminded Harry a little of Lily Evans-Potter.
"Draco told me you attend the same school, but you seem much younger." She began politely.
"I'm seven, madam." Harry replied stiffly.
"Oh, you can call me Narcissa." She flashed a smile at him through the rear-view mirror. The raven nodded shyly. He'd gotten used to talking to Mrs. Weasley, but even so, he didn't feel very comfortable around adults.
Narcissa Malfoy tried to get her son to say something a few times, but the boy was determinedly keeping his mouth shut and his arms crossed, moodily glaring in front of him. It was better that way anyway, Harry thought. The only thing that could ever come out of his mouth was an insult. Clearly, like with Ron, that was no option in front of his mother, and the raven was thankful for that.
In the end, Narcissa gave up on trying to get the boys to get along and had to let Harry go. He thanked her profusely, apologised for soaking her seats, and quickly ran to the door. But he immediately noticed something strange: there was no light. Usually, at this time, they were clustered in front of the television, watching some boring variety show. They left the door unlocked for they didn't want to get up to let Harry in, or give him a key. Harry frowned in confusion as he turned the knob and pushed.
Nothing moved.
He tried again, not believing that the Dursleys would go so far as to leave, knowing he would be locked out.
Apparently, they had. Or they had simply forgotten him. It seemed to be their goal in life to make him invisible, or at least miserable.
The raven felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to cry. After the detention, the cold and the rain, the stressful encounter with his enemy's mother, he could not take the realization that he would spend the next few hours, maybe even the whole night out here. He was sure to freeze to death!
"Are you locked out, Harry?"
Narcissa had run up to the door behind Harry with a magazine covering her head. She looked surprised and concerned. Harry hadn't realized the car hadn't left yet. He didn't know what to tell her. How would he explain this?
"Uh, I think they're gone." He said. "Probably a misunderstanding." He added sheepishly.
The woman pursed her lips. She seemed both surprised at the young boy's vocabulary, and suspicious of his words. But keeping to good manners, she did not enquire further and instead, offered him to take him to her home, where he could change into a dry pair of clothes and call his parents.
Harry found no other option than to accept. What would she think if he insisted on staying out there in the wind and rain and dark? Besides, it's not like he wanted to. But he wasn't sure if accepting her proposition would worsen his situation with his family. They seemed to dislike anything that made Harry happy, and everyone who wasn't horrible with him.
The raven boy followed Malfoy's mother passively, all the way to her home, where she immediately set out to find him some clothes. She took him with her up the beautiful marble stairs in the largest house Harry had ever visited. There were even rugs on the floor. It felt wonderful to Harry to walk on them in his socks and dig his toes into them.
"I kept some of Draco's old clothes here somewhere…" She mused aloud as she rifled through a closet in what looked like a guest room (there was no sign of any personal belongings).
A few minutes later, Harry had changed into a fresh set of clothes and Mrs. Malfoy (as he'd started calling her for it felt more comfortable) had wrapped a towel around his head. He sat on the couch in the beautiful living room (Aunt Petunia would've turned green at the sight of the furniture), and sipped a cup of delicious warm milk. The boy whose name, Harry had just learned, was Draco, was sunk into a single armchair, his untouched milk getting cold on the table in front of him. He seemed in a thunderous mood and had refused to say a word, even to his mother.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. Even the feathery-soft cushions couldn't put him at ease in this climate. He wasn't sure if he was sorry for invading on the grey-eyed boy's territory, or if he was irritated by his hostility.
"Harry, I haven't been able to reach either of the numbers you gave me." Mrs. Malfoy said as she walked in with her cell-phone in hand. "Are you sure you didn't mistake a digit?"
Harry nodded assuredly. He knew as he gave the numbers that no one would answer. The first one was the Durley's house phone, which they wouldn't take because they weren't home. The second one was his mother's cell-phone. Or had been, anyway. It was obvious no one would answer that now, unless the number was given to another person.
The tired and worried mother sighed, not knowing what to do with a stranger's child in her home. Surely, his parents had to be worried sick not knowing where their little boy was, she thought. She knew by experience that she'd go crazy if she ever lost her Draco, her only son.
"All right then." She decided on the spot. "Both of you hop into the bath, and after dinner, off to bed."
Draco grumbled something intelligible, but if his expression was any indication, the words hadn't been of a kind nature. "Draco!" Narcissa Malfoy chastised. "Be a little more mature, will you. You're older but of the two of you, you act the most like a child."
That had hit a tender spot. What ten-year old likes to be called a child, and in front of their enemy? Grey-eyes immediately straightened, unconsciously trying to make himself look taller. Narcissa made sure to keep her amusement hidden.
"You know how to run a bath don't you?" Narcissa tried to make it sound as if she were appointing him a very complex and important task. "Make sure our guest has some pyjamas and a towel, and fill the bathtub while I prepare a quick meal." She added a blink for good measure. The blonde perked up and took his tasks seriously. It was not with a smile on his face that he took the dark-haired boy upstairs, but at least, he felt it was his responsibility as the older one to make sure the younger one had everything he needed. When Draco set out to do something, he did it well.
Once the two children under her care had washed separately and eaten their soup and sandwiches, Narcissa settled Harry into the guest-room. She felt it would be more than Draco could take if she let his room be invaded unwillingly. He'd clearly made an effort, it was enough.
Harry smiled as the kind and reserved woman bade him goodnight and closed the door. The sudden darkness didn't feel nearly as oppressive here as it did in his room at number four Privet Drive. Maybe it was because this room was so much bigger than any he'd had, he mused. His glasses were on the night stand so he couldn't really see, but just the fact that he was lying in a double bed made him realize how big the place was, and it was exhilarating.
He rolled to the other side of the bed, then spread out his limbs as if making an angel in the snow. It seemed like the bed had no boundaries. What a delicious feeling it was. And what a bliss to fall asleep after a hot bath, a full meal, a gentle 'goodnight' and with his head rested on a wonderfully fluffy pillow.
