Fic: Catch Me If I Fall (1/2)
Jun. 12th, 2008 12:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneI'm finally taking the time to repost my HD Worldcup fic. :)
Title: Catch Me If I Fall
Author:![[insanejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/ij-userinfo.gif)
alisanne
Team: Team EWE
Prompt: The Fool
Wordcount: 15800
Rating: R
Warnings: None.
Summary: As the world recovers from war, Draco faces an uncertain future. Unusual advice sets him on a new path, but only time will tell if he can avoid the pitfalls.
Author’s Note Thanks to the members of Team EWE, to my beta reader,sevfan and shiv5468, and to our dear captain, sansa1970, without whose unfailing cheerleading and support this story would not have been possible.
~
Catch Me If I Fall
~
If he squinted, he could see all the way to the end of Knockturn Alley, Draco realized. There was a shop there, a shabby place with a faded sign featuring a man standing next to a sheep. Who knew what they sold? Draco shook his head, unable to remember having noticed the place before, but that wasn’t too surprising. When he’d been visiting Borgin and Burkes regularly, he’d been too focussed on his grisly assigned task to pay the surrounding shops any mind. Now though, he had time, too much time, on his hands. Now he noticed such things.
He sighed, not sure why he had returned to this dismal place. Distracted, deep in thought, with no specific destination in mind, his feet had brought him here, to the most dangerous street known to wizardingkind. He would have to watch that.
His mother had begged him not to leave the house but not because she was concerned for him, well, not much. No. More because she wanted him in her sight all the time. After the year they’d had, it was understandable, he supposed, but it was also smothering.
He snorted softly. Just because his father had retreated from the world didn’t mean he was to be Lucius’ replacement! Surely his mother could see that? He had his own life to pursue.
And the first thing will be to clear the Malfoy name, he thought grimly. It had got to the point where he had to keep his hair covered in public. Very few wizards his age had hair this colour after all, and having one’s picture splashed across the front pages of countless newspapers was not conducive to anonymity. Hardly anyone was unaware of who he was anymore. And to think he used to envy Potter.
It was getting dark and it occurred to Draco that he needed to be alert. He ducked his head as a couple of wizards walked towards him. When neither one seemed to pay him any mind, he relaxed slightly, relieved. There had been incidents involving ex-Death Eaters lately. Several had been assaulted while out and not one person had lifted a wand to help them. He doubted anyone would help here should someone discover who he was.
Draco hurried quickly past his old haunt. The place had been shut down by the Ministry anyway, the dark windows now lifeless, although he still had the eerie feeling of being watched as he walked past.
Someone shouted at the end of the alley and Draco turned to look, his hood falling off his head with the quick motion. The two wizards who had passed him were staring straight at him, and Draco saw it the moment he was recognized.
It was as he was scanning further down the alley for an escape that he saw it. ‘Mirabella’s Tarot Readings’, the sign declared in faded pink, and in smaller script it said ‘moste accurate predictions for your future’.
One of the wizards had started towards him, an unpleasant look on his face. Draco strolled purposefully towards Mirabella’s. He could at least look as if he had an appointment or something.
The wizard was coming up fast, and just as Draco raised his hand to knock, the door opened and a gnarled hand pulled him through.
“Oi!” came the cry from outside as the door was shut in the wizard’s face. Distant cursing followed and then finally faded.
Draco looked at his rescuer carefully, but the hallway was dark and he could barely make out their face. “Thank you. How did you know--?”
“Welcome, seeker.” As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the hallway, he could see an old woman looking up at him, her beady black eyes dancing with some unnamed emotion. “You are right on time. Come this way.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talk--”
She brushed past him mid-sentence, walking towards a room further down the hall. He could see a brighter light coming from it. He hesitated.
“Go or stay, child.” The woman’s voice drifted back to him. “But know that those men shall not relinquish their prey so easily.”
Draco glanced once more at the door. She was right, of course. He hardly had a choice. With a sigh, he trailed after her, walking into a busily decorated room where clashing florals warred with stripes and animal prints. In the centre was a table with two shabby chairs pulled up to it. A deck of cards was laid out in a fan shape.
“Sit,” the old woman rasped, pointing at one of the chairs. “I’ll do a reading for you.”
“I don’t believe in that rot,” Draco said. “Look, if you have a back way out, I’ll just--”
“Sit!”
Draco sat, blinking as the woman sat across from him and, after shuffling her cards, said, “So, seeker, shall we see what the cards hold for you?”
“I suppose,” he said dryly. It appeared he had no choice. He rolled his eyes.
“You may ask your question,” she said.
“I don’t have any questions for you other than, how can I get out of the position I’m now in?”
She inclined her head. “A good question, young seeker, to be answered by a simple reading I think.”
He shrugged and sighed. “As you wish, then. Once you’re done you’ll show me the way out, yeah?”
She smiled, her gap-toothed grin somehow unnerving him. Letting her hand hover over the cards for a moment, she picked one out and turned it over. “Ah, the Upright Fool. Of course.”
Glancing down at the card, Draco saw a young man, a gaudy fool’s hat on his head, carrying a stick with a rag tied to the end. His eyes widened. “I am no one’s fool, madam,” he said coolly, getting to his feet, “Now if this nonsense is over...”
He gasped as she grabbed his arm, her grip deceptively strong for a bent old woman. “You are at the beginning of your new life,” she whispered. “Expect the unexpected and trust that all shall be well. You’ll have important decisions to make, follow your instincts and you shall make the right choices. You cannot run from your past, but you can use past experiences to make a new and better future.”
Pulling away, Draco glared at her. “If you keep this up I’m going to take my chance with those men,” he said, nodding towards the door through which he’d entered.
She shook her head. “This way,” she said, leading him out of the room. “You’ll be able to slip away to safe Apparating distance through the back.”
The tiny alley smelt of horrid, dead things, but Draco was still glad to be out of the claustrophobic room and away from her piercing eyes. He turned to look once more at his unlikely rescuer. Realizing he owed her a debt, he slipped his hand into his robes, and, pulling out a coin, handed it to her. “Thanks.”
She accepted the money and smiled that gap-toothed smile again. “Blessed be. And remember, you can do anything, just watch your step, lest in your eagerness, you trip, young seeker. And do not refuse help when offered.”
Draco sneered and turned away, promptly tripping over a box to fall flat on his face.
Her peals of laughter made him flush with embarrassment, but by the time he was up and had turned to glare at her, she was gone, the alleyway deserted. It was fully dark now and, shivering, he wrapped his robes more tightly around himself and hurried home.
~
“But why not, Harry?”
Harry sighed. He knew he should be patient with her. She was his best friend’s sister, practically his own sister, really, but this was getting old. “Because we’re in your parents’ house, Ginny!” he hissed, eyes darting towards the stairs up which anyone could walk at any moment.
“Oh, please. They don’t care!” she whispered back. “Trust me, if we walked downstairs hand in hand for dinner, they would be thrilled. They know how I feel about you.”
Harry removed Ginny’s arms from where they had wound around his neck and stepped back. “No, Gin,” he said firmly, wondering, for not the first time, if he should have stayed at Grimmauld Place instead of allowing Ron to talk him into coming to the Burrow. It would have made packing a lot easier, although he imagined Kreacher would be fussing over him about now... He shuddered.
Ginny looked hurt and Harry sighed. “It’s not right. I don’t...” He swallowed hard and decided on honesty. “It’s not fair to you. I’m not ready to commit to anyone and you deserve better. Ron’s right. We can’t keep snogging.”
