Chapter Text
“Move aside, I’m stepping through” the command came in the cold and imperious tone of Narcissa Malfoy and the head quickly disappeared from the green flames of the floo.
If you didn’t know her closely, Narcissa might have appeared aloof, cold, reserved, much too proper without real emotions and depth, as her public mask of the well-bred, pureblood, noble Lady was excellently crafted and expertly wielded, even in crisis. Especially in crisis, like this one.
Severus Snape was already standing a few steps from the fireplace, scrambling to his feet after the command from her.
“Lucius?” He asked.
“I sent an elf after him to the ministry. He’ll join us shortly. Lead the way and explain to me how this happened! You said Draco is injured?” She replied with the same cold and commanding tone matching her public persona mask.
“Not exactly injured, Narcissa” The man sighed and opened the office door for her and followed her to the cold dungeon corridor, rushing to clarify what happened with her son. “Draco was petrified. He is fine, once the mandrakes mature we can revive him and physically he will be just fine.”
“Petrified? Slytherin’s beast?” Narcissa turned to face him and searched his face.
Severus nodded in affirmation.
For a second Narcissa’s mask fell and a storm of emotions passed through her face. Worry, anger, pain and anger again, before the stoney mask snapping back in place.
As it often happened with wives, who knew their husbands well, Narcissa also had the distinct feeling that somehow Lucius had his hands in this mess, he was probably responsible for this turn of events. Only mothers could have an even stronger intuition about their children’s sins, but Lucius’ mother was unfortunately dead, for 2 years now, so it was up to Narcissa to sort out the mess her husband caused.
“He caused it, for sure. He was scheming all summer. But how?” She thought. At the time she chalked it up to the ministry raids that necessitated to move several dark artefacts from their display cases around the manor or even from the safe in the study. She would figure out what he did, she knew it, but right now the most important was Draco.
Even if you knew what to expect, one could never be prepared for the reality of seeing your child in a hospital bed and this was precisely the case for Narcissa too. She was rooted in place in the middle of the medical bay trying to comprehend what she was seeing. There were four petrified students in the beds, like marble statues of passed moments; movements, feelings carved in stone for eternity. One with a camera, portraying nosy curiosity, one with pure terror on his face: fear. And two tangled up, like the picture of teenage love right on Valentine’s day.
Her son, her little dragon laying on his back, Harry Potter straddling him, Potter’s hands fisted in Draco’s robes below the collar, almost like dragging him upwards towards Potter, while her son gripping the boy’s arms tightly. Their faces mere inches from each other, turned to the side, surprise and shock visible on their faces. The scene was so palpable with tension.
When her husband and the headmaster stepped through the door several minutes later she was still trying to comprehend the situation. Her hand on his son’s cold, white marble head, tracing the strands of hair, once so soft and silvery, now hard alabaster, art imitating life.
Lucius’ indignant voice could be heard from far away as he approached the hospital, threatening the Headmaster with dismissal, but his voice was suddenly cut when he saw his son in the hospital bed.
Only Narcissa and Severus saw the guilt and the pain flashing through his eyes in the moment the mask of his cold arrogance cracked.
“But… No! This cannot be! Draco is a Malfoy!” he stuttered before collecting himself again and turned to his friend, the godfather of his pureblooded son.“ Explain this, Severus!”
“I cannot, Lucius. This is how we found them. Draco and Potter antagonised each-other quite intensely, almost as if they were obsessed. Heightened emotions and all that.” Severus sneered at the thought. He still vividly remembered those times when he ran into his arch enemy in different deserted areas of the school. Well, they were slightly older at the time, as it started at 17 for him and Black. He shook himself, and the memory, with the sudden, agonising pain and hopelessness which was visible in his eyes for a split second, were already back behind his occlumency shields, buried deep and locked down firmly.
“You know what it is Lucius, and we also know whose fault it is, don’t we?” came Narcissa saccharine voice and the Headmaster quickly excused himself and left the hospital wing. The Headmaster was not the sort of person who enjoyed other people’s personal dramas very much and it was safer to run than to have Narcissa Black Malfoy turn against him and accuse him with irresponsibly handling this critical situation.
