Chapter 9 – Sirius Black and a Family Christmas

On the last day of classes, Harry tried to focus on his work, determined to ignore the ache in his chest. He had hoped for so much more this Christmas. While it was comforting to know he'd spend it with Professor Snape, the fact remained: he still had no family and no real home. His heart sank further with the memory of his most recent lessons with Narcissa and Bellatrix being abruptly canceled.

Snape had assured him it was unavoidable, citing the fallout from Peter Pettigrew's capture. While Harry understood, the change in his routine left him unsettled. He spent the weekend enduring dull, polite conversations as classmates sought his advice on various matters. It was exhausting, and by the time Snape pulled him from Transfiguration early that afternoon, Harry's mood was anything but cheerful.

"I assume this can't wait, Professor?" McGonagall asked as Snape appeared in the doorway.

"It cannot," Snape replied curtly.

McGonagall nodded. "Very well. Harry, do you know what work you're responsible for over the break?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said politely.

"Good. Happy Christmas," she added, a small smile softening her stern features.

Severus turned and strode off, his robes billowing as Harry followed behind him, his steps measured and calm despite the storm brewing within.

When they reached Snape's chambers, the professor extended his arm.

"Come along, Potter."

"Where are we going, sir?" Harry asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"Your new home."

"Home?" Harry echoed, blinking in surprise.

"Yes," Snape replied. "Just trust me, Potter."

Harry hesitated, searching Snape's expression for a clue. After all they'd been through, trust came harder than it should have—but he nodded and took Snape's arm.

When the spinning stopped, they were standing in the elegant foyer of a grand manor. Harry barely had time to take in the towering staircase and glistening chandeliers before his attention was drawn to the three figures standing before him.

Narcissa and Bellatrix stood side by side, regal and composed. Beside them was a man Harry didn't recognise. Narcissa's face lit up as she spotted him, and before he could react, she rushed forward and enveloped him in a warm embrace.

"I've missed you," she said softly, placing a kiss on the crown of his messy hair.

"I—feel the same," Harry replied awkwardly, his cheeks reddening.

Narcissa smiled and stepped back. "Harry, this is your godfather, Sirius Black. He is the head of House Black now and, as your godfather, your legal guardian until you come of age."

Harry turned his gaze to the man, who looked both eager and slightly nervous.

"Hello, Lord Black," Harry said formally. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Sirius blinked in surprise, then grinned broadly. "You as well, Harry. Please, call me Sirius. 'Lord Black' reminds me of my father."

Harry nodded but said nothing. Silence hung in the air between them, heavy and awkward.

"I hope you'll be comfortable here," Sirius said after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "And you're, of course, welcome to visit Grimmauld Place anytime. I know we don't know each other very well yet, but we'll get there." He grinned, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Some things never change," he muttered.

"Visit?" Harry asked, frowning slightly.

"Perhaps we should let Harry and Narcissa speak for a while," Snape suggested, cutting in smoothly. "Black, I assume you have a liquor cabinet somewhere?"

Sirius chuckled. "Right this way."

"Come along, Bellatrix," Snape added, heading for the door.

Bellatrix lingered, before smirking and giving Harry an exaggerated bow. "I'll see you later Harry," she said with a sly wink before sweeping out of the room after the others.

Narcissa knelt in front of Harry, taking his hands gently in hers. Her touch was warm, and though his fingers twitched, he didn't pull away.

"Harry," she began softly, her gaze steady. "I want to apologise—for my ex-husband's behaviour."

"Ex?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yes," she said, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. "Sirius has annulled my marriage. I'm Miss Black now. He's also allowed Bellatrix and me to move back into our family home—this is Black Manor. And I was hoping…" She hesitated, her voice wavering slightly. "I was hoping you might want to live here as well—with me."

"Live here? With you?" Harry repeated, his blue eyes searching hers.

"Yes," Narcissa said earnestly. "I very much consider you a part of my family."

"What about Draco?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Narcissa's face fell, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That… is more complicated. Draco is Lucius' son, and as you might expect, Lucius is furious with me. He's refusing to let me see him."

Harry saw the sadness in her eyes and, for the first time in his life, acted on impulse. He stepped forward and wrapped his small arms around her shoulders.

Narcissa let out a soft gasp of surprise, but then she melted into the hug, holding him tightly.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

For the first time in a long while, Harry felt something stir in his chest—a sense of belonging, fragile but real.

