What Shakes The Elephant

What Shakes The Elephant

Chapter 3 – The Meeting

Harry arrived at home late that night. He had spent the large majority of his day rifling through old and dusty volumes to little fruition. He had found very little information on anything useful at all and he supposed it had more to do with the fact that he simply did not know how to research this.

After all, Harry was much better at interviewing people and dueling or using magic or, in all honesty, anything apart from actually researching. That was Hermione’s job. Always has been. He supposed it always would be.

And so he had used the last bit of his day to send a Patronus to Hermione, requesting her help as he often did on his cases, despite that it was not technically ‘legal’ –though when did Harry Potter ever care to follow the rules? –and to plan out his plan of action for the coming weeks.

He had left work with a heavy heart and a hazy head, hoping to get home to eat some dinner, play with Lily for a bit and then get to bed with Ginny. But things did not always go as Harry wanted them to.

“Harry James Potter,” the oddly calm voice of his wife assaulted his ears. One would have thought that Ginny would sound exactly like her mother when angry and about to spout a lengthy speech. But Ginny never did. In fact, Harry had come to learn that it was most often only when she was jokingly angry that she sounded like Mrs. Weasley. Otherwise, Ginny’s voice became deadly calm and cold. It was more painful than the cruciatus curse, sometimes.

“Ginny?” Harry asked, his voice laden with exhaustion and piqued with confusion. He stepped out of the fireplace and dropped his briefcase next to the hearth. “What’s wrong?”

She was straining to keep her breathing even. Her hands were on her hips and in one hand was an opened letter that she eventually held out to him in such a violent gesture that he was sure she had meant to actually hit him.

“THIS is what’s wrong,” she shot back, thrusting the paper at him. He took it cautiously, without allowing his eyes to leave hers until he had the paper properly placed in front of him.

It was a letter from Albus Severus.

--Mum and Dad,

My first day at Hogwarts was amazing! I was so worried about making friends and getting sorted and everything but as soon as I got on the train I met my first friend!

His name is Scorpius and he’s really nice. He knows a lot about magic already and about everything there is to know about Hogwarts. I think only Auntie Hermione knows more than him. I don’t even think that the Headmistress knows this much! He knows all about the histories of the ghosts and secret passage ways and he told me about things he knew about other students too.

He showed me this really cool spell that makes a snake appear and then, I dunno, I did something weird and talked to the snake and told it to dance or something, I can’t remember, but it bowed to me and Scorpius. Scorpius made it disappear and he was so amazed, Dad! He told me that’s a rare talent I have and that it’s really cool and everyone is going to be jealous of me.

He even bought tons of sweets from the Trolley when it came around and shared them all with me. It was really cool; I’ve never met someone like him. He said that his dad went to Hogwarts with you too, Dad!

Why haven’t we met them before, Dad? I could have become friends with Scorpius ages ago!

The sorting ceremony was ok… the weird old hat actually sang a song. It was talking about all the houses and how there should be unity between them and everything and I thought that was really great. I don’t like fighting and Scorpius warned me that there are some houses that don’t get along so I hope the other students listened to the song closely so everyone can be friends too.

Scorpius went first and got sorted into Slytherin. The hat took a few moments to choose his house but he said that’s normal. I went up a little bit after and I got scared. I remembered everything James said about Slytherin and how I had to be in Gryffindor but then what you told me, Dad, came to mind. You said that it didn’t matter what house I would be in, right? You said that it was about my choices and who I made myself out to be…

So I put the hat on and it felt like it sat there for ages. It kept saying ‘hmm’ in my head and I got so worried and finally it whispered “You’d do very well in Slytherin” so I told it ok and it put me in Slytherin!

I got to be with Scorpius and I ran over and he congratulated me and all the other Slytherins shook my hand, even the older ones! I felt so good after that. Like I belonged for once. They weren’t making fun of me or telling me I’m a baby or anything… they were accepting me, Dad! I’m being accepted!

I can’t wait until classes start for real. Professor Longbottom is really good but I don’t like Herbology all that much. Potions is lots of fun but I think my favourite class is Defense Against the Dark Arts!

