Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy tried to control his breathing and turned his face slightly so the sand wouldn’t enter his nostrils. He focused on getting back the feeling on his fingers after being immobilized for the third, or fourth or fifth time. He couldn’t remember.
From the weird angle he had fallen into, he could only see white sand and small waves breaking on the shore. The rhythmic sound was almost like a lullaby, and it made him remember he wouldn’t mind taking a short nap. Maybe a long nap would be nice. Waking up before dawn to speak with Harry was taking a toll on him, especially since Mother had decided to fill his summer not with relaxing activities, but with ruthless training.
“Get up, darling”.
Slowly, he turned until he could face her and he looked at her with his saddest puppy eyes, pleading to end the dueling lesson. Mother held her wand in front of her, her stance was still perfect and there wasn’t even a speck of sand on her beautiful creamy blond hair. She shook her head and smiled.
“You can do it. Only one more time”.
Draco peeled himself off the sand. He casted a quick charm to clean his muggle linen shorts and T-shirt. He removed the sand from his hair and straightened his back to copy Mother’s posture.
“Remember, if your reflexes are not better than your opponent’s, you can make up for it starting with shorter spells. Remember to use everything you have in your surroundings in your favour too”.
“You will win anyway”.
Draco pouted and tried the puppy eyes again, asking silently for a longer break.
It didn’t work.
“And so you’ll learn. Wand ready, darling. One, two, three”.
“Protego!” He yelled and his shield formed just before Mother’s “Stupefy” crashed into it. Draco felt the reverberations of the strong impact. He focused on keeping the shield up until Mother stopped her attack to cast another spell. Any second now…
“Avis!”
“Glacius!” Draco yelled as fast as he could and he pointed his wand at the very close seawater. A big block of ice formed there. In the corner of his eye, he saw she conjured a dozen small birds.
“Oppugno!” Both yelled at the same time. The birds rushed to attack him, while the ice flew towards her.
“Evanesco!” Draco managed to disappear half the conjured birds, and he created a shield to protect himself from the other ones.
Mother broke without any trouble the ice Draco had sent against her. Then, she transformed the ice fragments into arrows. Draco yelled “Fumos Duo” to hide himself behind a smoke screen and her “Oppugno” followed soon after. He ducked to get out of the way of the arrows.
“Flipendo! Depulso!” He shot the spells quickly. He immediately ran to his left, so he could hide better in the smoke.
Mother side stepped both attacks and sent a huge jet of water to him. He jumped to the side to evade it, and casted fire to stop the water before it fell to the ground. The resulting vapour rose around him.
He waited in silence for her to make the first move, his location covered by the smoke and vapour surrounding him.
“¡Incarcerous!”
Draco moved to the side in controlled steps, avoiding disturbing the smoke. “Expelliarmus!” He yelled and moved again.
She blocked it and shot back a “Flipendo” too close to him. He fell to the ground and rolled in his rush to avoid it, but his fierce dodging disturbed the smoke screen and revealed his position.
“Petrificus Totalus”.
Draco fell to the sand again, immobilized. It was lucky Mother had charmed it to cushion his falls or he would be already bruised and hurting.
“It takes you too many movements to avoid my spells. You need to improve your creativity using magic and your aim too”. Mother walked towards him and waved her wand. “Finite!”
He coughed and sat, patting his hair to remove the sand. “You know more spells than I do”.
“There will always be someone who knows more spells. You have to adapt to win, Draco, and you have to adapt quickly”.
He stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I’d have to duel someone soon”.
“You’ve been attacked by older wizards and creatures two years in a row. I don’t know if this year you’ll have to face something like that again,” Mother replied, her lips pressed in a stern line.
Draco didn’t have an answer to that.
He agreed it was necessary to learn to duel, but her schedule was too much for a distant possibility. It was like she was sure an attack would happen. Or she was, dare he say it, paranoid.
“I think it’s enough for your morning training. You can go back to study, dear”.
Draco stood up quickly, before she could change her mind.
“Don’t forget to clean yourself before touching the books. And remember we’ll practice your Occlumency after lunch”.
Draco nodded and ran back to the small villa they were staying in.
………
Staring at the advanced books Mother had told him to read, Draco let his mind wander.
His summer was very different from any other he had lived before.
