Author's note: Had wanted to finish this earlier, but my weekend sucked somewhat, so I only managed to finish this chapter just now.

Thanks to the following reviewers: littlesprout; SehunsBae37; richon; AlyssaOtaku 69

Warnings: Minor time skips

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

I hope you'll like it!

Part 5

"What happened?" Mother asked, raising an eyebrow. "I did not realise you and Mister Potter had become so close after you went to thank him."

"We aren't close," Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead. "He nearly walked into me when I was about to go home. We started talking until we both noticed other people starting to act weird."

"So the people were truly cursed?" she questioned, casting a glance at the newspaper.

"You didn't read the article?" he asked surprised in return.

"We both know the newspapers are prone to exaggerate when it concerns Mister Potter," she murmured.

He couldn't disagree with that. "Yes, they were cursed," he confirmed and after a moment of hesitation he added reluctantly, "They were put under the Voluntas Curse."

Only people who knew mother very well would notice the way the corners of her eyes tightened upon hearing that curse.

"I told Potter to run and followed him because I wasn't keen on finding out whether they would refrain from making other casualties," he continued.

"That appeared to be the smart choice given that you're here and not at the hospital," she remarked.

He debated keeping quiet about the attack but mother had a way of finding out everything he tried to keep from her. Better to get it over with now instead of being confronted with his omission or his lie later on.

"I actually did get hit by one of their curses," he admitted begrudgingly and before she could open her mouth to demand a house elf to heal him, he added, "but Potter managed to heal me before it could spread."

Her cool, light blue eyes narrowed a tad. "I wasn't aware Mister Potter had become a Healer already. Truly he is capable of many feats," she said idly before demanding, "With which curse did they attack you."

"The curse bounded off actually and I was unlucky enough to be in its new path," he said but her raising her eyebrow had him giving in quickly. "The Festering Flame Curse."

Her sharp intake of breath was barley audible. "If Mister Potter did heal you, that would require an immense sign of magical prowess on his part. That curse doesn't get healed with a simple flick of the wand, Draco."

"I'm aware, but see for yourself, mother." He shoved his sleeve back, showing his unmarked, healed skin. There wasn't even the faintest trace of a red sheen left behind; for all intents and purposes he looked like he had never been attacked at all. "There's nothing left. And I think we can both admit that he isn't that weak." The corners of his mouth twisted.

Gently she held his arm between her warm hands, turning it back and forth as she studied the skin. He allowed her to stare at his arm to her heart's content, knowing she needed to see the proof with her own eyes to assure herself he was really fine.

When she released his arm and took a step back again, she had a thoughtful look on her face. "It does appear that he's even more powerful than I had given him credit for," she murmured, her eyes distant for a couple of seconds before they cleared up again when she looked at Draco. "How did you end up in a hotel if you were being chased by these people?"

"After I was attacked, Potter used his Invisibility Cloak to hide us both from view. We decided it would be better to go to a hotel and stay there instead of remaining there and risking getting caught eventually," he explained and scowled down at the picture. "I didn't know there was an idiot photographer nearby, though."

"Mister Potter is a celebrity after all," she spoke lightly before turning solemn again. "Do you think the Aurors will give you trouble?"

"You mean, do I think they suspect I'm after the attack?" He pursed his lips when she inclined her head. "If they suspect me, they are doing a good job at covering it up. Potter spoke in my defence after the attack at the hospital; I think now it would be pretty obvious I couldn't have cursed such a large amount of people at once."

"Logic is not always their strongest suit," she murmured before taking a deep breath again. She clasped her hands together in front of her lap. "I suppose having Mister Potter's word that you aren't involved will at least make them think twice before foolishly accusing you."

"Like you said, mother, logic isn't always their strongest suit," Draco replied mirthlessly. "By the way," he remembered, "the old coot was there. At the hotel," he clarified. "He showed up with Shacklebolt and another Auror."

"What was the Headmaster doing so far away from the school?" she asked interestedly.

"He said he was at the Ministry when he overheard Potter's Patronus explaining what was happening," he answered and sneered. "I suppose he was worried his Golden Hero would be overwhelmed by a group of cursed people."

"He has always had his favourites," Mother conceded. "Go freshen up a bit. The house elves have nearly finished preparing dinner."