Meanwhile, in the lounge, Bellatrix threw back a shot of whiskey with practiced ease, the glass clinking as she set it down on the table.

"Well," she said, stretching languidly as her sharp eyes darted between Sirius and Snape. "This has been fun, boys, but I have far more interesting things to do."

Without waiting for a reply, she swept out of the room, her black robes billowing behind her, leaving Sirius and Snape in a sudden and slightly awkward silence.

Sirius cleared his throat and poured himself another drink. "Well, that's Bella for you. Never one for subtlety."

"She's… unique," Snape replied dryly, swirling the amber liquid in his own glass.

For a moment, neither man spoke, each lost in his thoughts. Then Sirius leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily. "Look, Snape, I think we need to talk about Harry. I'm guessing you've had a… significant role in his life?"

Snape nodded, his expression unreadable. "I have. More than I initially intended. Potter…" He paused, considering his words. "Harry has proven himself to be different from what I expected. He is more resilient, more inquisitive, and, frankly, more mature than most of his peers—certainly more than his - James ever was at that age."

Sirius winced slightly but nodded. "Yeah, James could be… a bit much. But he loved Harry, and so did Lily. I want to do right by them now. I just don't know if I even know how."

Snape's dark eyes softened, if only slightly. "You'll figure it out as you go along, just like the rest of us. But a word of advice Black, don't ever lie to him. He will know and earning his trust back will be – difficult."

"Spoken as though from experience?" Severus winced.

"Indeed."

Sirius considered this, then said quietly, "Thanks for looking out for him, Snape. I mean it."

Snape inclined his head. "I do it because it is necessary – and I care for him, not for thanks. But… you're welcome."

Sirius exhaled sharply, his lips twitching into a wry smile. "You know, I always thought we'd go to our graves hating each other."

"There's still time," Snape replied with a faint smirk, but his tone was light.

Sirius laughed—a genuine, deep laugh that seemed to clear some of the tension in the room. "You know, Severus, you're not half as bad as I thought. And considering how much I hated you, that's saying something."

"High praise, coming from you," Snape replied dryly, though his lips quirked upward.

The two men shared a tentative, almost companionable silence, their initial animosity giving way to something resembling mutual understanding. Sirius poured another drink and raised his glass.

"To Harry," he said simply.

"To Harry," Snape echoed, clinking his glass against Sirius's.

As the whiskey flowed, the conversation lightened, turning to shared stories of Hogwarts. Sirius recounted mischievous escapades with the Marauders, while Snape countered with sharp retorts and a few sly remarks about the Marauders' questionable judgment.

At some point, Sirius leaned forward, his grin turning playful. "I never realised you could be… charming."

Snape's brows lifted, though a faint flush rose to his cheeks. "And I never realised you could be tolerable. Wonders never cease."

Sirius chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Careful, Snape. If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you're flirting with me."

Snape's lips quirked, his tone as smooth as silk. "If I were, Black, you'd be the last to realise it."

The air between them shifted—charged, unexpected. Sirius tilted his head, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. "Maybe we've been fighting for so long, we forgot what it's like to just… talk."

"Perhaps," Snape said, his voice quieter now. He set his glass down, standing abruptly. "But for now, I should return to Hogwarts. There's much to do, and no doubt Harry will have questions."

Sirius stood as well, his expression unreadable for a moment before he smiled. "You're welcome here anytime, you know. For Harry's sake—or otherwise."

Snape nodded, his dark eyes meeting Sirius's for a lingering moment. "Thank you."

With that, Snape swept from the room, his usual composure intact, though his thoughts were a tangled mix of emotions as he prepared to apparate back to Hogwarts.

Sirius watched him go, the grin returning to his face as he muttered to himself, "Well, isn't this an interesting development?"

He poured himself one last drink, a thoughtful expression settling over him as he raised the glass to his lips. "To new beginnings."

O – o – o – o

That afternoon Bellatrix showed Harry to the training room in Black Manor to continue their lessons. She could sense his frustration all morning and was determined to get to the bottom of it. It wasn't good for him to keep it all bottled up inside, much better to get it out in her opinion.

"Well, this is it," she said putting her arms out and gesturing with a swirl. Harry looked in awe. The training room was cavernous, with high ceilings and reinforced walls that seemed to hum with the magic they'd absorbed over centuries of use.

