"Father, we're here!" Draco yelled as soon as Harry came through the floo.
Well, as soon as Harry fell through the floo anyway.
"Draco, do stop screeching in the house like a banshee."
Draco flushed slightly as his father entered the sitting room. "Sorry."
His father just waved a hand and smirked at him, "No worries, I believe there are probably a few people in the town who did not hear you." He turned his steely silver eyed gaze on to Harry, "Now, introduce me to your friend Draco."
Draco straightened up, as he was taught to do, and gestured to Harry. "Father this is Harry, Harry Potter. Harry this is my father, Lucius Malfoy."
His father strode forward and offered his hand to Harry. "Pleasure Mister Potter, I've heard much about you."
"Thank you sir, and thank you for having me," Harry said softly, eyeing his Fathers bejeweled cane closely before shaking his fathers hand.
"Of course, Severus says you are a model Slytherin."
Harry tilted his head as he glanced at his father and smirked just a little. "He didn't say I was well-behaved though, did he?"
His Father laughed, something that Draco rarely heard, and gave Harry a considering look. "No, no he did not say that."
Harry grinned at him even as his eyes flicked quickly around the room.
"Come on Harry, I can give you the tour! Oh no, wait, first I have to give you your birthday present. Or actually are you hungry?" Draco knew he was rambling but this was the first time one of his actual friends had come to stay and he was excited.
Gregory and Vincent did not count as friends. Especially since they were all in nappies last time they stayed.
"Draco, why don't you show Harry to his room and then you can give him his gift and you boys can explore the manor if you still feel up to it?" Father suggested.
"Good idea, come on Harry."
Harry followed behind Draco, turning his head side to side to take in the manor as they walked.
"This is a nice place," he offered.
Draco puffed his chest out proudly. "It's been in our family for generations. My great-great grandfather, or great-great-great maybe, had it built."
Draco didn't think Harry was all that impressed with his family history because he just said "Cool."
It was cool.
Draco led Harry to the third floor and waved him inside the guest rooms. "These are your rooms," he told him. "A bedroom, bathroom, and an attached sitting room."
"You and Blaise are so bloody posh," Harry laughed, setting his owl on the perch by the window before flopping on his bed. "Come on, where's all the servants?" He joked.
Draco rolled his eyes, long used to Harry's disdain for the finer things in life. "We do not have 'servants', we have house elves and they are perfectly happy here," he sniffed. "But if you think having nice things is ridiculous then I suppose you don't want your birthday presents?"
Harry rolled over on his side and gave Draco an easy grin. "You didn't have to get me anything, it really was nice of you to invite me to stay."
Draco grinned at him, "Shut up, you'll love it. Stay here!"
He ran quickly to his room, down the hall from Harry's, and grabbed his gift.
"Here! Open it!" Draco thrust the package at Harry and bounced on his feet until Harry opened it.
"What the fuck," Harry whispered.
He looked up from the brand new Nimbus 2001 and stared at Draco.
"You got me a broom?!"
Draco beamed and nodded. "I got one too! And now we can try out for the house team together!"
Harry stared at him for a few more seconds before abruptly laughing. "You're mad! This is way nicer than the one I nicked from school! Can we go fly??"
"Yes!" Draco cheered. "They're the top of the line! I'll grab mine and we can go out back!"
Harry jumped up with an eager look on his face. "C'mon then!"
Draco was about to go get his broom when he hesitated, he did have one more gift for Harry but... Harry looked so excited right now. Happy, in a way Draco rarely sees from him. Surely it can wait?
"Race you!" Draco called, pushing out thoughts of his other gift out of his mind.
The boys spent an enjoyable couple of hours on the pitch, chasing after the snitch and practicing some of the moves Draco had seen professional players use in matches. He begrudgingly admitted that Harry would be an excellent seeker and made him help him practice for a chasers position.
"There's no way they won't choose us for the team," Draco said happily as they put their brooms away. "We'll be unstoppable!"
