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PseudonymousEntity

Friend or Foe

"Your worst Enemy could be your best Friend, and your best Friend could be your worst Enemy." -Marley

Summary: Draco being bullied by his father really pisses Harry off. Goblet of Fire.

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy.

Warnings: Suggestions?

AN: Comments, Thoughts, Questions, Theories and Limericks are always welcomed, in whatever order of importance you choose to give.

ANx2: One has to wonder if the Malfoy Manor is any safer than that forest.

Ever Yours, Pseu

"...if she doesn't scare you no evil thing will, to see her is to take a sudden chill

The curl of her lips, the ice in her stare, all innocent children had better beware

...she's like a spider waiting for the kill - Look Out!

This vampire bat, this inhuman beast; She oughta be locked up and never released."

-Cruella DeVil

chapter 6

It soon became clear that for once in his life fate had interfered on his behalf rather than against him. Lucius Malfoy had yet to return.

The man would never know that Harry had not brought his heir directly home nor that said heir had risked injury to warn other dark witches and wizards to flee. This was a blessing as much as it wasn't. Harry had to wonder just what the Lord was up to. He'd seemed less than impressed by his 'old crowds' actions. Had he hidden them away? Had he gone with them? It was tempting, standing next to the son of the man, not to ask for the answers to these questions. Anyone else probably would have without thinking much about it. Harry, however, was of the opinion Draco had gone through more than enough without being grilled for information on his abusive father.

Would he meet Lady Malfoy now? She had not been int he tent or least he had not seen her, and she had not been at the match either. Would she hex him if she saw the state her son was in and him standing there? Maybe she'd give him a chance to explain. His mind brought forth images of Molly Weasley if any of her children looked as banged up as Draco did -and admittedly Harry as well- right now. Perhaps he ought to allow Draco to walk a little ahead of him...just in case.

They walked together through the halls of the manor which was indeed a larger version of the tent Harry had been in previously. Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy's touches could be seen everywhere. Dark wood panels along the floors and the walls are broken only by patterns of white marble stone. Everything was heavier and sharper here. Even the scent of the place was dull and melancholy. It held none of the relaxed atmosphere of Draco's tent for all it's nearly identical features. No fountains. No flowers.

The home in its entirety was closed off and...well...pretend. All of it, the expensive furniture and the way it was set up, was to be impressive. It was for show. A museum of Artifice.

They were coming down a narrower strip of the hall between two wings when they found her. Tall and fair, draped in blue and ivory silks, the witch stood to their left sipping strongly on some drink or other from a fancy glass. A wizard who was decidedly not Lord Malfoy stood near her. In twirls of fine skirts and a tinkling of the long ropes of necklaces about her neck, she faced them. Pale fingers ran up the furs of some poor animal adorning her shoulders, dull gray eyes glancing over her son with little weight to them. Dismissive.

"Where is my husband Draco?"

The complete lack of inflection to her words startled Harry. Where Lucius Malfoy -right bastard as he might be- was smooth and passionate, this woman's voice was low and nearly monotone but for the darker bits licking in at the sides. There was just something about the way she spoke that had Harry struggling to keep his breathing even and relax his posture. Even Gryffindors knew better than to let on that they were afraid if they were able.

"Mother." Draco greeted. "Father is attending to the 'needs' of former associates or so I have been lead to believe. I'm just retiring to my wing."

Harry was certain this woman couldn't care less.

"Yes, yes." She said, flicking her hand like swatting a fly. "And who have you brought with you..." Lady Malfoy's words trailed off. Dull gray eyes zeroed in on Harry's brighter green ones, moving slowly up to where his scar lay hidden behind his fringe. None of the quickness everyone else exhibited when doing so. The blonde witch's examination of him was glacial. Harry put everything he ever learned at the Dursleys into play and stood as still he could with his face as expressionless as he could manage. He knew that sort of look. He'd grown up getting that sort of look, and he would let her see no cracks in his armor. But damn if it wasn't entirely different getting it from her than it was getting it from Aunt Marge.

"Mother, this is Harry Potter." Draco dutifully fulfilled social niceties though it obviously wasn't needed.

Her eyes turned to Draco before Harry could figure out a proper greeting. She raised her glass mockingly. "Stowing away the wizarding savior in your father's house? Darling, this is the most interesting thing you've ever done." Narcissa turned up the glass and finished the liquid off. Dull eyes surveying the equally blonde teenager across from her. "Perhaps you should clean yourselves up. You look like you've been through a battle." Her lips curled up the smallest bit at the ends. No concern. No care. No interest.