“What? Why not? I like snogging you.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you seemed committed enough in your sixth year.”
“I...”
“You what? You’ve found someone else to snog, then? Did you meet someone while you off doing whatever you were doing?”
“No!” Harry sighed. “Ginny, I told you all about that. It was just me and Ron and Hermione looking for Horcruxes out there. Who could I have met? We were alone.”
“So you said.” She sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes searching his face. “It’s all the pressure, isn’t it?” she asked finally.
“The...?”
“Everyone’s expecting you to go back to Hogwarts, settle down, marry... someone, have children, be an Auror, but no one’s asked you what you want to do.” She pushed away from the wall and moved closer. “So what do you want to do?”
Harry stared at her. “I... I don’t...” His mouth snapped closed.
Ginny smiled. “You don’t actually know, do you?” she asked gently.
He flushed. “I’ll decide,” he said a tad defensively. “Eventually. I am going back to school, though. That much I know.”
She nodded. “That’s a start, I’d just hoped... I really could help with the rest of those decisions, Harry.”
“Yeah, it’s just that this is the first time I’ve been able to decide things for myself, you know?” Harry said, realizing at that moment that it was true. “All along it’s been someone else deciding things. Voldemort, my relatives, Dumbledore... Now that it really is up to me, I’d sort of like to make up my own mind about my future.”
To Harry’s relief, she smiled and patted his arm. “I understand, Harry. And you do know that no matter what you decide, you’ll always have me, don’t you?”
Harry grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Gin,” he whispered into her hair. “I dunno what I’d do if I lost your friendship.”
She simply clasped him tighter. “It’ll never happen,” she murmured. “No matter what, we’ll always be friends.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“She really is,” a new voice said.
They sprang apart, Harry peering into the shadows darkening the stairs to see Hermione and Ron standing there. Ron was shaking his head.
“You two really need to stop doing that,” he said, pushing past. “If Mum sees you she’ll have the wedding planned before you can say ball and chain.”
Ginny giggled and leaned away from Harry. “True, which is why she’ll never catch us,” she said breezily as she walked down the stairs.
Harry shared a look with Ron and Hermione before following. Given Molly’s temper, they all hoped she was right.
~
“But why, darling? Why would you go back there?”
Draco sighed. He had anticipated resistance from his father about returning to Hogwarts, but not his mother. “Mother, I have to.”
“I know last year wasn’t ideal,” she said, and Draco bit back the urge to laugh at that bit of understatement. “But what else can they possibly teach you?”
“All the things I didn’t learn last year.” Draco stirred his tea and stared out the window. Bloody peacocks were squawking again and giving him a headache.
“If you must go back to school, I think there are better choices. Or perhaps we could hire a private tutor...”
“Leave him alone, Narcissa. It’s his decision.”
Two sets of eyes turned to stare at Lucius, but he didn’t return the favour. He was too busy pouring himself a Firewhisky.
“Lucius, do you really think you ought to have that for breakfast?” Narcissa wrung a napkin in her hands as she spoke. Draco’s eyes were caught by her unusually rough fingernails.
“Indeed, Narcissa, I am doing my best not to think, thank you. I would ask Severus to make me some Dreamless Sleep, but alas, he’s gone! Is it not enough that the Dark Lord took everything? My friends, my reputation, my home, even my wand fell to his greed! Am I no longer the master of even my own body in my own home?”
Narcissa’s lips compressed in a thin line as he strolled towards the door. “Lucius, I didn’t mean--”
“If Draco wants to return to Hogwarts, he can,” Lucius interrupted. “He’s a grown wizard, he can make that decision. And he’ll need an education to make his way in the world.”
“You expect him to have to work?”
Draco rubbed his temples as staccato bursts of conversation exploded around him. He wasn’t sure he could articulate exactly why he wanted another chance at Hogwarts, only that he did. All he knew was that with the war over and all his family’s many machinations having come to naught, he needed a new start, they all did, and this was the first step.
“If he must return to school, Beauxbatons would be perfect,” Draco heard his mother say. “I always hoped he’d go there anyway...”
“He doesn’t need to learn magical embroidery!”
Draco rolled his eyes discreetly. He wondered if the Board of Governors would even allow him to return to Hogwarts in the first place. It was being reported that the previous year of school was being discounted and that students, especially seventh-years, were being offered the chance to repeat the year. But did that include people who had been a part of the ‘hostile takeover’?
“It’s a perfectly good institution,” Narcissa was saying. “He would do well there. He speaks perfect French.”
“It would be seen as cowardly,” Lucius snapped.
Draco blinked. Yes, it would. He imagined all the Gryffindors would be returning to wallow in their superiority and their victory, including Potter. Draco licked his lips. Oddly enough, he hoped Potter would be there. Potter always made him strive to do better, put forth his best effort. If they both ended up at Hogwarts again, he thought that would be the same, too.
“Durmstrang?” Narcissa said. “I suppose we could see if they would consider--”
“I don’t want to go there,” Draco said. “Hogwarts, Mother.”
Narcissa threw up her hands. “I want it known that I do not agree with this,” she said. Standing, she sailed out of the room.
Draco sighed and took a sip of his cool tea. Perhaps this was all a pipe dream, perhaps he needn’t worry about any of it. Letters would undoubtedly be going out in a few days. It was possible he wouldn’t get one.
“If you want to return, I can make sure it happens,” Lucius said quietly.
Startled, Draco looked up at him, watching as Lucius drained his glass of the fiery amber liquor. “Yes,” he finally whispered. “I want to go.”
Lucius nodded and walked out.
If nothing else it’ll get me away from these bloody peacocks, Draco thought.
~
Packing turned out to be more difficult than he had anticipated. A day after his father had promised his help, Draco’s Hogwarts letter arrived. Unfortunately, it had arrived in the middle of dinner, and his mother had used it as an excuse to wax eloquently about what a mistake it was. Since his father no longer attended dinner, Draco had borne the brunt of that discussion, and now he was in an unenviable position between his feuding parents. His mother, an old hand at persuasion, used every trick in her formidable arsenal.
“Honestly, darling,” she would say every morning as the time drew closer for him to return to school. “The pace of life in Europe is just so much more civilized. The food is better, the fashion, not to mention the marriage prospects. You would be much happier there. It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Marriage prospects? No respectable English wizarding families would talk to them now and she imagined it would be better in Europe? “I am not going to Europe, Mother,” he’d say.
“Perhaps America, then?”
The first time she’d said that, Lucius had snorted and speared Narcissa with a glance but hadn’t said a word, retiring to his study moments later. His mother never mentioned it in his father’s presence again, although she did bring it up as often as possible when they were out of Lucius’ earshot.
Resigned to her nagging, Draco would nod but say nothing, just go to his room to supervise the elves and plan his year. It didn’t take him long to see that it would require a lot of planning.
Not only was the Malfoy name not what it had been, but he would be one of probably very few Slytherin seventh-year students returning. Pansy certainly wouldn’t be, not after her display during the Battle of Hogwarts as it was now being called.
He shook his head. He would definitely need new friends, especially as his old ones were either dead or as good as.
“Fucking idiots,” he muttered, sparing a thought for his old sidekicks. “So much for Slytherins being clever and secretive.”
It was up to him to redeem their house it seemed, and to do that, he needed supplies and a plan.
~
It was a busy day in Diagon Alley, what with people bustling about. Many Hogwarts students could be seen flitting in and out of shops carrying books, robes, sweets...
“So we’ll see you in Flourish and Blotts in thirty minutes, yeah?” Ron had stopped a few feet short of Madam Malkin’s, much to the chagrin of the people trying to walk around him.