Harry smiled brightly, his cheeks flushed from the wind, and his eyes alive. "Do you really think I'm good enough to make the team?"
Draco caught himself right before clapping Harry on the shoulder, he almost forgot Harry's vicious aversion to being touched.
"Of course," he said easily. "You're just as good as I am at seeking and I'm amazing."
Harry raised his brows at Draco and gave him an amused smile, "Then how come I caught the snitch every time if I'm just as good as you are?"
Draco crossed his arms and gave his friend a small glare. "Beginners luck," he muttered petulantly.
Harry just laughed at his pout and offered to race him back to the manor.
***POV SWAP***
Harry Potter was an interesting person.
Lucius had tried to subtly dig in to the child's past during their frequent conversations- how did the 'Boy-Who-Lived' come to require housing during his holidays?
The child was as evasive as they come. "Which matters more, my past or my future?" he'd asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Would you like to tell me about your past?" He added in an innocent tone of voice that Lucius easily saw through.
It seemed the child knew of Lucius' affiliations and yet still consented to be a guest in his home.
Either he was incredibly foolish, which Lucius did not sense from him. Or he knew he had nothing to fear. Did he believe Lucius would not hold a grudge on behalf of his fallen Master or was he arrogantly confident that he would be able to protect himself if it came down to it?
"Do you know how to duel?" he asked the boy during breakfast one morning, halfway through his stay.
Potter and Draco shared amused looks. A look that made Lucius believe Draco has kept Potter's secrets close to his chest.
"I do," the boy said, an amused grin on his face. "Learned from the best, supposedly."
Draco let out a sharp laugh that he hastily covered at Narcissa's scolding look.
"Sorry, excuse me," he said quietly, his grey eyes still shining with mirth.
Lucius ignored him and focused on Potter. "What would you say to an exhibition after breakfast? Underage magic is not traceable in our home, due to myself, Narcissa, and the elves levels of magic."
"Darling, is that really necessary?" Narcissa hummed. "I thought I would take the boys shopping for proper wardrobes today."
Narcissa had been eyeing Potter's casual wardrobe with increasing scorn. She fretted for him at night that the 'poor boy needs a woman's touch'. Lucius held the very private belief that if it were up to her Narcissa would adopt every orphaned child she encountered, magical or not.
He never understood how she developed such an empathetic heart, considering the family she was raised in.
Potter, who seemed to equally adore and fear his wife, hastily answered Lucius' request, "Of course! We can duel. I'd love to see what you can teach me," he added in a shy voice.
Lucius may have been flattered by the child's remark if it were not for Draco's quick look of fear that told him perhaps Potter was attempting to play him for a fool.
"Don't hurt him, okay?" He heard Draco hiss to Potter as the three of them entered the dueling chamber.
"No promises," Potter winked.
Lucius would have scoffed at the child's arrogance except... Except the boy held the same casual stance that Voldemort did, before he was a Dark Lord and instead simply ruled over Slytherin. His eyes were sharp, focused on Lucius. He twirled his wand carelessly between his fingers. And he had a small smile on his face, one that was equal parts curious and bloodthirsty.
"We bow," Lucius said.
Potter jerked his head in a semblance of a bow, never taking his eyes off Lucius but clearly refusing to subjugate himself for sport either.
"We begin," Potter said softly, a mocking lilt to his voice and to his smile.
It did not matter what Lucius threw in Potter's direction, the boy sidestepped, dispelled, and blocked every curse, jinx, and hex aimed for him. He pondered if James Potter had any magical creature ancestry. Potter certainly dueled with the grace of a Veela and the quickness of the Fae.
At one point Lucius saw an opening, it seemed as if Potter was distracted by creating a complex shield, and disarmed him. He was momentarily both elated to finally end the duel and disappointed that Potter had let him disarm him so suddenly after only five minutes of the child defending himself.
"Should I begin?" Potter laughed, unconcerned with his wandless state, before a flurry of multi-colored lights came flying at Lucius. He barely threw his shield up in time to avoid them and gaped at the boy.
