That had been the best birthday of his life and it had nothing to do with the fact that he had never had one celebrated, it was more that the Malfoys knew how to make you feel special, like a king. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he understood why Draco used to be so spoiled on some occasions, he had everything he wanted, when he wanted, because he could. And if he, as his son's best friend, had been organized not only an incredible dinner, but also a number of surprising gifts, he had no doubt that Draco had twice as much as he had been offered and it was no wonder, the Malfoys could afford that and more.
As soon as he arrived at the mansion, some elves had greeted him with endless praise for him while offering him something to drink for that particularly hot summer night. He declined the offer, using all the manners he had learned from Draco throughout his first year, pureblood manners that made him feel clumsy, especially because of the naturalness with which his blond friend used them. After the warm welcome, they took him directly to what would be his room, three times larger than his room with the Dursleys and a thousand times more luxurious, without second-hand furniture or furniture about to fall down from a single breath, only fine wood, silk fabrics, very expensive tapestries, gold and silver ornaments, crystal chandeliers and a bed where he and the Weasley brothers could sleep without problems.
His desire to explore and get to know the house was enormous, but Draco had asked him to wait in his room, take one more shower and put on the outfit that had been prepared for him and that was inside the closet. The exclusive bathroom in his room was a huge bathtub that looked more like a miniature pool of white and gold marble where he spent about an hour, submerging himself up to his head, enjoying the salts and the aromatics that made his skin feel soft, not like that horrible soap that his aunt made him wash the dishes with and that left his skin itchy and with ugly welts. After taking the "Take your time, today is your day" very literally, he finally went out and dressed in the clothes that had been prepared for him, a wizard's suit as luxurious as the ones Draco usually wore, the fabric was thin, even the underwear that did not belong to him, since his boxers were already so old that they were almost transparent.
The suit was Slytherin green, it had a note on it from Draco that said "Why does it match your eyes" and that made him laugh. He put the whole outfit on, it wasn't as light as the black suit he had put on only a couple of hours ago and that the elves had probably taken away to be washed by now. It was comfortable and even softer. He put on a brand new pair of shoes and walked over to the mirror on the wooden vanity and looked at the lotions and creams there. Not really sure how to use them he simply took some cream from a little purple bottle that said it was for hair and let it soak into his wild curls, leaving them shiny and silky, but just as messy.
He looked at himself in a full-length mirror by the window, it was as if the boy in the worn-out clothes three sizes too big had never existed, his reflection showed him a person Harry didn't know, but he didn't dislike him at all. It was as if his appearance gave voice to how he felt inside, self-confident and powerful, not even the Dursleys had ruined his birthday and he rejoiced internally as he remembered their faces of stupefaction when they realized the kind of people Harry was hanging out with, when they realized - surely - that the business dinner had only been a ruse to humiliate them a hundredth of what they had humiliated his orphaned nephew and he felt good, Draco and his mother had acted impeccably, denoting superiority and wealth and Harry would never forget those faces of disbelief before leaving. This was what the real Harry Potter was supposed to be like, and he was nothing compared to the boy who got dirty with manure while fertilizing his unbearable aunt's flowers.
Draco had come for him around ten, knocking softly on the door, looking as dapper as Harry, who couldn't help but think how stiff his friend looked in the Malfoy environment, as if he were a miniature adult and not the boy who ate half the box of sweets in one sitting so he wouldn't have to share. Draco showed him around Malfoy Manor, or at least the part of it that was on the way to the main dining hall. When they got to the table, a feast better than the one at Hogwarts was already waiting for them. At the head of the table sat Lucius Malfoy.
That was the first time Harry had seen the man, but he was just as he looked in all those books and newspapers where he had been informed about the magical world; rigid, serious and extremely imposing. Lucius Malfoy was the living representation of all the traditional purebloods, with a countenance that shouted to the four winds who had the power in that property, dressed luxuriously and perfectly combed. With his grey eyes so similar to Draco's but hardened so as not to let any weakness show through them. And Harry admired him. He understood why Draco was the way he was, his father had taught him everything he knew about appearances, manners and customs and he was fascinated. It was a face of the magical world that he had not been able to see up close and he wanted to know, he wanted to soak it up, but above all, he wanted to learn.
Not that frivolity caught his attention too much, but if there was one thing he had learned in Slytherin it was that if he wanted to keep rising he had to prove that he was the best and Harry being a half-blood whose fortune was not matched by a hair, had to work twice as hard, he had to learn to keep up appearances and not because he was ashamed of his lineage, but because surrounded by snakes who wanted his crown -one that he was barely earning-, it was always best to leave weaknesses buried, where no one could find them and take advantage of them. And not just because of the Slytherins, he could already make a list of the number of people who wanted to see him fall, envious of his fame and the feat that had won him more followers than ever, the matter of the philosopher's stone.