“The mandrakes will mature by springtime and we can revive them.” Said the potions master. “The Headmaster cannot order mature ones as the school budget won’t stretch quite that far, having to import them from Brazil is a significant cost, he says.”
“The cost is not important. Order it from Brazil, Severus, if necessary. I don’t want my son stay petrified for 3 months.” Lucius ordered, waving away the comments on the price.
“For all the 4 children.” Added Narcissa in a tone that tolerated no contradiction. When his husband still opened his mouth to spew something about mudbloods she snapped.
“Think, Lucius! Potter is our problem now and reviving the muggleborns on our cost can sway public opinion greatly. Away from the headmaster towards us. Contact Skeeter and spin the story as you need.” She said and saw that Lucius’ strategic brain finally started to work and he was already planning how to turn the events to his own advantage.
The same day somehow a picture of the petrified students found its way to the Daily Prophet’s office and a young muggleborn Ravenclaw was happily counting the galleons she received for the picture. Even Lucius was not powerful enough to stop it from being printed in the next morning edition, but the article was detrimental enough to the Headmaster’s public image, that Lucius didn’t mind it too much.
Narcissa did mind it though. Staring at her son’s compromising picture in the prophet, pondering the public scandal she needed to mitigate as she read the headline:
‘VALENTINE’S DAY TRAGEDY - THE YOUNG LOVERS OF HOGWARTS PETRIFIED
The article was reeking of Skeeter’s sensationalist style and was as distasteful as they came. However, it did manage to deliver a jab at the Headmaster and paint Lucius in the light of the saviour.
‘… our sources confirm, that Headmaster Dumbledore decided not to purchase mature mandrakes for the restoration drought, thus leaving the four students in a petrified state until the moment the school’s mandrakes mature in several months’ time.
We asked Lord Malfoy for a comment:
“I just had the mandrakes ordered, and am willing to pay for the costs for all four victims. Even if the school is unable to take responsibility, I refuse to allow the children to stay in this state any longer than strictly necessary. It is cruel.”’
The tea tasted bitter in Narcissa’s mouth as her knuckles whitened around the handle of her buttering knife. Lucius! He will pay for endangering her son and dragging them into this scandal.
She quickly stood and stormed out of the conservatory where she usually had her breakfast. In the entrance hall she grabbed the paper with the address, which was on top of the folder with the standard documentation and disapparated.
Disgust visible on her aristocratic features, Narcissa looked over the uniformised row of ugly plebeian houses where the muggles lived their uniformised lives and walked up to the door.
A horse faced sour woman opened the door, whose dismissive expression visibly softened as she took in Narcissa’s expensive designer clothes and shoes. The muggle’s eyes practically bulged seeing the Birkin in her hand.
The betrothal contract was signed within 5 minutes, the muggle wanted to get rid of Potter so badly that she only asked to be ensured that ‘the boy’ would never be coming back. It was so suspicious that the witch spent another 10 minutes browsing through the muggle’s memories and thoughts. Bile rose in Narcissa’s mouth and her mask crumbled seeing the small starved boy on the thin, soiled mattress in the cupboard, then being burned while cooking for the very family that starved him. She either left that second or she cursed this vile, disgusting human being. So she disappareted with a crack from the middle of the tasteless living room.
By the time the contract was filed by the family lawyers she calmed down a bit and started planning. She was not the violent type like her oldest sister, but cruelty and vengeance came easy to any Black, as natural, as breathing. Maybe the obscure Nemesis Curse could do and it was never considered illegal, seeing how it is unknown by the ministry. It needed three Black women and could be only cast once every decade, but she knew both Cassiopea and Lucretia would be happy to assist her. Or.. maybe this was the best moment to contact her sister Andromeda too, just to leak to her the knowledge of how Dumbledore let this all happen to a magical child, how he left a toddler on the street in a November night, on the steps of those abusive animals.