Back from Hogwarts, he had spent less than a week at the manor. He only had time to visit Vince and Greg once, and then Mother had announced they’d be spending some time in France. She said they’d stay with the Malfoy branch of the family that lived on the continent. They were going to see Draco’s godfather, a very distant cousin who only wrote to him on his birthday and Yule.
Father had told them to send his regards to his family, but he didn’t offer to go with them.
Those days Draco stayed at the manor, he had behaved strangely.
He avoided Draco’s favoured places and when they were in the same room, he barely nodded and looked at everything but him. The weak part of him whispered in his mind that Father was disappointed. Indifference had been one of his favourite punishments when Draco was little. Thoughts about Father giving up on him and not caring for him appeared sometimes, but then Draco received a set of new robes, a book, a magical toy.
Father had bought him lots of presents, and he gave him an enchanted wallet full of galleons for him to spend, in his words, “however you seem fit”. He had also stopped bothering Draco to practice his flying or studying, he didn’t mention his marks at all. When the letter congratulating him for being the first in his year came, Father only told him “well done” and ordered the elves to make Draco’s favourite foods everyday.
The day they had to take their international Portkey in the Ministry, Father had put his hand on his head as a good-bye, and he hadn’t said his usual “make me proud”.
Some hopeful part of Draco thought Father was acting like that because he felt guilty. It made sense, the gifts and the lack of hurtful remarks could be regret and a distant way to make up for the Chamber…
He couldn’t figure out what Father was thinking.
It didn’t matter, though.
Father could feel guilty or mad or sad or whatever, Draco didn’t care.
Father was stupid if he thought he could buy Draco’s respect back. He hadn’t forgiven him and silent gifts wouldn’t make up for it.
The visit to his godfather and the French Malfoys had been quite short. Five days of pleasantries with fourth, fifth and somethingth cousins, aunts and uncles Draco had met only twice in his lifetime. Three soirées and one ball with Paris' wealthiest families, where Draco danced and practiced his French with other rich teenagers who attended Beauxbatons. One day of walking through the most magical places of Paris, where Mother explained about history, art, and how different was the way french magical society interacted with muggles, sometimes almost blending while keeping the secret.
After that week, Mother took him to a small summer villa, retired from everything except the sea.
The good thing of living alone with Mother and a couple of the elves bound to her was she was more affectionate than at the manor and Draco could act however he wanted, as long as he kept his manners. Mother had smiled while he read the muggle books Hermione got him, she had chuckled at the amount of letters he sent to his Slytherin friends, and she didn’t mind if he stayed up late or woke up at dawn to speak with his Gryffindor friends using the two way mirrors. She hadn’t gotten angry when the Weasley twins, Ron and Ginny crowded in Ron’s mirror to shriek about their family trip to Egypt. She had massaged her temples at the noise, but she hadn’t kicked Draco out of the living. She kissed his cheek goodnight and hugged him in the morning everyday.
Encouraged by her acceptance, Draco had asked her to buy him muggle stuff. The very next day, she had apparated both of them to Paris and she had taken Draco on a shopping spree in the center of the muggle part of the city. He had successfully acquired lots of muggle clothes to wear whenever he pleased, and more muggle books than he could read in a year.
The peak of her generosity had been when she agreed to meet Hermione and her muggle parents, because they were on a short holiday in France. It was the first time Draco talked with muggles and he was certain it was unusual for Mother too.
Hermione had been unbothered by the novelty of it. After the introductions, in which she used the proper etiquette Draco taught her, she hugged him and started gushing about the latest books she read.
The three adults had seemed lost for a moment, but then Mother politely asked about their jobs and the Grangers explained the complexities of being muggle healers who worked on teeth. Draco fell into a pleasant conversation with Hermione about the summer schoolwork and their friends. Once the ice was broken, Mother and him gave the Grangers a small tour for the secret parts of the Louvre, which connected to another museum focused on magical artifacts and art made by ancient sorcerers. They ate in a restaurant attended by wizards and witches, and Mother narrated slightly embarrassing anecdotes about Draco over a bottle of elf wine. He had been mortified at Hermione’s undignified guffaws when Mother told the Grangers how he fell off his toy broom when he was little, and when he fell off the trees he tried to climb in the manor, and when he chased the peacocks with his friends. Luckily, the Grangers were equally eager to embarrass Hermione and they regaled them with stories about the times she wailed until she got new books and when she had bursts of accidental magic over tantrums for not getting perfect marks. He had laughed at her, and Hermione had hidden behind her hands, blushing furiously.
