1st of August, Malfoy Manor

"Harry Potter! What are you doing up so early?! And what are you doing here?" asked Dobby as he saw Harry descend the stairs at the crack of dawn and enter the kitchens.

"I'm used to it, doing chores for my aunt and her family you know," he answered, stopped momentarily by a yawn. "Do you need any help with breakfast? I'm pretty good at cooking."

Another older looking house-elf shook his head vigorously, "Certainly not! Wizards do not cook! Master and Lady Malfoy ate a few minutes ago before they left, and we elves made plenty for them to eat!"

With that, a spread of toast, bacon and eggs, jams, cheeses, and a selection of fruits vanished from the kitchen and reappeared on the dining room table. Harry turned his head and frowned at the sight, "If the Malfoys aren't around… can't I eat with you here in the kitchen?"

"Harry Potter wants to eat with the house elves…" mused Dobby with a glint of worship in his eyes. The other elf shoved Dobby aside and shouted, "A good elf is the elf unseen!"

Harry started to move to defend Dobby but stopped when the elf raised his hand, "Quibble is right Mr. Potter sir… it wouldn't be proper for a wizard to eat with elves."

"If that's what you want, I'm sor…" Harry started, but then stopped, realizing it was more trouble than it was worth, especially if the other elves blamed Dobby for his conduct. With nothing left to add, he walked over to the dining room table and grabbed a piece of toast.

"What are you doing up so bloody early?" demanded Draco as he entered the dining room.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and spread some butter, "Force of habit, did I wake you?"

Draco nodded vigorously looking quiet put out, "I asked mother to charm my clock to wake me when you woke up, but I didn't think it would be this early!"

"Sorry, I didn't know," said Harry, taking a bite out of his buttered toast.

"Eh, wasn't really your fault, I guess." Said Draco sitting down at the table but when he took stock of the food his mood only worsened. "Why are you eating this boring stuff anyway? Did you eat with my parents or something?" Dobby! Get me some waffles and orange juice!"

A tray of waffles and assorted creams immediately appeared before Draco, "Took you long enough, blasted elf, only ever does what we tell it to. A good elf knows those things in advance!"

"With manners like that…" started Harry only to realize a piece of waffle had materialized in his mouth. Coughing it out onto his plate (which now had a dozen), he cast a look at the kitchen door where he could have sworn he had seen Dobby holding a finger to his lips.

"Are you alright?" asked Draco, though he looked more disgusted then concerned.

Harry nodded still coughing, "sorry, I guess I just didn't chew it properly."

"Anyway, you are dead right. An elf should have better manners. Keeping a wizard waiting is plain rude, just because we haven't said what we want doesn't mean we don't want it!" shouted Malfoy, seemingly into the empty air, only to be greeted by a mass of chocolate desserts.

Harry sighed feeling the start of a strong Dudley inspired headache, but Dobby had a point, it wouldn't do to pick a fight with the Malfoys kid. If Dobby could take it, so could Harry.

"Where are my parents anyway?" asked Draco between bites, seemingly not genuinely concerned with decorum while they were out of eyeshot of the adults.

"Dobby said they left a few minutes ago," said Harry, pushing back the plate of waffles in favour of the bacon and eggs preferring to have a proper meal in him before he got to them.

Draco nodded, "Oh right, father did say they had some business to deal with in the ministry. You didn't hear it from me, but I think they are going to talk about your living arrangements."

"Talk about my what?" asked Harry, surprised at the information. While Hagrid had made it clear to the Dursleys keeping magic from him had been unacceptable, he still sent him back.

Draco smirked, "Your muggles Potter, did you think we'd just hear something like that and not do something about it? Boy Who Lived kept from magic by muggles? It will be the biggest scandal of the century when word gets out," he drawled on, sipping his juice.

Harry felt his heart sink, the last thing he wanted was everyone to know about his home life, and yet he also felt a flicker of hope. "Does that mean the ministry might move me out?"

"Of course! Well, maybe not immediately, there's a lot of paperwork that needs doing, but there's no way you will be left with them after what you told us." Said Draco with confidence, only to have a frown of worry form on his face. "I really shouldn't have told you all that though, father will be livid if he found out, so just don't tell them I said anything!"

Harry started nodding but stopped to think it over and felt a smirk form on his face, "so long as you show me how to fly you've got a deal."

"Ha! There's hope for you in Slytherin yet Potter! Though I was going to do that anyway, so as blackmails go, it was rather pointless. Tell you what though, I'll give you one of the better brooms. I've got a Comet 260, I was planning on loaning you my old 220, but I don't think Theo will mind if you use his Cleansweep. It's his own fault for leaving it here."

Harry thought over the offer but shook his head, "I rather not use somebody else's stuff without asking them, the 220 will do I guess."

