It had been an exhausting day for Harry, so far. Draco had woken him up early to go flying. They had done quidditch drills, and seekers battles until Draco's parents had been awake enough to come and approve Dobby's latest obstacle course.

It had been brilliantly fun, but not even the pleasure and freedom of heights and speed had been enough to erase the stress of the Ministry's investigation, or the questions raised from his father's letter.

As always, Draco had better technique and speed on his broom in the straightaways, but Harry's recklessness gave him an edge in navigating sharp turns and near-collision maneuvers. Every time Professor Snape's face frowned at him from behind prison bars, or Madame Longbottom accused Harry of being a Death Eater, or Harry's father looked at Harry's Slytherin robes, choice in friends, and mistakes, and took back his unconditional support, Harry pushed himself further.

He laughed maniacally, as he pulled off a barrel roll maneuver a hair's breadth from crashing into one of three overlapping cushioned obstacles that Dobby had spinning around each other in a particularly difficult section of the course. The wind stung his eyes, and Draco cursed behind him.

"Harry! Draco!" Mr. Malfoy called, with a sonorous-enhanced voice. "Come down and eat something before you make the house elves cry!"

"Hey Dad," Draco called out, as he trailed Harry to the ground, "can you teach me and Harry some dueling spells today?"

"Or some meditation techniques that actually bloody work," Harry grumbled, failing to hide his annoyance of his flying time being cut short.

"Meditation?" Mr. Malfoy asked, guiding both boys toward the toilet nearest to the dining room to clean up.

"Professor Snape suggested it," Draco said, giving his wand an elaborate twirl.

"He said it would help with our spell-work," Harry explained, "and he said it would make learning Occlumency easier."

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Yes, Occlumency it a good idea for both of you. Harry, has anyone told you to avoid eye contact with adults you don't trust?"

Harry looked at Mr. Malfoy, then dropped his gaze quickly, as their eyes met. "Professor Snape mentioned it, but I'm not very good at it… obviously."

Mr. Malfoy chuckled. "Well, if you do trust me, Harry, I might be able to help you. I've never been one for meditation, myself, but there are other ways to learn Occlumency. They are less pleasant, and more intrusive than Professor Snape's proposed method. I'd likely catch a glimpse or more of the memories you'd least like me to see, but it is a more wands out approach, if you're willing to give it a chance. I won't be offended if you say no."

"I… I'll think about it," Harry hedged.

Mr. Malfoy nodded. "Just let me know if you decide you'd like to give it a try. I promise that I'll stop if you give me a signal, no questions asked."

"Thanks," Harry said, weakly.

"Can you teach me, too?" Draco asked excitedly.

"Of course, I will," Mr. Malfoy said, "but it would be better if I taught you each separately, at least to start. The less distractions, the better."

"I'm not distracting," Draco pouted.

"No, you're just my little chaos monster," Mr. Malfoy said, ruffling a disgruntled Draco's hair. "But even still, it will be easier for Harry, without you there. Confronting secrets is hard enough alone."

"Fine," Draco drawled, "but can you teach us some cool spells, too? I want to beat Pucey in a duel, by the end of the year."

"Adrien? He's a third year, isn't he?"

Draco nodded. "He said my stinging hex tickled, last time we dueled, and said I had a girl's hair, after it got loose in the fight. He needs to pay."

"You'll have your work cut out for you."

"I'm not afraid of hard work," Draco said, offended.

"No? Weren't you the one who faked a case of dragonpox the last time your mother told you to clean your room?"

"It could have been!" Draco insisted, sulking. "I had a fever and everything!"

Mr. Malfoy smirked at Harry over Draco's head and rolled his eyes. "You were red in the face from the tantrum you'd just thrown. You didn't even have a single spot on you."

"Well, I'm willing to work hard when it's for something that's not stupid, then," Draco said, clinging to the dignity of his compromise.

Harry laughed, and poked Draco in the ribs. Draco yelped and launched himself at Harry.

Mr. Malfoy casually grabbed Draco off of Harry, and held him off the ground until Draco begged to be put down.

"Not fair," Draco groused. "You're picking sides."

Mr. Malfoy winked at Harry. "You think I'm brave enough to attack the Boy Who Lived?! I heard he stood up to both the Head of the DMLE and the Head Auror last night. I might be a powerful man, but I'm not a Gryffindor."

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco laughed. "What if Harry had me hostage? Would you be a Gryffindor, then?"

Mr. Malfoy swept Draco up into a tight hug. "To you keep you safe? I'd even grow a Dumbledore beard, and you know I hate to look ridiculous."

Mrs. Malfoy met them in the dining room, looking elegant, as always. She gave Harry a warm smile, before walking around the table to give her husband and son a hug. "Would you like a hug, Harry?"

Harry paused to consider. He'd had very few hugs in his young life, and the few he'd had had been practically forced on him. Or, he remembered with embarrassment, he had forced them on someone else, like with Mr. Malfoy the night before. Accepting a hug from Mrs. Malfoy seemed like a big step, like an important rite of passage into truly belonging with this perfect family, in their perfect manor. It would make it so much more painful, if he ever lost them.