Draco had never thought he’d live to see Mother’s perfect manners and charming smile used to entertain muggles. She had exchanged explanations, anecdotes and polite jokes without hesitation, in a completely natural way that made the Grangers say she was the nicest witch they had ever met. Draco couldn’t agree more. His mother was breathtaking and kind. He was sure Hermione’s parents had fallen a little in love with her, even Hermione had blushed when she directed the full force of her smile at her.
The only bad thing about their meeting was that Mother discovered Draco would be taking Care of Magical Creatures. They had argued once they were alone, but she had calmed down rather quickly and only made Draco swear he would follow every indication the teacher said, even the tiny ones.
All in all, the day with Grangers had been fun and Draco had promised to try and meet with Hermione, Ron and Harry on Diagon Alley to get their school supplies at the end of July.
………
Unfortunately, living with only Mother and her elves had the downside of him being busy most of the time.
Draco reached teatime with his head pounding. Mother had him in such a demanding schedule for almost a month, he wondered if he’d get alive to September.
She practiced dueling daily with him, then she left him a couple of hours to study and do schoolwork, then they’d practice Occlumency, then sometimes, depending on her mood, more dueling or brewing potions.
She gave him time to cool down and some days they only rested, but it was still hard.
The good news was Draco was ready to beat everyone in his year in a duel, and maybe the students one year older than him. He had learnt Occlumency to some degree too. It was not difficult, but Mother was very strict on him, pushing him to resist from light to severe Legilimency attacks for an hour or more. His mental barriers were strong, but he had yet to control the ability to redirect his thoughts subtly under attack. Draco was trying very hard to master that subject, after he learnt the headmaster could use legilimency wandlessly and wordlessly. It had been an unpleasant surprise for him, and one of the reasons he had to believe Mother’s training from hell was based on real worries for his safety.
Maybe another reason that motivated Mother was Sirius Black’s escape. He was Draco’s first cousin once removed, a former follower of grown up Riddle just like Father, but somehow worse, and Mother had told him she would explain some dreadful secret about him once they were back in England.
If the two years before had taught Draco something, it was that a dangerous person like Sirius Black could create a dangerous situation for him and his friends in Hogwarts, again.
So, he followed Mother’s crazy schedule, reduced his complaints to the minimum and enjoyed the few days he could rest and she took him shopping or sightseeing.
At least he could show off the new charms and transfigurations he learnt to his friends when he got back to Hogwarts. He was sure even Harry would be surprised. And he was ready to beat Hermione again.
His flying had improved too. Mother took him to fly twice a week, racing and sometimes firing spells at each other on the beach. Dueling while flying was really fun. He had only fallen to the sea two times, but it had been fine, he knew how to swim. When he told Harry about it, he was so jealous. They had promised they’d try to practice flying and dueling in Hogwarts.
Draco was enjoying his summer in a twisted way, but he missed his friends. He couldn’t wait to go back to school.
………
Narcissa drank a glass of wine, looking at the calm beach. She and Draco were the only humans in the remote villa. It was like a little paradise just for them. She filled a second glass and drank it.
It still upset her, her baby choosing to be one of Potter’s close friends. One of the inner circle of good-doers. It was like stepping right in front of the line of danger and Draco had already suffered the consequences.
None of them died in the other past, she repeated like a mantra to herself. Those closest to Harry Potter got alive and healthy to the end of the war. It was not the safe place she imagined for Draco, but it was better than getting marked.
He was too deep in and he didn’t want to break from that group. Fine, then. She’d have him ready for whatever came his way. She wouldn’t let her son be unprepared if he wanted to be part of them.
Narcissa glanced at the newspaper and let out a long sigh at the other cause of her stress.
Sirius, Sirius, Sirius.
Her token of payment to Harry Potter was roaming free, probably hungry and dirty. He had survived once before, though. It wasn’t an emergency. Even Dumbledore didn’t know her cousin was an animagus. As long as that information was safe, Sirius would survive the year without her involvement.
Narcissa took a deep breath and focused on the two letters in front of her.