"Suit yourself, we have the biggest private Quidditch pitch out of all the old families so a lot of them keep their best brooms here. Wish we had enough kids for two full teams though…" said Draco with a longing expression. "Anyway, no sense sitting around here, come on!"

Harry quickly followed Draco out of the house through the back entrance and into a shed holding all manner of brooms. None of them looked anything like the ones Harry generally associated with cleaning or even the flying brooms traditionally associated with images of witches in muggle culture. Instead, they had a finery to them; well-varnished handles with an almost aerodynamic appearance and heads of brilliant puffy bristles gushing behind them.

"Is there really a difference between all these brooms?" asked Harry, noting the physical ones. While some brooms seemed to be the same, there were at least a dozen distinct patterns.

Draco looked at him like he was mad, "Of course there is! With Quidditch being as popular as it is, you've got everyone trying to get their hands on the best newest broom first to get an advantage early in the season." Draco stopped to pick up one of the smarter looking brooms in his collection, "My Comet 260 was one of the best on the market five years running, but the new Nimbus 2000 is a lot better. Ugh… I wish father would just buy me one already."

"Why doesn't he?" asked Harry, surprised the clearly spoiled Draco hadn't gotten his way.

The boy pouted, "wants to lord it over me so that I get better grades I expect, though I guess it doesn't make much difference seeing as we first years can't take a broom with us anyway." Draco stopped to pick up a 2nd broom that looked fairly similar to the first, if older, and somewhat less refined. "This is my old Comet 220, still a good broom, but not as fast."

"Are there a lot of broom brands then?" asked Harry, accepting the broom.

Draco gestured to the collection, "dozens in Britian alone, though there are only three to choose from for Quidditch: Cleansweep, Comet, and Nimbus. Nimbus has been the top one for several years now, but the other broom-makers had their own advantages too, until Nimbus released the 2000..."

Harry couldn't help but drown out the rest of Draco's explanation. It sounded far too much like how his uncle kept on talking about car brands. "So… what do you want us to do?"

"I thought we'd just fly around first, come on," said Draco, taking Harry out to the pitch. In it, Harry could see an impressive array of hoops on both sides of the lawn as well as flags seemingly pointing distances from corner to corner and the direction of the wind. All in all, the pitch seemed to be about three-hundred feet across though the grounds were even bigger.

Rather than start flying, Draco surprised Harry by placing his broom on the ground. "Before we start there's a test you've got to do. Brooms are magical things much like our wands are. You've got to prove your worth to a broom before it will let you fly it… like this, UP!"

The broom shot up into Draco's hands, with the boy sending a smirk Harry's way as it did so. Harry gulped, fearing he wouldn't be nearly as successful. He put his broom down on the ground as he was shown and stopped to breath and calm his nerves. Harry then brought down his hand until it hovered two feet above, and steeled his voice with confidence he didn't feel.

"UP!"

The broom shot up even faster then Draco's had, much to the other child's consternation. "Summoning it is easy! We'll see just how good you are when we start flying. Now, you've got to hold it firmly like so," said Draco grappling the shaft with one hand coming from above and the other below. Harry tried to copy his grip but found himself gradually relaxing his hold to what felt to him like a more natural posture when Draco turned his gaze.

"To get in the air, you've got to give the ground a good kick and direct the broom upwards. Its as much about physically directing it as it is about your will, so don't give it reason to doubt what you want it to do." Sure enough, Draco did so and quickly sored into the air.

Harry followed suit, giving himself a good run to build up his confidence before kicking off the ground. The manor quickly grew smaller and smaller as Harry surged to join Draco by one of the hoops, but rather than feel any fear at the height, Harry only felt exhilarated by the experience. Magic hadn't let him down yet even if he still couldn't quite believe it.

"Won't people… er, muggles see us in the air?" asked Harry as he joined Draco.

Draco grinned, "Malfoy Manor is fairly isolated. We own most of the land around us and have powerful muggles repelling wards to keep out the scum. It's one of the few places you can fly without worrying about discovery, though the brooms are attuned to the boundaries: they'll shake if you get too close. Sometimes we narrow them down to the pitch for a game."

"I'll race you to the next hoop!" declared Harry, keen to put the broom in its paces.

Draco grinned, "you're so on Potter, loser gets to play keeper first!"

With that the two boys kicked off. It quickly became apparent that Harry wouldn't be able to win in a simple contest of speed since Draco's broom was the faster of the pair. Harry silently cursed himself for not realizing this would be the case sooner but opted instead to try and make up the balance by climbing and diving intermittently. When Draco flew past the middle hoop first, Harry was only a few seconds behind him, but a loss was a loss.

"Not bad for a beginner Potter, perhaps we'll make a Quidditch player out of you yet. Dobby! Get a quaffle up here!" shouted Draco until a large brown ball appeared in his hands.