“Unless you want to come in with me to try robes on,” Harry said, grinning.
Ron made a face. “No thanks, mate. Given that choice, I’d rather go look at books with Hermione.” Dodging her playful swat, he continued. “I will go to the Quidditch shop with you later, though.”
“I imagine Ginny will want to go there, too,” Hermione added.
“Speaking of, where is she now?” Harry asked, looking around.
“She said something about shopping with Luna,” Ron said. “I can only imagine where they are.”
Harry smiled. Knowing Luna, they were probably off looking at vegetables to make into jewellry or something. “Right, well, I’m going in,” he said, looking up at the brightly displayed robes in the window.
“You don’t have to get new clothes you know, Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if anyone cares.”
“I care,” Harry said softly. “It’s time I dressed like a real wizard. I’m turning over a new leaf, it’s a new year, and I no longer have to rely on Dudley’s awful hand-me-downs.”
Hermione smiled. “I know,” she said, patting his arm. “Do you want me to come with you? I can put off shopping for books--”
“No. You’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Go on. I’ll see you there a bit later.” Harry squared his shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”
“Right! See you later, then,” Ron called back as he dragged Hermione along.
Harry chuckled as they walked away. Glancing around Diagon Alley once more, he sighed. This was the first time he was relaxed enough to appreciate the sights and sounds of the place, the first time he didn’t have to worry about being under attack. The first time he didn’t have to do anything but look forward to a year of learning about magic. It was a heady feeling.
The shop looked busy to him when he pushed inside; he was a bit surprised to see so many people being fitted for robes. Harry stood by the door for a few moments until he was spotted.
“Mr. Potter!”
Madam Malkin herself, beaming, bustled over to shake his hand.
“Hullo. I, um, have an appointment,” Harry began.
“Of course you do, dear. I have a fitting room set aside. Come this way!”
Harry followed her, chewing his bottom lip as he did so. Perhaps Hermione was right, perhaps he didn’t need to...
“Here we are,” she said, gesturing towards a room. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll let one of my seamstresses know you’re here--” She broke off, a cool note entering her voice. “Oh my, there’s someone in here already.”
Harry looked over her shoulder, blinking when he saw Draco Malfoy standing there. “Malfoy?”
Madam Malkin crossed her arms. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “You’ll need to go. We need this room for Mr. Potter.”
Malfoy looked up, and Harry would have sworn a hurt look crossed his face before the cool mask he was used to seeing returned. “I’m afraid I have not completed my fitting yet,” he said. “Potter will just have to wait.”
“Certainly not!” Madam Malkin looked outraged. “He deserves a private room. Mr. Potter is--”
“All the rage,” Malfoy finished dryly. “Yes, I’m aware of his popularity.”
“It’s all right,” Harry interjected, stepping in front of Madam Malkin. “I’m sure Malfoy and I can share this room for our fitting. There’s no need for him to have to leave on my account.”
“That’s generous, Mr. Potter, but there’s no reason you should have to--”
“Really, it’s fine,” Harry insisted. “We attended school together once, we can manage to share a room for a few minutes.”
Madam Malkin looked doubtful, but at Harry’s reassurances she finally nodded. “Very well. I’ll be sure to send someone in immediately. There’s no reason you should have to be in the same room with the likes of--”
“We’ll be fine,” Harry said again, shutting the door in her face. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Malfoy, who was staring at him.
“Are you sure that you can stand to be in the same room with me, Potter? It may soil your reputation.” Malfoy had a smirk on, but Harry could still see some tightness around his eyes. The prior scene had probably upset him.
“I think I’ll manage,” Harry said, walking into the room. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually.”
“Oh?” Malfoy crossed his arms. “What about?”
Taking a deep breath, Harry launched into his explanation. “I owe you and your mother a debt. Either of you could have betrayed me during the war or the last battle and you didn’t. When we got caught and we were at your house, you knew who I was, didn’t you?”
Malfoy nodded slowly. “I did,” he confirmed.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, I thought so. Yet you didn’t let on, even when they kept asking you.”
Malfoy shrugged.
“Did your mother tell you what she did when Voldemort asked if I was dead?” Harry continued.
Malfoy began fiddling with the fold of his robes. “She told me about some of it. I think you more than made up for anything you owe my family by testifying on our behalf before the Wizengamot. If you hadn’t we probably would have been sent to prison.”
“Maybe,” Harry said.
“And if you hadn’t saved Goyle and me from that Fiendfyre...” Malfoy shuddered.
Harry nodded. “Yeah, that’s true, too, I suppose. I just... I feel as if I still owe you and your family, Malfoy. If you ever need anything...”
“What? You’ll use your influence?” Malfoy’s glance was sharp.
“I’d consider it.” Harry held Malfoy’s gaze as two seamstresses walked in followed by Madam Malkin.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter. Shall we finish your fittings?”
They both nodded, and as the seamstress began pinning the fabric around him, Harry found himself cataloguing the changes in the other man. Malfoy seemed different somehow, less combative, more introspective. He certainly wasn’t as insulting as he usually was, and that annoying drawl was gone.
It took Harry a minute to notice that Malfoy, too, was being fitted for Hogwarts robes. “You’re going back to school?” he blurted.
Malfoy’s eyes met his in the mirror. “Well spotted, Potter,” he said. “As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”
“But... but why?” Harry asked. “I mean, you finished school last year, didn’t you?”
Malfoy looked away. “You think we really learned anything? Oh, there were a lot of Unforgivables being cast, but no real spell theory or teaching.”
“And you care about that?”
Malfoy’s eyes went cold. “Believe it or not, Potter, I do care about my education, especially since I’m likely to have to make my own way in the world.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured. “That was thoughtless of me. Um, I was just surprised that you were coming back.”
Malfoy smirked. “Of course I am. After all, someone has to give you a run for your money when it comes to Quidditch,” he said.
Harry laughed. “You can try, Malfoy. You can try.”
“There, you’re done,” Malfoy’s seamstress said, stepping back. “Shall we have them owled to you when they’re completed?”
Malfoy nodded and stepped down from the pedestal he’d been on and pulled his regular robes from the hook. “Yes, thank you.”
As he walked out, he paused and looked back over his shoulder at Harry. “Nice chatting with you, Potter. See you on the train.”
Harry stared after Draco when he left, wondering why he was suddenly looking forward to it.
~
“Well that was exhausting,” Hermione proclaimed, collapsing onto the couch next to Ron.
“I don’t know why we had to buy everything today,” Ron whinged. “There’s a week yet until school starts.”
“Did you see how crazy it was in Diagon Alley? It’ll only get worse before the term begins,” Hermione reminded him. “And your mother wanted us to get things done early, remember?”
Ron rolled his eyes. “I still think we could have done it in shifts. Maybe if we’d divided it into several days we would have had time to look at the Quidditch equipment.”
“If it had been up to you we’d have spent the entire day there,” Hermione said. “And not got any books.”
Ron smiled. “Is there a problem with that?” he teased, dodging her smack. “The Quidditch shop would have been fine with Harry, right?”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Ron shook his head. “You feeling all right, mate?”
“Yeah, just thinking. Did either of you see Malfoy there today?” Harry asked.
Ron raised an eyebrow. “Malfoy? In Diagon Alley? Was he looking for school supplies?” At Harry’s nod Ron whistled. “Why would he have been there? He finished last year.”
“He told me that he’s coming back to Hogwarts,” Harry murmured.
“He what?” Hermione sat straight up. “When did you talk to him?” she asked.