One was from Lucius and it was filled with veiled questions about their wellbeing, their return and their activities. France’s magical society was far more liberal than old Brittain. They wouldn’t tattle if they saw her with muggles. The Malfoys that stayed in the continent or those who moved to France after living in England for a couple of generations, like Draco’s godfather, were way more close to being blood traitors than Lucius would’ve liked. But it was his only family left. Her husband was an only child in his generation with both parents dead, all his uncles and aunts dead. Lucius was alone. No wonder he was so stuck on the idea of keeping a legacy.
He was battling with that, alone in Britain.
The Parkinsons had almost cut off ties with Lucius over the Chamber incident. They knew it had been his plan, he was the one the Dark Lord gave the diary to. They blamed him for Pansy Parkinson’s weak state, night terrors and unstable bursts of magic, the side effects of a prolonged possession.
They were too important and wealthy to push them into obedience and they were threatening to involve the Notts. Lucius was trying to keep them happy, following them around and negotiating a law to favour Mr. Parkinson’s brother’s business.
Not having coerced the Board members to kick out Dumbledore, Lucius was still part of them. He still had power, and he was using it as much as he could, balancing his support to the Parkinsons with his political games in the Ministry.
It kept him away from her and Draco, so it was for the best.
There was one thing he mentioned she didn’t like, though.
Lucius had been called to the Ministry to answer questions about Sirius. That was what happened in the other past too and it was the usual procedure, to call for only one member of the family or all of them at the same time. However, now she had been asked to go too, in a different letter, a different time from her husband. Narcissa glanced at the letter, frowning. She was supposed to only be Lucius’ wife with an unfortunate disowned relative. Had they singled her out as a suspect?
Narcissa was on friendly terms with Amelia Bones, she didn’t think her meeting would go bad, but she didn’t like the implication of someone powerful distrusting her enough to call for her alone. It reeked of someone she knew had something against her pulling the strings.
She’d have to go back early to check if one of her friends knew what was going on.
………
Back in the UK, Narcissa made quick plans to meet her multiple influential friends, but she decided it was time to move towards a side plan she had been working on through the past year, exchanging lots of letters, apologies and a couple of meetings for tea.
Narcissa held Draco’s hand and led him through the muggle streets. They were both wearing muggle clothes, proper ones, of course. Narcissa guided Draco until the houses became scarce. If the address was right, she was two streets away from her sister's house.
She stopped in the shadow of a leafy three.
“Draco, darling. Do you remember you asked me about Sirius Black?”
Her son perked up, clearly interested in the topic she had been talking scarcely, telling him only bits and pieces of information.
“Yes. You told me he was your cousin. First cousin, right?”
“Yes. And what else?”
“He was removed from the Black family tree because he was considered a blood traitor,” Draco repeated. “That’s why I didn’t see him in our books as one of the Black’s family members”.
Narcissa patted the top of his head, fingers trailing the soft strands of hair. “Very good, darling. I’ll tell you more things about him later. Now, I’ve decided to indulge your sudden decision to like and learn muggle… stuff. I think it may be good for you to meet another Black who was removed from our family tree for being a blood traitor. This one is free and married to a muggle-born, the reason why she was kicked out. You may find them interesting”.
Draco’s beautiful eyes grew huge. “Really?”
“Yes, dear. I want you to meet my sister Andromeda. Her muggle-born husband is Edward Tonks. They have a daughter, your first cousin Nymphadora. However, you can’t tell your father about meeting them. Is that okay?”
“Yes, yes”.
They walked a little bit before he stopped. “Mummy, if I’m helping you keep this secret from Father… Could you help me keep something from him too?”
Narcissa chuckled, delighted. Her baby was learning. She patted his hair again and he let her. She tried to tuck one of the strands behind his ear, but it didn’t stay there. It wasn’t long enough, but it’d be soon.
“Of course. What do you want?”
“I want to see my friends, my Gryffindor friends, but Father can’t know about it…”
Narcissa agreed with a gentle smile. It’d be good for him to strengthen those friendships. She was glad it came naturally from him.
“Now, let’s meet your aunt and her family. Remember to be polite”.
“Yes, mummy”.
………
Draco sipped his tea, trying to appear as dignified as Mother was. He couldn’t help but let his gaze sweep the room, though.
The Tonks’ house was not big. It could fit in the main drawing room of the Malfoy manor, but it had its own charm. It wasn’t cramped, the space was well distributed and the decoration was simple and beautiful.
