What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 28 – What Makes Him Stand

Draco stood in the doorway, leaning nonchalantly against the frame as he watched Scorpius and Al play together. They were in the lower levels of Malfoy Manor, zooming around on their broomsticks in the indoor Quidditch Pitch that had been set up in Draco’s youth to allow him to practice through all seasons. It was a massive undertaking at the time, made little easier by magic, but it was well worth it. If only to see the look in his son’s eyes.

Naturally, he couldn’t have foreseen that it would benefit his son more than it ever did him, but that was a detail that Draco did not care for.

Scorpius had told Al to bring his broom along and, in turn, gave the Potter boy the chance to ride on his new broomstick. Scorpius had received a Cumulus 470 for Christmas. The thought amused Draco to no end as the first words out of Al’s mouth when he saw it were “My brother got that one too!”

It also amused Draco to see that both Scorpius and Albus were naturals on a broomstick. He wondered if James were this talented as well, and Lily. Perhaps it was the legacy of the two Seekers to produce Quidditch playing children. Surely it would have strained Al’s relationship with his brother if James had to work harder to fly this well.

He couldn’t help but wonder…

Albus was so drastically different from either of his parents. Harry had never been soft-spoken or innocent like his son. He had been much quicker to judge and filled with the prejudice that the Weasleys had. Not that Draco was free from blame on that front, but no one really was. Ginny, of course, was just like her brothers and judged people quickly before knowing them. She was harsh and hostile to those she cared nothing for and snappish towards those that were close to her. She was headstrong and stubborn and nothing like Albus at all.

Where had he found his sanity in a house like that?

Then again, he supposed he wasn’t one to talk, considering that Scorpius did not resemble him or his mother in any strong manner. He was calmer than both of them and had a kinder heart in many ways. Scorpius was a stronger child than Draco could ever have been. He made Draco endlessly proud.

The blond sighed as he continued to observe the two boys zooming around the field, high above his head. He was glad to see the both of them smiling and enjoying themselves the way they did. He was quite glad that Potter had agreed to let his son visit; he clearly did need it. But something bothered Draco still.

Albus had not arrived with his father as Draco had suspected. They arranged an opening in the Floo Network between Malfoy Manor and Potter’s house but he sent Al through on his own and demanded the boy firecall him back immediately upon his arrival. There had been no problems with the transfer at all, but it bothered Draco that Harry was so determined not to see him.

It had been more than a week now. Albus Severus had been staying at Malfoy Manor for four days and was very soon going to go home the same way he came. Then another opportunity for Draco to see Harry will have gone out the window because of Potter’s inability to be clear about anything.

He huffed silently to himself before throwing the thoughts aside. If Potter had not meant anything meaningful by his comment in the kitchen, then there was nothing Draco could do about it. Nothing aside from kick himself repeatedly for allowing himself the delusion for this long, anyway.

“Scorpius!” he called out to his son finally. Scorpius stopped dead in midair and hovered on the spot. Albus had not heard the call, nor had he noticed that Scorpius had stopped and he thus went soaring directly into his friend, sending the both of them hurtling from their broomsticks towards the ground.

Draco instinctively cast a slowing charm, followed by a cushioning one to soften the fall and allow them both to land safely. When they had untangled their limbs from one another, they were both fine and –thankfully –laughing. Draco sighed and rounded up their broomsticks to store in the shed.

“Yes, Father?” Scorpius finally asked, both of them sauntering over to him. He cocked a brow and gave them a smirk.

“You should both be more careful,” he said silkily. “I can’t be sending you back to your father in pieces, Albus. He might think the Manor too dangerous to visit.” His voice held a gentle challenge and not a bit of mischief. In truth, he enjoyed Al’s presence and loved to see his son interact with another his own age.

“Naw, he wouldn’t say that,” Al replied confidently with a bright smile. “The Manor is amazing! I know Dad wouldn’t discourage me from having adventures. He keeps going on about how I need to spread my wings and worry less.”

Draco smiled at him and nodded walking them up to the dining room. They began talking animatedly to each other about Quidditch and the tryouts for next year’s team. Scorpius was after the Seeker position and Albus, apparently, wanting to try out for Chaser. This surprised Draco slightly but he did not remark on anything until they called for his attention.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Al asked suddenly as they drew closer to the dining room. “Scorpius said you used to play Seeker. Does that mean you played opposite my Dad?”

Draco let the smirk play on his lips, his eyes turning a stormy grey as his lids slid half-way down. The memories of Quidditch at school were good ones and always a source of… excitement for him.

“I did,” he answered simply. “We both won our fair share of games at school, though I suppose I would have to admit he won more than I did.” Draco ran his tongue over his teeth before pushing the mite of jealousy from his tone. “He really was a great Seeker, your father.”