“He was in Madam Malkin’s getting fitted for school robes.”
“Really?” she said, exchanging a look with Ron. “You never said.”
“Sure I did,” Harry replied, settling back into his seat. “I told you when we met up at the book shop.”
“I think I would have remembered that, Harry.”
“Maybe I never got to say,” Harry said thoughtfully. “You were a bit engrossed in the books.”
Hermione blushed. “Right, well tell us now, then,” she said, leaning forward.
Harry shrugged. “We were both being fitted for robes and we had to share a fitting room. He said he was going back to Hogwarts and he seemed, I dunno, different somehow.”
“Different? In what way?”
“Just... I can’t really say, more thoughtful or something.”
“Malfoy? Thoughtful? Right. So worst luck that he was at Madam Malkin’s at the same time as you,” Ron sighed. “Did you hex him?”
“Ron!” Hermione cast a quelling glance at Ron before moving to sit next to Harry. “So, he’s coming back to school? Did you ask him why?”
Harry nodded. “Said he didn’t learn that much last year, what with all the Death Eaters about. I got the impression that he wants to actually learn some things and take his NEWTs.”
“That’s... surprisingly farsighted of him,” Hermione said. “Maybe the war knocked some sense into his head.”
Ron shook his head. “I doubt that. I’ve no doubt he’ll be the same old prat he’s always been. He may be a bit more careful about spouting that pureblood crap in public, though.”
“I don’t know about that,” Harry said. “He seemed sincere enough, and Madam Malkin wasn’t very nice to him.”
“Oh?” Hermione frowned.
“Yeah. She was going to throw him out of the fitting room until I said it was fine for us to share.”
“The name Malfoy clearly doesn’t mean what it used to,” Ron said. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Yeah,” Harry said.
“It would be much worse if not for you. He probably feels grateful for all you’ve done,” Hermione said. “You did testify on his and his mother’s behalf, after all.”
“More than I would have done,” Ron muttered.
“Things could have been much worse if he had actually identified us that night at the Manor, Ron,” Harry reminded him. “It was the least I could do.”
“He probably didn’t know it was us,” Ron insisted. “He was just waiting like everyone else to see what happened.”
“He knew,” Harry said. “I think he knew and he was starting to realize he’d picked the wrong side and he did his best not to give us away, to give us a chance.”
“Yeah, right.” Ron turned away, stood up and began rummaging through the sideboard.
“That could be,” Hermione agreed, moving closer to Harry. “That doesn’t mean he’s entirely trustworthy now, though.” She was staring at him intently as she spoke.
“It may mean he’s probably grown up a bit.” Harry sighed. “Look, I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends or anything, but we can be polite, yeah? Especially since we’ll all be eighth-years together.”
Hermione smiled. “I suppose so,” she said.
“What’s so funny?” Harry asked.
“I think you’ve grown up a bit, too,” she said. “I can’t see you having made that suggestion last year.”
Harry blushed. “Thanks. I think,” he chuckled. “It feels like this year should be a new start, you know?”
She nodded and patted his arm.
“So, Exploding Snap, anyone?” Ron asked, holding up the game. He had chocolate smeared across his lips from a hastily consumed chocolate frog, and in that moment he reminded Harry of the eleven-year-old who had become his first friend.
Hermione shook her head. “At least one of you has,” she murmured, rolling her eyes as she moved to join Ron in the game.
~
“We can find another way to get you to Scotland, you know, dear.” Narcissa spoke in the cool, cultured tones she used when out in public. “I don’t know that the Hogwarts Express is the best way to--”
“I’ll be fine, Mother.” It had taken Draco years to perfect the ability to speak out of the side of his mouth, and he was rather pleased that he was able to pull it off. “I want to take the train.”
Narcissa sighed but didn’t say anything more. Instead she nodded, and after casting a critical look around platform nine and three-quarters she leaned forward and enveloped Draco in a perfumed hug.
“Owl me when you get in,” she whispered. “I’ll send you some Honeydukes dark next week.”
He nodded and let himself relax for a moment in her arms before pulling away. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the train and stepped on board. Something tingled over him, but Draco dismissed it as his imagination.
Searching for an empty car proved difficult, and by the time he managed to find one, the train was already pulling away. He was able to get to the window in time to have a last glimpse of his mother as she stood there and then she was gone, the buildings rushing past the window as he settled into his seat.
He hadn’t seen any of his classmates in the other compartments he had passed, but that hadn’t been particularly surprising. What was surprising was that no tried to come and share the compartment with him.
Shrugging, Draco chalked it up to good luck and spent the majority of the trip staring out the window and thinking.
A prefect came by mid-way through the ride, but when she stuck her head inside she looked straight through him and after a moment kept going without a word. Draco sighed. It looked as if it was going to be a lonely year.
Luckily he didn’t happen across Potter or his friends on the trip; Draco wasn’t sure he could have managed to remain calm in that situation, although his last meeting with Potter hadn’t been too bad.
When the train pulled in to Hogsmeade, Draco was ready to disembark, although he did wait for a while to allow everyone else off. As he stepped off the train into the cool night air, however, he shivered a bit, then he realized his strategy hadn’t worked quite the way he’d planned.
“Malfoy.”
Potter and his two faithful sidekicks were there; apparently they had been waiting for him. Great.
“Potter. Weasley. Granger.”
“Looks like you were serious about returning.”
Draco smirked. “Were you hoping I’d been joking? Sorry to disappoint you, Potter, but yes, I was serious.”
“No, I just--” Potter sighed and started again. “I didn’t see you on the train, and I went looking, so I wondered if you’d changed your mind.”
“I was there,” Draco said thoughtfully. “I had a car to myself.”
Granger was staring at him. “Do you have a spell on you?” she asked. “You look a bit blurry around the edges.”
Draco blinked. “Not that I--” He paused as he remembered the tingly feeling from earlier. “Finite Incantatem.”
Granger nodded. “Yes, you look normal now.”
Draco ducked his head. His mother, bless her, had evidently cast a Notice-Me-Not Spell on him, just enough to give him a few hours of peace before the deluge of questions started.
“Right, well, if that’s all I’ll be going up to the school now--” He paused, staring at the creatures attached to what he’d previously assumed were horseless carriages. “What are they?”
“They’re Thestrals,” Potter said. “Guess it’s the first time you’ve seen them?”
Draco nodded slowly. Was that big one looking at him?
“You didn’t see them last year?” Granger asked.
Draco shrugged. “The Dark Lord did away with the carriages last year,” he said. “He said we should all be able to Apparate to the gates and walk in under our own speed. The underage ones had to be Side-Along-Apparated by pureblood relatives.”
“I see.” Granger walked past him. “Well, unless you want to walk to school, you’ll get in a carriage.”
“Does he have to get in our carriage?” Weasley stage-whispered.
“Ron!”
Draco could feel his face heating. “I can wait for another,” he said stiffly, wrapping arms around his torso.
To his surprise, both Potter and Granger objected to that.
“You’re welcome to come with us,” Potter insisted while Granger whispered furiously with Weasley.
Draco considered this. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, all right,” he said, walking towards the carriage. “Let’s go, then.”
Granger was already in the vehicle, Weasley sitting next to her and staring at Draco as if daring him to come near. With a sigh, Draco stepped up into the carriage and almost missed.
“Watch your step,” Potter said behind him.
Draco froze, something in Potter’s voice reminding him inexplicably of the Seer who had done his Tarot reading weeks before. She had told him to watch his step, too...
The buggy lurched and Potter fell against him for a moment before righting himself. Draco sat very still on the way up to Hogwarts, wondering why he was no longer cold.
