Mother Knows Best
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
13,783
Reviews:
66
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
13,783
Reviews:
66
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I don't own Harry Potter. I don't profit from writing this.
Presents from the Past
Title: Mother Knows Best – Presents from the Past
Author: Deviant
Fandom: Harry Potter – Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17, always.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. I don’t profit from writing this.
Warnings: Nothing too bad in this chapter, either.
Summary: After graduation and after the war, Harry and Draco meet by chance at St. Mungo’s while Draco is visiting his mother. A relationship ensues but secrets abound. How can Draco know what to do while his mother’s a mute? After all, mother knows best.
Mother Knows Best
Presents from the Past
“Why did Draco leave?” Hermione asked Harry when she went back in the room.
“He just needed to leave, he said,” Harry lied, covering up that he’d scared away what he wanted near him. He found himself staring at Hermione’s thin silver necklace as he thought about Draco and how he would win his attentions.
Harry could remember the things that had gone on around him while he was in the coma. He heard the conversation between his two best friends and Draco, about how Molly wanted him over for dinner. He heard the one the next day, when Hermione and Ron told his comatose body about how well dinner went. He remembered Draco coming in to visit him and kissing him on the forehead before leaving.
He knew that was what woke him up. He needed to be near the lips of the kisser, and he knew the kisser was Draco.
But then Draco had walked in smelling like cheap sex in his mother’s hospital room, and he was disgusted as well as hurt. He’d reacted badly, but all the same, Draco was just absolutely saturated in the scent of a whore!
Harry sighed when he felt Hermione shove him and asked, “What?”
“We were just asking you when you thought you’d be strong enough to leave the hospital,” Hermione repeated.
“How am I supposed to know?” Harry snapped at her. When her face contorted slightly, he frowned and apologized. “I’m sorry. I just want to get out of here and release a statement to the press and just be alone for a while.”
Hermione nodded in understanding and rested her hand on her belly, letting Ron tell Harry stories about his professional Quidditch practice, where Ron played Keeper for the Comets.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
One week later, December 24
“Hello, Mr. Potter,” said the short black man who had been helping Harry with his physical therapy for the past week.
“Hello, Curtis,” Harry said as he stood up and walked shakily to a slightly tweaked chair, where he sat down and pedaled while he and Curtis talked about the outside world, Curtis’s children, and what the man would do to celebrate Christmas.
“I think you’re just about ready to get out of here, Mr. Potter,” Curtis said with a smile before he left that day.
Twice every day, for two hours each time, Harry had to do whatever exercise Curtis told him to do so he could build up the strength in his body again. Almost all of his muscle had deteriorated during his months in a coma. And every day at noon, he could smell Draco passing by his floor in the elevator, but not once more did he smell sex on him.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
Another week later, seven months after the attack, December 31, 1997
At around 2:30 in the afternoon, a nurse grinned as she heard some commotion in one of the nearby rooms, knowing Harry Potter was finally leaving.
“Praise Merlin I’m out of there!” Harry almost shouted as he clenched his cane, his wand in his back pocket and his presents shrunk down to fit in his front pocket, and followed Hermione and Ron out of his room and to the elevator.
Hermione leaned against the button, panting slightly because of how near she was to birthing her infant (of which the two of them had elected to not know the gender) and waited for the door to open. Ron was supporting Harry instead of his wife because the hero was still shaky on his feet.
The door chimed open and Hermione glanced in to see if anyone was in there.
“Oh, good morning, Draco!” she said cheerily as she saw the blond standing alone, leaving the hospital after his visit with his mother. “How is she today?”
“Still no signs of recognition, no lucidity,” he answered sullenly. He didn’t even notice Harry and Ron standing behind the pregnant woman until she had boarded the elevator.
He nodded to Ron but ignored Harry, whose eyes flashed dangerously at him again.
“Lobby, Hermione?” he asked her and she nodded, groaning as she leaned against the wall. “When is the baby due?” he questioned.
“Oh, anytime now,” she said with her eyes shut. “I don’t think I could get any bigger.”
Hermione moaned in pain and then her eyes snapped open. “I think it’s due right now, love,” she whispered to Ron, before she started sliding down the wall.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
Harry and Draco sat by themselves in a waiting room as Hermione lay in a hospital room, in labor with Molly Weasley’s granddaughter, Ron at her side. They had been waiting three hours already, and Draco was getting impatient, as well as starving.
Harry heard his stomach growl and looked at him with a slight grin, “Want to go get something to eat?”
Draco nodded and stood up, extending an arm to Harry to help him stand. “St. Mungo’s café or lunch somewhere nearby?”
“Well, there’s a fish joint near here, I think,” Harry said, “but why don’t we save that for another time. Let’s just go to the café.”