Scorpius told me I’m a natural with defensive spells. He’s really good at Potions so we always pair up. I met a few other students too.

It’s weird though. Rose hasn’t talked to me at all and James hasn’t said anything either. I guess they’ve just been busy with school work too. Anyway, I hope everything is ok!

Bye!

-Albus Severus –

Harry both a strange swell of pride in his chest at how wonderfully pure his son truly was, and how untainted he was by the prejudice that ran rampant in the wizarding world, but also a sinking feeling in his stomach as his eyes reread the very words that he knew Ginny was angry about.

“Ginny…” Harry began softly, completely unaware of what he was going to say.

“Are you happy now?” she asked with a cutting edge to her voice. “Not only has he practically begun to WORSHIP the Malfoy brat, but he’s been sorted into SLYTHERIN! You know very well that not a witch or wizard who goes bad wasn’t in Slytherin!!”

Harry put his foot down and gritted his teeth. He gave Ginny a hard stare –the only hard stare he had and it was the only one that worked on her. This was the kind of look he gave when she had gone too far…the kind of look she actually feared from him. It had only ever made an appearance once before and that was in their argument over naming Albus Severus.

“You know very well that isn’t true,” he answered evenly. “Not only was Pettigrew in Gryffindor, but Snape was in Slytherin and he was NOT bad. Add to that argument the Malfoys and –”

“Oh the Malfoys are HARDLY a positive addition to your argument,” Ginny snorted. “They were faithful Death Eaters until the very last moments of the war and even then they were nothing but cowards.”

“You weren’t there,” Harry shot back, his voice forceful and hard. “You did not see Malfoy’s face when he was forced to do those terrible things. You didn’t see his mother and father. I am not defending their actions, but I will defend that they are not evil wizards. They were by no means good, but you cannot argue that they are evil.”

“Oh and I suppose it makes the whole situation that much better then?” she spat. “The fact that you’ve added a convenient grey shade to the whole matter. So what if they Malfoys are “only just” bad?? That still doesn’t make them a good influence on Albus! And now it’s too late! He’s in Slytherin and consorting with… with –”

“With what??” Harry pushed on, squeezing the letter in his hand, desperate to cling onto his sons happiness.

“With pureblood snobs!” she finally exclaimed as though the words had been hanging on the tip of her tongue like a venomous bile for ages. “I will not have my son suffer that!”

“But you would have him suffer your own bigotry?? You would have him sacrifice his own happiness just to please you??” Harry was now unable to control himself. He had lived for years, trying to tell his son that he need not try to please everyone else. He tried so hard to show Al that he needed to make himself happy too. That the world would just take advantage of him and hurt him if he didn’t learn that you can’t please everyone. Harry had learned that lesson early on what with fame being so fickle and he was desperate that his son not face the same trauma.

“How DARE you call me a bigot!” she spluttered, and opened her mouth once more but he words were cut off with sudden hacking coughs. She brought her hand to her mouth and coughed fitfully into it, doubling over and resting her hand on the armchair for support. Harry immediately rushed forward to help her but she shrugged him off and stood straight again. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, Harry. But you better shake it off fast before it does some serious damage to our family.”

And before Harry could say another word she turned and left the room. He could still hear the distant echoes of her coughs from the hallway.

He let out an angry sound before dropping himself onto the armchair and staring into the fire. He had not fought this often with Ginny in… well ever, actually. He couldn’t let himself believe that it was only because of Malfoy.

There had to be something more. But… he wasn’t doing any of this just because he wanted to. He wasn’t going to try and befriend Malfoy just because he felt like adding a little tension into their lives. He was doing this for Albus.

Harry would do anything for his children. Anything. Even if that meant having to learn to get along with his old school rival. He would do it. He’d fought and brought about the downfall of Lord Voldemort so that the world could have a brighter future…so that his loved ones could have a happier and safe life.

He could do this and not let it destroy his family.