"This is the main ball in any game of Quidditch. Three players on each team called chasers use it to score goals, with each goal worth 10 points. My friends and I usually play only with the quaffle because there aren't enough of us for two full teams, so we might as well start with this one. We'll rotate between a chaser trying to score and a keeper trying to defend. Whenever the keeper manages to catch a ball, the chaser will switch positions with him."

Recalling their earlier wager, Harry took point in front of the middle hoop, only for Draco to come charging straight at the one to his right. Harry moved quickly, but not fast enough to stop it. "Don't get too fixated on any one of the hoops Potter, a keeper has to guard them all."

"Sorry… I was thinking too much of football where there's only one net to worry about." said Harry, taking care to give the row of hoops a longer look before he found the best point between them to guard all three. The 2nd ball thrown by Draco still managed to fly into the left hoop as the blond boy exploited Harry's blind spot and delivered the strike from below. Harry still reacted quickly and dived to intercept, briefly feeling his fingers touch the ball.

"Close, but not close enough. Keep your mind off that muggle nonsense, they can't think beyond the ground at their feet. The magical world is multi-dimensional and so is this game."

Harry nodded, realizing that Draco was right. It wasn't only a matter of the three hoops to his rear, left, and right. It was also a 3-dimensional field of play unlike a grounded muggle sport. Taking care to follow Draco's movements this time around, Harry saw him diving up but looking below. Recognizing the former as a feint, Harry dived just in time to block the ball.

"Good catch Harry! I guess its my turn to play keeper then," said Draco as the two boys exchanged positions. While still confident, Harry noticed Draco sending a rather dirty look at the hoops as he settled into his new position. Perhaps he wasn't as good playing keeper?

Deciding to make the most of his hunch, Harry flew straight at Draco only to break off and circle around at the last second as the boy rushed to defend the central hoop. Harry threw the ball into the left hoop as he passed it, revelling in the sound of the bell attached to the score board keeping track. "You caught me off guard with that one, you won't get me next time!"

Taking up Draco on his challenge, Harry came in again, keeping his course steady with a slight inclination to the left until he noticed Draco take the bait and threw the ball to the right. Another bell marked their score as tied 20 points to 20. The ball quickly reappeared to Harry's left as Draco returned to position with a worried frown on his face.

"I think I am getting pretty good at this," announced Harry with a cocky grin.

Draco scowled, "Lucky start! In a few moments you'll be stuck playing keeper until dinner!"

Harry laughed; it was just like riling up Dudley into doing something just to prove he could. Taking advantage of Draco's distraction, Harry came at him once again dead centre, shifting the balance of his broom whenever the other boy inclined himself in the opposite direction. When Harry seemed to commit to the right, so did Draco, leaving the middle hoop completely unguarded for the quaffle to fly in as Harry threw it over his shoulder.

"Looks like if someone's going to be keeper all day, it isn't going to be me," said Harry allowing himself to gloat a little. It wasn't often that he got to boast for a sports achievement.

Draco glared at him but then smirked "how about we make things more interesting Potter? Qudditich has more than one ball after all, so I will have Dobby charm us a bludger!"

At that suggestion, Dobby appeared by Draco's side hovering in the air, "Young master must not order Dobby to do so! The Mistress told him not to do it ever again!"

"Exactly, mother told me not to order you to do it, she didn't order you not to obey my order if I gave it, so stop looking for loopholes and charm the bloody ball!" shouted Draco.

Harry narrowed his eyes, displeased at Draco's treatment of the house self, but before he was about to say as much, he decided to pursue a more subtle angle. "Draco, if your mother doesn't want you to do it, I don't want you to get in trouble over it."

"What, are you too scared to face a real bludger Potter?" challenged Draco.

Harry snorted, "you wish," wondering how bad the 2nd ball could be.

"If you're so confident about it, let's bring all three balls into the game." Draco took a small golden ball out of his pocket, and surprisingly enough, it promptly unfurled a pair of wings.

"This is the Golden Snitch, the most important ball in a game of Quidditch. Each team has a seeker charged with catching it, and when they do, the game ends and that seeker's team generally wins the match. That's why bludgers are usually aimed at the seekers. For our game, the same rules apply, first one to catch the Snitch wins." With that, he let the ball fly.

Harry immediately gave chase but was forced to doge left as the other ball came screeching past his head. Draco used the opportunity to gain a head start, and when the bludger came for him, he took out an iron bat and sent it back at Harry. "Sorry Potter, I forgot to ask Dobby for two bats," drawled Draco, and then resumed his chase after the golden ball.

Harry cursed as the bludger brushed the side of his broom, sending him spinning momentarily until he could regain control. "Dobby… could I get a bat as well?" he asked, knowing the elf was still listening. Sure enough, a 2nd bat materialized in his hand just in time to send the bludger reeling up into the air before it could finish off Harry for good.