"I'll be down soon," he promised and cast one more glance at the newspaper before he walked upstairs.

The photographed version of Potter blinked up at him before ducking away, hiding from view, while his own photographed version seemed to scoff before disappearing from sight as well. He could only imagine the public outcry that would follow once everybody had had the time to read the article – if they even decided to read it in the first place instead of only feeling offended over the title.

Well, for once he supposed it was a good thing that he was basically housebound nowadays; he didn't think it would be a smart idea to show his face in public for the upcoming couple of weeks at least.

His aunt's living room was fairly neutral in its decoration.

As he and mother waited for Aunt Andromeda to finish brewing tea – "Mimsy is busy cleaning upstairs; it doesn't take that long to brew some tea." – Draco studied his surroundings furtively. A vase filled with white, purple and lavender coloured carnations stood on its own stool in front of the window, soaking up the sunlight. The walls were painted a muted blue; the door separating the living room from the hallway a shiny black. A comfortable couch and two armchairs were set up around a low table, upon which this morning's newspaper and a book about the history of charms was left behind. The wooden floor was hidden from view by a deep blue carpet, shiny silver threads stitching out a pattern of various flowers. A couple of bookcases were filled to the brim with both books and trinkets, some picture frames dotted here and there on random shelves.

Draco had no idea what he had expected his aunt's home to be. A lot more personal? Some traces left behind of her Muggleborn husband? He didn't know. He supposed he had assumed her house would be decorated completely different to the interior of Malfoy Manor but truthfully this room at least looked like it could be easily part of their own manor.

Nearing the end of July had seen mother deciding that it was time to reconnect with old family members and she had promptly written a letter to her sister Andromeda, asking to meet up. Her decision would seem out of the blue to anybody who didn't know her very well, especially seeing as mother hadn't spoken or visited Aunt Andromeda in years. With the trials over, mother had begun carefully socialising once more, wanting to find out where their family stood now. Aunt Andromeda had thus been the first one she had contacted.

Draco couldn't decide who would have been one of the riskiest to contact: one of the other Pureblood families who were currently lying low to prevent attracting the Ministry's wrong kind of attention or a family member they hadn't seen in years and who had actually been kicked out of the family for marrying the wrong sort. Surprisingly Aunt Andromeda had accepted the outstretched hand of her sister and had invited them over for tea.

"Here I am," Aunt Andromeda announced her return from the kitchen. With her wand she directed the tray with the steaming cups to the table before taking a seat in one of the armchairs. Her gaze – as piercing as that of Aunt Bellatrix but without the hint of insanity clinging to it – slid from mother to Draco and she smiled coolly. "I'm not going to play any of the games you might want to play, my dear sister, so I'm just going to be frank now: I never expected to hear from you again."

That certainly was being frank. Draco found he could appreciate that, however. Even though he had been part of the high Pureblood elite for years, at the moment he couldn't bring up the mindset needed to play around in that world. Wearing a mask, being careful about what he said, to whom he spoke – it had become tiring lately. Aunt Andromeda's frank honesty was very much appreciated to the empty smiles and blank gazes which greeted him whenever he encountered other Purebloods in public lately.

"In that case, I hope you appreciate the same kind of honesty," Mother said, picking up her cup when Aunt Andromeda gestured at it. "With most of the storm having passed, I am figuring out where my family stands nowadays. Reaching out a hand to you felt like the better option currently."

Aunt Andromeda lifted an eyebrow, which was so similar to the way mother did it that Draco actually blinked twice at the sight. The way his aunt leant back in the chair spoke of a casualness that mother had never possessed, however.

"I dare say the Malfoy name might not be doing splendid at this moment," she murmured. "Although Harry speaking up in both your defence might do your name some good after all."

"I'm thankful he did that," Mother said calmly, not reacting to the comment about their current standing. "He didn't have any reason to do so."

"Well, that's Harry, I suppose," Aunt Andromeda commented. "When he believes in something, he's hard to sway."

The muted sound of a Floo activating had all three of them stilling. When the visitor appeared in the doorway, Draco didn't know why he was even surprised anymore.

"Andromeda, do you still have some baby puree left because – shit, sorry, I had completely forgotten you had visitors today," Potter cut himself off with a groan, briefly rubbing his forehead before he nodded at Draco and his mother. "Mrs. Malfoy, Malfoy, sorry, I should have waited."