~ Continued in Part Two
Title: Catch Me If I Fall
Author:
alisanneTeam: Team EWE
Prompt: The Fool
Wordcount: 15800
Rating: R
Warnings: None.
Summary: As the world recovers from war, Draco faces an uncertain future. Unusual advice sets him on a new path, but only time will tell if he can avoid the pitfalls.
Author’s Note Thanks to the members of Team EWE, to my beta reader,
sevfan and shiv5468, and to our dear captain, sansa1970, without whose unfailing cheerleading and support this story would not have been possible. ~
Catch Me If I Fall
~
If he squinted, he could see all the way to the end of Knockturn Alley, Draco realized. There was a shop there, a shabby place with a faded sign featuring a man standing next to a sheep. Who knew what they sold? Draco shook his head, unable to remember having noticed the place before, but that wasn’t too surprising. When he’d been visiting Borgin and Burkes regularly, he’d been too focussed on his grisly assigned task to pay the surrounding shops any mind. Now though, he had time, too much time, on his hands. Now he noticed such things.
He sighed, not sure why he had returned to this dismal place. Distracted, deep in thought, with no specific destination in mind, his feet had brought him here, to the most dangerous street known to wizardingkind. He would have to watch that.
His mother had begged him not to leave the house but not because she was concerned for him, well, not much. No. More because she wanted him in her sight all the time. After the year they’d had, it was understandable, he supposed, but it was also smothering.
He snorted softly. Just because his father had retreated from the world didn’t mean he was to be Lucius’ replacement! Surely his mother could see that? He had his own life to pursue.
And the first thing will be to clear the Malfoy name, he thought grimly. It had got to the point where he had to keep his hair covered in public. Very few wizards his age had hair this colour after all, and having one’s picture splashed across the front pages of countless newspapers was not conducive to anonymity. Hardly anyone was unaware of who he was anymore. And to think he used to envy Potter.
It was getting dark and it occurred to Draco that he needed to be alert. He ducked his head as a couple of wizards walked towards him. When neither one seemed to pay him any mind, he relaxed slightly, relieved. There had been incidents involving ex-Death Eaters lately. Several had been assaulted while out and not one person had lifted a wand to help them. He doubted anyone would help here should someone discover who he was.
Draco hurried quickly past his old haunt. The place had been shut down by the Ministry anyway, the dark windows now lifeless, although he still had the eerie feeling of being watched as he walked past.
Someone shouted at the end of the alley and Draco turned to look, his hood falling off his head with the quick motion. The two wizards who had passed him were staring straight at him, and Draco saw it the moment he was recognized.
It was as he was scanning further down the alley for an escape that he saw it. ‘Mirabella’s Tarot Readings’, the sign declared in faded pink, and in smaller script it said ‘moste accurate predictions for your future’.
One of the wizards had started towards him, an unpleasant look on his face. Draco strolled purposefully towards Mirabella’s. He could at least look as if he had an appointment or something.
The wizard was coming up fast, and just as Draco raised his hand to knock, the door opened and a gnarled hand pulled him through.
“Oi!” came the cry from outside as the door was shut in the wizard’s face. Distant cursing followed and then finally faded.
Draco looked at his rescuer carefully, but the hallway was dark and he could barely make out their face. “Thank you. How did you know--?”
“Welcome, seeker.” As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the hallway, he could see an old woman looking up at him, her beady black eyes dancing with some unnamed emotion. “You are right on time. Come this way.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talk--”
She brushed past him mid-sentence, walking towards a room further down the hall. He could see a brighter light coming from it. He hesitated.
“Go or stay, child.” The woman’s voice drifted back to him. “But know that those men shall not relinquish their prey so easily.”
Draco glanced once more at the door. She was right, of course. He hardly had a choice. With a sigh, he trailed after her, walking into a busily decorated room where clashing florals warred with stripes and animal prints. In the centre was a table with two shabby chairs pulled up to it. A deck of cards was laid out in a fan shape.
“Sit,” the old woman rasped, pointing at one of the chairs. “I’ll do a reading for you.”
“I don’t believe in that rot,” Draco said. “Look, if you have a back way out, I’ll just--”
“Sit!”
Draco sat, blinking as the woman sat across from him and, after shuffling her cards, said, “So, seeker, shall we see what the cards hold for you?”
“I suppose,” he said dryly. It appeared he had no choice. He rolled his eyes.
“You may ask your question,” she said.
“I don’t have any questions for you other than, how can I get out of the position I’m now in?”
She inclined her head. “A good question, young seeker, to be answered by a simple reading I think.”
He shrugged and sighed. “As you wish, then. Once you’re done you’ll show me the way out, yeah?”
She smiled, her gap-toothed grin somehow unnerving him. Letting her hand hover over the cards for a moment, she picked one out and turned it over. “Ah, the Upright Fool. Of course.”
Glancing down at the card, Draco saw a young man, a gaudy fool’s hat on his head, carrying a stick with a rag tied to the end. His eyes widened. “I am no one’s fool, madam,” he said coolly, getting to his feet, “Now if this nonsense is over...”
He gasped as she grabbed his arm, her grip deceptively strong for a bent old woman. “You are at the beginning of your new life,” she whispered. “Expect the unexpected and trust that all shall be well. You’ll have important decisions to make, follow your instincts and you shall make the right choices. You cannot run from your past, but you can use past experiences to make a new and better future.”
Pulling away, Draco glared at her. “If you keep this up I’m going to take my chance with those men,” he said, nodding towards the door through which he’d entered.
She shook her head. “This way,” she said, leading him out of the room. “You’ll be able to slip away to safe Apparating distance through the back.”
The tiny alley smelt of horrid, dead things, but Draco was still glad to be out of the claustrophobic room and away from her piercing eyes. He turned to look once more at his unlikely rescuer. Realizing he owed her a debt, he slipped his hand into his robes, and, pulling out a coin, handed it to her. “Thanks.”
She accepted the money and smiled that gap-toothed smile again. “Blessed be. And remember, you can do anything, just watch your step, lest in your eagerness, you trip, young seeker. And do not refuse help when offered.”
Draco sneered and turned away, promptly tripping over a box to fall flat on his face.
Her peals of laughter made him flush with embarrassment, but by the time he was up and had turned to glare at her, she was gone, the alleyway deserted. It was fully dark now and, shivering, he wrapped his robes more tightly around himself and hurried home.
~
“But why not, Harry?”
Harry sighed. He knew he should be patient with her. She was his best friend’s sister, practically his own sister, really, but this was getting old. “Because we’re in your parents’ house, Ginny!” he hissed, eyes darting towards the stairs up which anyone could walk at any moment.
“Oh, please. They don’t care!” she whispered back. “Trust me, if we walked downstairs hand in hand for dinner, they would be thrilled. They know how I feel about you.”
Harry removed Ginny’s arms from where they had wound around his neck and stepped back. “No, Gin,” he said firmly, wondering, for not the first time, if he should have stayed at Grimmauld Place instead of allowing Ron to talk him into coming to the Burrow. It would have made packing a lot easier, although he imagined Kreacher would be fussing over him about now... He shuddered.
Ginny looked hurt and Harry sighed. “It’s not right. I don’t...” He swallowed hard and decided on honesty. “It’s not fair to you. I’m not ready to commit to anyone and you deserve better. Ron’s right. We can’t keep snogging.”
“What? Why not? I like snogging you.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you seemed committed enough in your sixth year.”
“I...”
“You what? You’ve found someone else to snog, then? Did you meet someone while you off doing whatever you were doing?”