When Ginny was calmer she would understand. She would come to terms with the fact that Albus was a Slytherin. She would understand that it didn’t really matter. She would see that too. Harry was obviously not overjoyed with the concept. He would have liked all his children to be in Gryffindor… but he was happy for Albus.

He had found happiness on his own terms. He had been strong in his own way. He didn’t let himself be swayed by his brother’s comments and he was going to stand strong.

And he was a Parselmouth… none of Harry’s other children had inherited the trait and, frankly, he didn’t think they could.

He thought that he himself had lost it once Voldemort’s shred of a soul had been removed from him. At least until he had met a snake in a zoo again and managed to coerce it into doing a dance for a four year old James.

The thought occurred to him that perhaps Albus had inherited whatever residues of Voldemort were left over inside Harry but he shook off the idea. It wasn’t possible. Albus was pure and kind-hearted. He saw no differences between purebloods and muggleborns and half-bloods. He saw everyone equally. That much was for sure.

Harry read the letter again and allowed himself to be filled with that brilliant and contagious happiness that only a child’s excitement can bring.

Harry smiled to himself and tucked the letter into his breast pocket before ambling off to bed. For a few moments before he slept he did not think of the fight with Ginny or about Slytherins and Parselmouths and pureblood deaths. He did not think about work or war or troubles. He thought only of Albus’ excitement and awe at being at school. Then, vaguely, he reminded himself that he had his meeting with Malfoy tomorrow and fell asleep.

******

Harry had spent the entire day at work feeling something unidentifiable gnawing at his stomach. He couldn’t help but feel that he had forgotten to do something. He hardly concentrated on his work at all.

Hermione had sent him a Patronus message agreeing to do whatever research she could. She would send message as soon as she found something and Harry was grateful for that.

He nearly ran from his desk when the end of the day came rolling around and flooed back to his home. The gnawing feeling would not subside until he came face to face with Ginny who held another letter in her hand. Her eyes were cold and empty this time as she handed it to him.

--You cleverly forgot to specify a time, Potter. Eight it is.

-Draco Malfoy –

Harry felt the realization douse him like a bucket of ice water. He clamped his jaw down and looked up at Ginny.

“Don’t you ever let him send an owl to my house again,” she instructed with a razor sharp tone before turning around to get dinner ready. “You better hurry. You don’t want to be late for your little date.”

Harry gritted his teeth and walked up to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her tense up momentarily before sighing into the embrace.

“Ginny…” he whispered into her ear.

“Just go, Harry,” she said more softly. “It’s fine.”

He kissed her cheek softly and then ran upstairs to shower and change before his meeting. He picked up the folded letter that Al had sent him and slid it into the pocket of his robes before venturing back down to the kitchen to say goodbye to Ginny and Lily.

“I may be back late, so don’t wait up, alright?” he whispered, kissing her cheek again. She made some incomprehensible noise and nodded him off.

Harry Apparated in front of Three Broomsticks and checked his watch. He was already ten minutes late.

He cursed under his breath and stepped into the pub, feeling the familiar wafts of alcohol and butterbeer wash over him. He felt instantly nostalgic, wishing that he could be back at Hogwarts as a student. James and Albus would never know how jealous he was of them for being able to attend school. It was a rather foolish dream but he missed everything about Hogwarts.

Even his constant fights with Malfoy. Even nineteen years later.

He scanned the pub quickly, noticing Madam Rosmerta, still wearing her green sequined heels and still looking as fantastic as ever no matter her age, a few of the old regulars and then one very out-of-place looking wizard sitting off to the corner.

Draco Malfoy was sitting alone at a table near the back and looking rather disgruntled, though Harry could only see him from the back. There was no mistaking him or that typically-Lucius demeanor. His robes were high-collared and black with silver accents. And they were rich and expensive. Harry could tell even that from far. He made his way over to the table with a deep breath and a whispered “here goes nothing”.

“Malfoy,” he said upon reaching the table. The blond looked up at him with a rather bored expression and a slight sneer.

“Potter,” he nodded back to Harry as he sat down. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten cold feet.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow at the comment.