Meanwhile back in Hogwarts a manicured hand reached out for the inconspicuous black diary which lay innocently on the desk and started to write in it: Hero in Hogwarts, or the mystery of the student petrifications by Gilderoy Lockhart.
Three days later Lord Nott snorted during breakfast reading the headline of the Daily Prophet.
‘LOCKHART DISAPPEARS! WAS THE FAMOUS DEFENSE PROFESSOR RESPONSIBLE FOR THE PETRIFICATIONS IN HOGWARTS?’
The article tore into the Headmaster, criticising the safety measures in the school while speculating how Lockhart was responsible for the petrifications in order to write a bestseller about it. Potter and Malfoy must have caught him in the act and hearing how they would be shortly revived the man decided to run for it and disappear while he could.
Lord Nott’s handsome breakfast companion chuckled as he was handed the article.
“Like that idiot would have been capable to petrify someone. People believe anything.” The young man said biting into the bacon with amusement on his face.
“Ah, I so missed bacon!”
“Nitty, get us some more bacon.” Nott called his elf and smiled indulgently at his guest.
***
Harry Potter scrambled backwards in a panic as soon as he was unpetrified and practically fell onto the floor next to the bed, looking up at the people surrounding him.
Snape, his face lacking the usual sneer, Madam Pomfrey busying herself with helping him up on the bed next to Draco. Draco, who looked unusually pale and quiet, grabbing the hand of a beautiful blond woman. Probably his mom, who was whispering something in a soothing tone to him.
Mr Malfoy on Draco’s other side, real worry on his face, something soft and gentle in his eyes as he looked down at his son. Harry’s chest tightened. Even Vernon didn’t have this soft look in his eyes when looking at Dudley.
“One more spoiled brat, who has loving parents to worry about him. Ew, I sound like Snape! Not like Malfoy didn’t deserve what was coming, the slimy git, what with all he said about mudbloods and cleansing the school from them…” the thoughts were racing through his jealousy clouded mind as he heard the matron shuffling around the other beds in the background and talking to Colin and Justin.
Mrs Malfoy then straightened herself and moved to sit next to Harry, on the edge of his bed and Harry froze. Soft hands took his hand and kind grey eyes bore into his.
“How do you feel my dear?” she asked in a gentle tone and Harry had to pull himself together to answer instead of just gaping. What was this? An adult, who is interested in his well-being? In his feelings? Yeah, more like a trap, punishment would come, for sure, for beating up their precious son.
“Well, thank you ma’am” Harry replied automatically.
“None of that ma’am, please! Call me Narcissa. And it is fine if you are not well. It is fine if you feel scared or confused. It is the 29th of February, Saturday. You were petrified for two weeks, but you can leave the hospital wing shortly. Just spend the day relaxing please. We talked to Miss Clearwater, the Ravenclaw prefect. She will meet you and Draco on Sunday, after lunch, to help you catch up with all the school work you missed.” She said kindly and Harry was unable to say anything, just stared at her.
“Why is she this kind to me? Why does she care? What does she want?” Questions impossible to answer chased each other in Harry’s head and suddenly he saw Malfoy glaring at him behind his mother’s back. “Hahh, he is jealous that his mom cares for me!” he realised and this realisation shook him out of his stupor and pushed him to act.
“Thank you ma’… Narcissa. It is so kind that you care about me missing classes and that you organised tutoring.” Harry said carefully articulating his words to try and emulate her posh accent. Teachers liked when he did that. Then he smiled that innocent, kind smile, which felt definitely fake, but the adults liked it. Except his aunt and uncle of course, but that was a lost cause anyway. It worked, because Narcissa smiled back and Draco’s eyes darkened with anger.
“Take that you blond git!” Harry thought with the feeling of achievement, a job well done.
A little bit later Harry and Draco were walking to the Headmaster’s office with the Malfoys. Draco was obviously sulking. Harry thought they might get some detention for fighting on the corridor around curfew, and was wondering why going to the Headmaster and not McGonagall or Snape?
“Come in” they heard the Headmaster’s voice when the four of them arrived to the top of the moving staircase.