The house’s magic was not as strong as the Malfoy’s or even the Weasleys’. The magic pulsed weakly below the surfaces of the modern house, weak enough so the muggle devices could work, but stable enough to be noticed. Somehow, it worked. The house itself was proof of the carefully-constructed equilibrium Andromeda from the ancient house of Black and her muggle-born husband Edward Tonks had accomplished.
His aunt was almost as beautiful as Mother. The resemblance in their faces was quite noticeable, the gentle lines, the shape of their eyes and their noses. Their hair was different, though. Andromeda’s light brown was a stark contrast with Mother’s creamy blond. At her side, Edward Tonks shifted in his seat. He was a big man, with the start of a retreating hairline and numerous wrinkles around his mouth which revealed him as a person who laughed a lot.
Both were wary, though.
They had greeted mother with politeness in their words, but coldness in their eyes. Draco didn’t really know how Mother reacted when the Blacks disowned her sister, but he guessed it built resentment in both of them. He sipped his tea, trying to not make noise.
His eyes searched the room again, and, unfortunately, his aunt caught him.
“So, Draco. How’s Hogwarts? I heard about last year's incident. It was terrible”.
“It was,” Draco agreed immediately. “One of my friends was petrified and the other-”.
Mother clinked her cup on the table. Draco remembered his family and the Parkinsons had agreed it’d be best if they avoided parading what happened to Draco and Pansy. He changed his story quickly. “The other ones were so worried, and so was I. It was frustrating we couldn’t do much to help”.
Andromeda nodded, her lips still tight, but her gaze turned just a bit softer.
“A friend of yours was a muggle-born? Or was she the petrified half-blood I heard about?”
“My friend is muggle-born. Her name’s Hermione Granger and she’s in Gryffindor”.
Aunt Andromeda seemed deep in thought. Uncle Edward leaned in and smiled gently at him. “How is her recovery going?”
“She told me the petrified students were mostly okay, they only had to drink a potion for nutrition for a month or so”.
“And mentally?”
“Hermione’ fine. She’s upset because she missed lessons and I beat her as the best student in our year, but she says she’ll be first this year”.
Uncle Edward egged him to tell them more about Hogwarts and his friends, so he did. Draco told them about his Gryffindor and Slytherin friends. He saw Aunt Andromeda wrinkling her nose at some of their surnames, but she kept her face less and less stiff the more he talked. Everyone seemed less tense, so Draco soon fell into his usual style of storytelling, waving his hands, modulating his voice and sometimes even making faces.
Uncle Edward was a great audience. He had a loud and contagious laugh and he was invested in asking questions and gasping whenever the story demanded it. Aunt Andromeda was much more composed, but she seemed to like the edited version of his adventures.
They finished drinking their tea and then uncle Edward, who asked to be called Ted, clapped and said he would prepare a light meal.
“Would you like to help me, Draco?”
Draco blinked once, twice, and then it clicked in his brain that they didn’t have house elves, so they had to prepare their own food, and they expected him to help. He glanced at Mother, and she nodded encouragingly.
“Okay, but I’ve never done this before…”
“It’s fine, I’ll tell you what to do. You said you’re good at Potions, right?”
“Yes, I’m the best”.
“Then you’ll do fine. Cooking is a little bit like potions”.
Draco walked next to his uncle and got into the kitchen. He stared at all the cooking implements he didn’t know and there were some muggle devices involved too. Uncle Ted explained slowly what everything was and what to do, and soon Draco was peeling potatoes in a corner. It wasn’t hard, he thought, just before he almost cut his finger. He glared at the potato peeler.
“Be careful,” uncle Ted said, dicing vegetables.
Draco got back to his potato peeling duty, soon falling into a comfortable rhythm of working with his uncle, sometimes exchanging questions and stories about the Hogwarts teachers.
………
Andromeda’s daughter, Nymphadora, arrived and introduced herself almost at the end of dinner.
“Hullo, everyone. You can call me Tonks. I’m so sorry, I had late paperwork. I’m in Auror training!”
She looked the part of a rebellious daughter who didn’t learn proper manners, but Narcissa smiled and answered as sweetly as she could. Nymphadora would be part of the Order of the Phoenix, she was an Auror and she could protect her son.
Draco had been absolutely immersed in her stories, even if she wasn’t a full-fledged Auror yet. When she revealed she was a metamorphmagus, he had squealed and demanded she made faces for him like a little child. Narcissa tried to stop him when he became almost too much, bordering on bratty behaviour, but Andromeda told her it was fine.