Lucius had worried that Draco's tales of his allies power had been exaggerated, as his son is prone to do on occasion, but he was intrigued to see that if anything, his son understated it. The publicly beloved Harry Potter seemed to use his magic as naturally as one would use their limbs.
It was as fluid as it was fierce.
He had to immediately go on the defensive, losing his ability to strike back at Potter as the boy easily threw continuous curses his way.
"I told Draco I wouldn't hurt you, do you want to surrender?" Potter jeered.
"Malfoy's do not surrender," he said stiffly, both insulted and exasperated. He was losing a duel to a twelve year old child. It was mortifying.
"Sorry Draco," Potter called over his shoulder to his son, who Lucius is sure he heard groan.
Before Lucius could blink more than twice his glimmering shield suddenly froze to a corporeal block of ice, melted to the floor, and he was stunned in place.
"The Contessa is a genius," Potter breathed, apropos of nothing, before dancing up to him, graceful and deadly, and easily pulling both wands from his hands.
"You got off lucky," he said softly, with a hard glint in his eyes. "Usually I don't consider a duel over until someone bleeds."
Lucius was momentarily relieved to be stunned, as neither boy could witness his shiver of unease at Potter's words. The tone of voice, coupled with the grizzly facial scaring, all coming from an undersized child, made for an impressive display.
"How on Earth did you accomplish such ease in commanding your magic?" Lucius asked him once Potter released him and retuned his wand.
The boy gave him a small grin and a modest shrug. "I always knew I was special, I just didn't know it was magic I could do, did I?"
Lucius doubted whether there had even been a wizard alive who mastered silent and wandless magic at such an age.
Special indeed.
Potter also seemed heavily interested in politics. They spent a few memorable evenings in Lucius' office discussing the best way to build political alliances.
"It's about who you can reasonably assist in the future when they call on you for a favor," Lucius instructed him. "If you ally yourself solely with light or dark oriented families, then you will find yourself involved in dark or light activities."
"What about neutral families?" Potter asked.
"There are very few officially declared neutral families. A true party of neutrality remains outside of all dark and light conflicts."
Potter hummed for a moment, considering, as he paced in front of the wall of weaponry that Lucius decorated his office with. "What about a grey party? Wouldn't that make a third side in any conflicts? Then you could fight for your beliefs but you wouldn't have to stick to a specific angle."
Lucius inclined his head at Potters train of thought. "It would be possible to have a grey alliance if there were enough interested candidates. As of now, the Wixen world is strictly divided by light and dark."
"What if I want to build allies but I don't want to owe any favors?" Potter mused, changing the subject now that he was apparently pleased with Lucius' response. "How do I do that?"
"You cannot be an ally of equality if you expect them to assist you without you assisting them," he told him.
"Then, hypothetically of course, how did Voldemort and Dumbledore do it?" The child asked, carefully stroking Lucius' goblin wrought sword on the wall. "I doubt they ran around doing favors for the people who fought for their side in the war."
"They did not have allies," he stressed. "They had followers."
His intrigue in Potter became tenfold at the sharp smile the boy sent him.
"Followers, got it."
***POV SWAP***
Severus was not altogether surprised to be called over for a drink by Lucius during Potter's stay at the manor. The child had wrote a few letters to him describing his stay with the Zabini's and his current placement at Malfoy Manor. Apparently Lucius, confident man that he is, had challenged Potter to a duel and Potter employed a 'brill new tactic Blaise's Mum' taught him and disarmed him.
Severus hoped Potter would share the memory with him at some point.
"Severus, please, have a seat," Lucius greeted him upon his arrival.
"Lucius," he nodded to him. "I trust your summer is going well?"
Lucius gave a short chuckle, aloof and cordial, "It is certainly interesting," he allowed.
Severus imagined that having Potter as a houseguest would be a rather interesting experience.
"The boys are behaving themselves?" He asked, accepting the offered glass of whiskey.
"They are. I believe they are currently practicing for Quidditch tryouts now."