“Ah, I can see you are both unpetrified my boys. Very good news.” The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled at Draco and Harry.
“Headmaster, we are here to inform you that seeing the compromising nature of the events and the photo that was leaked from this school to the Prophet we saw best to contact Mr Potter’s guardian.” Mrs Malfoy said and Harry paled.
“Compromising?” He just hoped Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon might forget about this until June, because if they were involved that surely meant something very bad for Harry.
“Mr Potter’s legal guardian signed a betrothal contract and the transfer of guardianship agreement” Mr Malfoy added in a tone that did little to hide how much he was enjoying the way the Headmaster paled at these words.
“No. I’m afraid I cannot approve this. Mr Potter’s guardianship cannot be transferred and he must live with his family.” Dumbledore protested.
Draco was pale and even seemed incapable of sneering at Harry any more.
“Guardianship? Living with my family? Do they want me to live with them? My options are Death Eaters or the Dursleys?” thought Harry looking from one adult to the other who were talking about his life as if he wasn’t even there.
“It is all done, notarised and filed at the ministry already.” smirked Mr Malfoy haughtily at the Headmaster.
Narcissa then smiled at Harry seeing his confusion and turned to him.
“I met your Aunt, Harry…” she said knowingly. “I promise that you’ll never ever have to go back there. We’ll take care of you, you are safe from them now.”
Harry choked. He desperately tried to swallow his tears and looked away from the soft and knowing look in Narcissa’s eyes. He saw Draco staring and glared at him through his teary eyes.
“Fuck my life.” He thought. The sentence, the one he so desperately wanted to hear since forever, came from Malfoy’s mom. “Now I’m in the hands of Death Eaters and must live with the slimy git. Cannot be worse than the Dursleys though…”
“There will be consequences Headmaster.” promised Narcissa and Harry wanted to jump in and protect Dumbledore but he was too confused. “There is a term for what you and your chosen guardians did to my ward, and it is neglect, child abuse and endangerment.”
Harry wanted to shout at them. He was not abused. And anyway, it was not Dumbledore’s fault, how could it be? He was always kind.
Yet, he didn’t shout at anyone. He just stood there frozen, tired, confused and angry.
Narcissa then hugged him and Harry wanted to fight it and push her away, but it just felt so nice, so warm that despite his better judgement his hands came up to hold her and just melted into the embrace. Harry desperately tried not to think about the fact that this was the first loving, maternal hug he ever received, if one didn’t count the pats on his shoulders he got from Mrs Weasley last summer.
Mr Malfoy then placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small stack of papers.
“Here are the copies of the contract Mrs Dursley signed for you, it is pretty standard. If there is anything you don’t understand, or you have any questions please feel free to write to me and we can discuss it.”
They then both hugged and kissed Draco and before they stepped into the Headmaster’s floo they told the boys:
“We’ll see you both very soon for the Spring break. We expect you both to behave and write to us often.”
“Mr Malfoy, you are free to return to your common room now.” Said the Headmaster once the Malfoys were gone. “Mr Potter, please remain behind for a few minutes.”
“Do I have to go to the Malfoys, headmaster?” Harry asked when the door closed behind Draco.
“I’m sorry my boy. I’ll go to the ministry and check the legality of this contract and make sure you go back to your family for the summer.”
Harry didn’t know what to feel. Fighting to go back to the Dursleys for summer sounded almost worse than spending spring break with Draco bloody Malfoy. He was in a daze all through lunch and didn’t hear a word of what Ron and Hermione said to him about Lockhart’s disappearance and the petrifications.
He spent the afternoon in the common room while Ron played chess with Percy and Hermione was reading next to him on the sofa. After Harry stared blankly into the fire for 2 hours Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She just grabbed Harry with one hand, Ron with the other and dragged them both up to the empty dorm room.
“Talk, Harry! We can see that something is wrong. Something other than this Chamber of Secrets business. We heard you had to go to the Headmaster with the Malfoys. What happened?” She asked pacing up and down the room, looking at Harry who was sitting on his trunk at the feet of his bed.