Narcissa smiled kindly at him from her place to her husband's left, Draco offered Harry the other head of the table, but Harry, watching the way Lucius was calculating everything from his place, refused and preferred to sit to his friend's right, silently telling the Malfoy patriarch that he would not dare disrespect him in any way, that he was in control. Draco smiled discreetly at him when he made that decision and Harry knew that it had been a test and that he had passed it with flying colors. Perhaps he had learned more than he had expected.
The dinner began with a silent Lucius Malfoy watching him chat with his only son and his wife, almost in whispers. And it ended with the Malfoy patriarch chatting with him calmly and in a civilized manner. At first it was clear that Lucius had tried to humiliate him; Harry assumed that believing him to be raised among muggles he would be an ignorant man unworthy of all the luxuries that his wife and son had insisted on having with him. But great was the surprise of the man - and of Harry himself - when he realized that the boy was not only not ignorant, but was also very well informed about everything. The idea that Draco had subtly prepared him for that moment, day by day, between casual conversations, made the dark-haired man tremble internally and he made the mental note to reinforce his ability of stealth and subtlety. He was glad that Draco was his friend, he couldn't imagine how lost he would be if it hadn't been that way, having the blond as an enemy could be deadly, especially because he was so silent that when you realized the poison was already in your entire body.
When the delicious feast was over, Lucius seemed extremely impressed with it, or at least enough to stop looking at it suspiciously. After dessert he received his gifts; some spring and winter robes from Narcissa, as well as some fancy quidditch equipment, plus her thanks for giving Slytherin the cup, not only of quidditch, but of the houses. A silver ring shaped like a snake and with emerald eyes from Draco who had one exactly like it, making them some kind of friendship rings. And finally a collection of books of all kinds from Lucius, among which were potions, charms, history, herbology, magical creatures, defense against the dark arts and a small black-covered diary that as soon as he touched it made him feel strange, it gave off ancient magic, one that he did not know, but that made him feel inevitably attracted.
He was so excited about his spectacular birthday that he didn't even remember Dobby's warning and, with the foolishness of a boy who is blinded by shiny things, he put all his new belongings away in his room.
However, the diary didn't stay in his hands for long. By the third day, with the Malfoys out of the manor, Draco had returned to being his usual tantrum-ridden self, and had expressed quite a bit of displeasure at the number of times he'd wanted to keep the object, claiming that he found it fascinating; it had supposedly been made by goblins. Harry, of course, already accustomed to his silent tantrums, simply gave it to him as a thank you for the fabulous days they'd spent together, and Draco, pretending very well that he didn't want it, finally agreed.
They spent their mornings playing Quidditch, their afternoons practicing the charms they would see the following school year, taking advantage of the fact that no one in the Ministry would dare bother the Malfoys because two minors were doing magic without authorization. Harry thought that being influential was great, unlike him who hadn't even been able to put pig ears on his annoying cousin. They spent the nights in each other's rooms chatting until they were too tired to continue. Hedwig spent the nights around the grounds of Malfoy Manor, hunting mice or lizards, free, as free as her owner who for the first time felt comfortable outside of Hogwarts.
With only a week left until the end of the holidays, Harry received a letter from Ron who, really concerned about not causing him problems with his uncles, invited him to spend time at the Burrow. To which Draco said:
—You're not thinking of getting into that pigsty when you could stay here, are you?
—Ron is my friend, and I'm actually curious to know how wizards who don't spend five hundred galleons on chocolate live.
—That was an emergency —the blond answered, standing up. They were both sitting in the garden, reading. Then he smiled at her. —Okay, the more allies the better. I'll tell my mother to prepare a carriage for you, or would you prefer a portkey?
—I think I prefer the portkey. Thanks.
"Anything for your majesty," the blond replied playfully and they both entered the mansion.
Harry arrived at the Burrow that same night, Ron had gone to pick him up with his brothers in the limits where he was allowed to Apparate with the Portkey. The Weasleys, of course, received him in a completely different way than the Malfoys, they were much warmer and softer, they smiled at him without hesitation and left their feelings and emotions bare, they were extremely sincere. Something that for Harry was a grave mistake. He thought that if he were the enemy it would not be difficult for him to attack them without the need for physical violence, but he was there to have fun, not to be the prince of Slytherin. However, lowering the wards was not up for discussion, he just had to let the Weasleys think he was as sincere as they were and he would have no problems.