Severus should have known that if James Potters love of the sport had not been passed on to Potter that Draco would convince him regardless.
"Wonderful," he said drily. "I'm sure that Draco and Potter will certainly be favorable additions to our team."
Lucius gave him an amused look and hummed noncommittally.
The two men sat in a comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. Severus patiently waiting for Lucius to bring up the true reason he invited him over so abruptly. While it wasn't unusual for Severus to floo over and share dinner and drinks with the Malfoy's, it was different to be firecalled and invited on the same evening.
"Severus, I wonder who your true alliance is with?" Lucius eventually asked, after refilling their glasses.
Severus stared in to his whiskey, swirling it around his glass. "I wonder why you would ask me that," he said evenly.
"Hmm, and if I told you that I may have a few items that link me to the old days that I may now wish to be rid of, what would you suggest?"
Trying to have a subtle conversation with a politician such as Lucius was as convoluted as attempting to combine multiple potions for a singular outcome. One wrong step and you may find yourself fatally injured.
"I would suggest if you wish to find solace with a new ally, that you rid yourself of ties to the past," Severus said slowly, measuring his response. "I would further suggest that if I was incorrect in my assumptions of your intentions that you do not speak of this."
"And if you are not incorrect in your assumptions?" Lucius asked with a single blonde brow raised. "If you were correct that I may wish to sever ties to the past, would you tell me where your loyalty lies?"
Severus stared at Lucius, his brother in all but blood, and hoped that a future on the same side was possible once again.
"My loyalty lies solely with the foolish child currently zooming around your pitch," he said carefully, not explicitly identifying Potter in case this conversation is later viewed by another. "He seems to be intent upon creating his own side. Though, if this answer displeases you, or anyone you choose to report it to, I invite you to either duel me or accept an obliviate now."
Lucius smirked at his friend "No need for dramatics my friend," he said before raising his glass. "I propose we toast to the soon to be formed Grey Alliance."
As Severus tilted his glass towards Lucius with a smirk of his own, Lucius considered a small black diary that he needed to find a new home for...
***POV SWAP***
"Boys, meet us at Flourish and Blotts in two hours, alright?" Narcissa asked them.
"Yes Mother," Draco responded obediently. "Come on Harry, let's get our supplies quick so we can see if we can find Weasley and Granger."
Harry grinned at Draco's enthusiasm. Ron had written and said his family, plus Hermione, would be visiting Diagon Alley today as well and suggested they met up. First though, Harry had something to knock off his to do list.
"I need to go to Gringotts," he whispered after making sure the other shoppers were out of earshot. "I've got something to put in my account, don't I?"
Draco furrowed his brows, deep in thought, before suddenly perking up. "You have it with you?" he hissed. "Merlin Harry, you're mad!"
Harry gave him a crooked grin and briefly held up the stone he had retrieved from his warded trunk that morning. "Safest place in the world is Gringotts, right? Much better than Hogwarts anyway," he laughed.
Draco glanced around, probably worried about eavesdroppers, before groaning. "Well come on then, let's go deposit it before something horrible happens."
Harry smirked at Draco's theatrics and fell in step beside him easily. "What kind of horrible thing do you think I could make happen?" He asked him curiously.
Draco just glared at him, "Knowing you? Probably a tornado full of inferi or a hailstorm the size of quaffles."
Harry thought it over. "A tornado full of inferi would be rather handy though, wouldn't it? But where would I keep it when I didn't need it?"
Draco just groaned and refused to discuss the possibilities with him. Apparently, he 'didn't need help for any of his mad ideas'.
Rude.
They entered Gringotts and Harry gave a sharp smile to the Goblin at the counter.
"Griphook," he said, nodding his head respectfully. "I need to visit my vault."
Harry heard Draco's gasp of surprise when Griphook bowed his head back in a show of respect.
Maybe if other Wixen treated Goblins like people and not servants they'd see more displays like this, Harry thought irritably to himself.
One step in changing the world at a time though.
"Is your charmed coin purse not to Heir Potter's liking?" Griphook asked curiously.