“I have to go to the Malfoys for spring break. It seems they are my new guardians? Aunt Petunia signed some papers.” He said his voice slightly shaking.
“What?!” Both Ron and Hermione sputtered at that. “Oh, Harry!”
“You cannot go there! They are death eaters!” exclaimed Ron and Harry jumped up and started to shout:
“Do you think I don’t know that? How am I supposed to spend a week with bloody Malfoy? And meanwhile, they paid Penelope Clearwater for tutoring, because I missed 2 weeks of school. Malfoy’s parents care about my grades?! They… I never had before… anyone to care about my grades or want me to do well in school.” He collapsed back down onto the trunk. “Sorry… I am not angry with you guys, it’s just too much.”
And suddenly his arms were full with his friends and he already felt a little bit better.
“Did you know that it was Dumbledore himself who left me at the Dursleys? Maybe the only true thing Aunt Petunia ever said to me, was that someone dropped me in the middle of the night on their steps with a note pinned to the blanked… I never wanted to believe it. But it’s true! Dumbledore left me on the street. With a note. And Mrs Malfoy was kind with me and she was angry with Dumbledore and talked about things like ‘neglect’ and ‘child endangerment and.. ‘abuse’.” The last word came out as a whisper, before starting to shout again:
“She knows! She met Aunt Petunia and she knows everything! I was so careful that no one ever knew anything. But it cannot be Dumbledore’s fault! Surely it cannot be.” Harry was rambling now and Hermione looked at Ron significantly over his shoulders.
“But I just don’t get it. Why now? I thought they were angry with me for beating up Malfoy on the corridor, but no. They want to be my guardians instead of getting me in detention.”
“Mate, how much do you remember from that night?” Ron asked carefully.
“Malfoy was being a git, baited me and I got so angry that I jumped him to beat him up. That is all. Next, I wake up and Mrs Malfoy asks me to call her Narcissa and is concerned about my well-being and invites me for the break. Oh… and Mr Malfoy gave me this to read over.” He tossed the crumpled contract copy from his pocket into Hermione’s hands.
Hermione straitened the pages and started to read it while Ron found the old copy of the Prophet from two weeks before.
“They all think you jumped that git for an entirely different reason …” Ron said showing Harry the headlines.
“What? No! But you guys, you know it’s not like that, right?”
“We know mate, but everyone else believes it. It was Valentine’s day and you two were covered in pink heart shaped confetti.” Ron said and Harry groaned fisting his hands in his own hair.
“This is an engagement contract!” Hermione exclaimed. “Sounds like something from a freaking Brontë novel. Are these things real? Is it normal in the wizarding world?”
Harry just whined and pulled at his own hair desperately.
“Muggles don’t have this? Even my parents had one back in the day, because my mom’s family was quite traditional. Of course my parents don’t force it on us. Neither Charlie nor Bill had betrothal contracts. Yet. At least not until they are 30 and still not married, according to my mom.” Blabbered Ron while Hermione just stared at him in shock.
“There should be classes about the wizarding world! I don’t even know what I don’t know!” She complained then turned to Harry.
“There are rules about behaviour, and other things, like you are supposed to spend at least 2 hours a week together. Acceptable activities are like quidditch, tea, talking, walking, restaurants, shopping and all kind of cultural programs. The contract can be broken off by either party for different reasons: if the contractual obligations are not fulfilled, rude behaviour, cheating. Or at 17 if any of the then emancipated parties change their minds.” She listed the contents and Ron nodded. It seemed he didn’t even realised why Hermione and Harry were shocked.
“It sounds totally standard. But Malfoy mate? That sucks! Now you have to make nice with that git! I assume your tutoring sessions with Percy’s girlfriend count as time spent together and later maybe you can get away with some seekers’ game, so you don’t have to talk to him too much.”
“At least they are not homophobes, just blood purists.” snarked Hermione.
“Homophobe? What’s that?” asked Ron.
“It’s a muggle term for those who have irrational hatred against those, who are attracted to the same gender.” She explained with the tone she normally used in class, when reciting something by heart.