“We weren’t getting married, Malfoy,” he corrected as though the remark was absurd and out of place. Malfoy did not reply but Harry could have sworn he saw the faintest flicker of a smile on his face before Rosmerta appeared next to them.

“What can I get you?” she asked, hesitating for a moment when she realized exactly who they both were.

“What will it be, Potter?” Malfoy asked bemusedly. “Firewhisky or butterbeer?”

“Two firewhiskys, please,” Harry told her, ignoring the comment. She nodded and clicked off.

“Ah, you have grown up,” he said to no one in particular. Harry sat back and rolled up his sleeves. His hair was still slightly damp and so it hung in softly curling tendrils around his ears and eyes. Malfoy’s eyes followed the line of Harry’s hair.

“I was a little rushed,” Harry admitted, though he didn’t know why he felt the need to justify himself to Malfoy. Perhaps for the sake of Albus… they needed to start off on the right foot, after all.

“Well it serves you right,” Malfoy said absently, his attention turning back to the bar where he saw their drinks being poured. “You should have specified a time. Did you expect I was a mind-reader?”

Harry huffed.

“I seem to recall that you were marginally good at occlumency,” Harry retorted darkly. Malfoy gave him an even stare.

“Marginally doesn’t quite do my power justice,” Malfoy mused. “Though I’ve never had a taste for Legilimency. I’ve never cared to know what goes on in the minds of other people. That’s messy business and nothing I care to sully my hands with. Although, I must say, it would be mildly entertaining to know what’s going on in your sodden head, Potter.”

The look on Malfoy’s face was wolfish and predatory at this point. His silver eyes bore into Harry’s like a probity-probe in… well, a very different aperture. Harry shifted uncomfortably and felt a soft heat meet his cheeks. He did not appreciate the look.

“I wouldn’t try my luck if I were you,” Harry warned. “I wouldn’t hesitate on cursing you.”

“Then how did you suppose I would know when to meet you?” Malfoy seamlessly brought their conversation back to the point and Harry wondered if he had been able to track the dialogue the whole way through. He was far more skilled in speaking that Harry wanted to admit.

“Look, I was distracted!” Harry defended, getting hot and remembering vaguely why he did not enjoy spending time with Malfoy. The smug expression on his face was hard to bear no matter how mature he became.

Then Ginny’s voice echoed in his head and he gritted his teeth, determined not to give up.

“Yes, I can have that effect on people,” the blond replied, much to Harry’s displeasure. He had walked headlong into a trap and he knew it. How was this possible? Malfoy had never been able to trap him this way before!

He had always been much quicker in his retorts and replies. He had always been able to counter the Slytherin with retorts that might not have been more witty, but at the very least at par. Yet now he was fumbling before Malfoy’s words and rapid-fire remarks.

Had Harry really grown slow in his years?

Had he forgotten what it was like to shoot out retorts as effortlessly as spells in all the years he’d lived without a rival like Draco Malfoy?

He shook himself out of that thought. That would suggest that Malfoy challenged him and kept him on his toes more than anyone else and that was simply untrue. It couldn’t be true. Not when he had friends like Hermione and Ron… and Ginny… It was simply a lie.

“I would have thought that after the war you would have gotten over yourself, Malfoy,” Harry shot back as their drinks arrived.

“I could say the same for you,” Malfoy replied quietly, taking a swig of his drink. Harry did a double-take and shook his head.

“How do you figure that??” he asked rather harshly. Malfoy placed his glass back on the table.

“You took no initiative in setting up a proper time for our meeting,” the blond began in an aggravatingly calm voice. “You made no effort to contact me before the event out of courtesy to make sure everything was still on and then you arrive just over ten minutes late. It does not make it seem as though you really do want to start fresh, Potter, to say the least.”