Harry shook his head quickly, thankful for the easy to use bag the Goblin gave him last summer. "No it's brilliant, thank you again. I just need to make a deposit."
"Apologies, Heir Potter. I simply need to see your proof of identity and then you can make your deposit."
Harry raised his right hand and focused his magic on it, remove the cloak. Draco, bloody Drama Queen he is, gasped again as his Heir ring shimmered in to sight.
"How did you get that?" He asked. "Father says I can't get mine until I'm of age."
"My parents are dead, aren't they?" Harry said casually, ignoring the sharp stab of grief he had at the words. "You can claim your Heirship if you're of age and your Lord is still alive or you can get it early if you're the only Heir in line for the Lordship once you take a blood test."
"Heir Potter is correct," Griphook said, inspecting the magical ring on Harry's right hand. "An Heir ring will not accept a wearer if they are not yet of age unless they are the sole Heir left in the line." He gave a curt nod at Harry's hand. "That is in order Heir Potter, would you like to visit the vault or allow me to make the deposit for you?"
"Oh, would you?" Harry asked, recloaking the ring. "That would be brill Griphook, thank you."
He pulled the stone out of his pocket and wrapped it in Griphooks hand. "I don't think I need to tell you that I'd rather nobody know I have ever been in possession of it," he whispered.
Griphook glanced at his hand then gave Harry a sharp and mean smile. "Heir Potter is very clever and sneaky," he said softly in his gravely voice. "This will be in the Potter vault and if anyone learns of its presence I will present myself to you to be drawn and quartered."
"That's not necessary," Harry said hastily. "Just put it in my vault please, no need for any quartering."
Griphook had proved last summer that he was a good vault manager, Harry would hate to replace him.
"As you wish," Griphook bowed his head again. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Nope," Harry said pleasantly. "Just that one little thing. May your gold multiply Griphook."
"And may your enemies cower at your feet, Heir Potter," Griphook responded cordially.
"They will," Harry winked at him.
As the boys left the bank Draco gave Harry an incredulous look. "How on earth did you get the Goblin to respect you?"
Harry rolled his eyes at Draco and crossed his arms in irritation.
"Well it's not hard, is it? I just respected them first," he sneered. "You know, easy things, like calling them by their proper names instead of 'Goblin'. Griphook is just as magical as we are."
Draco seemed to not have a response to that aside from staring at Harry in shock.
"C'mon," Harry said, dropping the subject. "We better get started if you want time to find Ron and Hermione."
The boys ran around the alley, gathering their supplies and trying to dodge the Harry Potter fanatics they encountered.
Draco laughed himself to tears as Harry bald faced told a man that he was not Harry Potter but was instead "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy".
"You don't look much like a Malfoy," the man said eyeing Harry closely.
"How dare you," Harry stuck his nose up in the air, "I will be telling my father about this."
"You're such a prat," Draco laughed.
Harry grinned and from then on they made a game of Harry stealing the identities of their classmates every time he was accosted.
"What's going on there?" Draco asked, pointing to the crowded bookstore.
"Dunno," Harry answered. "But I think I see Ron's family in there." He pointed to a group of redheads and Draco grimaced, "Let's go then, we have to get those ridiculous Lockhart books anyway."
"Weasley, Granger!" Draco called, waving at their friends. "What in Merlins name is going on in there?"
Hermione squealed in excitement and pointed at a sign that said;
'GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography
MAGICAL ME
today 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.'
"Wonderful," Draco groaned.
Ron introduced them to the rest of his family, at least the ones Harry hadn't met before.
"This is my Dad, Arthur, and my Mum, Molly, and my sister, Ginny, she's starting school with us this year."
"Hello," Harry said to them. "Thank you for the fudge Mrs. Weasley."
Ron's mum, a plump witch with wild curly red hair, stepped towards him with her arms outstretched- as if to grab him and squeeze.