“No!” Harry sighed. “Ginny, I told you all about that. It was just me and Ron and Hermione looking for Horcruxes out there. Who could I have met? We were alone.”
“So you said.” She sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes searching his face. “It’s all the pressure, isn’t it?” she asked finally.
“The...?”
“Everyone’s expecting you to go back to Hogwarts, settle down, marry... someone, have children, be an Auror, but no one’s asked you what you want to do.” She pushed away from the wall and moved closer. “So what do you want to do?”
Harry stared at her. “I... I don’t...” His mouth snapped closed.
Ginny smiled. “You don’t actually know, do you?” she asked gently.
He flushed. “I’ll decide,” he said a tad defensively. “Eventually. I am going back to school, though. That much I know.”
She nodded. “That’s a start, I’d just hoped... I really could help with the rest of those decisions, Harry.”
“Yeah, it’s just that this is the first time I’ve been able to decide things for myself, you know?” Harry said, realizing at that moment that it was true. “All along it’s been someone else deciding things. Voldemort, my relatives, Dumbledore... Now that it really is up to me, I’d sort of like to make up my own mind about my future.”
To Harry’s relief, she smiled and patted his arm. “I understand, Harry. And you do know that no matter what you decide, you’ll always have me, don’t you?”
Harry grinned, pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Gin,” he whispered into her hair. “I dunno what I’d do if I lost your friendship.”
She simply clasped him tighter. “It’ll never happen,” she murmured. “No matter what, we’ll always be friends.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“She really is,” a new voice said.
They sprang apart, Harry peering into the shadows darkening the stairs to see Hermione and Ron standing there. Ron was shaking his head.
“You two really need to stop doing that,” he said, pushing past. “If Mum sees you she’ll have the wedding planned before you can say ball and chain.”
Ginny giggled and leaned away from Harry. “True, which is why she’ll never catch us,” she said breezily as she walked down the stairs.
Harry shared a look with Ron and Hermione before following. Given Molly’s temper, they all hoped she was right.
~
“But why, darling? Why would you go back there?”
Draco sighed. He had anticipated resistance from his father about returning to Hogwarts, but not his mother. “Mother, I have to.”
“I know last year wasn’t ideal,” she said, and Draco bit back the urge to laugh at that bit of understatement. “But what else can they possibly teach you?”
“All the things I didn’t learn last year.” Draco stirred his tea and stared out the window. Bloody peacocks were squawking again and giving him a headache.
“If you must go back to school, I think there are better choices. Or perhaps we could hire a private tutor...”
“Leave him alone, Narcissa. It’s his decision.”
Two sets of eyes turned to stare at Lucius, but he didn’t return the favour. He was too busy pouring himself a Firewhisky.
“Lucius, do you really think you ought to have that for breakfast?” Narcissa wrung a napkin in her hands as she spoke. Draco’s eyes were caught by her unusually rough fingernails.
“Indeed, Narcissa, I am doing my best not to think, thank you. I would ask Severus to make me some Dreamless Sleep, but alas, he’s gone! Is it not enough that the Dark Lord took everything? My friends, my reputation, my home, even my wand fell to his greed! Am I no longer the master of even my own body in my own home?”
Narcissa’s lips compressed in a thin line as he strolled towards the door. “Lucius, I didn’t mean--”
“If Draco wants to return to Hogwarts, he can,” Lucius interrupted. “He’s a grown wizard, he can make that decision. And he’ll need an education to make his way in the world.”
“You expect him to have to work?”
Draco rubbed his temples as staccato bursts of conversation exploded around him. He wasn’t sure he could articulate exactly why he wanted another chance at Hogwarts, only that he did. All he knew was that with the war over and all his family’s many machinations having come to naught, he needed a new start, they all did, and this was the first step.
“If he must return to school, Beauxbatons would be perfect,” Draco heard his mother say. “I always hoped he’d go there anyway...”
“He doesn’t need to learn magical embroidery!”
Draco rolled his eyes discreetly. He wondered if the Board of Governors would even allow him to return to Hogwarts in the first place. It was being reported that the previous year of school was being discounted and that students, especially seventh-years, were being offered the chance to repeat the year. But did that include people who had been a part of the ‘hostile takeover’?
“It’s a perfectly good institution,” Narcissa was saying. “He would do well there. He speaks perfect French.”
“It would be seen as cowardly,” Lucius snapped.
Draco blinked. Yes, it would. He imagined all the Gryffindors would be returning to wallow in their superiority and their victory, including Potter. Draco licked his lips. Oddly enough, he hoped Potter would be there. Potter always made him strive to do better, put forth his best effort. If they both ended up at Hogwarts again, he thought that would be the same, too.
“Durmstrang?” Narcissa said. “I suppose we could see if they would consider--”
“I don’t want to go there,” Draco said. “Hogwarts, Mother.”
Narcissa threw up her hands. “I want it known that I do not agree with this,” she said. Standing, she sailed out of the room.
Draco sighed and took a sip of his cool tea. Perhaps this was all a pipe dream, perhaps he needn’t worry about any of it. Letters would undoubtedly be going out in a few days. It was possible he wouldn’t get one.
“If you want to return, I can make sure it happens,” Lucius said quietly.
Startled, Draco looked up at him, watching as Lucius drained his glass of the fiery amber liquor. “Yes,” he finally whispered. “I want to go.”
Lucius nodded and walked out.
If nothing else it’ll get me away from these bloody peacocks, Draco thought.
~
Packing turned out to be more difficult than he had anticipated. A day after his father had promised his help, Draco’s Hogwarts letter arrived. Unfortunately, it had arrived in the middle of dinner, and his mother had used it as an excuse to wax eloquently about what a mistake it was. Since his father no longer attended dinner, Draco had borne the brunt of that discussion, and now he was in an unenviable position between his feuding parents. His mother, an old hand at persuasion, used every trick in her formidable arsenal.
“Honestly, darling,” she would say every morning as the time drew closer for him to return to school. “The pace of life in Europe is just so much more civilized. The food is better, the fashion, not to mention the marriage prospects. You would be much happier there. It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Marriage prospects? No respectable English wizarding families would talk to them now and she imagined it would be better in Europe? “I am not going to Europe, Mother,” he’d say.
“Perhaps America, then?”
The first time she’d said that, Lucius had snorted and speared Narcissa with a glance but hadn’t said a word, retiring to his study moments later. His mother never mentioned it in his father’s presence again, although she did bring it up as often as possible when they were out of Lucius’ earshot.
Resigned to her nagging, Draco would nod but say nothing, just go to his room to supervise the elves and plan his year. It didn’t take him long to see that it would require a lot of planning.
Not only was the Malfoy name not what it had been, but he would be one of probably very few Slytherin seventh-year students returning. Pansy certainly wouldn’t be, not after her display during the Battle of Hogwarts as it was now being called.
He shook his head. He would definitely need new friends, especially as his old ones were either dead or as good as.
“Fucking idiots,” he muttered, sparing a thought for his old sidekicks. “So much for Slytherins being clever and secretive.”
It was up to him to redeem their house it seemed, and to do that, he needed supplies and a plan.
~
It was a busy day in Diagon Alley, what with people bustling about. Many Hogwarts students could be seen flitting in and out of shops carrying books, robes, sweets...
“So we’ll see you in Flourish and Blotts in thirty minutes, yeah?” Ron had stopped a few feet short of Madam Malkin’s, much to the chagrin of the people trying to walk around him.
“Unless you want to come in with me to try robes on,” Harry said, grinning.
