What's this? An actual chapter that wasn't pre-written? Must be hallucinating.
August 20th, 1988
"What's that?" Hermione dropped down on the couch by Harry's side, frizzy hair now pulled back in a bun with the scrunchie she'd gone to ask Mr Wright for after forgetting hers. It was probably Marie's since Mr Wright's hair wasn't that long yet. It was getting pretty long though, and Harry's too, he wondered if he'd have to get a haircut.
"Hm?" He looked away from the screen when his arm was poked and saw Hermione looking at him as if waiting for something.
"What's the show?" She pointed at the television, bumping him with her knee as she crossed her legs.
"Puddle Lane!" Harry replied with a smile, but it fell a bit at her frown and he held out the remote control, "um, we can watch something else, if you want?"
"That's a show for babies," she pointed out and took the control from his hand, "don't you have documentaries? Ooh, or mystery movies! Mom said I can watch murder mysteries if I promise to close my eyes if there's blood."
"Why'd you wanna see something with murder on the name?" Harry couldn't help but ask, "and I'm not a baby, my- I just couldn't watch anything with magic before."
"Why don't you?" Hermione replies as if it had been a dumb question, but at least she's nice enough not to tell him that to his face. "Plus magic isn't real, murder is!"
"It could be!" He crosses his arms, sinking into the couch and feeling upset but not sure why.
Did he want to tell Hermione about magic and was upset that he couldn't, or was he upset because she said it didn't exist and if he told her she'd think he was freaky? Emotions were confusing.
"Science says it doesn't," she changed the channel a couple of times but didn't stay long in any of them.
"Yeah, but people tell what science says, maybe people just don't know how to, um, how to science magic?" He shrugs.
"...I guess," Hermione said after a bit and turned off the television, "there's nothing good. When you come to my house we can watch Young Sherlock Holmes, mom bought me all the tapes. Maybe if you ask your dad, we can have a pyjama party and watch them all!"
"He's not my dad," Harry corrects, wide-eyed.
"But he said you're his ward, that's just law speak for being his son," she pointed out, dropping the remote on the centre table, "he takes care of you and buys you stuff, doesn't he?"
"Is that what dads do?" he can't help but ask, curiosity winning over the fear of Mr Wright listening in and not liking being called his dad, "my, um- my parents died, so I don't know…"
He saw Uncle Vernon be a dad to Dudley, but it wasn't the same as having one.
"Oh," Hermione whispered, looking at him like she was thinking hard before turning more on the couch to face him, "dads… ask about your day, they make sure you have all the stuff you need and that you're eating right, they hug you when you're sad, and it's like nothing can hurt you, and if you do get hurt they always help, even if it's your fault. And they love you no matter what."
"What- what about moms?" Harry leans in slightly at the warmth the description brings.
"Moms make the yummiest foods," she starts, smiling a bit, "they sing you to sleep, or read you stories, and they help you dress so you look good! They ask about your feelings if you're happy or sad, and they make sure you're studying and they know all the things so they can help you. Moms always smell really nice, and their hugs are warm, and they also say they love you, all the time."
"Sounds nice," Harry says, bringing up the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his eyes.
Hermione just stares at him, looking a little lost, maybe just as lost as he felt.
"Wanna play tag?" She asks out of nowhere, standing up from the couch so quick he bounced a bit in place.
"Yeah," he nods with a small smile.
"You're it!" she taps his arm and runs, and he can only hurry to chase after her.
August 27th, 1988
"If they say anything that upsets you, I want you to tell me, alright?" Michael instructs as they park in front of 35 Maiden Lane in Covent Garden, only receiving a nervous nod from Harry.
They get out and he hands the key to the valet before walking into the restaurant. He had made a reservation for one of Rules' private rooms for their lunch with the Malfoys. It would have felt a bit ostentatious if it hadn't been one of his mother's favourite restaurants when she was alive and Mr Mayhew, the owner of the restaurant, wasn't a family friend and someone he'd personally worked with on a few occasions. He figured if Harry had to sit through this - hopefully not uncomfortable - meeting, he may as well be introduced to one of the family's regular eating spots.
They find their way to the side entrance without issue and are led up the stairs by a hostess, who unlocks the door to the John Betjeman Room and goes back to wait for their additional guests. The room feels almost as much of a step into the past as walking down Diagon Alley, with its dark wooden walls and intricately printed carpet in mahogany red and cream to the six armless, ruby-red lined rococo chairs placed around the set table, three on each side. He pulled a chair for Harry on the side of the table facing the oval mirror on the opposite wall, sitting by his side a moment later. The boy looked even more nervous and the side glances he was sending at the silverware gave him a clue as to why.
"Don't worry about that, it's pretty easy to learn," he leans over to point out each piece of cutlery "we use them from the outside ones to the inside, that spoon is for soup, the first fork and knife for fish, the next one for the main course and the inside ones for dessert. If you don't know which one to use, just watch me, but you don't have to be embarrassed if you get it wrong," he assured.
"Alright," Harry nodded, seemingly to himself, as he watched the boy sit up straighter and offer him a slight smile that just about melted his heart.