With the main threat temporarily averted, Harry gave chase to Malfoy but knew his slower broom wouldn't be able to keep up. Instead, Harry peeled his eyes and saw a glint of gold steadily spiralling lower and lower to the ground. Diving after it before Draco could figure out its trajectory, Harry managed to regain all the lost ground and close on the tiny ball just as Draco started his own run at it. The two boys were now neck to neck with the ball in sight, now steadily gaining altitude in a last ditched attempt to throw off its pursuers.

"You're pretty good Potter, but I've got the faster broom, no way you're going to win."

The dreaded squealing noise of the bludger made its presence known above them leaving no doubt it was coming down right at them from above. "Break off Harry, we can't intercept it from this angle if we're focused on catching the snitch," shouted Draco, looking above.

"And let you catch it? No way, you first Malfoy," retorted Harry.

When it became evident neither was willing to concede the win, Draco's daring eventually came short as he broke off at the last moment away from the bludger. Harry continued, stretching out his hand to catch the ball, grasping it just as the bludger drove into his broom.

It took a few seconds for Harry to realize he no longer had the broom beneath him as he fell through the air, but before he could hit the ground, something caught him and suspended him a mere foot away from the gravel. When Harry opened his eyes, he was greeted by the sighed of Dobby holding up his hands to catch him and the clearly livid face of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Darco! I told you not to use a bludger unless one of us was here to supervise! If it wasn't for the emergency orders I gave Dobby in the event you defied me, Harry could have fallen to his death!" shouted Narcissa, much to the discomfort of her son.

Harry felt his body slowly descend the final foot to the ground and accepted Dobby's hand with a grateful nod, "Mrs. Malfoy… don't blame Draco, he asked me, and I agreed to play with the bludger," said Harry, feeling it was unfair for the blond boy to take all the blame.

"While I appreciate your honesty Mr. Potter, you still don't fully understand the rules and customs of our world, whereas Draco does, and should have known better."

Harry shook his head and held up the caught snitch much to Draco's shock, "Really, it was amazing to get a chance to play like this. I've never had as much fun doing anything else."

"You actually caught it?! You're barmy, but by Merlin can you play!" whispered Draco, struggling between looking awed, jealous, or outraged until he caught his mother's glare.

Narcissa seemed to think it over before she sighed and smiled, "alright, seeing as neither one of you was hurt, I'll let this incident slide. You truly are your father's son Harry."

"I wish I'd known him," muttered Harry.

Narcissa frowned, "I can't bring back the dead Harry, but I may be able to help you know who your father was. If you would follow me to the library, there are a few books I'd like to loan you. Draco, you can tidy things around here. I want everything back in the shed."

"Make Dobby do it," muttered Draco.

"I am afraid he won't be able to help you, while Dobby did as we instructed him, he should have known better then to accept your order without my conformation. Dobby, I expect a modest but appropriate punishment," said Lady Malfoy as the house elf reappeared.

"Yes Mistress," whispered the house-elf with a degree of gratefulness that made Harry sick. Was that the reason Dobby had tried hitting himself with his schoolbooks?

"But… Dobby saved me, does he really deserved to be punished if he only did as he was told?" asked Harry, unable to restrain himself despite the warning looks of the elf.

The Malfoys seemed surprised at his opposition, but it was Dobby who spoke first. "Mr. Potter can be forgiven for his impropriety owing to his ignorance of proper wizarding ways. Dobby put Harry Potter at risk and deserves to be punished. Dobby is very thankful for mistress Malfoy's fair treatment and will attend to his punishment at once."

The elf disappeared before Harry could press his case. "Dobby is right, its easy to forget how little you know Harry, but among magical folk, challenging a family's treatment of its elves is a grave insult to its honour. I will not treat this incident as such, however, for It is merely another matter I shall have to provide you with appropriate reading material." Said Narcissa.

Realizing nothing could be gained by arguing further, Harry sighed and followed Lady Malfoy back into the manor passing Draco as he did so. The latter boy stopped him briefly and put his hand on his shoulder "thanks for speaking up for me… er, you didn't have to, I was out of line showing off because I couldn't get over how good you are at this game."

Surprised at this uncharacteristic display at humility for a spoiled kid, Harry smiled and offered his hand to Draco. "Hey, I was also being a bit too cocky for my own good. I've never been this naturally good at anything before, so it was as much of a shock for me as it was to you. And I have you to thank for discovering this about me… I won't forget that."

Draco smiled and accepted Harry's hand, "You're a natural seeker Harry, right build, and great eye for detail even with your glasses. Merlin, you were pretty good playing chaser as well," he said, pouting somewhat jealously at the thought.

"I think you're good playing chaser and seeker too, I don't think I could have stopped that many of your strikes if we'd switched and you'd have gotten the snitch without a bludger."