The two of them walked towards the elevator and took it to the top floor.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
The choices were limited at the café, but each boy got a hot tea with caramel and a turkey sandwich. Draco followed Harry to a table, noticing for the first time the boy’s slender frame and wondered how on earth he’d become so powerful with such a small body. Maybe that meant . . . he shook his head and told himself, “No, no, that’s a schoolgirl’s wish, much like how they say men with bigger feet . . .”
Harry picked a table in the corner, dark and private, at least compared to the other tables, and sat down heavily, leaning his cane against the wall. “I hope I don’t need to use that for too much longer,” he told Draco as he unwrapped his sandwich.
Draco sipped his tea while he watched Harry eat. It was maddening. Two of Harry’s front teeth were quite a bit longer than his other teeth and they tore through his sandwich like it was nothing.
He bit into his own sandwich and the two of them ate their first meal together, dinner near 6:00 p.m. on the last day of the year.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
One month later.
“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said as he entered her hospital room. He looked around for Draco but didn’t see him. “Has your son been here yet today?” he asked her.
Checking the clock on the wall, he smiled, satisfied. It was still 11:50 in the morning. Draco always arrived right at noon. He sat down next to Narcissa and for the next ten minutes, told her one of his darkest stories, the one about his night as the year turned on December 31, only hours after he left the hospital.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Hello, mu- . . . What are you doing here, Potter?” Draco asked as he walked in on Harry Potter talking to his mother. “Come to mock her condition?”
“No,” Harry said as he finished his story to Narcissa. “. . . and since then, it’s been almost uncontrollable,” he whispered, almost out of earshot of Draco.
“She won’t respond,” Draco said softly.
“That’s what they said about me, too, you know,” Harry replied. He turned to Draco and smiled. “How’re you?”
“What do you want, Potter? What’s uncontrollable?” Draco asked as he took the chair on the other side of his mother’s bed.
“I just wanted to come see you and nothing, nothing, it’s alright. Does she like having her hair braided? Hermione taught me how to braid a couple weeks ago as a way to regain the strength in my hands.”
“Does who, mum?” Draco asked. He thought and then he smiled. “When I was a child, she always had it in a thick tope going down her back. It was beautiful. I’ve been trying to take care of her appearance the last few months, but she’s still lost in herself.”
Harry grabbed Narcissa’s shoulders and helped her into a sitting position and looked at Draco. “Let’s braid it for her. Maybe she’ll respond to it.”
Draco stared at his mother, who was just staring at her stuffed lion, and then he nodded, a tiny smile starting to appear on his lips. He sat next to his mother while Harry sat on the other side and supported her, and he held her hair very gently before separating it into three sections.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Do you think she likes it?” Draco asked Harry as they stood back to look at their work. Their hands brushed each other’s as they stood closer, but when their fingers touched, Draco jumped away, missing seeing his mother smile and look at the two of them.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“What are your plans today, Malfoy?” Harry asked as the two of them pet Narcissa’s new braid.
“Leave, young men.”
Harry jumped when he heard the voice of his past potions master. “Snape?” he asked incredulously.
Severus Snape had just walked through the door, his heavy black winter cloak billowing behind him. He slipped out of his cloaks and for the first time in his life, Harry saw Snape without robes on. Snape was wearing a deep purple, crushed velvet button-up shirt with a collar and long sleeves. He had a slender black belt holding up his fitted (as in, neither loose nor tight) black slacks. He had boots on to deal with the snow of an English February.
“’Lo, godfather,” Draco said softly as he brushed his knuckles against his mother’s cheek.
“Hello, Draco,” Severus said warmly, ignoring Potter’s presence. “Has she had any moments of clarity today?”
“Not yet,” Draco said, not letting his worries strangle his hopes. “I’m confident that she will return to herself, Severus. We just need to be patient and continue to coax her into speaking.”
“Yes,” Severus said distantly. He swept a strand of Narcissa’s long blonde hair away from her eyes and smiled into their milky depths. “I hope she returns to us soon.”
Severus put his arm around Draco’s shoulders and Harry growled lightly. The two Slytherins looked over at him just in time to see Harry licking blood away from a cut on his lip.
Severus Snape glared at Harry and reached into his pocket. He withdrew a small handful of galleons and handed them to Draco.
“Take this oaf out for a nice meal and both of you get out of here. Stay out until tomorrow,” he said coldly as he eyed Harry’s mouth for any more signs of something changing in the boy’s soul.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
Harry and Draco took the elevator to the lobby of St. Mungo’s silently, passing the endless white walls with no more than an apathetic glance from each of them. Harry was lost in a world of sexual fantasies, while Draco was lost in a world where Harry knew him inside and out, neither guessing they were in the same land.
When the elevator chimed and the doors opened to reveal the large wishing fountain in the lobby, both boys snapped out of their trances.
“Where do you want to eat, Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked with a seductive grin. His eyes raked over Draco’s body and took in all the details – the soft, straight white-blond hair atop a perfectly porcelain face, the eyes made of the softest blue, the slender neck showing the slightest hint of strength in the muscle sinews along the sides, the delicate but broad shoulders, the flat chest and abdomen, the slightly rounded butt, the fingers that tapered off gently, the arms that didn’t bulge, but had evident muscles underneath the layer of skin.