“What? Why would anyone do that? Muggles can be so stupid.”
“Ah, for Godric’s beard! I haven’t even thought about that. I never even thought about if I’m attracted to men. Or even women for that matter, it’s waaay too early to think about liking someone and such rot.” Harry groaned and kept on tugging at his hair.
“If it helps, there is no expectation for any kind of physical intimacy in the contract. So no hand holding or anything.” She added blushing now.
Harry felt like this was some surreal nightmare where they are talking about engagement contracts and holding hands with Draco the-Slytherin-Git Malfoy. He just wanted to wake up and go back to when his biggest problem was Slytherin’s monster or Quirrellmort and the philosopher’s stone. Real problems. Not holding hands with that slimy ponce.
“Do you think they want me to go there so they can kill me? Or hand me over to Voldemort?” Harry looked up at them and let his hair go. His hands were shaking slightly.
He expected them to be worried, but both exclaimed at the same time.
“No Harry!”
“Traditional families take these kind of things seriously, the Malfoys too. The betrothed must be treated well.”
“There are sections detailing this actually. Here, look. At the section of obligations due to them being your guardians: living accommodations, studies, clothing, emotional stability and all. Look!” and with that Hermione pushed the contract into Harry’s face.
“So I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys and in exchange I must tolerate Malfoy 2 hours a week?” Harry looked up from the contract with something akin to hope in his eyes.
“Ah mate!” groaned Ron “They’ll surely make you attend etiquette, French and Latin classes during the summer! That must be horrible!”
At that Harry started to genuinely laugh, but some understanding dawned in Hermione’s eyes and Ron’s face darkened.
“Just how bad Harry’s family really is, so that summer classes with the Malfoys seemed funny in comparison? Those bars on the window… How extremely skinny he was last summer. The bruises. How he flinched when someone approached suddenly. Did Dumbledore really drop him on the street? Alone in the night?” Ron grew up with Dumbledore on a pedestal and it was crumbling now. The headmaster might be a busy man, but it was no excuse.
“So guys, tell me about Lockhart! Did he really just disappear? And no petrifications ever since?”
“That’s 2 out of 2 defence professors attacking you Harry!” exclaimed Ron and they started to talk about the events Harry missed during the last two weeks. Harry’s heart was much lighter.
The next day Penelope collected him and Draco at lunch and lead them into an unused classroom on the ground floor. Draco was quiet.
“Sulking probably” Harry thought “pretty sure he hates the contract even more than I do” and wasn’t that a happy thought. “Plus he must spend Sunday afternoons being tutored by a muggleborn in my company.”
This almost made him snort. If Draco is unhappy with this situation, even more unhappy than he was that would just make the day, for sure. So he made sure to be extra polite with both Penelope and Malfoy and the 2 hours of tutoring session went quite fast. Penelope was actually a good teacher, explained things and focused on practice, which helped Harry. Besides, as a muggle born somehow she understood much better where there might be gaps in understanding for a muggle raised, due to the lack of basics.
Malfoy was actually almost as smart as Hermione. Harry was better in practice in most cases, while he understood the theory faster.
During the following weeks Malfoy continued sulking. He was neither baiting Harry, nor calling Hermione a mudblood, just quietly glared at them in class. The rest of the Slytherins followed his example and left them in peace. Seamus tried to bait the Slytherins before DADA one day, but Ron and Harry barked at him to stop at once and after that Zabini and Greengrass took up the habit of greeting them and try with polite small talk instead of ignoring them as before. It was definitely weird and threw the boys completely off balance, but Hermione took it in stride, even though she was the one insulted previously for her blood by some of them.
What the Gryffindors didn’t know was that Saturday Harry was the main topic in the Slytherin common room amongst the 2nd years.
“I cannot believe my parents signed a betrothal contract with Potter. POTTER!” Draco whined while Pansy looked at Blaise behind his back.
“Because you haven’t been obsessed with Potter since first year!” snorted Blaise and Theo tried and failed to hide his smile.