"Are you ready?" She asked casually. She could feel the air crackle as Harry stood in the centre, his wand at the ready, his jaw set with determination. Across from him, Bellatrix lounged against the far wall, twirling her wand between her fingers, her trademark smirk firmly in place.

"Let's do it."

"Careful, darling," she purred, her voice a dangerous melody. "You look like you've got something to prove."

Harry didn't answer. Instead, he flicked his wand, sending a jet of red light hurtling toward her. Bellatrix sidestepped it with infuriating ease, laughing as she retaliated with a stunning spell that Harry blocked with a sharp, upward slash of his wand.

"Good!" she called, darting around him like a predator circling its prey. "But you'll have to do better than that."

Harry's frustration boiled over. He thought of his canceled lessons, the uncertainties of his new life, and the ache of feeling like he was always one step behind everyone else. He unleashed a rapid succession of spells, each one more powerful than the last. Stunning spells, disarming charms, and curses ricocheted off the walls, the sheer force of them making the air buzz.

Bellatrix's smirk faltered for a moment as she was forced to dodge, block, and counter with a speed that pushed her to her limits. "Impressive," she said, her voice breathless but excited. "But you'll need more control, or—"

Harry cut her off with a silent Incarcerous, ropes flying from his wand with precision. Bellatrix slashed them apart with a flick of her own wand, only to be met with a blinding flash of light that made her stumble back.

"Better," she hissed, baring her teeth in a grin that was more exhilaration than malice. She retaliated with a volley of curses, forcing Harry to duck and roll, his movements surprisingly fluid for someone so young.

Their duel escalated into a whirlwind of spells and counter-spells, the room seeming to darken as the magic swirled around them. Harry's determination burned in his eyes as he pushed harder, faster, stronger.

Bellatrix, though thrilled by the challenge, began to feel a twinge of unease. Harry's magic was raw and powerful, and his precision had sharpened over their sessions. He wasn't just keeping up with her—he was matching her, pushing her to the edge of her own abilities.

Finally, with a well-timed combination of a disarming charm and a binding spell, Harry sent Bellatrix's wand flying and pinned her to the wall with conjured ropes. She struggled for a moment, but the bonds held firm.

Harry stood a few feet away, his chest heaving, his wand still raised. His expression was fierce, and she noticed his eyes lacked the uncertainty that usually flickered there. She gulped in anticipation. Bellatrix tilted her head, her wild curls spilling over her shoulders as she regarded him with something like admiration. Her lips curled into a slow, feral grin.

"Well, well, Harry," she drawled, her voice low and rich with amusement. "It seems I've underestimated you."

Harry stalked towards her, stopping when their bodies were a whisper from touching. He watched her chest heave up and down for several seconds before meeting her eyes.

"Next time, cancel our lessons in person. Not through Snape like a coward." He leaned in, his lips almost brushing her ear. "Until next time - Bella." Then just as quickly as he had moved towards her he turned away. When he reached the doorway, he waved his wand, releasing her from the bindings without even a glance in her direction.

When she felt his magic release her, she stayed against the wall, unable to move. Her lips parted, and a soft laugh escaped—a low, throaty sound that carried a mix of disbelief and thrill. Her pulse still raced even though he'd left the room. She tilted her head back against the wall, her dark curls spilling around her, and let out a breathy moan. Slowly, her smirk returned, though it was softer now, almost reverent. Her body was still tense, not from discomfort, but from the sheer energy coursing through her. She could feel his magic in her veins, like an electric current sparking through every nerve and she couldn't help the arousal that washed over her. She knew she had to ignore it for now- till he was older, till he was ready.

Until then, she would focus on how she hadn't felt this alive—this challenged—in years. It was intoxicating and she had every intention of enjoying it. She let out another laugh, throwing her head back. Harry's magic wasn't something that could be easily contained. It wasn't polished or practiced like her own, but it burned brighter, fiercer, and she couldn't help but wonder what he would become once he truly embraced it – what things would be like once he truly embraced her.

O – o – o - o

On Christmas Eve, the dining room at Black Manor was an opulent space, with dark wood paneling, silver accents, and a long table that gleamed under the soft glow of enchanted candles. It was a room meant for grandeur, but today, it was filled with warmth as Harry sat at one end, surrounded by people he still couldn't quite believe he could call his family.