Draco shivered as he felt Harry’s eyes undress him. “How about at this new muggle restaurant?”
“Sure,” Harry said with a grin, “but I guess we’d better get to Gringotts to exchange our money for some pounds, do you think?”
“Maybe,” Draco said distractedly as he watched Harry’s mouth forming words, the teeth he’d been frightened of earlier hiding just out of sight. When he tore his eyes away from Harry’s mouth, he was surprised to find that they’d continued to move towards the Apparation point.
Harry pulled his deep black winter cloak on and wrapped a maroon scarf that Molly Weasley had knit for him one Christmas around his neck. He watched as Draco slowly laid his dark green cloak on a nearby chair and unraveled a long white scarf. He watched Draco’s slender white neck disappear under the white scarf and then held his hand out as Draco finished buttoning his cloak.
After an apprehensive look from Draco, the two of them Apparated to Diagon Alley, ever so slightly holding each other’s hands so neither got lost.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Mmm!” Harry moaned softly as he looked around and smelled the decadent caramel atop a child’s ice cream sundae. The two of them had landed in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He looked around and saw several familiar stores, as well as noting that it was heavily overcast today, but also that the wind was picking up. He pulled his winter cloak tighter around him and turned to Draco.
With a slight pout, Harry asked, “Wouldn’t you rather have something deep fried with a side of ice cream?”
Draco raised his eyebrow and shrugged, determined to not enjoy Harry’s company. “Sure, Potter,” he conceded, “let us get fat.”
The two of them entered the ice cream parlor and Harry ran up to the counter that displayed all the different flavors of ice cream. “Oh, oh, Draco, can I please get butterscotch? No, wait! I want mint chocolate chip. No, no! I want strawberry and peach! No, wait, wait, I want marshmallow! Oh, no, how do I decide?”
Harry looked up at the young man standing across from him, and with big eyes, he said, “I’ll take about half a scoop of every flavor in this cooler, please.”
Draco’s eyes widened and he chuckled a bit. “Wow, Potter,” he said with no trace of venom, “Will you be able to eat all that?”
“Yes,” Harry said distractedly as he gazed at the menu posted on the wall behind the ice cream cooler. “And I’ll take a double cheese burger, some onion rings, and a small tea, please.”
“Yes, sir,” said the man behind the counter, and then looked at Draco expectantly. “And you, sir?”
Draco sighed as he stared at the menu, too. “I think I’ll have a small garden salad and a tea. Oh, and some chicken strips.”
After paying and waiting on their hot foods, Draco led the way, sliding around the tables and chairs in the crowded parlor, to the door, which he opened with his elbow, and into the sunlight. He pulled his hood back with a grin and let the sun bounce off white blond hair. He looked around and snatched the only table he saw empty, one that was half in sun and half in shade.
Setting his salad, chicken, and tea on the table, Draco loosened his tie and sat in the seat that was in the sun, warming up more now that the sun was showing again.
When Harry nudged the door open with his foot, he almost dropped his food when he saw how bright the sunlight was. He had left his hood on inside the parlor so no one would recognize him and he was glad to still have it up. He glanced around for Draco, and as soon as he saw him, went to sit next to the English Adonis for lunch and a chat, resting in the shade as he devoured his 42 half scoops of different ice creams, leaving his burger and onion rings on the table with a heat-entrapment spell to keep them warm.
“So,” Draco began as Harry made himself comfortable. “Did you miss Christmas? You were still in the hospital, I believe, right?”
“Yeah,” Harry said with a bit of raspberry ice cream on his lip. His spoon sank into the orange scoop as he continued. “But it’s alright, I guess,” he said as he let the ice cream melt on his tongue. “I never really got Christmas before Hogwarts, and I guess it’s fitting that I don’t have it after Hogwarts, you see? I was out for New Year’s, though, you remember? Did you go to the Burrow for Yule?”
Draco shook his head no as he sipped at his hot tea. He tapped his wand against the cup a few times and at Harry’s questioning glance explained with one word – “Honey.”
“Draco? Your Yule?” Harry prompted.
The blond shrugged. “I stayed at the manor most of Christmas Eve, but Christmas Day, Severus and I went to St. Mungo’s to see mum and we each brought her some presents. We had to unwrap them, though. Bit depressing for Christmas, eh?” he joked as he kept his eyes down, watching the table.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I missed Christmas, yours was lousy, and I didn’t do much for New Year’s either. What’s the next holiday?”
“Valentine’s Day,” Draco said quietly with a light blush. Their eyes met for a flash before each boy focused on the table.
The two of them ate in silence for a few minutes, each back in his own world. When Draco looked back up at Harry, he saw the Gryffindor’s eyes undressing him again and he looked away immediately.