Ron made a face. “No thanks, mate. Given that choice, I’d rather go look at books with Hermione.” Dodging her playful swat, he continued. “I will go to the Quidditch shop with you later, though.”
“I imagine Ginny will want to go there, too,” Hermione added.
“Speaking of, where is she now?” Harry asked, looking around.
“She said something about shopping with Luna,” Ron said. “I can only imagine where they are.”
Harry smiled. Knowing Luna, they were probably off looking at vegetables to make into jewellry or something. “Right, well, I’m going in,” he said, looking up at the brightly displayed robes in the window.
“You don’t have to get new clothes you know, Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if anyone cares.”
“I care,” Harry said softly. “It’s time I dressed like a real wizard. I’m turning over a new leaf, it’s a new year, and I no longer have to rely on Dudley’s awful hand-me-downs.”
Hermione smiled. “I know,” she said, patting his arm. “Do you want me to come with you? I can put off shopping for books--”
“No. You’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. Go on. I’ll see you there a bit later.” Harry squared his shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”
“Right! See you later, then,” Ron called back as he dragged Hermione along.
Harry chuckled as they walked away. Glancing around Diagon Alley once more, he sighed. This was the first time he was relaxed enough to appreciate the sights and sounds of the place, the first time he didn’t have to worry about being under attack. The first time he didn’t have to do anything but look forward to a year of learning about magic. It was a heady feeling.
The shop looked busy to him when he pushed inside; he was a bit surprised to see so many people being fitted for robes. Harry stood by the door for a few moments until he was spotted.
“Mr. Potter!”
Madam Malkin herself, beaming, bustled over to shake his hand.
“Hullo. I, um, have an appointment,” Harry began.
“Of course you do, dear. I have a fitting room set aside. Come this way!”
Harry followed her, chewing his bottom lip as he did so. Perhaps Hermione was right, perhaps he didn’t need to...
“Here we are,” she said, gesturing towards a room. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll let one of my seamstresses know you’re here--” She broke off, a cool note entering her voice. “Oh my, there’s someone in here already.”
Harry looked over her shoulder, blinking when he saw Draco Malfoy standing there. “Malfoy?”
Madam Malkin crossed her arms. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “You’ll need to go. We need this room for Mr. Potter.”
Malfoy looked up, and Harry would have sworn a hurt look crossed his face before the cool mask he was used to seeing returned. “I’m afraid I have not completed my fitting yet,” he said. “Potter will just have to wait.”
“Certainly not!” Madam Malkin looked outraged. “He deserves a private room. Mr. Potter is--”
“All the rage,” Malfoy finished dryly. “Yes, I’m aware of his popularity.”
“It’s all right,” Harry interjected, stepping in front of Madam Malkin. “I’m sure Malfoy and I can share this room for our fitting. There’s no need for him to have to leave on my account.”
“That’s generous, Mr. Potter, but there’s no reason you should have to--”
“Really, it’s fine,” Harry insisted. “We attended school together once, we can manage to share a room for a few minutes.”
Madam Malkin looked doubtful, but at Harry’s reassurances she finally nodded. “Very well. I’ll be sure to send someone in immediately. There’s no reason you should have to be in the same room with the likes of--”
“We’ll be fine,” Harry said again, shutting the door in her face. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Malfoy, who was staring at him.
“Are you sure that you can stand to be in the same room with me, Potter? It may soil your reputation.” Malfoy had a smirk on, but Harry could still see some tightness around his eyes. The prior scene had probably upset him.
“I think I’ll manage,” Harry said, walking into the room. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually.”
“Oh?” Malfoy crossed his arms. “What about?”
Taking a deep breath, Harry launched into his explanation. “I owe you and your mother a debt. Either of you could have betrayed me during the war or the last battle and you didn’t. When we got caught and we were at your house, you knew who I was, didn’t you?”
Malfoy nodded slowly. “I did,” he confirmed.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, I thought so. Yet you didn’t let on, even when they kept asking you.”
Malfoy shrugged.
“Did your mother tell you what she did when Voldemort asked if I was dead?” Harry continued.
Malfoy began fiddling with the fold of his robes. “She told me about some of it. I think you more than made up for anything you owe my family by testifying on our behalf before the Wizengamot. If you hadn’t we probably would have been sent to prison.”
“Maybe,” Harry said.
“And if you hadn’t saved Goyle and me from that Fiendfyre...” Malfoy shuddered.
Harry nodded. “Yeah, that’s true, too, I suppose. I just... I feel as if I still owe you and your family, Malfoy. If you ever need anything...”
“What? You’ll use your influence?” Malfoy’s glance was sharp.
“I’d consider it.” Harry held Malfoy’s gaze as two seamstresses walked in followed by Madam Malkin.
“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter. Shall we finish your fittings?”
They both nodded, and as the seamstress began pinning the fabric around him, Harry found himself cataloguing the changes in the other man. Malfoy seemed different somehow, less combative, more introspective. He certainly wasn’t as insulting as he usually was, and that annoying drawl was gone.
It took Harry a minute to notice that Malfoy, too, was being fitted for Hogwarts robes. “You’re going back to school?” he blurted.
Malfoy’s eyes met his in the mirror. “Well spotted, Potter,” he said. “As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”
“But... but why?” Harry asked. “I mean, you finished school last year, didn’t you?”
Malfoy looked away. “You think we really learned anything? Oh, there were a lot of Unforgivables being cast, but no real spell theory or teaching.”
“And you care about that?”
Malfoy’s eyes went cold. “Believe it or not, Potter, I do care about my education, especially since I’m likely to have to make my own way in the world.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured. “That was thoughtless of me. Um, I was just surprised that you were coming back.”
Malfoy smirked. “Of course I am. After all, someone has to give you a run for your money when it comes to Quidditch,” he said.
Harry laughed. “You can try, Malfoy. You can try.”
“There, you’re done,” Malfoy’s seamstress said, stepping back. “Shall we have them owled to you when they’re completed?”
Malfoy nodded and stepped down from the pedestal he’d been on and pulled his regular robes from the hook. “Yes, thank you.”
As he walked out, he paused and looked back over his shoulder at Harry. “Nice chatting with you, Potter. See you on the train.”
Harry stared after Draco when he left, wondering why he was suddenly looking forward to it.
~
“Well that was exhausting,” Hermione proclaimed, collapsing onto the couch next to Ron.
“I don’t know why we had to buy everything today,” Ron whinged. “There’s a week yet until school starts.”
“Did you see how crazy it was in Diagon Alley? It’ll only get worse before the term begins,” Hermione reminded him. “And your mother wanted us to get things done early, remember?”
Ron rolled his eyes. “I still think we could have done it in shifts. Maybe if we’d divided it into several days we would have had time to look at the Quidditch equipment.”
“If it had been up to you we’d have spent the entire day there,” Hermione said. “And not got any books.”
Ron smiled. “Is there a problem with that?” he teased, dodging her smack. “The Quidditch shop would have been fine with Harry, right?”
“I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Ron shook his head. “You feeling all right, mate?”
“Yeah, just thinking. Did either of you see Malfoy there today?” Harry asked.
Ron raised an eyebrow. “Malfoy? In Diagon Alley? Was he looking for school supplies?” At Harry’s nod Ron whistled. “Why would he have been there? He finished last year.”
“He told me that he’s coming back to Hogwarts,” Harry murmured.
“He what?” Hermione sat straight up. “When did you talk to him?” she asked.
“He was in Madam Malkin’s getting fitted for school robes.”