“You raised him well, Narcissa. Thank Morgana he’s different from your husband and you,” her sister said with the same mouth she used to kiss her head and call her “Cissy”.
She looked older, wiser, and still undoubtedly distant from her, despite her best efforts when she started writing to her almost two years ago. Narcissa tried a sad smile, but Andromeda, Andy, averted her gaze.
“He only got the best from us. He’s a bit vain like Lucius, though”.
Andy tensed her lips. “Does he know about his only son's friendship choices?”
“Not really. He knows Draco tried varied alliances in first year, but Lucius prohibited him to keep being too close with the other sort. It didn’t work, and now I help Draco mediate this. Thankfully, Lucius is too busy to pay too much attention”.
Andromeda stared fondly at their children. “They are getting along really well”.
“It will be good for them”.
“Did you tell Draco about Sirius?”
Narcissa sighed. It had been difficult for her to measure the amount of information Draco should know. Sirius Black and his relationship with Harry Potter was the one thing she could not mess up.
She wasn’t sure when Harry Potter learned the truth in the other past, but it had probably been at the end of the school year. She could keep Draco in the dark, but other pure-bloods knew and they could tell him. It’d be better if she was the one telling him.
“I only told him the basics,” she confided in her sister. “I’m not sure if I should tell him more. He’s friends with Harry Potter”.
Andromeda shot her a curious glance. “I think Draco should know. Sirius is his family too, even if he betrayed us all”.
“And for nothing”.
Andy blinked back tears. She had been closer to Sirius, the two Black disappointments. Narcissa didn’t offer comfort, but she took one step closer, without touching her. Andy didn’t close the gap, and they stood in silence, watching their children getting closer and closer.
Narcissa and Draco left Andromeda’s house in high spirits.
Her talk with her sister had gone fairly well, but not perfect. It was clear she didn’t believe Narcissa had changed completely. She didn’t trust her enough. However, Andromeda and Edward seemed to genuinely like Draco. Of course they did, her baby was charming and lovely. They even asked to see him again, and Narcissa had eagerly agreed. Nymphadora had been polite to her, but properly enthusiastic with Draco.
Even if Narcissa could never get the relationship with her sister back, it was good. It was the beginning of getting Draco closer to the people who could protect him.
………
Harry’s summer had been one of the best in his life so far. To begin with, he arrived at the Dursleys carrying the precious two-way mirror paired with Draco’s.
That was it. That was the difference. It made everything better.
Harry had no friends before Hogwarts and last summer Dobby took his letters. Having a friend to talk with almost daily was a completely new experience.
Uncle Vernon had allowed Harry to let Hedwig out at night as long as he promised he wouldn’t send letters to his friends, so he couldn’t write to Ron and Hermione. Draco passed messages from them to Harry using his mirrors. Hermione and Draco were trying to research a way to do it, but for the time being it was impossible to connect their four mirrors together.
Even if he could only talk with one of his friends, Harry was happy. He started almost every day after chatting with a grumpy and sleepy Draco and he went to bed after telling each other everything they did on their day. They got used to talking in whispers, laughing before the sun came up and sometimes doing their school work together late at night.
Unfortunately, Harry had to tell him about the Dursleys, because they had yelled at him to do chores a couple of times when they were talking during daytime. By then, Harry was so used to talking with him, he complained not only about the yelling and the endless chores, but also about the little food he received and Dudley’s attempts to catch and hit him.
Draco had tried to talk Harry into telling an adult about how they treated him, but Harry told him not to. He knew the Dursleys were like that and he didn’t have many adults he could trust. He didn’t want to bother his friends’ families or Hogwarts’ staff.
Harry and Draco had almost fought over his decision to not tell anyone, but in the end his friend agreed to let it go.
Then, it was Harry’s birthday.
He got caring letters and gifts from Hagrid (an angry book for Care of Magical Creatures), Ron (a sneakoscope) and Hermione (a Broomstick Servicing Kit).
Draco had outshined everyone, though. He gave Harry what he proudly called his Horrible-Relatives-Survival-Kit. It included many magical objects that didn’t activate the trace.
“At least until we can get you out of there, this should help to make your summers a little better,” Draco wrote in the note that came with the gift.