"It's fine, Harry," Aunt Andromeda said and her tone was noticeably warmer when she addressed him. "Yes, I've still got some jars left. They're in the middle cupboard in the kitchen, on the lower shelf I believe."

"Thanks, Teddy's once again in a mood where he won't eat anything else but that," Potter muttered before disappearing into the kitchen.

"Your grandson isn't here right now?" Mother inquired politely.

"No, Harry and I take turns," Aunt Andromeda answered easily. "He's currently staying over at Harry's place. It's a good way to get him used to different surroundings."

Wasn't Potter living in Grimmauld Place? From the bits and pieces mother had told him throughout the years, Draco didn't have the impression that that place was an ideal home for a kid to live in – or anyone else for that matter.

"All right, I took the last two so you'll have to buy some again at the store, sorry, Andromeda," Potter called out from the corridor.

"It's fine," Aunt Andromeda assured him before she glanced at Draco and his mother. "Give me a moment, please."

"You can drink your tea, Draco; it has quite the pleasant taste," Mother murmured, sipping from her own tea.

For a lack of anything better to do or say, Draco picked up his own cup but pricked his ears when he heard his aunt talking to Potter in the hallway.

"Who's looking after Teddy now? One of your friends?" she was asking curiously.

"No, Kreacher. Don't give me that look; he's been in a better mood since I let him keep some of Regulus' stuff," Potter huffed. "I wouldn't have left Teddy with him if I didn't trust him. Besides, I put up some charms just in case."

Regulus? Wasn't that a cousin of Draco? He furrowed his eyebrows slightly. Mother had never talked about that part of the family in any detail, but he was pretty certain this Regulus had died a long time ago.

"How are you holding up?" Aunt Andromeda asked; her voice gaining a layer of intensity when she added, "Did they catch the one who attacked you yet?"

"I'm fine, honestly," Potter sighed, sounding quite aggrieved when he continued, "And no, they didn't catch them yet. The Aurors don't even have a clue who they are looking for, so I'm basically bloody housebound at this point."

"Did they tell you to stay home?" she questioned concerned.

"Well, they heavily advise me to stay indoors so make of that what you will," Potter replied annoyed. "I bloody hate this crap. They're treating me like a little kid, as if I didn't spend six years having Voldemort trying to murder me – "

Draco couldn't quite suppress the flinch at hearing the Dark Lord's name being uttered so casually. He shook his head when mother cast him a concerned look and went back to listening to the conversation.

"Wasn't it seven years?"

"No, six years. He didn't try anything during my third year, but that's not the point," Potter said dismissively. "The point is that they are now treating me like I'm some kid they need to protect when I've been taking care of myself for years now and I'm fine. If Voldemort didn't succeed, why do they think some random person will?"

"They have figured out at least that it's only one person who attacked you?"

"No, they don't know that either, but whether it's one person or a group, I know how to defend myself. I shouldn't be a prisoner in my own home simply because some bloody idiots think they're the new Voldemort!"

Silence reigned in the hallway and the living room after that particular outburst.

"It's just until they capture the one or ones responsible for this," Aunt Andromeda said soothingly.

"Funny, pretty sure they tried to placate Sirius with that reasoning as well," Potter muttered darkly. "Whatever, I'll be careful when I'll go outside but you can't expect me to stay cooped up the entire time. I've had to do that too much in the past."

"Harry …"

The way Potter inhaled deeply was audible all the way into the living room.

"It's fine, Andromeda. Now I need to get going before Teddy does attempt to find out if he can shatter windows with his screams. Ron and Hermione will be visiting soon as well. You should go back to your sister and nephew. Pretty sure it's not appropriate Pureblood behaviour to keep family waiting like this."

Draco couldn't quite tell whether Potter was sneering that last comment or whether he was making a weak joke. He could hardly go stand in the doorway and get a look at Potter's face, though.

"I don't think that's only Pureblood behaviour," Aunt Andromeda said lightly. "Stay safe, okay? And give my grandson a kiss from me."