Harry gaped at Malfoy as he spoke and highlighted all the mistakes he had made in the past few days. He felt angry and unappreciated. If only Malfoy knew about every fight he’d had with Ginny in the past few days, trying to defend him and his family to his own wife and causing tension there. If only Malfoy really knew…

But Harry reminded himself that he didn’t. He had no clue and Harry was not about to hang out his dirty laundry in the Three Broomsticks, much less give Draco Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing that their little meeting had already caused issues in the Potter home. No. He would bite his tongue and concede.

“You’re right, Malfoy,” he admitted with little reluctance. “Let’s start over.”

“You keep saying that,” Malfoy sneered. There was something odd in his face. He was clearly more mature. The sneer was not so cutting as it used to be. His voice was calmer and smoother. He almost seemed to be enjoying the whole ordeal as though it was just another meeting with an old friend.

The surprising thing was that Harry even found himself smirking at the whole idea. He shook himself of it.

“I mean it this time,” he explained. He pulled out the letter that Albus had sent him. “My son sent me this letter yesterday. He very nearly sings your son’s praises and he’s apparently been made a Slytherin.”

“Oh I bet your little wife nearly blew her head over that,” Malfoy snickered almost unkindly. Harry frowned.

“That’s not the point,” Harry pressed on, determined not to let his anger get the better of him. This was just Malfoy’s nature. He had to accept that. “But from the way my son tells it… Scorpius isn’t a bad kid.”

“Why is this so surprising to you?” Malfoy retorted, seeming mildly affronted.

“Well you were not the picture of perfection at Hogwarts,” Harry admitted.

“On the contrary,” he shot back. “I’ve always been perfect. You’ve simply been too blinded by courage and stupidity to notice. Otherwise known as Weasley and Granger.”

“I will not have you insult my friends,” Harry suddenly snapped, getting to his feet, his hard voice returning and his emerald eyes burning fiercely into Malfoy’s chest. He moved to leave but he felt a hand grasp his wrist.

“Potter, wait,” Malfoy told him quietly. Harry stopped and looked at him. “I’ll admit that was crass and unnecessary. I suppose it’s just old habits.”

Harry gave him a searching look, needing to know if there was anything but truth behind his eyes. There wasn’t. For once in his life, Draco Malfoy was admitting his mistake.

Harry sat back down and they both stared at their drinks in silence for a few moments.

“I suppose we haven’t grown up as much as we thought we had,” Harry suggested, realizing that the true test of his growth was this more than anything else.

“I suppose not,” Malfoy agreed. “Or perhaps we simply bring out the worst in one another.”

Harry laughed softly.

“You know, we really don’t know anything about one another, Malfoy,” he told the blond. The man opposite him looked up with a calculating expression.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Perhaps the reason that we have such a hard time getting along is because,” Harry suggested. “well, we don’t understand one another.”

“So what are you proposing?” Malfoy asked, and raised a hand to stop Harry’s immediate answer. “And please be concise this time.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“We should get to know each other,” he stated simply. “Tell me, what have you been up to since that last celebration night after the last battle? What have you been up to for the past nineteen years?”

Malfoy took a moment to consider him before licking his lips and leaning into the table. He tilted his blond head to Harry and suddenly they were only inches apart.

“Do you really want to know me, Potter?” his voice was silky and soft and, in every possible sense of the word, seductive. Harry found himself staring into the silver eyes and wondering about the lost years between the last time they had seen each other. He wondered and found that he was desperate to know. “Everything?”

“Yes,” Harry answered rather breathlessly. “Everything.”

----
A/N: Thanks to all of those who reviewed. I’ve been so worried about posting this one because it’s… well it’s going to deal with quite a few things that have always affected me deeply and I’m pouring out my heart and soul really. I feel the same way about this as I did Memoirs so I hope that’s a good sign!

If anyone has any questions about why I put Albus Severus in Slytherin, considering the letter he wrote, I will be very happy to answer. And also, things are going to get rocky. For everyone. I’ll try to post two chapters a day because these tend to be shorter so you can see what I mean.

I hope to bring new ideas to this kind of fic… at least ones that haven’t been done yet. I hope you like them!

Anywho, you already know that I live off of reviews, hehe. They are always infinitely appreciated. Love to all!