Draco found it much easier to admit this than he would have liked. It served only to reassure him that he had jumped in far too quickly, drowning in his own mess now as Harry refused to speak to him.

“Well you must have been too,” Al replied happily. “He doesn’t like to talk much about Quidditch. I don’t know why. Perhaps he just misses it, but when he did tell us stories, he only ever talked about his games against Slytherin and how he just narrowly beat you. Is that true?”

Draco paused, thinking back on all their games. True, several times towards the later years, the match had been so close between them. Harry had always managed to grasp the Snitch from just beyond Draco’s hand, just slightly faster, just slightly more agile. But the earlier games were riddled with embarrassing moments for Draco. His first match, he had been so overconfident that Harry had managed to catch the Snitch right next to his ear and he hardly took the time to notice. Why did Potter lie that way? Or rather, why did he chose to skillfully ignore the earlier triumphs he could present to his child?

“I suppose,” he answered calmly, motioning for them to enter the room. They each sat down and the House Elves presented the supper in elegant fashion.

Albus had been taken with the Elves from the moment he had arrived. He had never seen one before, he admitted. Scorpius had told him of the Elves that served at Hogwarts but they were never seen by students. And, naturally, no relative of Hermione Granger (Weasley, whatever) would be caught dead ‘enslaving’ a House Elf.

Albus clearly had none of his aunt’s fervour for the protection of Elfish welfare but that did not mean he did not suffer her ire on the subject.

Draco listened to the boys’ stories from the day as the meal progressed. They seemed to be constantly having fun and Draco longed for a time where he might have told his own father the same thing. But he never had a time like that. Crabbe and Goyle had not been friends to him, they had been bodyguards. He had always felt closer to them than they did to him. They followed his orders like disdainful employees near the end of their friendship and Draco had never gotten over it. Pansy had not been a friend so much as a worshipper and that, too, had died along with his freedom in sixth year. Blaise Zabini was also shallow in his choices and made friends with no one who might threaten his easy life. As soon as he found out that Draco was dealing with Voldemort, he dropped him and paid him little mind. Theodore Nott was the closest thing to a friend Draco might be able to admit, but even he was not quite that. Theo was a loner and cared little for the company of others. He preferred his books and his studies, something that greatly annoyed Draco. Anyone could be clever judging by books, but it was a very different thing to put your mind to work in the real world and deal with danger when it’s snarling in your face.

Theo had been clever, but quite a coward in more ways than Draco.

He had, thus, never had any close friends throughout his schooling. He had followers and cronies and people who liked to ride on his coattails or stand and bask in his shadow as he had been something of a legend in Slytherin house (before the end of their schooling, anyway) but they were not friends.

He had, honestly, hoped to find a friend in Harry Potter and when that fell through, he knew that he would never know what real friendship was.

The more he watched his son laugh with Al, the more he wished it had been different. He wished that he could, one day at least, make Harry laugh the way Scorpius could pull a chortled from Albus. It was the kind of happiness that could not be restrained and roamed free with no shame and no barricades. Acceptable social behaviour be damned, Albus laughed like a person should laugh.

“Mr. Malfoy?” Al asked again, taking Draco by surprise. He looked up and nodded his attention. “Why haven’t you and my dad talked in nineteen years?”

Draco considered the question and wondered how best to answer it. Was there a way? Was there a way that he could offer the truth and yet not make both boys wonder how their friendship was affecting the rest of both families? Was there a way to explain that Draco had not become friends with Harry until Scorpius had become friends with Al?

“Times were different when your father and I were growing up,” he admitted wisely, careful about his choice of words. “Each house was full of prejudice and they did not get along nearly as well as they do today. We were different people then and didn’t understand each other.” He paused and chose his words again. “We both simply needed time to grow and learn. Nineteen years, I’m afraid, was the price to pay for understanding. Adults are quite slow when it comes to matters of the heart, you see.”

Al nodded as he took in the words. His bright green eyes were shining like emeralds and reminded Draco painfully of Harry. He smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you are both friends now,” he said happily. The both of them got up to go play some more, but Al stopped in the doorway to ask one thing more. Draco turned to look at him. “I want to thank you for having me, Mr. Malfoy. You’ve already been so generous with me but… well can I ask one more thing?”

Draco arched a brow and nodded gently.

“Yes, of course,” he replied kindly. “Our home is always open to friends. Anything I can do.”

Albus took a step back and took a deep breath. He looked away for a moment as he tried to formulate the words, his teeth nibbling on his lower lip as he did.