Draco laughed, seemingly reassured "Ha! Beaten at my own game! Gryffindor won't stand a chance when we join the house team. I can't wait to introduce you to the others and play."

Narcissa's forgiving mood didn't survive their return indoors. The moment the door (quite magically) closed behind them; she'd insisted Harry spend the better part of an hour in a bubbly hot bath to wash off all the dirt he had apparently incurred in the air. He quickly realized that arguing the case wouldn't help him and surrendered to his fate with a shy smile, unaccustomed to being "mothered" in this way, but finding he rather liked it.

Reclining back into the tub, Harry let the warm water flow over him with a satisfied sigh, finding it hadn't cooled in the slightest since he had gone in. It was a sharp contrast to the few times he got to bathe in the Dursley household either in freezing or in lukewarm water. The former because they didn't want to spend the money warming the boiler for him, and the latter usually grudgingly granted when Dudley pulled a tantrum and refused to go in.

All in all, it made a shower a much more tolerable experience since it got the thing over with before Harry could catch a chill. Harry hoped he would quickly learn the warming charm in his charms book but doubted he would be able to apply it in his muggle environment if the rules about underage magic held true. It was no good, he thought with a frown; having been exposed to how a magical family lived, Harry found he dreaded going back to Privet Drive.

A loud pop signalled an elf's arrival with a thick green towel and a mug of warm chocolate. Much to Harry disappointment, he saw it wasn't Dobby, but the older more wrinkled elf from before. "Lady Malfoy requests that, if Mr. Potter is ready, he might join her guest for tea."

"Err yes, but what will I wear?" wondered Harry, before realizing how silly his question was.

The elf didn't spare him the disapproving huff, "Quibble will provide a fresh change of clothing along with a supply of similar articles of appropriate attire for future use."

The elf promptly disappeared leaving Harry behind to get out of the bath and dry himself. The task, which would have ordinarily taken a few minutes was completed in seconds as the towel seemed to suck out the moisture wherever it passed while remaining perfectly dry as it did so. Marvelling at the magic, Harry didn't notice the arrival of his change of clothes. Quibble hadn't announced his presence, opting instead to deliver them and depart.

Unlike the dress robes he had received for dinner, this change of clothing had a more casually mundane air to them while still looking sufficiently out-of-date to spite modern society. Harry didn't fully understand the why, but he suspected the Malfoys looked down on none magicals, or muggles as they called them. Perhaps all wizards did? Even Hagrid had been either annoyed or amused when he had been forced to interact with the muggle world.

Emerging from the bathroom wearing a red buttoned-shirt and a pair of black trousers, Harry briefly lost his bearings, unsure where to proceed in the maze of seemingly never-ending doors. Opening one he thought would lead to the corridor, he was surprised to see a room illuminated by candlelight consisting of a desk, a bookshelf, and a fireplace. Curious, Harry entered the room to have a look at the books who's titles he could barely make out.

They seemed old full of foreboding titles such as 'The Nightshade Guide to Necromancy', 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts', and 'Magick Moste Evile.' Feeling like he had managed to find his way to a room he shouldn't be in, Harry turned to leave, when he suddenly heard a whisper at the edge of hearing calling him by name and a strong inclination to investigate.

Turning around, he could see no point of origin other than a title-less black book that seemed to be very out of place. Against his better judgement, Harry pulled the book out. It had a surprisingly muggle look to it, though he struggled to make out any words as he turned the pages. When he got it closer to the candle, he was surprised to see it had no words inside.

"Can I help you young man?" asked the gruff voice of a man at the entrance startling Harry.

"Er… yes, Mrs. Malfoy wanted me to get to her drawing room… I got lost."

The candlelight seemed to grow brighter as the man entered the study until it illuminated the whole room. The robed man towered above him; his face hidden behind an odd black mask shaped like a beak though long white stands of hair hanged around it with a surviving tinge of gold. A slight twitch of his finger levitated the book to his side, a motion Harry was too scared to resist. The man looked down at the book and back at Harry.

"You picked this title-less, wordless, worthless muggle excuse for a book out of a dozen about the most advanced most ancient forms of magic… why is that I wonder?" said the man out loud, before descending into a fit of coughs prompting the book to fall out of the air.

Harry felt enough concern to approach the man but stopped in his tracks when one cough produced sparks of flame which burst out of the mask's filters. A cloud of smoke dispersed around the mask as the coughing subsided until the fireplace seemed to light itself off its own accord and proceeded to somehow suck the smoke towards it and out through the chimney. The orange flames somehow turned into a sickly green and then extinguished themselves.

"Are you alright?" asked Harry breaking the silence.

"Do not worry, my condition is no longer contagious, not to wizards at any rate" said the man with a sharp whispering voice, before levitating the book back into the bookcase taking care not to touch it.

"But… what is it?" asked Harry unable to restrain himself.