Narcissa sat to his right, elegant as always, her voice soft as she offered him another serving of roasted vegetables. Bellatrix, seated to his left, lounged in her chair with her usual air of mischief, watching him with a sharp curiosity. Across the table, Sirius was relaxed, his easy smile a stark contrast to the haunted man Harry had first met in the foyer just days ago.

"You're eating well, pup," Sirius remarked, a hint of pride in his voice as Harry accepted a second helping of roasted chicken. "That's good. You're going to need your strength for all the mischief I plan on teaching you."

Harry's lips quirked into a small smile. "I thought I was supposed to set an example, seeing as I'm the Boy Who Lived and all that."

Sirius snorted, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Bellatrix. "Nonsense. I'll teach you the fine art of troublemaking. It's practically a Black family tradition."

"Oh, don't you dare," Narcissa cut in, her tone teasing but firm. "Harry has enough on his plate without you leading him astray."

Bellatrix smirked, her eyes glittering. "Let him have some fun, Cissy. Merlin knows he's earned it."

Harry watched the exchange, a strange warmth filling his chest. He still wasn't used to this—this casual banter, this sense of belonging. It was so far removed from his life with the Dursleys that it almost felt like a dream.

As the meal continued, Sirius and Bellatrix began swapping childhood stories.

"Remember the time you hexed Regulus' hair green?" Sirius said with a laugh.

"Oh, do I," Bellatrix replied with a wicked grin. "He deserved it for stealing my broomstick."

"You mean the broomstick you borrowed from me?" Narcissa interjected, raising an eyebrow.

"Details," Bellatrix said breezily, waving a hand.

Harry chuckled softly, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease a bit more.

As the plates were cleared away by the house-elves, Sirius leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. "This has been good," he said, his voice quieter now. "But I need to head back to Grimmauld Place. There's a lot to sort outbefore tomorrow."

Harry's face fell slightly, but he quickly schooled his expression. "So we'll see you for Christmas, then?"

"Of course you will," Sirius said firmly, his eyes meeting Harry's. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. This is just the beginning, Harry. We've got plenty of time ahead of us."

Narcissa stood, smoothing her robes, and walked over to Sirius, placing a hand on his arm. "You'll always have a place here, Sirius. This is your home as much as ours."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes but didn't argue, instead standing and stretching languidly. "Well, don't get all sentimental on us, cousin. You're still the most exasperating Black I've ever known."

Sirius smirked. "Likewise, Bella."

He turned back to Harry and crouched down slightly, looking him in the eye. "I meant what I said before, Harry. I want to get to know you, and I'll always be here for you. Don't hesitate to write if you need me—about anything."

Harry nodded, his throat tight. "Thank you."

With a final round of goodbyes, Sirius apparated, leaving the room quieter but still warm.

That evening, Black Manor was aglow with warmth and activity. In the sitting room, Harry sat near the fire, reading through one of the books Narcissa had recommended. He noticed her frowning over a letter in her hands.

"Is something wrong?" he asked hesitantly, putting the book down.

Narcissa looked up, her usual poise faltering. "It's from Draco," she admitted, her voice tinged with worry. "Lucius has left him at Hogwarts for Christmas. He says he doesn't want to be alone."

Harry frowned. He had never met Lucius, but he was certain he didn't like him. "What will you do?"

"I'll write to Severus," she said firmly. "He can speak with Dumbledore. Draco shouldn't be alone for Christmas. No child should be."

True to her word, Narcissa sent the letter, and early the next morning, as Harry and the others gathered in the foyer, the fireplace flared to life with green flames. First came Severus, stepping through with his usual reserved demeanour, followed by Draco, who looked both relieved and uncertain.

"Happy Christmas, my little dragon," Narcissa greeted warmly, opening her arms. Draco didn't hesitate. He crossed the room quickly, embracing her tightly.

"Mother," he murmured, burying his face in her shoulder.

After a long moment, Narcissa pulled back, brushing his hair from his face. "Come, let me introduce you to everyone."

Draco stiffened slightly as he noticed Harry standing to the side. "Potter?" he said, his tone questioning.

"Hello, Draco."Harry replied cautiously.

Narcissa intervened smoothly. "Draco, you never had a chance to meet him, but this is my cousin Sirius. He's Harry's godfather."

Draco blinked, surprised, and looked back at Harry. "Godfather? I didn't know..."

"Well, now you do," Sirius said cheerfully, clapping a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Come on, lad, let's get you settled. It's Christmas!"