It was a gigantic box that had to be carried by Iris and three other owls. It included a colour-changing luminous sphere and four decorative rocks that could activate privacy charms if placed on the corners of a room. Thanks to those, they could speak without the fear of being heard. Harry could sing at the top of his lungs, do his homework with the lights on or do whatever he wanted in his room without fearing the Dursleys’ ire. There was also a magical universal key that could open any non-magical lock, so Harry could get his school stuff easily from the locked cupboard uncle Vernon put everything in.
Draco told him he couldn’t find anything small Harry could wear to not hear their nasty words, so he had to settle for scented candles to help Harry to relax after they were particularly horrible.
That was not the best part, though.
The element of the kit Draco was most proud of, and Harry liked the best, was the enchanted iron tray. It included a permanent stasis charm for food placed on it. The best part was it worked as a magical passage between the tray Harry had and a copy in Malfoy manor’s kitchens. The elves at the manor had been ordered to keep the copied tray always full of food, and they thought the food was for Draco to snack on in his room. Whenever Harry emptied the food on his tray, its copy in the kitchens would alert the elves to send another meal.
Harry had tried it instantly. He finished the fruit, sandwiches, scones with jam and cream, pastries and other sweets. After a minute of being emptied, the tray filled itself again.
Harry thanked Draco profusely through the mirror, and he’d never tell him he cried that night.
A day after his birthday, like a compensation from the universe for how good he had felt before, he received the awful news Marge, who was Uncle Vernon’s sister, would stay with them for a week. Harry hated her, she was rude and always made abundantly clear she thought Harry was a waste of air, while she constantly favoured Dudley.
Harry didn’t feel like staying silent, he wanted to answer her like she deserved, but he promised Uncle Vernon to behave if he signed the form to allow him to visit Hogsmeade during the school year. It was easier to put on a vacant expression in front of her when his stomach was full and he could picture himself with his broom kit or talking with Draco later instead of listening to her spitting insults at him.
He almost made it to the end of her stay.
………
Harry rushed out of his personal hell, Privet Drive, as quickly as he could, dragging his heavy trunk and Hedwig’s empty cage. At least she was safe with Ron, gone before Aunt Marge barged into his already awful life and made it worse.
His brain was going over and over his aunt inflated like a giant balloon, levitating and uncle Vernon clinging to her foot trying to keep her close to the ground.
He was surprised he lost control of his magic like that on a muggle.
She had been spitting lies and crap about Harry’s parents, though.
She deserved it.
Harry sat on a corner of the street, tired. He didn’t have muggle money, only a few galleons and sickles.
His anger and frustration was mostly gone, and it left him terrified. He did magic outside the school to a muggle who didn’t know about their world. Last year he had received an official warning because Dobby had used a levitating spell in his house.
After what he did to his aunt… Would he be expelled and his wand broken like Hagrid’s? Would he lose everything he loved, his safe space, his magic, his friends? Could he stay a groundskeeper in Hogwarts at least?
Harry didn’t know what to do. He needed to speak with someone. Who-?
Draco. He wanted to speak with Draco. He had to.
Whenever the Dursleys felt like too much, when Privet Drive closed on him like a blanket of sorrow and hate, he could always call Draco on the mirror.
Something like calmness washed over him once he thought about it. They could think of some solution together. Draco would listen to him.
He got out his two way mirror from his trunk and he called Draco like he did so many times last month.
The mirror stayed the same.
Harry tried again, but the mirror stayed the same.
It wasn’t the usual hour they talked and now that Draco was back in the UK, maybe he was busy.
He had to find somewhere to stay before trying to reach Draco again. Harry was pondering between walking to a park to wait and waiting on the street, when he felt something tickling his neck.
Someone was watching him.
Harry hesitated, but if he was already expelled then a little more magic didn’t matter. He got his wand out of his trunk and pointed in front of him.
“Lumos!”
The light was so bright it almost blinded him. He moved his wand over his head and made visible the garage of the house across the street. He saw a big shadow and huge eyes. Instinctively, Harry stepped back. He tripped over his trunk and fell. In an instant, a purple bus materialized right where his feet had been a second ago. It was a triple-decker, and on the front windshield it had painted KNIGHT BUS on golden letters.
A young guy jumped out of the bus and introduced himself as Stan Shunpike, the conductor. He laughed at Harry’s fallen figure and then he said the bus could take Harry anywhere in England.
Harry quickly climbed into the bus, and he decided he’d go to the only magical place he knew besides Hogwarts: Diagon Alley.