The Weasley estate looked as if it had once been a great stone pigsty, but here and there they had added so many rooms that the house was now several stories high and so crooked that it seemed to be magically held upright, and Harry suspected that was probably the case. Four or five chimneys crowned the roof. Near the entrance, stuck into the ground, was a crooked sign that read "The Burrow." Around the front door was a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens pecked about the farmyard. And Harry couldn't help thinking about the difference in families - not that the bunch of redheads were inferior, but if Harry didn't like Ron, he probably wouldn't respect them either, not like he respected Lucius Malfoy whose whole appearance screamed "You don't want to mess with me."
The Weasleys were a giant teddy bear, somewhat old and dusty, but beautiful, the Malfoys were like a masterfully carved stone sculpture next to which you could sit on a hot summer afternoon. And they were so different that Harry was fascinated by them in equal parts. They were like two sides of a coin and Harry was in the middle, he thought that learning from both would be the best, having the loyalty of people who would not betray him and the support of powerful people who would help him go as far as he wanted, just as the hat had told him.
With the Weasleys he didn't have a big dinner of exotic food, nor a room with a bathroom for himself, in fact, he had to share a bed with Ron, but he had fun playing with the twins and even with his friend's best sister who would enter Hogwarts that year and who seemed extremely interested in him and not just because he was Harry Potter. Ron had told her that apparently he was her platonic love or something like that, but the girl in his presence didn't usually say more than two words stammered with insecurity. Fred and George kept bothering them with that, but Harry wasn't bothered in the least, he thought he didn't have time to waste on nonsense, he still had to leave his name high.
He received letters from Draco almost every day, telling him how boring his afternoons were now that he was gone and trying to convince him to come back by bribing him with that five hundred galleon chocolate that he ended up sharing with the Weasleys. Being with the redheads was fun, but it wasn't as fun as being with Draco, even when Neville visited them for a couple of days. And the thing is that Harry felt extremely strange surrounded by lions, he supposed it was habit, habit to less warm attitudes, habit to Draco every morning in the bed next to him and the thing is that no matter how good a friend Ron was, Malfoy was his best friend and he understood him better than anyone.
Ron needed words, Draco understood him even when his gaze seemed bored, and the fact is that both complemented each other so well that Harry could not even imagine for a moment his life in another house, with other companions. It was as if life had put the blond in front of him to slap him in the face and shout at him how wrong he was about life. To teach him and he could learn, to be comrades, to be allies, to go far, together. At Draco's side, Harry felt capable of dominating the entire world, with Ron he only wanted to rest, eat candy and talk about Quidditch, as if he were a normal boy. Only Harry was not a normal boy, he was the boy who lived, who had defeated Voldemort twice already, who would defeat him again when the time came.
And while he had been with the Dursleys, Harry had not only studied the books Dumbledore had given him to learn how to control his power, but he had also acquired other books - from the Malfoy collection - that had taught him a lot of things. He might not have had as much knowledge as Dumbledore, but he knew at least as much as a fourth year student, and that, added to his natural magical power, made him feel very self-assured.
The letter from Hogwarts with the next year's supplies finally arrived, along with a letter from Hermione who worriedly asked where Harry had been, who hadn't bothered to answer her owls. In the end, the three boys had agreed to go together to Diagon Alley to buy the materials, which ended in a disastrous meeting between the Weasleys and the Malfoys, all because Draco had decided to make fun of Ginny, who hadn't left him behind since they had gained confidence.
It was then that Potter realized that it might be impossible to maintain alliances with both families, that at some point he would have to choose. And it made him sad, because he didn't want to lose the benefits of either. He thought he would always choose Draco, after all he was his best friend and housemate, but he had also shown him things about himself that no one had done, he had helped him regain his confidence and see how capable he was of achieving everything he wanted. And it wasn't that Ron was worth less, it was just that he wasn't worth the same to Harry. But since that might be centuries away, Harry decided that the smartest thing to do would be to remain neutral, that would not only ensure both alliances, but also save him trouble.
Finally, that afternoon of shopping, he returned to the Burrow with Lockhart's useless books that were pure rubbish, a photograph for the Daily Prophet next to that useless book that would surely appear in the next day's edition, an Arthur Weasley apologising to him for something that had not been his fault and a Ginny Weasley who had just fallen for him for having said a "Draco, don't bother her" more out of politeness than anything else. The second year promised to be quite busy and Harry didn't know if he preferred to face Voldemort on the back of someone's neck or the heart-shaped eyes of his friend's sister. Either way, he hoped that Draco would be there to help him.