Their guests stepped into the room a couple of minutes later, and he could easily see Narcissa's approving look and Mr Malfoy's reluctant resignment while taking in his chosen venue. Trailing behind them, a child-sized copy of the man but with short gelled-back hair was looking around in interest.
"Narcissa," he stood to greet them, bringing her offered hand up to his lips as he learned was custom, "Mr Malfoy," he was pleasantly surprised to find a hand offered for him to shake, and only put a fraction of warning strength into the handshake to keep the man on his toes, "And you must be the one that wrote to Harry," he offers the little boy a hand.
"Yessir," the child did his best to mimic his father, shaking his hand with probably as much strength as he could manage without looking like it. Adorable. "I'm Draco Malfoy!" the boy's attention was clearly on something over his shoulder and Michael stepped to the side slightly once his hand was released.
"Hi," Harry's shy tone came from the boy nearly hiding behind his legs, "I'm Harry," he belatedly offered a small bow, probably not wanting to shake hands with anyone and remembering Michael's words about greeting customs.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter," Narcissa offered with a smile and a small curtsy while Malfoy Snr returned the bow in silence.
"You're really Harry Potter?" Malfoy Jr blurted out, to an amused look from his mother and an exasperated one from his father.
"Um, 's just Harry," Michael felt the boy's hand brush the back of his knee as if wanting to grab into the fabric and figured maybe this was enough introductions for now.
"I'm just Draco then!" the other eight-year-old offered with a smile, and he couldn't help but relax slightly at the simplicity of children and clear lack of need for interference so far.
"Well then, let's take our seats," it was all the prompt needed for them to move to the table, with the Malfoy family seated on the opposite side of the rectangular table. The lack of chairs at the ends had been a deliberate move, one which he noticed the blond wizard take note of with an expression he couldn't quite read.
He quickly engaged the Malfoy couple in conversation, way more equipped to debate wizarding matters than in their first meeting, and they fell into a discussion over the distribution of power in the Ministry, which he had looked into recently. There was little to no political separation between the executive, legislative and judicial branches of power, with a governing system comprised in part of representative democracy and hereditary politicians, not quite a monarchy if only due to still being beholden to her majesty the Queen. A Minister for Magic - and that had been an interesting distinction to look into - was elected by votes from any ministry-registered witch or wizard of age and had to receive majority approval from the Wizengamot to be able to take up the position. The Wizengamot, which he'd discovered had originated from the Witan - or Witenagemot - from the seventh century, functioned as a combination of court and parliament and was composed of fifty seats and a Chief Warlock - elected by themselves - that presides over it all. The issue he had with it was that of all fifty seats, most were inherited by those born into Ancient and/or Noble Houses, with only ten attainable by witches or wizards not born into one of their own. Of course, Ministerial Heads of Department and other senior figures also sat in the Council ex officio but held little power beyond a consultant position.
Michael refrained from asking whether or not the Potter family held any such inheritable seats, not willing to impart any sort of political power over them to the couple, but did drag the senior Malfoy, who was more involved in day-to-day ministry occurrences, into what was essentially an interrogation over the workings of the Council of Magical Law and how his job would look like in the Wizarding World given his full practising certificate as a barrister even though he works as a solicitor the majority of the time. The couple seemed surprised at his inquiry into job opportunities, which seemed strange, shouldn't they be used to parents of half-bloods or muggle-borns wanting to become a bigger part of their children's world? Not that Harry was his, but he would still like to be aware of the society they were attempting to integrate into.
One of the biggest surprises he faced during the talk was the realization that the term Magic Circle, a popular informal term used to describe the five most prestigious multinational law firms with London headquarters, was somewhat literal. Each of the firms apparently hosted its own magic-related department which took on any clients in need of legal representation in front of the Council. The ability to represent another witch or wizard in court was acquired entirely through a sort of mentorship that granted one a certificate of Mastery of British Wizarding Law at the end of its duration and anyone could partake in it provided they convinced a certificate-bearing Master to take them under their wing and were a citizen of the British magical community in the eyes of the Ministry. This form of apprenticeship seemed in fact like the closest thing to superior education available in the wizarding world, which was slightly worrying and prompted Michael into adding a look into Hogwarts subjects to his continuously expanding to-do list.
The lunch went without a hitch and Michael had no regrets in leaving the menu selection to the chef, merely pointing out Harry's nutritional needs and letting the professional do the rest. The kids seemed to be enjoying themselves, even if one or both sometimes paused and stared for a moment before continuing their chatter parallel to their adult conversations. Michael didn't worry much since his ward seemed less nervous by the minute, and even a couple of blunders - thankfully going unmentioned - with cutlery didn't seem to bother him as much as expected. All in all, he considered it a success.
Wow, this was a bit of a pain to write until I got into the world-building/exposition part that I genuinely enjoy, but I'll get back into it eventually. I blame the My Hero Academia rabbit hole I recently fell into, which makes it hard to tune properly into other fandoms.
Btw, Rules restaurant? actual thing and the private room is v pretty. Magic Circle? is also a thing but I put the term a few years earlier.
Anyway! Feel free to yell at me for taking so long to update, I deserve it lol.
See ya next chapter! Whenever that ends up being.