“He is a berk! And I’m not obsessed with him!” Draco exclaimed. “And now I must be polite and civil with that idiot scarhead! And spend time with him! And my mom was hugging him! My mom! He doesn’t have one so must he take mine?”
“Draco, you cannot say that! It’s rude.” Exclaimed Daphne and even Pansy agreed with her and added:
“You cannot be rude with him anymore, darling. We can choose someone else to pick on.”
“Anyway for the weekly meetings, you have the tutoring sessions now and after the spring break you can do some pick up quidditch games with him. Or a seekers’ game.” Commented Blaise.
“He’ll move to the Manor for the summer!” Draco just continued his whining. “He’ll be always there! Not only 2 hours on Sundays, Blaise!”
“Why? Why would he move there? I’m sure his family would not want that. I thought he lives like a prince, spoiled rotten and what not. He got a Nimbus 2000 last year, just because he made the quidditch team.” It was Theo who voiced what they all thought to be true.
Draco looked around in the common room.
“Not here. Everyone up to our dorm.”
Once they closed the door behind themselves, and everyone was lounging around in the boy’s dorm on beds, chairs, trunks and such, Draco finally talked.
“The whole story about Potter’s childhood and home life is a hoax! We were fed these lies and we ate it all up. Even Uncle Severus. What I’m going to tell you must stay between us. Swear that you will keep it confidential and not discuss it with anyone outside this group!”
“But who would lie about this? Potter is a spoiled brat with no manners, but he was obviously taught flying even before he was walking.” Tracy commented, but Draco just stared at them until everyone said the words of the oath. It was magical, but not unbreakable. A weak one, but it was enough to protect from surface level legilimency and slipping up while gossiping.
“Listen, my mom just gave me this letter in the hospital wing. I’ll only read the relevant part:
My Dragon, you might already know what I’m going to tell you, as you are in a relationship with Harry. So I probably don’t need to urge you for utmost confidentiality on what I reveal to you about him now. I brought the contract myself to his family, as I wanted to see where he lived. I admit, all that you and Severus told me about the boy did not add up to the image of the spoiled prince everyone believe him to be, so I went and investigated. Harry’s family are muggles. The worst kind, with narrow minds and uniformed, shoebox houses. There were no pictures of Harry, only his cousin and the muggle parents, as if he never existed. When I saw a small handwritten scrawl on the cupboard saying “Harry’s room” I decided to use legilimency on that odious woman.”
“Wait, Draco, your mom can do legilimency? Like the Dark Lord?” Theo interrupted.
“Of course she can, she’s a Black. She is a master occlumens too.” Draco scoffed.
“But it’s illegal to do on muggles. Is it wise to write about it in a letter?” Milly asked.
“Only I can read it. It works with my magical signature or blood. That’s not exactly legal neither.” Draco chuckled.
“So:
What I discovered was much worse than what anyone could have imagined. I won’t go into details, for Harry’s privacy, but you must know that he went through some very difficult years and they treated Harry worse than a house elf, and that is saying something. I scheduled a visit with Healer Greengrass for the spring break as I am sure his early childhood left some long term health problems we must treat. The reason why I tell you this, is because if you want a working relationship with him, you must place his well-being above all else, just like me and your father do. Making a relationship work, my dear dragon, is as much hard work as it is joy, and Harry has so many things to learn. Our customs, way of life, but also that now finally he has a safe space and people who care about him and whom he can turn to.”
When Draco finished reading silence fell on the room. Their brains worked feverishly. Potter, who was so skinny, whose clothes never fit, whose whole house turned against him so easily when they learned he was a parselmouth. Living in a cupboard. A magical kid, abused and mistreated by muggles.
“What do you want to do? And what do you want us to do, Draco?” Blaise asked finally.
“Let’s just cut him some slack. Leave him in peace. Him, the weasel and the mudblood too. I’m bound by the contract until I’m 17 anyway, so I must tolerate him now that my parents took over his guardianship. Maybe he can learn.”
The happiness he felt over the fact that Harry Potter would not be able to ignore him, at least not for the next 5 years, Draco hid well behind his simple occlumency shields.