“I just wondered if you could take care of dad for me,” he asked shyly. “While I’m at school, I mean. He’s always so strong for all of us and I know that he can’t be dealing well with everything. He’s so sad and I see it but… well, his eyes just light up when he sees you and I want him to be happy.”

Draco was in such a state of shock that he could not bring himself to ask how Albus Severus knew this before the boy nodded to him in thanks and ran off behind Scorpius.

It took Draco a good few minutes to recover from the shock, but once he did, hundreds of questions bloomed into his head and caused chaos in his mind. Was it true what Albus said? Did Harry’s eyes really light up at the sight of Draco? How much can the perceptions of an eleven year old child be trusted? Can he believe it? Could he ever let himself?

He wished it. He wished it dearly but, again, his more rational and harsher nature came alive inside of him and told him that it was not what he was hoping for. Potter could never care for him in the way he wanted to be cared for, not even part of the way he wanted. It would not happen.

Draco gingerly got to his feet and walked over to the sitting room. He stared into the empty fireplace. In just a few hours’ time, a fire would spring to life in bright green to call Albus Severus back to his home. Then Harry would be out of his life, possibly for good.

But perhaps he was overreacting. Harry simply might not be ready at all… ready to talk and face the answers Draco had to give. If that was the case, then why did he refuse to show up with his son and risk the (very minor but still possible) dangers of the Floo Network?

Draco shook his head as he stared at the lifeless hearth. He almost wished he had enough nerve to step into the fireplace himself and just appear inside Potter’s home. If only to see his bright green eyes again… and not have to long for Harry’s presence when he looked at Albus.

Draco thought so long on these eyes that he thought he must be tricking himself in sight. There was a lick of green fire in the hearth for a moment. He blinked. He must have imagined it.

But then, just as he was about to turn away, the fire came to life and Harry stepped out of the fireplace, carefully dusting the soot off of his clothing.

Draco stared at him for just a moment, trying to find some fibre of reality to grasp just to assure himself this was real, and then snapped back to his usual cool façade and derisive comments.

“Do you know the term “warning”?” he asked sarcastically. “Because, in the future, I would like some if you are going to just pop into my house whenever you feel like it.”

Potter looked at him, considering the comment for a moment before chancing a smirk and shaking his head.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked, jokingly. “I can never catch you off-guard if you’re expecting me. Who knows what you might be doing otherwise that you are hiding from me.”

Draco’s eyebrows made a run for his hairline. Potter seemed much more comfortable now. He seemed happy and, if Draco dared suggest it, his eyes really did light up when he looked at him.

“Indeed,” Draco replied silkily, unable to contain it. “What could I be doing?”

His eyes were stormy again and Harry’s eyes met them full-force, green and wanting but giving away nothing of how he truly felt. They stared each other down for a moment, the tension building between them so thick and so bitter-sweet it could have been marketed as novelty candy.

Draco had the urge to walk up to him and touch him. Just to touch him. To lay a hand on him in some way, whether to hit him or to pull him closer. He couldn’t identify it but he wanted to be closer to him. He needed it. Nothing moved at all and Harry seemed to be fighting a similar urge until –

“Dad!” Al’s voice broke their silence and he came running in to welcome his father. Scorpius followed, carrying the other boy’s broomstick and House Elves followed him, carrying his other essentials. “I didn’t know you were coming to pick me up!”

Harry opened his arms to welcome his son and pulled him into an embrace. It was rather odd seeing them, considering they looked so much alike. Draco smirked slightly. Harry stood up again with a smile on his face that was different from the one he gave Draco. This smile was soothing and encouraging to his son. The one that was reserved for the blond man was mischievous and demanding. It was a façade for a multitude of other rampant emotions that Draco found he needed to understand.

“Well, I need to talk with Draco for a bit,” he said happily. “So if you’d like, you can go play for another little while then we’ll go home together.”

Al’s eyes lit up at the promise of more time with his friend and he immediately ran off with Scorpius to plot some other enchanting and only mildly malevolent ploys.

Harry watched his son go until neither of them were visible at all, then turned back to Draco with a rather sheepish look on his face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t send message,” he admitted softly. “It’s been…hectic.”

That was not the word Draco would have chosen for the situation and it intrigued him that Harry had so carefully used it. The dark-haired man shifted in his stance and glanced back and forth between the doorway and Draco’s eyes.

“It’s alright, really,” he reassured, unsure of why he was giving in so easily. “I understand. It must be very hard.”

“Something is hard,” he said softly, his eyes cast away. “But the things that should be difficult are not.” Harry looked back up into Draco’s eyes now, his own orbs a raging green ocean. Draco opened his mouth to reply but Harry cut him off. “So what answers do you have for me?”