Still, the ambitious took chances to get what they wanted, so tentatively and with a rosy blush to his cheeks, Harry nodded.

Mrs. Malfoy's arms wrapped around Harry's body like a silk robe, light and airy, but comfortable and protective. Harry leaned into the hug, holding Mrs. Malfoy close, and getting an accidental sniff of her apple-blossom scented hair. Mrs. Malfoy rubbed Harry's back and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'm so happy that you've decided to share your Christmas with us, Harry," she whispered into his ear.

Harry shuddered and pulled back. "You're welcome, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said courteously, even though he knew that she was just being polite. Harry had always been a burden, and that would never change, even if he was a fun playmate for her son.

Her smile turned sad, for a moment, but she let him go without comment, and gestured for everyone to take their seats.

Plates loaded with blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon appeared before each of them, along with a common bowl of fresh fruit, and pitchers of various kinds of syrup and cream.

Harry barely contained his groan of delight when he took his first bite, and tasted chocolate chips hidden amongst the blueberries. Mrs. Malfoy had warned Dobby to ease off the chocolate for Harry and Draco, since Christmas offered too many opportunities to fill up on sweets, without any extra help, but Dobby had snuck come into Harry's food, anyways.

Sure enough, as Harry casually looked around the room, he spotted Dobby peeking out from behind a corner, watching them. Harry smiled, and subtlety raised his fork to Dobby in a salute, before shoveling his next bite into his mouth.

Dobby waved and popped away. Harry took another bite, careful not to leave any chocolate smeared on his fork or face. The last thing he wanted was to get the crazy little elf in trouble.

After breakfast, Harry asked Draco to give him a minute, and tentatively stepped up to Mr. Malfoy.

"Sir, do you have time to help me with something?"

"What is it, Harry?" Mr. Malfoy asked, leading Harry to his public study, when he saw the serious look on Harry's face.

Harry reverently pulled out his father's letter and handed it over. "I opened this last night, and I don't recognize most of the names in it. I was wondering if you knew who Sirius, Remus, and Peter were? Or a way for me to find out?"

Mr. Malfoy hummed thoughtfully as he scanned the letter. "Severus might be a better person to ask; I graduated from Hogwarts not long after your father started, but I'm fairly certain that Sirius refers to a man named Sirius Black. He made quite a stir in traditional pureblood circles by sorting Gryffindor. The Blacks, like the Malfoys, are always Slytherin."

"Do you know where I can find him?" Harry asked, excitedly.

"Take a seat Harry," Mr. Malfoy said, gently. He nodded when Harry did as he was told. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, on that front. Sirius Black was sentenced to life in Azkaban shortly after the war."

Harry gasped. His father had been friends with a criminal? He had wanted Harry to spend time with a criminal, even if he wasn't alive to keep Harry safe? "What did he do?"

"I don't know the details. His trial was happening at about the same time as my own, and I was rather preoccupied with my own case. I believe he was caught bright-wanded, killing a group of muggles. We can look up some old Daily Prophet issues, if you'd like, or we can request the trial transcripts."

Harry shook his head, feeling numb. He didn't want to know the gory details. "Was he, was he a Death Eater?"

Mr. Malfoy cast him a sympathetic look. "I don't believe so. I don't remember ever seeing him at the meetings. We were always masked for the biggest gatherings, though, so I can't be sure. If he was as close with your parents as your letter makes it sound, he might have been kept secret on purpose, as a spy."

Harry frowned, thinking. He had been hoping to meet his father's friends, to learn a little bit more about the man. Professor Snape had been reluctant to say too much, to avoid unnecessarily tainting Harry against him. If Harry had a source of positive stories, Professor Snape would be more likely to tell Harry the negative ones. Harry wanted to hear them all. "What about Remus or Peter? Do you have any idea who they might be?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Mr. Malfoy admitted. "On the bright side, I don't remember a Remus or a Peter at the Death Eater meetings either, so there's a chance they're both alive and free."

Harry nodded, but that thought had him troubled in a different way. "If they are free, why didn't they ever try to find me? Why didn't they ever check to make sure I was okay?"

"I'm not sure, Harry, but I can think of some possibilities. I've never tried to find your aunt and uncle's house on my own, nor have I ever tried to send you letters, without your express permission to do so. It is possible that Dumbledore put protective wards around the place that kept your father's friends away. Or, they might have moved away, after the war. It was a traumatic experience for most of us, and some people lost most of their family and friends. They might have needed a fresh start. If you can get their full names from Professor Snape, I will help you track them down."

"Thanks, Sir," Harry said, taking a deep breath before standing. "I think I'd like for you to teach me Occlumency, when you've got the chance, if that's still okay?"

"I would be delighted to, Harry. We can start later this evening, if you'd like. I've got some paperwork I need to get done this afternoon, and I'm sure Draco is going crazy with boredom, waiting for you to come practice dueling spells with him."

"Can you teach me a quick spell to use on Draco, before I go?" Harry asked, cheekily.

Mr. Malfoy chuckled. "Ever the Slytherin. I'll teach you both a few spells after I finish this paperwork. Deal?"

Harry tried to pout, but knew it wasn't very convincing. His face cracked into a smile. "Deal."