The man laughed or at least produced a choking sound as close to one as he could, "So Lucius spoke the truth for once… how shall I put it in a way you would understand. I suppose muggles have their share of illnesses, the Black Death and what not, though that is not the best example considering its magical origin… bad business that. Suffice it to say, I am currently more dangerous to dragons than I am to people considering my insides are now closer to the former than to the latter. I do not have long for this world, maybe a year."

"I… am sorry to hear that," said Harry, not knowing what else to say.

"Don't concern your youthful head about it, even the third brother welcomed Death in the end. To think that in my youth I worked so diligently to find some means to escape it, and yet now in my old age, how I long to fly towards the sun. 'Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light.' * I think that was how it went, an old school friend once shared it with me, not a bad poem for muggles."

The awkward silence extended for even longer this time, with Harry gulping at the sight of a pair of reptilian sickly yellow eyes bearing down on him from the sockets of the mask. Harry felt his mind drift to his memories of life with the Dursleys ending with a flash of greenlight from his dreams.

"Err… can you tell me how I can get to the drawing room? I really should be going," said Harry, breaking eye contact having felt the start of a headache.

"Leave this room and turn right, you should find it eventually," said the man unhelpfully.

As Harry turned to leave, he felt a cane fall on his shoulder, gently if firmly holding him in place, "you did not answer my first question, Mr. Potter, why that book and not another?"

Harry turned his gaze to the man and struggled to find an answer only to see his thoughts drifting back the voice and the sudden inclination to take it. The cane was gone from his shoulder before Harry had a chance to speak, the man having turned back to his bookcase to retrieve 'Secrets of the Darkest Arts' before sitting at his desk to start reading.

"Curious, most curious," muttered the man as he flipped through the pages until he remembered he was not alone in the room. "You may go now; you have shown me everything I needed to know. I recommend that you learn to be more attentive to your thoughts Mr. Potter. You are too young to learn the magic behind the art, though I suppose he started young. Be that as it may, you will find that stray thoughts are not quite as private as you are accustomed to."

Harry practically rushed out of the room and almost walked into the elderly house-elf as he turned the corner. If he startled the servant, Quibble didn't give any sign of it, for house elf didn't even blink, though if Harry had to give a name to his stare it would be unamused.

"If Mr. Potter is… fully composed, he will please follow Quibble to the drawing room."

Harry was only too happy to oblige, glad to have a reason to push the strange encounter out of mind. The elf quickly guided Harry through the manor until they stood in front of a glass door decorated with images of mythical beasts ranging from unicorns to a giant snake. When the elf waved at the doorknob, the images seemed to spring to life moving from frame to frame as the door slowly opened. Behind it, was an exquisitely furnished interior boasting an antiquated couch and a pair of armchairs, each equipped with a multitude of pillows.

"Mr Potter do please come and join us," said Lady Malfoy gesturing to the couch, seated on one of the armchairs facing an unknown guest. Harry did as he was told but didn't take his eyes off the middle-aged woman. She was a stern looking woman dressed in long dark robes that seemed more in line with a uniform of some sort then the brighter colours worn by Narcissa Malfoy. Her disapproving gaze seemed to soften at the sight of Harry, but only just.

Once Harry was seated, Lady Malfoy resumed. "Allow me to introduce Madam Amelia Bones, head of the department of magical law enforcement… or as you would understand it, our equivalent of the muggle town watchmen and constabularies. Madam Bones has agreed to review your present accommodations to determine if they are consistent with the requirements of magical law. She asked to talk to you in person before advancing the case."

With that said, Lady Malfoy got up from her seat and nodded to Quibble. A fresh pot of warm tea appeared on the table as the elf and its master vacated the room. Madam Bone's disapproving gaze didn't leave Lady Malfoy's back until it was out of sight beyond the glass door. She then turned her gaze back to Harry inspecting him from head to foot. Once she was satisfied, she picked up her cup, briefly touching it with her wand before she sipped from it.

"An exquisite if unimaginatively traditional blend, just as I would expect from the Malfoys, though a bit too thick with honey for my tastes. Take care to look behind your expectations when you deal with the Malfoys Mr. Potter, sweetness is always an excellent cover for the bitter and the sour." she said, invoking a frown from Harry who had experienced nothing but kindness and consideration from the Malfoys and didn't approve of her slight to them.

Madam Bones quickly noted his expression and sighed, putting down the mug. "I see they've already gotten to you, though if half of what Mrs Malfoy said about your life in the muggle world is true, that is to be expected. Forgive me, I didn't mean any insult, suffice it to say my family does not have a positive history with the Malfoys and I have my own reasons to be suspicious of their intentions, especially where those machinations relate to your wellbeing."

"The Malfoys helped me catch up with all this magical stuff I don't know," insisted Harry.

"I imagine they did. But didn't anyone else do so? As I understand it, while an arrangement was made for you to live with your muggle relatives, they were already aware of the existence of the magical world and were supposed to instruct you on how to access it."