The tension eased as everyone moved to the dining room for breakfast, and by the time the presents were exchanged mid-morning, Draco was laughing with the others. It didn't take long for wrapping paper to be strewn across the floor in a riot of festive colours.

As Harry sat cross-legged on the floor beside the Christmas tree, he carefully unwrapped a small parcel with his name written in a neat, looping script he didn't recognise. Around him, Sirius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, Snape, and even Draco were engrossed in their own packages, their voices overlapping with gratitude and teasing remarks.

When Harry peeled back the last layer of parchment, he found a simple, unmarked box. Inside was a shimmering silver fabric, smooth and light as water to the touch. His breath caught as he carefully lifted it from the box, the material sliding effortlessly over his hands.

It was an invisibility cloak.

"Is that—?" Sirius started, his eyes widening.

Harry's heart thudded in his chest as he looked up. "What is it?" he asked, his voice hushed.

"That's your father's invisibility cloak. I'd recognise it anywhere."

Harry's hands froze, the fabric pooling in his lap. "My father's?"

"Yes," Sirius confirmed, his face softening. "James always kept it close. It's one of the Potter family heirlooms. How did you get it?"

"I—I don't know," Harry stammered. He reached for the note that had accompanied the package. The words, written in an unfamiliar, looping script, read:

Your father left this in my care many years ago. I believe it is time it was returned to you. Use it well.
— Albus Dumbledore

Harry read the note aloud.

Snape, who had been sipping a glass of mulled wine in the corner, glanced over and frowned. "Trust Dumbledore to withhold something so important until it suited his whims."

"Severus," Narcissa said softly, a warning in her tone.

Bellatrix leaned over, her eyes glittering as she touched the edge of the cloak. "It's beautiful. Imagine the mischief you could cause with something like this."

Sirius leaned closer, his hand clasping Harry's shoulder. "It's more than just a cloak, Harry. It's part of your family's legacy. And it's yours now."

Harry nodded, his grip on the cloak tightening as if afraid it might disappear. The Potter legacy had never felt like his own, but he didn't know how to explain that to the others.

"Try it on," Draco suggested, breaking the silence.

Harry hesitated for a moment, then stood and swept the cloak over his shoulders. As the fabric settled into place, his body vanished from sight, leaving only his head visible above the swirling silver.

"Fascinating," Snape murmured, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Now that's a proper Christmas gift," Sirius said, grinning.

Harry pulled the hood up, and with a flick, he was gone entirely. The room erupted in laughter and exclamations as Harry's disembodied voice said, "It's incredible!"

"It suits you," Narcissa said warmly.

Amelia arrived just before lunch, carrying a small gift box. As she entered the room, her eyes immediately sought out Narcissa, who greeted her with a soft, radiant smile. Amelia leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips, murmuring, "Happy Christmas, Narcissa. Susan went to see Hannah, so I thought I'd stop by and hand deliver your gift."

The room fell silent for a moment, but no one spoke. Narcissa's cheeks flushed slightly as she led Amelia to her seat. Sirius gave Snape a knowing look, which earned him an arched eyebrow in return.

Lunch was a merry affair. Amelia fit in seamlessly, her dry humour blending well with Sirius's boisterous charm and Bellatrix's sharp wit. Harry noticed a strange but undeniable warmth growing between Sirius and Snape, as their teasing remarks carried a touch of flirtation that left Sirius grinning and Snape faintly exasperated.

After lunch, Harry and Bellatrix decided to head to Diagon Alley. Despite the chill in the air, they strolled through the quiet streets, stopping to admire the festive decorations. Snow dusted the cobblestones, and enchanted fairy lights danced above their heads. Bellatrix walked with a certain confident grace, her cloak billowing behind her, while Harry tried to match her pace, his wand hand twitching slightly as if expecting trouble.

"You've gotten stronger, you know," Bellatrix said, glancing at him sidelong. Her tone was casual, but there was an edge of admiration in her voice.

Harry smirked. "Thanks to you. It helps having a competent teacher."

Bellatrix stopped abruptly, turning to face him. "Competent?" she repeated, arching a dark brow. "Is that the best you can do dearest? I'm the best duelist you'll ever meet."

"Confident too," Harry quipped, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Confidence comes with the territory, darling." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low purr. "You should try it sometime."

Harry felt his cheeks warm despite the chill in the air, but he refused to look away. "Maybe I will. After all, I did pin you to a wall earlier. That's got to count for something."