“I need to get back to the Manor to go through some letters I’ve gotten recently,” Draco said as he cleared his throat and stood. “Finances and the like. Important. I’ll see you around, Potter.”
Before Harry could even set his spoon down, Draco disappeared with a crack.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
After Harry finished his ice cream feast, he slid his burger, still wrapped in foil, in his pocket and held onto his onion rings as he munched them while walking. He made his way to Gringotts Wizarding Bank and stood in front of the huge doors, trying to will his magic to open them for him.
He was almost frustrated, but just as he thought the doors would never move, they slowly creaked open, obeying Harry’s silent, wandless magic.
He had been training prior to the attack on the Platform and had in fact become one of history’s most powerful wizards in the departments of wandless magic, silent magic, wandless and silent magic, and battle spells, including both offense and defense and both light and dark spells.
However, since his coma, a lot of his elitist training had gone away from him. Thankfully, though, his physical strength had all come back because of his inheritance at the turn of the year.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Good morning, Mr. Potter, Lord,” said Griphook, Harry’s finances manager. “How can I help you today?”
“I’d like to withdraw some money from my vault,” Harry explained with a smile. “And yes, I have my key. Did you combine all my vaults like I requested in my letter?”
“Yes, sir,” Griphook assured. He pushed a long scroll out to Harry. “It’s important you read this concerning your vaults. It is an inventory, to let you know what you have inherited and to also check for certain objects if you desire.”
Griphook handed him a set of seven scrolls and a good-sized key, solid gold and big enough that if he held it in his fist, either end stuck out just a little.
“These are the deeds to several manors, some land, and a castle you have inherited, Lord,” Griphook explained, “As well as your new key. Your new vault is number 0002 and if it pleases you, sir, it is a much shorter ride to the vault now, if you would like to go right away.”
Griphook smiled, or what would be interpreted as a smile from a goblin, at Harry’s eager nod, knowing that the Potter had grown to hate the tracks the carts took through the vaults.
“Can we go down there?” Harry asked. “I really just need to get a few galleons so I have some money this afternoon. I feel like wandering around Diagon Alley.”
The goblin and the wizard boarded one of the small carts in the belly of Gringotts and very soon after starting, stopped at Harry’s vault, 0002. Harry stood and told Griphook he’d only be a few minutes. He put his hand against the door to the vault and felt it prick the tip of his middle finger, testing his blood for the proper lineage.
The door agreed with his blood but instead of opening, consumed him into the vault door, gelling around him in a very science-fiction-like manner.
Harry shuddered when he finished traveling through the door. He looked around him and his jaw dropped.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
There was no way this was all his. He couldn’t even see the back of his vault. There were two thick torches burning eternally near the door and Harry grabbed one to light the rest of the vault. However, pull as he would, the torch wouldn’t come out of its metal bracing and Harry frowned.
“Lumos,” he whispered.
His wand didn’t light up. With a slight twist of fear in his gut, he walked forward a little, towards a table piled high with sickles and knuts.
As he stepped forward, another two torches appeared on the side walls, about three feet from the original torches. He walked forward again, pleased to see another pair appear. Then, just to test things, walked back to where he started, and watched as four of the six torches disappeared. With a sigh of relief, he walked forward, past the table with sickles, and towards the cabinets and shelves and trunks that filled the rest of the vault.
He saw the galleons and swept some into his pouch before he advanced again, to the front of one of the many jewelry boxes, each one identical. Made of mahogany with details etching in the frame and the drawers, each jewelry box was more like a dresser with a column of drawers and a mirror on top.
He pulled open the top drawer of this one of thirteen “jewelry dressers” and gasped. There were anywhere between 200 to 400 rings in the drawer. They were all solid metal, but not exactly plain. There were no gemstones in any of the rings, but some of them had etching, some had multiple metals twisted together, some were silver with gold accents, or vice versa. He shut the drawer and opened the second one down.
He was shocked to find even more rings, but these all had emeralds in them. Some were silver, some were gold, some were both, but they all had emeralds. Some had one big emerald, some had one small one, some had anywhere from 2 to 7 emeralds, some had emeralds all the way around the bands.
He opened the drawer below the emerald drawer to find the same situation, but this time with rubies.
He was in awe at so many rings. He went back to the top drawer and pulled out one silver ring. It was a band of three twisted strands of mythril with initials inside the band.
“This really is beautiful,” he said as he squinted at the initials. L. E. P.
“Mum?” he whispered. He smiled and slipped the ring into his pocket to continue to look around.
He found a large armoire full of old suits and robes, most likely wedding robes. There were about 15 mannequins with wedding dresses and veils modeled on them. There was one dress that was all lace and ruffles, another that was very sleek with a long train, another that was a perfect princess dress, complete with puffy sleeves, and yet another dress that had pearls and diamonds embroidered in the bodice and around the hems of the skirt. Some of the veils were short and fat, while others were very lengthy and elegant.
