Malfoy Manor was huge! Harry had expected it to be big – mansion big – but this sprawling estate blew even his wildest, most far-fetched expectations away.

Harry followed Draco up the long, grandiose pathway that led from the property's main gate to the Manor's front entrance, feeling dwarfed by the massive bare-limbed frosted trees that lined the cobbled path, the enchanted fountain that shot jets of warm water and twinkling lights at least thirty feet into the air, and the looming shadow of the manor building, itself.

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy followed behind them, holding hands and leaning against each other with a casual affection that Harry had never seen from them, before. Seeing them with their guard down made Harry realize what it must be like to have not just a house, or a residence, but a home. This was the Malfoy's refuge, a place where they could be vulnerable with each other, knowing that they would be safe.

Harry tamped down a sudden stab of jealousy in his heart.

He was happy that Draco's family had a place like this. He was happy that he had been invited into it. He was just a little sad that he'd never have a place like this, of his own. The Malfoys were very nice, and very generous to Harry, but he was still an outsider here, and intruder into their little family. He wasn't a threat or an obstacle to their familial bonds, but he didn't quite fit, either.

That was okay, he decided firmly. He was grateful to get a glimpse of what a real family should be like. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to make one of his own, one day, and it would be helpful to have the Malfoy's as a reference, so he wouldn't screw it up. He could be content, for now, basking in the reflected warmth of someone else's love.

They made it to the manor's entrance, and Harry could not help but gawk as the large, ornate double doors swung open on their own, to reveal the most posh, decadent room he had ever seen. White marble, crystal chandeliers, gold and silver accents, intricate sculptures and art pieces, and massive portrait paintings filled, but never dominated, the large welcoming space. Hogwarts looked dingy, modest, and mundane in comparison.

Wealth claimed the space with an air of long-bred entitlement, as a matter of course, rather than being ostentatious or gauche.

Reflexively, Harry cast every cleaning charm he knew on himself, and straightened his robes. He understood, now, why Draco had developed the habit. This home demanded that its occupants live up to its standards, and no amount of familial love or welcoming acceptance could change that fact. Harry wished he had paid better attention to Draco's table manners and formal speech patterns. He had never thought of the Dursleys as poor, but compared to this palace, number four Privet Drive might as well be a cardboard box. He knew, without a doubt, that Aunt Petunia's insistence on 'please' and 'thank-you' would not be enough.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, afraid to sully the space with the sound of his voice.

Mrs. Malfoy tucked a lock of his unruly hair behind his ear, before it stubbornly sprang back. "Thank-you, dear. I grew up in a home of dark colors and shadows, so I may have overcompensated on making sure that my new home's first impression was one of open space and bright light. It accomplishes that task quite nicely, I feel, but it does make me afraid to sneeze too hard, lest I break something. I promise that the family wing of the manor is less intimidating."

Harry smiled at Draco's mom, silently thanking her for putting him at ease. She smiled back, and snuck a little wink at him, when neither her husband nor son were watching.

"Dobby!" Mr. Malfoy called out, his loud and clear voice echoing in the spacious room.

A house elf popped into existence and bowed low, first to Mr. Malfoy, and then to the rest of them. "You is calling, Master?"

Mr. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I am, Dobby. Take Mr. Potter's things to his rooms, and bring us hot chocolate for four in the sitting room."

The house elf's eyes widened to much that Harry was worried they would pop out of the poor creature's head. "The great Master Harry Potter is here? Dobby is permitted to serve wonderful Harry Potter?"

Harry felt his cheeks heat in a blush, and ducked his head.

"Stop that, Dobby," Mr. Malfoy said, sternly. "You're making our guest upset. He's just Master Harry, to you."

Dobby's eyes stayed wide, and began brimming with tears. "Dobby apologizes, Master Harry! Dobby did not mean offense! Dobby is a fooling elf, a bad, bad elf. Dobby will be ironing his ears!"

Harry was horrified. He locked eyes with Mr. Malfoy, who had been looking to make sure he was okay.

"That will not be necessary, Dobby," the man said. "You are a good elf, just a little over-excited, at times. I'm sure Masters Harry and Draco will be requiring your assistance in setting up a flying course for them within the next day or two. I want you in perfect health and injury free for when they call you."

Dobby bowed over an over again, making Harry's neck ache in sympathetic whiplash. "Yes Sir, great and kind Master Malfoy, Sir. Dobby will be ready for the young Masters, and will be bringing hot chocolate to Dobby's family right away, Sir."

"Thank-you, Dobby. Please allow a few minutes for Harry and Draco to settle into their rooms and freshen up before bringing the hot chocolate."

"Yes, Sir; right away, Sir! Dobby will wait with the hot chocolate at once, Sir!"

The elf disappeared with a soft pop, and Mr. Malfoy shook his head in fond exasperation. "He's a strange little elf," he said apologetically to Harry, "but he's harmless, I promise. Please feel free to call him at any time, if you need anything."

Harry nodded, but could not quite bring himself to meet Mr. Malfoy's eyes. "I will. Where did he get all of those ideas about me, anyways? I'm just Harry."

"You are far different, and far more, than those silly public rumors about you, Harry," Mrs. Malfoy said gently, "but you must understand that you are very important and very special to us. Dobby gets excited when we get excited, especially Draco, and I confess that all three of us have been looking forward to your visit. Dobby did not mean to make you uncomfortable, and neither did we. Can you forgive us?"

Harry shook his head. "No, Mrs. Malfoy, there's nothing to forgive. I was just worried that the paper had been printing more things about me that I hadn't noticed. They quieted down about me after the first month of school, and I was concerned that they'd started back up. The ministry winter ball thing is going to be awkward enough without any fresh rumors about me going around."

"Don't you worry about that, Harry," Mr. Malfoy said, with a confident smile. "We'll make sure they don't print anything bad about you, and we'll make sure that no one harasses you at the ball, no matter what crazy ideas they might have picked up. I would not have suggested bringing you along with us, if we could not keep you safe."

"Thanks, Mr. Malfoy. I'm still not used to stuff like that, you know?"

"I will happily teach you some tricks for dealing with unwanted attention. These are tips my father taught me when I was young, and they helped me a great deal. I'm sure they will serve you, too!"

"That would be great, Sir! …as long as it's not too much trouble."

"It will be no trouble at all, Harry. Now you and Draco get cleaned up, and we'll have your hot chocolate waiting for you. The elves always go all out for Holiday Hot Chocolate. You won't want to miss it!"

Draco grinned and tugged at Harry's arm. "Your rooms are this way! Dobby's hot chocolate is the best. He always enchants the little marshmallows to almost melt, but not quite, and makes them taste toasted, at the same time. It's amazing!"