Silence fell and Draco shut his mouth, wondering if Harry was really ready for it or simply acting on the idea that the sooner he got it over with, the better. Draco shifted in his footing now as well and decided that rather than seem uncertain, he would walk over to the sofa and take a seat. He motioned for Harry to follow suit and he did, sitting –likely unintentionally –next to Draco on the sofa and ignoring the other armchairs.

“Are you sure you are prepared to know?” he asked quietly, his tone more unsteady than he wanted it to be.

“I’m prepared for anything you have to give, Draco,” Harry replied, most likely unaware of the possible connotations in his words. Draco looked at him smoothly.

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he hissed lowly. “You can’t be prepared for everything I have to give you.”

Harry inclined his head and moved dangerously close to Draco, his lips slightly parted and his irises shifting under the change in perspective.

“Trust me, Draco,” he hissed back, his voice reminiscent of the Parseltongue that Draco loved. “I know what I’m talking about.”

Draco paused, his eyes trained on the soft lips that were hovering just inches away from his own. He had the insatiable urge to lean in and kiss them but fought it. Now was not the time. Not in the slightest.

“I don’t think that now is the right time to talk about it,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s not polite to get right to business. First, let me give you your Christmas gift.”

Harry pulled back slightly, his brows knit over his nose.

“Gift?” he asked, confused. “Why would you have a gift for me?”

“Two actually,” Draco corrected, ignoring the actual question. “The first is not so much a gift, but it’s yours anyway. You have full permission to pass through the wards of Malfoy Manor when you please, even when I am not here. It’s an offering of trust, really.” He paused to let Harry take it in.

“You are giving me access to all of Malfoy Manor?” he asked in surprise. Draco nodded.

“In fact, your name has taken the place of Hydra’s in the incantations,” he admitted coyly. He knew Harry would not pick up on the suggestion but it was no matter. “I don’t think I have any reason to distrust you.”

“T-…Thank you,” he said finally, unsure of how to take it. His face had shifted considerably and a light blush dappled his cheeks.

“You are welcome, clearly,” Draco replied, amused. He pulled out the second gift from his pocket. “This is the second. It belonged to my mother.” He handed Harry a thin silver chain. Hanging from the chain was a pendant but it was very particular and very unique to the Malfoy family. It looked much like a silver ring, hanging from the necklace but it was a serpent, stylistically consuming its own tail. The eyes of the serpent were tiny emeralds.

Harry’s eyes widened as he touched the ring pendant and felt the cool silver against his skin. Then he pulled back and shook his head.

“No, I can’t accept that,” he said, looking away. “It belonged to your mother, I have no right to it.” He was blushing.

Draco fought the urge to frown.

“It last belonged to my mother but it is a Malfoy heirloom,” he explained calmly. “It’s a symbol and mine to give to whom I choose. I want you to have it.”

Harry looked at it and held out his hand again. He took the pendant and let his eyes roam over the circle. He looked guilty. Draco leaned closer to soothe him if he could.

“A symbol of what?” he asked, his eyes stuck on the place where the serpent’s mouth met its tail.

“Death and rebirth,” he answered, his voice like silk. “Eternal life.”

A shiver ran over Harry’s body and Draco saw the little goose-pimples rise on his flesh. He was pleased that he purposely left out the final meaning of the pendant. It would have unnerved Harry.

“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered, still unable to tear his eyes away from the snake.

“If you, Harry Potter,” Draco began simply. “Do not deserve a symbol like this, then who does?” He looked away and tried not to smirk. “Let it be a symbol of hope to you. Hope and life. You’ve faced too much death.”

Harry turned to him, his eyes dark and turbulent. Draco turned his head as well and their lips, once more, were mere inches apart.

“Thank you, Draco,” he answered quietly. Draco smiled.

“As I said, Harry,” the blond whispered. “Anything for you.”

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A/N: Wow long chapter and crazies. I didn’t really know where to end this one but I wanted to get to a part and I didn’t get to it… yeah. Next chapter though. I hope it works. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it!

I also liked the idea of the watch but this has other meanings you’ll find out later. Odd, yes, but I love the symbol. I see Draco as being one to dote on Harry and people he’s attracted to. It’s kind of manipulative in a way, using things they would find particularly meaningful to gain their attention/love or whatever, but it’s so very Draco and I love it.

I hope you do too!

And Albus and Scorpius are awesome. I dunno if I’ll put AS/S in there, the slashy kind anyway, just because this is Harry/Draco and they are only eleven. But I do love the pairing. You never know hehehe.

Ah hopefully I’ll get to post more tomorrow but I have this ceremony thing in honour of my grandfather so I’ll do my best!

Love for reviews and everything!!