He walked up to the dress that was nearest him and peered at the small, yellowing tag that was tacked into the mannequin’s material. It said, Helena Ravenclaw, yr. 1002. Never got married, but this was her dress-to-be.
Harry’s mind spun as he looked around him. It seemed the entire history of the wizarding world was contained in his vault. Everything was in pristine condition and he wondered at how well all these ancient things were preserved. He looked over at the bookshelf and grabbed two books with the titles The Life of a Londoner Changed and Diary of a Mad Potter, but decided that the rest of the things would have to wait till another time. He had taken much of Griphook’s time already.
As Harry left the vault, he felt the walls and the things saying farewell to their new Lord.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
After Harry finished signing all the necessary paperwork and putting a blood-bond on his vault and many of his estates, he dropped his key in his pocket and picked up the scroll he had jotted some addresses on and the scroll containing his vault’s inventory. The first on his list of addresses was a place he was very interested in – Patriarchal Manor.
A/N: Hey, guys. Just letting you know I moved and don't have internet access just yet. I'm also in the middle of getting a laptop, so this whole...having all my files on this computer, needing to switch them to an external hard drive, and all that? Yeah, it's putting a crimp in my uploading, and even more bothersome to me, my editing. I apologize sincerely and I hope it doesn't make you stop reading or reviewing this story. I'll get everything straightened out as quickly as I can. Believe me, I don't like it either!
Review!
Author: Deviant
Fandom: Harry Potter – Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17, always.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter. I don’t profit from writing this.
Warnings: Nothing too bad in this chapter, either.
Summary: After graduation and after the war, Harry and Draco meet by chance at St. Mungo’s while Draco is visiting his mother. A relationship ensues but secrets abound. How can Draco know what to do while his mother’s a mute? After all, mother knows best.
Mother Knows Best
Presents from the Past
“Why did Draco leave?” Hermione asked Harry when she went back in the room.
“He just needed to leave, he said,” Harry lied, covering up that he’d scared away what he wanted near him. He found himself staring at Hermione’s thin silver necklace as he thought about Draco and how he would win his attentions.
Harry could remember the things that had gone on around him while he was in the coma. He heard the conversation between his two best friends and Draco, about how Molly wanted him over for dinner. He heard the one the next day, when Hermione and Ron told his comatose body about how well dinner went. He remembered Draco coming in to visit him and kissing him on the forehead before leaving.
He knew that was what woke him up. He needed to be near the lips of the kisser, and he knew the kisser was Draco.
But then Draco had walked in smelling like cheap sex in his mother’s hospital room, and he was disgusted as well as hurt. He’d reacted badly, but all the same, Draco was just absolutely saturated in the scent of a whore!
Harry sighed when he felt Hermione shove him and asked, “What?”
“We were just asking you when you thought you’d be strong enough to leave the hospital,” Hermione repeated.
“How am I supposed to know?” Harry snapped at her. When her face contorted slightly, he frowned and apologized. “I’m sorry. I just want to get out of here and release a statement to the press and just be alone for a while.”
Hermione nodded in understanding and rested her hand on her belly, letting Ron tell Harry stories about his professional Quidditch practice, where Ron played Keeper for the Comets.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
One week later, December 24
“Hello, Mr. Potter,” said the short black man who had been helping Harry with his physical therapy for the past week.
“Hello, Curtis,” Harry said as he stood up and walked shakily to a slightly tweaked chair, where he sat down and pedaled while he and Curtis talked about the outside world, Curtis’s children, and what the man would do to celebrate Christmas.
“I think you’re just about ready to get out of here, Mr. Potter,” Curtis said with a smile before he left that day.
Twice every day, for two hours each time, Harry had to do whatever exercise Curtis told him to do so he could build up the strength in his body again. Almost all of his muscle had deteriorated during his months in a coma. And every day at noon, he could smell Draco passing by his floor in the elevator, but not once more did he smell sex on him.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
Another week later, seven months after the attack, December 31, 1997
At around 2:30 in the afternoon, a nurse grinned as she heard some commotion in one of the nearby rooms, knowing Harry Potter was finally leaving.
“Praise Merlin I’m out of there!” Harry almost shouted as he clenched his cane, his wand in his back pocket and his presents shrunk down to fit in his front pocket, and followed Hermione and Ron out of his room and to the elevator.
Hermione leaned against the button, panting slightly because of how near she was to birthing her infant (of which the two of them had elected to not know the gender) and waited for the door to open. Ron was supporting Harry instead of his wife because the hero was still shaky on his feet.
The door chimed open and Hermione glanced in to see if anyone was in there.
“Oh, good morning, Draco!” she said cheerily as she saw the blond standing alone, leaving the hospital after his visit with his mother. “How is she today?”
“Still no signs of recognition, no lucidity,” he answered sullenly. He didn’t even notice Harry and Ron standing behind the pregnant woman until she had boarded the elevator.
He nodded to Ron but ignored Harry, whose eyes flashed dangerously at him again.