Bellatrix's eyes sparkled dangerously, and a slow grin spread across her face. "Cheeky," she murmured. "But I'll give you that one. You earned it."

They resumed their walk, and Bellatrix gestured toward Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour which was one of only a handful of places open. "Come on, Potter. Let's see if you can handle a cold treat on a cold day."

"Who says I can't?" Harry challenged, stepping ahead to hold the door open for her.

Bellatrix paused, giving him an approving look. "Chivalry now? Be careful, Harry, or I might start expecting it."

"Maybe I'll surprise you," he replied, grinning as he followed her inside.

Harry ordered a peppermint ice cream, and Bellatrix, after a moment's consideration, decided to share. They found a small table near the window, and Harry handed her the spoon.

"Ladies first," he said with exaggerated politeness.

Bellatrix laughed, a rich, genuine sound that caught Harry off guard. "Careful, you might make me think you enjoy my company."

"Maybe I do," he said before he could think better of it.

Bellatrix's hand froze mid-scoop, her sharp eyes locking onto his. For a moment, the teasing air between them shifted to something more intense. Then she smirked, leaning back in her chair. "Good. You'll learn faster that way."

They alternated taking bites of the ice cream, the easy rhythm of their conversation returning. Harry couldn't help but stare at the way her tongue sneaked out to the lick the spoon after each bite. Bellatrix smirked knowingly. They finished the ice cream and stepped back out into the cold, their breath visible in the frosty air. Harry walked closer to Bellatrix than he needed to, drawn to her presence even as he tried to figure out why.

Meanwhile, back at the manor, Narcissa and Draco sat together in the drawing poured herself a cup of tea, her movements graceful and deliberate, but her expression was clouded with concern. Draco sat across from her, watching her intently, his back straight as if bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

"I wanted to talk to you about a few things, Draco," Narcissa began gently, setting her teacup down and folding her hands in her lap.

"I'm listening, Mother," he replied, his tone steady but curious.

Narcissa offered him a small smile. "I want to start by saying I'm sorry—for the way things ended with your father. I can't regret my decision, but I know it has been difficult for you."

Draco shifted in his chair, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin in an attempt to appear older than his years. "I can handle Father," he said confidently, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

Narcissa's smile softened, a hint of pride touching her features. "I know you can, my dragon. But I also know how much he means to you. If you ever need me, or if you find yourself in danger—" her voice faltered slightly before regaining its strength, "—please send word to me. No matter what, I will always do whatever I can to protect you."

Draco nodded, his gaze falling to the carpet. "I know," he said quietly, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

After a moment, Narcissa continued. "There's something else I need to discuss with you—about Harry Potter."

At the mention of Harry, Draco frowned. "What about him?"

Narcissa sighed. "He'll be staying with me during the summer holidays. He needs a mother figure in his life, and your uncle Sirius doesn't feel equipped to provide that. I've offered to take on that role."

Draco's brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he absorbed the news. "That... makes sense, I suppose," he said after a pause. "Will I get to see you during the summer?"

"I hope so," Narcissa said, her voice tinged with sadness. "But I can't make any promises. Your father may make things difficult."

There was a stretch of silence between them, the weight of their fractured family lingering in the air.

"There's one more thing I'd like to ask of you," Narcissa said at last, her tone measured.

"What is it?" Draco asked, his frown deepening.

"I'd like you to look out for Harry at Hogwarts."

Draco blinked, caught off guard. "Harry doesn't need anyone looking out for him, Mother. He's... intense. People either adore him or are too terrified to cross him. He's more than capable of taking care of himself."

"Perhaps," Narcissa said, inclining her head. "But he needs friends more than you realise. He's been through so much, Draco. More than you know." She reached out, placing a hand gently over his. "Please, my dragon. For me."

Draco hesitated, clearly conflicted. His loyalty to his mother warred with his complicated feelings about Harry who seemed to be taking a place in his mother's heart that had previously been reserved for him. But when he looked up and saw the earnestness in Narcissa's eyes, his resolve softened.

"If it's important to you, Mother," he said quietly, "I'll try."

Narcissa's face lit up with a warm smile, and she squeezed his hand. "Thank you, my dragon," she said softly, leaning over to press a tender kiss to his temple.

For a moment, Draco closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like the child he still was beneath the layers of pride and ambition. In that brief moment, the worries of the world faded, replaced by the comforting certainty of his mother's love.