"I will attempt the first one and definitely do the second one," Potter retorted, followed by the sound of the Floo activating.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting," Aunt Andromeda said briskly when she returned to the living room, sitting down in the armchair again. "Harry's been so busy with all the letters he's been receiving and the meetings he's having with the Aurors that we haven't had much time to catch up lately."

"They really have no idea who attacked Potter?" Draco asked, ignoring mother's light reproaching look.

"They don't apparently," Aunt Andromeda answered after a pause and eyed him shrewdly. "Right, Harry did mention you were there with him when he was attacked the previous two times."

"You think I have something to do with that?" he asked coolly.

"I don't," she replied to his surprise. "If only because I know your mother and father instilled in you the value of self-preservation." The corners of her mouth twitched. "Not to mention you come across as an intelligent man; one would have to be extremely idiotic to put themselves in danger whilst launching an attack."

"It doesn't seem that every Auror shares your view, Andromeda," Mother said neutrally.

"When Harry Potter is the victim, the entire Auror corps is put under heavy pressure to produce results fast," Aunt Andromeda answered laconically. "I don't agree with the narrow view some of them unfortunately have but clearly they don't have any evidence that would allow them to bring in Draco for questioning."

"You assume they will do everything according to the rules," Mother said flatly.

Aunt Andromeda's eyes glittered when she retorted, "They might not but I would not want to be in their shoes if Harry finds out they have been fabricating evidence in order to arrest an innocent person." The mirth she spoke with at the start of her comment dulled out by the end of it and her face tightened almost imperceptibly.

"That is if Mister Potter does not tire of coming to our defence," Mother said finely.

"I understand Harry and Draco did not have the best relation during their school time," Aunt Andromeda said dryly, "but Harry wants justice to be done more than he wants to give in to any grudges he might still carry. If the Aurors do come for Draco, I have no doubt Harry will be there to speak up in his defence."

That for some reason had mother looking thoughtfully for a moment, not reacting when Draco gave her a questioning glance. He thought he should be wary of what had put that look on her face, but really, it wasn't as if she could be thinking of something that he disliked.

He could not say he liked mother's idea.

"You can't be serious," Draco said incredulously, staring at mother from across the breakfast table.

Truly mother had never been the jokester type, but this time she had to be joking because there was no way she could actually be –

"I am very much serious, Draco," Mother said calmly, nodding at the house elf when it popped up next to her to deliver her a fruit salad. "Why would I joke about something like this?"

"Because there's no way you believe he would accept the invitation even if I were to send him one," he retorted, pressing his lips together in annoyance when she merely lifted an eyebrow. "Mother, really, you have to know there is no way he would accept an invitation of us."

"And why not? Mister Potter seems to be a reasonable man - "

Draco did not entirely manage to cover up his snort, which had her giving him a chiding look.

"So there is a chance he will accept our invitation if only to find out why we invited him in the first place," she finished serenely.

"Why are you inviting him?" he demanded because so far all he had heard that they must invite Potter over for dinner. He had yet to hear any reason as to why they should do this.

"Because it is appropriate to extend olive branches, especially considering the help he offered us during the trials," she explained, still serenely. "It would not hurt to have him regard us favourably either."

"I fear you overestimate how much you can charm him if you believe he will ever regard us favourably," Draco murmured, sparing a nod for one of the house elves when it refilled his cup of tea.

"He cannot hate you like you believe he does if he came to your aid during the trials, Draco," she said reproachfully. "Did you not extend your hand in friendship to him in your first year?"

He flushed at the reminder of that embarrassing event. "Yes, and look how he reacted to that," he said sourly.

"You started out on the wrong foot; such things can happen but Draco," she leant forwards slightly, lowering her voice to force him to listen to her well, "you are no longer a naïve child. You have the opportunity to start anew; I suggest you take it."

Who says I even want to start anew?, he wanted to ask but it would be futile, he knew. Once mother had decided on something, nothing would be able to sway her; no reasoning existed to change her mind. He would send a letter to Potter and extend an invitation for dinner, no matter how useless he considered this endeavour to be.

Mother truly overestimated both her charm and Potter's supposed inclination to forgive if she believed Potter would answer their invitation favourably.

Draco stared from his position in the doorway, watching mother stride forwards to properly greet Potter, who had just arrived by Floo. Potter was dressed in simple but decent robes and looked as bewildered to be here as Draco felt.