“Lobby, Hermione?” he asked her and she nodded, groaning as she leaned against the wall. “When is the baby due?” he questioned.
“Oh, anytime now,” she said with her eyes shut. “I don’t think I could get any bigger.”
Hermione moaned in pain and then her eyes snapped open. “I think it’s due right now, love,” she whispered to Ron, before she started sliding down the wall.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
Harry and Draco sat by themselves in a waiting room as Hermione lay in a hospital room, in labor with Molly Weasley’s granddaughter, Ron at her side. They had been waiting three hours already, and Draco was getting impatient, as well as starving.
Harry heard his stomach growl and looked at him with a slight grin, “Want to go get something to eat?”
Draco nodded and stood up, extending an arm to Harry to help him stand. “St. Mungo’s café or lunch somewhere nearby?”
“Well, there’s a fish joint near here, I think,” Harry said, “but why don’t we save that for another time. Let’s just go to the café.”
The two of them walked towards the elevator and took it to the top floor.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
The choices were limited at the café, but each boy got a hot tea with caramel and a turkey sandwich. Draco followed Harry to a table, noticing for the first time the boy’s slender frame and wondered how on earth he’d become so powerful with such a small body. Maybe that meant . . . he shook his head and told himself, “No, no, that’s a schoolgirl’s wish, much like how they say men with bigger feet . . .”
Harry picked a table in the corner, dark and private, at least compared to the other tables, and sat down heavily, leaning his cane against the wall. “I hope I don’t need to use that for too much longer,” he told Draco as he unwrapped his sandwich.
Draco sipped his tea while he watched Harry eat. It was maddening. Two of Harry’s front teeth were quite a bit longer than his other teeth and they tore through his sandwich like it was nothing.
He bit into his own sandwich and the two of them ate their first meal together, dinner near 6:00 p.m. on the last day of the year.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
One month later.
“Hello, Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said as he entered her hospital room. He looked around for Draco but didn’t see him. “Has your son been here yet today?” he asked her.
Checking the clock on the wall, he smiled, satisfied. It was still 11:50 in the morning. Draco always arrived right at noon. He sat down next to Narcissa and for the next ten minutes, told her one of his darkest stories, the one about his night as the year turned on December 31, only hours after he left the hospital.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Hello, mu- . . . What are you doing here, Potter?” Draco asked as he walked in on Harry Potter talking to his mother. “Come to mock her condition?”
“No,” Harry said as he finished his story to Narcissa. “. . . and since then, it’s been almost uncontrollable,” he whispered, almost out of earshot of Draco.
“She won’t respond,” Draco said softly.
“That’s what they said about me, too, you know,” Harry replied. He turned to Draco and smiled. “How’re you?”
“What do you want, Potter? What’s uncontrollable?” Draco asked as he took the chair on the other side of his mother’s bed.
“I just wanted to come see you and nothing, nothing, it’s alright. Does she like having her hair braided? Hermione taught me how to braid a couple weeks ago as a way to regain the strength in my hands.”
“Does who, mum?” Draco asked. He thought and then he smiled. “When I was a child, she always had it in a thick tope going down her back. It was beautiful. I’ve been trying to take care of her appearance the last few months, but she’s still lost in herself.”
Harry grabbed Narcissa’s shoulders and helped her into a sitting position and looked at Draco. “Let’s braid it for her. Maybe she’ll respond to it.”
Draco stared at his mother, who was just staring at her stuffed lion, and then he nodded, a tiny smile starting to appear on his lips. He sat next to his mother while Harry sat on the other side and supported her, and he held her hair very gently before separating it into three sections.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Do you think she likes it?” Draco asked Harry as they stood back to look at their work. Their hands brushed each other’s as they stood closer, but when their fingers touched, Draco jumped away, missing seeing his mother smile and look at the two of them.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“What are your plans today, Malfoy?” Harry asked as the two of them pet Narcissa’s new braid.
“Leave, young men.”
Harry jumped when he heard the voice of his past potions master. “Snape?” he asked incredulously.
Severus Snape had just walked through the door, his heavy black winter cloak billowing behind him. He slipped out of his cloaks and for the first time in his life, Harry saw Snape without robes on. Snape was wearing a deep purple, crushed velvet button-up shirt with a collar and long sleeves. He had a slender black belt holding up his fitted (as in, neither loose nor tight) black slacks. He had boots on to deal with the snow of an English February.
“’Lo, godfather,” Draco said softly as he brushed his knuckles against his mother’s cheek.
“Hello, Draco,” Severus said warmly, ignoring Potter’s presence. “Has she had any moments of clarity today?”
“Not yet,” Draco said, not letting his worries strangle his hopes. “I’m confident that she will return to herself, Severus. We just need to be patient and continue to coax her into speaking.”
“Yes,” Severus said distantly. He swept a strand of Narcissa’s long blonde hair away from her eyes and smiled into their milky depths. “I hope she returns to us soon.”