"Oh, Harry dear," she sighed, not remarking on his quick dance out of her reach, "it was no worry! I was so happy to do something nice for Ron's friend." She beamed at Harry and he gave her a nervous smile back, though he was saved from replying when Ron's sister, Ginny, squealed at him and turned bright red.
What the fuck?
Ron laughed and told Harry and Draco quietly, "Ginny's obsessed with you. Talks about you all the time."
Draco sniggered while Harry grimaced at Ron. The last thing he needed was more insane people staring at his forehead.
"Hope she's not in Slytherin," Harry muttered darkly.
Ron chuckled and led the other three inside, pushing and shoving his way past the crowd.
A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to wait their turn to grab the Lockhart books and pay.
Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.
A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.
"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Harry, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the Daily Prophet —"
"Fuck off," Harry said, glaring at the photographer fiercely.
Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"
"It's not, it's Neville Longbottom," Harry tried protesting, although nobody besides Draco seemed to hear him.
The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front.
"Get your hands off me," Harry sneered, sending a spark of blistering magic to Lockharts arm.
Lockhart let go quickly, hissing between his straight white teeth, before shaking his hand out and putting his arm behind Harry, without actually touching him again.
"Nice big smile, Harry," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth as the photographer clicked away. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."
Harry tried to slip back to Ron, Draco, and Hermione but Lockhart pulled him back to his side by his shirt collar.
"You've got half a second to let go before I put you in the hospital," Harry hissed.
Lockhart gave him a bewildered look but quickly let go of his shirt. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet.
"What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge —" The crowd applauded again. "He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room where he saw his friends waiting.
"Bet you loved that Neville," Draco laughed.
"You alright there Harry?" Ron asked. "What'd you do to Lockhart to get him to let go of you, huh? Cut him?"
Harry shook his head, "Blistered. He's a prat."
Hermione glared at him, unimpressed by his assessment. "I think he's wonderful," she said.
"Then you can have these useless fuckin' books," Harry said, offering his stack of books.
"Oh," Hermione blushed a little. "I already bought mine, thank you though."
"Well here then, Ginny, you can have them."
Harry tipped his stack of books in to the young girls cauldron.
"Th-th-thank you," Ginny stammered, staring at Harry with a star filled look.
"Don't mention it," Harry murmured, uncomfortable with her gaze.
"Children- there you are!" Ron's Dad called, walking up to their group. "Do you all have your books? Excellent, let's-"
Ron's dads suggestion was cut off by the arrival of Draco's father.
"Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley."
"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.
"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr. Malfoy. "All those raids... I hope they're paying you overtime?"
He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.
"Obviously not," Mr. Malfoy said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"
"Merlin," Draco sighed softly. "This won't be good."
Harry looked at Ron and saw his ears were a bright shade of red- clearly an impending sign of an argument.
"Mister Malfoy," Harry interrupted, "Draco and I finished our shopping."
Malfoy seemed momentarily startled to see Harry and Draco standing there beside Ron.
"Here, girl, since it's the best your father can afford for you." Mr Malfoy dropped Ginny's book back in to her cauldron. "Boys, come along, I believe Narcissa is waiting for us to join her for lunch."
Harry and Draco wished a hasty farewell to Ron and Hermione before following Draco's father out of the store.
"Thanks Harry," Draco murmured.
"No problem," Harry assured him.
On his last night at Malfoy Manor Draco decided that they were going to have "a real life sleepover." Which apparently meant that they needed to drag Harry's bedclothes in to Draco's room and create a pallet on the floor to sleep on.
Harry, who had slept on many floors before in his life, wasn't sure how it was meant to be fun. Although he could admit that Draco's plushly carpeted floor was just as comfortable as most beds were.
Draco also had Dobby bring up more snacks and treats than the two of them could ever eat.
Harry laughed as the odd little elf did his usual dance in front of him muttering about Harry's supposed 'greatness'.
The elf was weird as hell but Harry liked how much it always wanted to help him.
"I had another birthday present for you," Draco said quietly as they were sharing a bowl of chocolate digestives. Harry was about to protest when Draco cut him off, "I found out why Voldemort went after your family."