Harry shook his head, "they never told me anything about magic. Magic was a bad word to say around them and they'd get mad when I mentioned it or did anything strange. They told me my parents died in a car crash, and I didn't know any different until Hagrid came."

"Hagrid? Rubus Hagrid, Keeper of the Grounds at Hogwarts Castle?" she asked, frowning at Harry's conformation. "Not the typical representative of Hogwarts sent to deal with muggle-born cases, at least, not in any official capacity the Ministry would be informed about."

Harry shrugged his shoulders not seeing how that mattered, "he mentioned that Dumbledore told him I might be difficult to get hold of," said Harry, struggling to remember the specifics of the encounter and thus barely noticing Madam Bone's deepening frown. "My aunt and uncle did everything they could to prevent me from reading my Hogwarts Letter. Hagrid had to go all the way to a small island my uncle booked to hide out on to deliver my letter."

"Can you describe any instances of magic around you and how your relatives responded?"

Harry recounted his experiences but decided not to reveal how he'd talked to the snake, Lady Malfoy's warning against the reactions of even some wizards to that ability still on his mind.

"Those are rather… excessive displays of accidental magic. Apparition in public muggle spaces? Even without the trace in effect, we should have known, yet I can't find any record of the incident," said Bones as she sorted through a thick leather folder full of thick parchment.

"I'm not lying!" exclaimed Harry, worried the encounter would turn the same as the short inconsequential visit of child welfare services. "I am not saying my aunt and uncle hurt me or anything, but they never gave anything to me beyond what they absolutely had to."

Madam Bones briefly touched Harry's hand with her own and looked him straight in the eye, "I never suggested you were lying Mr. Potter, in fact, I have more than enough evidence to believe everything you've said on the matter from my own preliminary investigation. Magical children living with muggle relatives aren't unheard of, and for the most part, magical law places family over magic so long as both can live together in harmony."

Harry snorted at the suggestion but allowed Madam Bones to continue, "I am afraid magical law enforcement pays far less attention to domestic matters then our muggle counterparts do, and our mandate mostly ends at the household's door. That said, there are serious concerns associated with actively trying to supress the magical development of a child which can lead to strong bouts of accidental magic and even worse in rare cases, both of which concern us."

"Does that mean… I won't have to go back?" asked Harry hopefully.

Madam Bones grimaced, "Normally, it would fall under my preview to make a decision, but your case leaves enough of a grey area to prevent me from doing so on my authority alone."

"Because I am this Boy Who Lived?" asked Harry bitterly.

Bones nodded, "In part yes, but mostly because my authority technically extends only to muggle-borns with no relations in the magical world who's claim might challenge mine."

"But… I thought there were no Potters left in Britian."

"I gather the Malfoys told you. How… thoughtful of them. Muttered Bones darkly. "Still, they are correct, there are no Potters left in Britian and those in America are far too removed to have any valid claim. That doesn't mean you don't have surviving relations, however. In fact, most British Wizarding families are related to one another. It is merely a question of figuring out who has the most valid claim. I am sure the Malfoys mentioned theirs by now."

Harry's hopes leaped, "Could I stay here?" he asked, moving forward to the edge of the chair.

Bones shook her head, "In the short term, I am afraid you will have to go back to your aunt and uncle. If it was my choice, I would invite you to stay in my house, but the law gives me no such authority. From what I've gathered, you aren't in any immediate danger there…"

Before Harry could protest, Bones quieted him down with a gesture and clarified. "I certainly won't take that on faith alone; measures will be taken to keep you under ministry supervision. Now that I know there are grounds to pursue a case, I will have to report to my superior. Depending on the Minister's decision, he might remove you to temporary accommodations until a hearing decides which family has the most valid claim to become your guardians."

"How long is this going to take? I only have a month until term starts… and I was really looking forward to learning more about the magical world before I go," said Harry.

"Quite a while normally, but in your case, I expect progress will be swift and I will see to it personally that it is. Now, I've informed Mrs Malfoy that while occasional visits with your guardian's permission are perfectly proper, in light of the circumstances, your continued stay here as a guest might raise additional questions and problems regarding your case. I will return you to your aunt and uncle and cast the necessary spells to monitor your well-being."

"Now?" asked Harry as Madam Bones stood up and offered her hand.

The woman sighed, "I am afraid so. The Malfoys have all but exceeded their rights already considering your guardians did not approve this visit, but I have agreed to overlook the matter in return for their cooperation. The longer you stay, the more questions will be raised regarding their involvement; some might see it as a manipulative attempt to make you choose them over another family…" she said with a frown suggesting she thought as much herself. "It is as much a risk to their own claims for custody over you if that's what you truly want."