Severus put his arm around Draco’s shoulders and Harry growled lightly. The two Slytherins looked over at him just in time to see Harry licking blood away from a cut on his lip.
Severus Snape glared at Harry and reached into his pocket. He withdrew a small handful of galleons and handed them to Draco.
“Take this oaf out for a nice meal and both of you get out of here. Stay out until tomorrow,” he said coldly as he eyed Harry’s mouth for any more signs of something changing in the boy’s soul.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
Harry and Draco took the elevator to the lobby of St. Mungo’s silently, passing the endless white walls with no more than an apathetic glance from each of them. Harry was lost in a world of sexual fantasies, while Draco was lost in a world where Harry knew him inside and out, neither guessing they were in the same land.
When the elevator chimed and the doors opened to reveal the large wishing fountain in the lobby, both boys snapped out of their trances.
“Where do you want to eat, Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked with a seductive grin. His eyes raked over Draco’s body and took in all the details – the soft, straight white-blond hair atop a perfectly porcelain face, the eyes made of the softest blue, the slender neck showing the slightest hint of strength in the muscle sinews along the sides, the delicate but broad shoulders, the flat chest and abdomen, the slightly rounded butt, the fingers that tapered off gently, the arms that didn’t bulge, but had evident muscles underneath the layer of skin.
Draco shivered as he felt Harry’s eyes undress him. “How about at this new muggle restaurant?”
“Sure,” Harry said with a grin, “but I guess we’d better get to Gringotts to exchange our money for some pounds, do you think?”
“Maybe,” Draco said distractedly as he watched Harry’s mouth forming words, the teeth he’d been frightened of earlier hiding just out of sight. When he tore his eyes away from Harry’s mouth, he was surprised to find that they’d continued to move towards the Apparation point.
Harry pulled his deep black winter cloak on and wrapped a maroon scarf that Molly Weasley had knit for him one Christmas around his neck. He watched as Draco slowly laid his dark green cloak on a nearby chair and unraveled a long white scarf. He watched Draco’s slender white neck disappear under the white scarf and then held his hand out as Draco finished buttoning his cloak.
After an apprehensive look from Draco, the two of them Apparated to Diagon Alley, ever so slightly holding each other’s hands so neither got lost.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Mmm!” Harry moaned softly as he looked around and smelled the decadent caramel atop a child’s ice cream sundae. The two of them had landed in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He looked around and saw several familiar stores, as well as noting that it was heavily overcast today, but also that the wind was picking up. He pulled his winter cloak tighter around him and turned to Draco.
With a slight pout, Harry asked, “Wouldn’t you rather have something deep fried with a side of ice cream?”
Draco raised his eyebrow and shrugged, determined to not enjoy Harry’s company. “Sure, Potter,” he conceded, “let us get fat.”
The two of them entered the ice cream parlor and Harry ran up to the counter that displayed all the different flavors of ice cream. “Oh, oh, Draco, can I please get butterscotch? No, wait! I want mint chocolate chip. No, no! I want strawberry and peach! No, wait, wait, I want marshmallow! Oh, no, how do I decide?”
Harry looked up at the young man standing across from him, and with big eyes, he said, “I’ll take about half a scoop of every flavor in this cooler, please.”
Draco’s eyes widened and he chuckled a bit. “Wow, Potter,” he said with no trace of venom, “Will you be able to eat all that?”
“Yes,” Harry said distractedly as he gazed at the menu posted on the wall behind the ice cream cooler. “And I’ll take a double cheese burger, some onion rings, and a small tea, please.”
“Yes, sir,” said the man behind the counter, and then looked at Draco expectantly. “And you, sir?”
Draco sighed as he stared at the menu, too. “I think I’ll have a small garden salad and a tea. Oh, and some chicken strips.”
After paying and waiting on their hot foods, Draco led the way, sliding around the tables and chairs in the crowded parlor, to the door, which he opened with his elbow, and into the sunlight. He pulled his hood back with a grin and let the sun bounce off white blond hair. He looked around and snatched the only table he saw empty, one that was half in sun and half in shade.
Setting his salad, chicken, and tea on the table, Draco loosened his tie and sat in the seat that was in the sun, warming up more now that the sun was showing again.
When Harry nudged the door open with his foot, he almost dropped his food when he saw how bright the sunlight was. He had left his hood on inside the parlor so no one would recognize him and he was glad to still have it up. He glanced around for Draco, and as soon as he saw him, went to sit next to the English Adonis for lunch and a chat, resting in the shade as he devoured his 42 half scoops of different ice creams, leaving his burger and onion rings on the table with a heat-entrapment spell to keep them warm.
“So,” Draco began as Harry made himself comfortable. “Did you miss Christmas? You were still in the hospital, I believe, right?”