Harry sat up and stared hard at Draco. "Seriously? Brill. How'd you find out? No wait, what'd you find out?"
Draco shifted around and gave Harry a guilty look. "I asked my Father, he was part of Voldemort's inner circle at the time." Harry just nodded impatiently, he already knew Malfoy had been on Voldemort's side.
"He said there was a prophecy," Draco continued hesitantly. "All they knew it said was; 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies'. Supposedly there was more but the spy didn't get to hear it. Some seer told it to Dumbledore though, so he knows the rest."
Harry rolled over to his back and stared up at Draco's ceiling, thinking it over.
Voldemort and Dumbledore must be fucking idiots.
"Harry?" Draco called quietly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he said shortly. "Just thinking."
"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I didn't mean to ruin our sleepover."
"You didn't," Harry quickly assured him. "I'm glad you told me. It's just... how often do prophecies come true? Did I already fulfill it that night my parents died? Am I really the only kid born at the end of July to parents who defied him at least three times? Why did Voldemort take it so seriously?"
Draco grimaced, scrunching his nose up in thought. "I don't know, I don't know much about divination. Uncle Sev says it's a crock subject. But my mother's family, the Blacks, took it very seriously. I suppose Voldemort did as well?"
Harry hummed, still considering. "I need to hear the whole thing," he decided. "Dumbledore won't tell me, I'm sure of it. I wonder if your Dad knows who the spy was? They would probably know who the seer was, right? Then I could get it from them."
"Or," Draco drawled, dragging out the word. "You could go to the Hall of Prophecies in the Ministry and simply request the recording of it."
Harry stared at him until his bewildered stare became a smile. "You're a genius," he breathed. "I can just walk in and ask for it?"
Draco blushed faintly at Harry's praise and nodded. "That's what my father said. You'd just need an escort to get in the Ministry then you go down to the Hall of Prophecies and you give a drop of blood and they'll let you take any prophecy linked to your magic."
"Draco..." Harry said, thinking quickly. "Is the DMLE in the Ministry?"
Draco said it was and Harry rolled back on to his back. "Brill."
The rest of their night was spent playing five-card draw poker, a muggle game Harry was teaching Draco.
When Draco finally passed out in exhaustion, much later than they usually fell asleep, Harry laid awake and made plans.
Draco seemed dejected the next morning as Harry gathered his belongings.
Which, thanks to Narcissa's obsession with shopping, seem to have multiplied many times over in the last fortnight.
"You could just stay here until term starts," Draco offered for about the tenth time that morning.
"I told Susan I'd go to her house and I am, quit pestering me," Harry snapped, annoyed by the pouting.
"Fine," Draco grumbled. "But you should come back next summer."
Harry evaded giving him a straight answer, not wanting to dedicate himself to set plans.
"I would be more than happy to continue our debates over owl post," Mister Malfoy offered along with his hand as Harry and Draco entered the parlor.
Harry shook his hand and agreed to carry on a correspondence during the school year. Draco's dad knew quite a bit about politics and Harry was hopeful that maybe he could continue using logic to chip away at his pureblood bullshit ideals.
"We will miss you terribly darling," Narcissa said, hugging Harry tightly, something he had forced himself to endure from the woman the last couple weeks. "Please write and let us know if there is anything we can do for you. Or simply just write and tell me about your courses and your classmates?"
Harry shrugged and danced around an answer. He liked Narcissa quite a bit, she was warm and friendly and kind, but he hated writing letters.
Letters discussing politics and the rights of all Wixen? That was a logical reason to write letters. Telling Draco's mum how his day was? Not so much.
"I'll see you on the train, right? We can sit together again?" Draco wheedled.
"Yes Draco, I will see you on the train," Harry laughed with a roll of his eyes.
"Good luck Harry Potter," Mister Malfoy said as Harry prepared to grab the portkey. "Do your best to irritate Severus as often as possible."
Harry laughed and flashed the three Malfoy's an amused smile as he spun away from their parlor.