It just made Harry burn.

As she turned back, dismissing her son, Harry found himself speaking. "Clearly, m'lady, if you find this interesting you've not been paying your son much attention." The implications -Lucius' treatment of him, his spot on the school team, his place as second in his year, his possible death at an angry mob- were numerous.

Narcissa's eyes flickered for the smallest moment then faded back to blank and dull. "Clearly." She gave him a slight nod, which Harry was certain bore nothing good for him in the future, and turned from them deliberately. Too classy to stomp or to shriek to show her displeasure -which Harry had to give her credit for- she merely approached the still unknown wizard, relieved him of his drink and finished it as well. The poster child of indifference she waved over her shoulder, opened the double doors behind her and entered the room without giving her son a second glance. It gave them a brief glimpse of a small ballroom with other witches and wizards inside. A party Harry supposed.

One Draco was not welcome at.

Harry stood beside Draco in the too cold corridor long after his mother left them there. Too cold in temperature and in feeling. This was the home Draco had grown up in? A father expecting too much of him and a mother expecting nothing. It was quite a feat in a place so full of stuff to feel so alone. For the home to feel so empty. What a horrible place to live.

Finding Draco's wing Harry was given a short tour. Stepping inside Draco's 'social room' the change was immediate. A slight floral scent met them along side calm tones in colour. It was wide and open with flowers and plants covering most surfaces. Large windows made up most of the wall space. Draco shut the doors to his part of the manor and waved his wand. Sealing them in or the world out Harry couldn't be sure. He settled on one of the giant floor cushions spread throughout the sitting area.

Draco retrieved books from a shelf near the door. Two he handed to Harry, the other he kept. He sat across from Harry and began reading his book. Shrugging Harry looked at the books he'd been given. One was thinner and from his quick skimming of it seemed to be a history of the summer training camp. The one beneath it an introduction to basic wizarding etiquette.

He felt his breath rush from him in a whoosh as tension he hadn't known he'd felt was lifted. Faking his way through one or two conversations with one person was fine. He hadn't realized how worried he was about making a fool of himself at this sporting summer camp thing he was going to. Determined Harry read them both carefully. He was pleasantly surprised at the information's presentation. It was hardly the dry murmurings of professor Binn's history lessons.

Harry read about status and titles, greetings and invitations. Posture and handshakes and nods and smiles. All of it could mean something different to different people at different times. He resolutely refused to look over any of his previous behavior with students he knew were pureblood. He'd probably made a right fool of himself. The training camp was interesting as well. A variety of competitive activities were held, the main events an obstacle course of some kind at the opening and a race at the end. There were workshops on broomcrafting, racing, quidditch and things he hadn't ever heard of. Harry soon found himself excited for the mysterious camp.

The Gryffindor glanced up in irritation sometime later in response to a bright light in his face. He dropped his scowl and blinked. The sun was rising. Had he been reading all night? Green eyes flickered over and yes Draco was awake and reading as well. Well didn't they make a lovely pair of wannabe Ravenclaws?

"Draco."

"Potter." Said Draco, eyes remaining on his book.

Harry suppressed a grin. "It's morning Draco."

"Don't be absurd." Draco looked up. "It isn't anywhere near..." Silver eyes widened fractionally. "Oh."

Five minutes later Harry was standing in Draco's bathroom. Or 'bathing room' as the blonde called it. Harry could see the distinction. The room was bloody well bigger than any bathroom had the right to be and he'd been inside of the prefect's bathroom before. There was no swimming pool sized bath. Rather there were mirrors and counters running the length of the room with pitchers of hot water and large bowls. There were things for scrubbing and softening, and smoothing and other things that were somehow not the same thing.

Draco chose a spot. From one of many cylinder objects on the counter, he removed a sachet, lifted it to his nose then placed it in the bowl. Curiosity had Harry copying him. The little cloth packets had herbs in them he discovered, with different scents. Draco then poured hot water from the pitcher into the bowl. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Harry thought he looked like he was meditating standing up.

Draco lifted his hand before him and moved it away from him in a shallow curve. "Eluo."

A soft breeze of something whirled around him, ruffling his hair and clothing. When it died down Draco opened his eyes. He was brighter it seemed. More energized. When he noticed Harry staring he raised a pale brow. "I'm not the matinée Potter."