"Welcome, Mister Potter," Mother smiled; her smile not even twitching when Potter almost stumbled upon exiting the fireplace. "I'm glad to see you accepted our invitation."

"Ah, you can just call me Harry," Potter said awkwardly. "And erm, thank you for the invitation."

"If you will follow me, dinner is almost ready," she said with a faint smile. Her robes swished around her ankles when she turned around and walked out of the room.

"Malfoy," Potter greeted him fairly neutrally.

"Potter." Draco inclined his head. "I'm surprised you actually showed up."

"Yes well, I'm surprised you invited me," Potter retorted and swept some soot off his sleeve. "I definitely did not expect that from you. Thought it was some kind of weird joke actually."

"If you thought it was a joke, why did you accept the invitation then?" Draco asked, keeping some distance between them as they followed mother to one of the smaller dining rooms.

"You want the truth?"

"That would be nice, yes."

"Because I want to find out what your deal is, Malfoy," Potter answered bluntly and added after a contemplative pause, "And accepting your invitation means I get to leave Grimmauld Place again; a change of scenery is nice."

"Mother decided to invite you, I was simply the messenger, Potter," Draco said dryly and side-eyed him. "Do your friends know you're here?"

"Of course they know. They were actually with me when your owl arrived," Potter answered calmly, regarding the portraits of Draco's ancestors with some interest.

The interest was returned by several of them as they watched Draco and Potter walk past them. No doubt they would start gossiping as soon as Draco and Potter were out of sight. Purebloods they might be, but some of them had quite the taste for gossip.

"And they didn't try to stop you from coming over here?" Draco questioned sceptically, quirking an eyebrow. He would be shocked if at least the Weasel hadn't tried to stop him.

"They do consider me crazy for accepting the invitation," Potter snorted. "But I've got my wand with me and you've seen me fight before. You would have to be stupid to try to attack me."

That was quite arrogant, no surprise of course when it was Potter, but Draco hated the other one was right. Arrogant he might be, but he definitely had the skills to back up his arrogance and Draco would indeed be stupid to try to attack him – especially when the limit on his wand would last at least a couple more months.

"I do hope you're not allergic to anything, Harry?" Mother inquired politely as she led them into the southern dining room.

The table had been beautifully set up by the house elves, of course, with the lilac napkins even folded together into an artificial flower, but it was the view of the garden that was the most magnificent aspect of this particular dining room. Through the large windows one could see the expanse of multicoloured roses spreading out like the sea in front of them accompanied by two statues of nymphs pouring water into the small basin. The setting sun could be seen from here as well, bathing this part of the garden in yellow, red and orange.

The table they sat down at was one of the smallest in the manor and Draco didn't think it was a coincidence mother had chosen this particular room to have dinner take place in. With the short length of the table, the setting was a lot more intimate than it would have been in one of their more formal dining rooms, where the seats had a rather large distance between them.

"As far as I know, I'm not allergic to anything, no, Mrs. Malfoy," Potter replied politely and while he might be trying to come across as aloof, Draco could see his eyes lit up when he got a good look at the garden.

"Your garden is very beautiful," he blurted out, flushing slightly when mother smiled indulgently at him.

"A work of years," she admitted as they sat down. "It took a bit before we figured out the perfect caring schedule to have so many roses blooming at once."

"I can imagine that," Potter said, nodding.

"You happen to have a green thumb, Harry?"

Potter rubbed the back of his neck. "I wouldn't dare to claim having a green thumb, but I was the one in charge of the flowers in the garden of my relatives' home and I never received complaints about that."

His tone was quite wry and Draco didn't miss how Potter had gone for the most neutral word for family.

"If you'd like, you could visit the garden after dinner," Mother suggested lightly. "I find myself enjoying the garden the most when the sun has almost entirely set."

"I might take you up on that offer, Mrs. Malfoy," Potter smiled.

Draco couldn't believe it, but this dinner might not be such a disaster after all if Potter could remain this polite. He decidedly ignored mother's meaningful look and instead prepared himself for what might be the most interesting dinner in his life so far – and he had yet to decide whether that would be in the positive or the negative sense.

AN2: Never underestimate mothers, clearly.

Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.

I hope to see you all back in the next chapter! Please stay safe and take care of yourselves!

Cuddles

Melissa

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