“Really?” she said, exchanging a look with Ron. “You never said.”
“Sure I did,” Harry replied, settling back into his seat. “I told you when we met up at the book shop.”
“I think I would have remembered that, Harry.”
“Maybe I never got to say,” Harry said thoughtfully. “You were a bit engrossed in the books.”
Hermione blushed. “Right, well tell us now, then,” she said, leaning forward.
Harry shrugged. “We were both being fitted for robes and we had to share a fitting room. He said he was going back to Hogwarts and he seemed, I dunno, different somehow.”
“Different? In what way?”
“Just... I can’t really say, more thoughtful or something.”
“Malfoy? Thoughtful? Right. So worst luck that he was at Madam Malkin’s at the same time as you,” Ron sighed. “Did you hex him?”
“Ron!” Hermione cast a quelling glance at Ron before moving to sit next to Harry. “So, he’s coming back to school? Did you ask him why?”
Harry nodded. “Said he didn’t learn that much last year, what with all the Death Eaters about. I got the impression that he wants to actually learn some things and take his NEWTs.”
“That’s... surprisingly farsighted of him,” Hermione said. “Maybe the war knocked some sense into his head.”
Ron shook his head. “I doubt that. I’ve no doubt he’ll be the same old prat he’s always been. He may be a bit more careful about spouting that pureblood crap in public, though.”
“I don’t know about that,” Harry said. “He seemed sincere enough, and Madam Malkin wasn’t very nice to him.”
“Oh?” Hermione frowned.
“Yeah. She was going to throw him out of the fitting room until I said it was fine for us to share.”
“The name Malfoy clearly doesn’t mean what it used to,” Ron said. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Yeah,” Harry said.
“It would be much worse if not for you. He probably feels grateful for all you’ve done,” Hermione said. “You did testify on his and his mother’s behalf, after all.”
“More than I would have done,” Ron muttered.
“Things could have been much worse if he had actually identified us that night at the Manor, Ron,” Harry reminded him. “It was the least I could do.”
“He probably didn’t know it was us,” Ron insisted. “He was just waiting like everyone else to see what happened.”
“He knew,” Harry said. “I think he knew and he was starting to realize he’d picked the wrong side and he did his best not to give us away, to give us a chance.”
“Yeah, right.” Ron turned away, stood up and began rummaging through the sideboard.
“That could be,” Hermione agreed, moving closer to Harry. “That doesn’t mean he’s entirely trustworthy now, though.” She was staring at him intently as she spoke.
“It may mean he’s probably grown up a bit.” Harry sighed. “Look, I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends or anything, but we can be polite, yeah? Especially since we’ll all be eighth-years together.”
Hermione smiled. “I suppose so,” she said.
“What’s so funny?” Harry asked.
“I think you’ve grown up a bit, too,” she said. “I can’t see you having made that suggestion last year.”
Harry blushed. “Thanks. I think,” he chuckled. “It feels like this year should be a new start, you know?”
She nodded and patted his arm.
“So, Exploding Snap, anyone?” Ron asked, holding up the game. He had chocolate smeared across his lips from a hastily consumed chocolate frog, and in that moment he reminded Harry of the eleven-year-old who had become his first friend.
Hermione shook her head. “At least one of you has,” she murmured, rolling her eyes as she moved to join Ron in the game.
~
“We can find another way to get you to Scotland, you know, dear.” Narcissa spoke in the cool, cultured tones she used when out in public. “I don’t know that the Hogwarts Express is the best way to--”
“I’ll be fine, Mother.” It had taken Draco years to perfect the ability to speak out of the side of his mouth, and he was rather pleased that he was able to pull it off. “I want to take the train.”
Narcissa sighed but didn’t say anything more. Instead she nodded, and after casting a critical look around platform nine and three-quarters she leaned forward and enveloped Draco in a perfumed hug.
“Owl me when you get in,” she whispered. “I’ll send you some Honeydukes dark next week.”
He nodded and let himself relax for a moment in her arms before pulling away. Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the train and stepped on board. Something tingled over him, but Draco dismissed it as his imagination.
Searching for an empty car proved difficult, and by the time he managed to find one, the train was already pulling away. He was able to get to the window in time to have a last glimpse of his mother as she stood there and then she was gone, the buildings rushing past the window as he settled into his seat.
He hadn’t seen any of his classmates in the other compartments he had passed, but that hadn’t been particularly surprising. What was surprising was that no tried to come and share the compartment with him.
Shrugging, Draco chalked it up to good luck and spent the majority of the trip staring out the window and thinking.
A prefect came by mid-way through the ride, but when she stuck her head inside she looked straight through him and after a moment kept going without a word. Draco sighed. It looked as if it was going to be a lonely year.
Luckily he didn’t happen across Potter or his friends on the trip; Draco wasn’t sure he could have managed to remain calm in that situation, although his last meeting with Potter hadn’t been too bad.
When the train pulled in to Hogsmeade, Draco was ready to disembark, although he did wait for a while to allow everyone else off. As he stepped off the train into the cool night air, however, he shivered a bit, then he realized his strategy hadn’t worked quite the way he’d planned.
“Malfoy.”
Potter and his two faithful sidekicks were there; apparently they had been waiting for him. Great.
“Potter. Weasley. Granger.”
“Looks like you were serious about returning.”
Draco smirked. “Were you hoping I’d been joking? Sorry to disappoint you, Potter, but yes, I was serious.”
“No, I just--” Potter sighed and started again. “I didn’t see you on the train, and I went looking, so I wondered if you’d changed your mind.”
“I was there,” Draco said thoughtfully. “I had a car to myself.”
Granger was staring at him. “Do you have a spell on you?” she asked. “You look a bit blurry around the edges.”
Draco blinked. “Not that I--” He paused as he remembered the tingly feeling from earlier. “Finite Incantatem.”
Granger nodded. “Yes, you look normal now.”
Draco ducked his head. His mother, bless her, had evidently cast a Notice-Me-Not Spell on him, just enough to give him a few hours of peace before the deluge of questions started.
“Right, well, if that’s all I’ll be going up to the school now--” He paused, staring at the creatures attached to what he’d previously assumed were horseless carriages. “What are they?”
“They’re Thestrals,” Potter said. “Guess it’s the first time you’ve seen them?”
Draco nodded slowly. Was that big one looking at him?
“You didn’t see them last year?” Granger asked.
Draco shrugged. “The Dark Lord did away with the carriages last year,” he said. “He said we should all be able to Apparate to the gates and walk in under our own speed. The underage ones had to be Side-Along-Apparated by pureblood relatives.”
“I see.” Granger walked past him. “Well, unless you want to walk to school, you’ll get in a carriage.”
“Does he have to get in our carriage?” Weasley stage-whispered.
“Ron!”
Draco could feel his face heating. “I can wait for another,” he said stiffly, wrapping arms around his torso.
To his surprise, both Potter and Granger objected to that.
“You’re welcome to come with us,” Potter insisted while Granger whispered furiously with Weasley.
Draco considered this. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, all right,” he said, walking towards the carriage. “Let’s go, then.”
Granger was already in the vehicle, Weasley sitting next to her and staring at Draco as if daring him to come near. With a sigh, Draco stepped up into the carriage and almost missed.
“Watch your step,” Potter said behind him.
Draco froze, something in Potter’s voice reminding him inexplicably of the Seer who had done his Tarot reading weeks before. She had told him to watch his step, too...
The buggy lurched and Potter fell against him for a moment before righting himself. Draco sat very still on the way up to Hogwarts, wondering why he was no longer cold.
~ Continued in Part Two