Harry tilted his head. "What was that?"

Draco turned to face him. "My morning cleansing. Why, how does the great Harry Potter do it?"

"Your morning...cleansing," Harry repeated.

Draco's face morphed from taunting to disbelief to something unreadable. Draco reached out and pointed at the different cylinders. On the lid of each was a marking of some kind Harry could not read. He thought they might be runes or similar. "Tension. Intuition. Health. Perspective..." Draco named the off one by one. At the end, he picked up the one he'd used and brought out a sachet and handed it to him.

Not entirely sure what they were doing Harry set in in his bowl like he'd seen Draco do.

"It's Peppermint and Rosemary." Explained Draco. "For focus, clear thinking and energy. Add the water."

Harry did. Almost right away the scents swirled up to him. "Like that? Now what?"

"Take in a deep breath and close your eyes," Draco instructed. "You must gather up all of your emotions, positive or negative. Find each one you feel even if you only have the remnants of it. Acknowledge the emotion and its cause. Are you doing that?"

Listening to the blonde's voice Harry gave a nod, doing his best to visualize. He decided to think of his emotions as small balls like snitches with their title engraved on them. One at a time he caught them and put them into an imaginary basket. "Next?" He murmured when he was sure he'd done it.

"Now you let them go. Usually using a physical movement to coincide with your idea of letting something go helps with this part. The goal is to release yesterday so you have room for today. It will help to clear your mind, settle your emotions and clear out the sediment of magicks you use or encountered the day before. When you're ready, release it all."

Harry held up his hand like a fist in front of himself, in his mind imagining it holding tightly to the end of bag carrying all these things. Feeling ridiculous he moved it forward a bit and pretended to loosen enough for the 'bag' to opened and everything inside to fly away. "Eluo." The bag slowly emptied and then he felt it. Harry didn't have a word for 'it'. He didn't think there was a word. Something moved about him, warm and cool at once. It moved along his face and the skin of his arms and through his tangled curls. He was being filled with something and yet felt so open and full of space. A bit dazed Harry opened his eyes. The world more colourful than he'd every seen it.

Harry turned to Draco and asked in a quiet voice. "Was that my magic?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He swallowed, still reeling. "And we do it because?"

"It clears our minds and our magic. Most of us are instructed to do so as soon as we can sit still. It is considered healthy to do so. It will help you concentrate and your magic will perform better when it doesn't have pieces of other magic stuck to it."

"I don't suppose you have a book on stuff like this?"

Draco gave him a nod. "I suppose I might."

And that was that. Draco did not comment on what was apparently a large hole in Harry's magical education. Rather they went through the rest of the blonde's morning rituals. Harry learning helpful spells along the ways. Ones to clean his fingernails and ones to dry himself off after his bath without waiting to towel dry. The best thing from it was a bottle handed to him after squeezing some into h is hands. Without asking for permission Draco ran it through Harry's hair. To his disbelief, the Slytherin's long fingers weren't inescapably caught in tangles and before his eyes, his wild locks came together in a sleeker, more controlled fashion.

"Huh." Said, Harry.

They dressed and had breakfast in a small dining area in Draco's wing.

While he was eating it occurred to Harry that he knew several halfbloods and muggleborn who had been at the cup. He borrowed parchment from Draco and sent out polite inquiries on their health, feeling like the worst friend ever because he had not thought of them once during the danger and excitement of the previous night.

Eventually, they could put it off no longer.

Not unless they wanted a brigade of Weasleys or aurors at the door. Draco brought him to his floo room. Along the way the two of them skirted around Lady Malfoy who lounged on a couch with a drink her hand, dull eyes following their progress. She gave Harry the absolute chills and he was quite glad to put distance between them and her. In Draco's hand was an information packet he intended to give to Mister Weasley as reassurance. Harry didn't think the red haired man would change his mind like that but it made Draco feel better so he let it be. Privately Harry thought any excuse to keep Draco away from his horrid parents was good enough for him to let the blonde come along.

Harry called out the address and they stepped through together.

Pseudonymous Entity

2017

"Hell is empty. And all the Devils are here." -Shakespeare

Notes:

Comments, Questions, Theories, Suggestions, Guesses and Limericks always welcomed.

AN: What do you make of Narcissa?

ANx2: Be sure to check out Pseu's Poll! This is your chance to have your say on which stories Pseu should update more often.

-Pseu