"I… don't want to cause the Malfoys any trouble. Can I… at least say goodbye?" he asked struggling to conceal his despondency at the thought of returning to the Dursleys and failing.

"Of course, courtesy demands it" replied Madam Bones with a tense smile, one that gave Harry the distinct impression she Madam Bones had fully intended to spirit him away that very moment and didn't think the Malfoys deserved much in the way of courtesy at all.

Lady Malfoy and Draco met them by the front door as they exited the chamber. Draco's face locked into a frown while Lady Malfoy was all smiles and manners. Several books were held in Quibble's hands much to Amelia's annoyance who muttered something about confiscation.

"Here you go, the books I promised to help you accumulate into our world. They are from the Malfoy library in the manor and you can return them when you next visit us. I trust Madam Bones will have her own suggestions and ask that you treat them with the same respect." The two women seemed to stare into each other for a few moments until Bones relented.

"Indeed, I can think of a few more titles to produce a more diverse collection…" she granted, glaring at Lady Malfoy realizing perhaps that her earlier complaint had been overheard.

"Don't take too long to come back! After the stunts you pulled today, you just have to play a game with the rest of my friends," exclaimed Draco, clearly itching for a re-match.

Lady Malfoy rested her hand on his shoulder, "You must not speak of Harry's visit to your friends Draco, not yet. Madam Bones has graciously agreed to investigate the case without concerning herself with how we came across it. We have promised our discretion in return."

If Madam Bones's frown was anything to go by, that wasn't exactly how she would have liked to word the arrangement, but she soon schooled her expression. "Indeed, ultimately it is Mr. Potter's welfare which must be our overriding concern, and I will do all I can to expedite the process to make sure Harry is placed with guardians worthy of that responsibility."

Lady Malfoy surprised Harry with a quick hug and a whisper close to his ear, "we will do everything we can to be those guardians Harry, you will see." before letting him go.


General Notes: I figured that since it was ready I might as well upload the chapter now so that I can give the final few pages I need to write for my seminar paper my full attention over the weekend. Unfortunately, this is also the end of my backlog of chapters with the rest in a far less prepared state. I am therefore not entirely sure when the next chapter will be uploaded. I would like to say the 8th of September, but it may very well drag to the 15th before I get around to it due to other outstanding submissions for my degree. I am not entirely without more material prepared, but since re-ordering the plot line, some of the things I have written will have to wait a bit longer while things I have plotted out but haven't finished have moved up front.

This chapter marks a short break from Harry's POV. I can say that the pre-Hogwarts storyline I have in mind will be about 10 chapters long give or take and that while Harry will be the POV for the majority of them, two other characters will be getting their own chapters in between. I felt it would be necessary to bring those characters as POVS sooner rather than later to justify my own take on their motivations and what choices they might have made had things gone a bit differently. I won't say who they are just yet though it is probably fairly easy to guess, but I will say that once they are properly introduced this story will become somewhat more mutli-POV, though Harry will remain the principle one while the other two are more secondary.

I did try to mash together two different scenes and I think I more or less managed it. The mystery masked man addition is new but one I had in mind before either scene was written but just couldn't find a way to get it in here. I opted to be a bit subtle regarding his identity, but hopefully its pretty obvious who he is considering the details I provided. I do have a feeling I might be leaning towards an evil Dumbledore impression a bit too strongly in this chapter, but suffice it to say, this is more of a case of what the characters think than what may or may not be the reality. Dumbledore is the first person to admit he makes mistakes but I intend to leave the nature of those mistakes and his intentions to the reader and to Harry for the time being.

Note 1: There is a reason I left the role of the Snitch vague in Draco's description of it. I am not entirely sure I want to stick with canon here because it bugs me one player can win the game no matter how well or how badly the rest of the team plays. The new Quidditch Champions game seems to be making quite a few compromises for gameplay mechanics, and while I wouldn't go that far in a lore sense (I defiantly still think catching the Snitch should be the only way to end the game) I do think the 30 points the Snitch will grant in that game is a lot better than 150 (as the realistic time between a seeker starting their final run and how many goals the chasers can score) Quidditch will feature in this fic so it needs to make more sense.

It will either be 30 points and ending the game or the Snitch only ending the game with no point gain (other than a tie breaker in the event of equal point score thus becoming more of a strategic decision of when to catch it and to stop the other seeker from catching it.) In a sense, an absence of point gain makes the seeker a more dynamic role in the team because the seeker constantly has to know what the flow of the game is before committing to catching the snitch when at other times their role will be more focused on preventing it from being caught by the other seeker. Still, 30 points might be better as a seeker can't really pay much attention to anything else once they are in a close chase of the snitch. Its enough of a leg up.

Note 2: The poem is attributed to Oscar Wild though it isn't entirely clear if he wrote it.

Thanks for reading and apologizes in advance if there is a delay before the next chapter is uploaded. If there is one, it could not be helped.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products.