“Yeah,” Harry said with a bit of raspberry ice cream on his lip. His spoon sank into the orange scoop as he continued. “But it’s alright, I guess,” he said as he let the ice cream melt on his tongue. “I never really got Christmas before Hogwarts, and I guess it’s fitting that I don’t have it after Hogwarts, you see? I was out for New Year’s, though, you remember? Did you go to the Burrow for Yule?”
Draco shook his head no as he sipped at his hot tea. He tapped his wand against the cup a few times and at Harry’s questioning glance explained with one word – “Honey.”
“Draco? Your Yule?” Harry prompted.
The blond shrugged. “I stayed at the manor most of Christmas Eve, but Christmas Day, Severus and I went to St. Mungo’s to see mum and we each brought her some presents. We had to unwrap them, though. Bit depressing for Christmas, eh?” he joked as he kept his eyes down, watching the table.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “I missed Christmas, yours was lousy, and I didn’t do much for New Year’s either. What’s the next holiday?”
“Valentine’s Day,” Draco said quietly with a light blush. Their eyes met for a flash before each boy focused on the table.
The two of them ate in silence for a few minutes, each back in his own world. When Draco looked back up at Harry, he saw the Gryffindor’s eyes undressing him again and he looked away immediately.
“I need to get back to the Manor to go through some letters I’ve gotten recently,” Draco said as he cleared his throat and stood. “Finances and the like. Important. I’ll see you around, Potter.”
Before Harry could even set his spoon down, Draco disappeared with a crack.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
After Harry finished his ice cream feast, he slid his burger, still wrapped in foil, in his pocket and held onto his onion rings as he munched them while walking. He made his way to Gringotts Wizarding Bank and stood in front of the huge doors, trying to will his magic to open them for him.
He was almost frustrated, but just as he thought the doors would never move, they slowly creaked open, obeying Harry’s silent, wandless magic.
He had been training prior to the attack on the Platform and had in fact become one of history’s most powerful wizards in the departments of wandless magic, silent magic, wandless and silent magic, and battle spells, including both offense and defense and both light and dark spells.
However, since his coma, a lot of his elitist training had gone away from him. Thankfully, though, his physical strength had all come back because of his inheritance at the turn of the year.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
“Good morning, Mr. Potter, Lord,” said Griphook, Harry’s finances manager. “How can I help you today?”
“I’d like to withdraw some money from my vault,” Harry explained with a smile. “And yes, I have my key. Did you combine all my vaults like I requested in my letter?”
“Yes, sir,” Griphook assured. He pushed a long scroll out to Harry. “It’s important you read this concerning your vaults. It is an inventory, to let you know what you have inherited and to also check for certain objects if you desire.”
Griphook handed him a set of seven scrolls and a good-sized key, solid gold and big enough that if he held it in his fist, either end stuck out just a little.
“These are the deeds to several manors, some land, and a castle you have inherited, Lord,” Griphook explained, “As well as your new key. Your new vault is number 0002 and if it pleases you, sir, it is a much shorter ride to the vault now, if you would like to go right away.”
Griphook smiled, or what would be interpreted as a smile from a goblin, at Harry’s eager nod, knowing that the Potter had grown to hate the tracks the carts took through the vaults.
“Can we go down there?” Harry asked. “I really just need to get a few galleons so I have some money this afternoon. I feel like wandering around Diagon Alley.”
The goblin and the wizard boarded one of the small carts in the belly of Gringotts and very soon after starting, stopped at Harry’s vault, 0002. Harry stood and told Griphook he’d only be a few minutes. He put his hand against the door to the vault and felt it prick the tip of his middle finger, testing his blood for the proper lineage.
The door agreed with his blood but instead of opening, consumed him into the vault door, gelling around him in a very science-fiction-like manner.
Harry shuddered when he finished traveling through the door. He looked around him and his jaw dropped.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
There was no way this was all his. He couldn’t even see the back of his vault. There were two thick torches burning eternally near the door and Harry grabbed one to light the rest of the vault. However, pull as he would, the torch wouldn’t come out of its metal bracing and Harry frowned.
“Lumos,” he whispered.
His wand didn’t light up. With a slight twist of fear in his gut, he walked forward a little, towards a table piled high with sickles and knuts.
As he stepped forward, another two torches appeared on the side walls, about three feet from the original torches. He walked forward again, pleased to see another pair appear. Then, just to test things, walked back to where he started, and watched as four of the six torches disappeared. With a sigh of relief, he walked forward, past the table with sickles, and towards the cabinets and shelves and trunks that filled the rest of the vault.
He saw the galleons and swept some into his pouch before he advanced again, to the front of one of the many jewelry boxes, each one identical. Made of mahogany with details etching in the frame and the drawers, each jewelry box was more like a dresser with a column of drawers and a mirror on top.
He pulled open the top drawer of this one of thirteen “jewelry dressers” and gasped. There were anywhere between 200 to 400 rings in the drawer. They were all solid metal, but not exactly plain. There were no gemstones in any of the rings, but some of them had etching, some had multiple metals twisted together, some were silver with gold accents, or vice versa. He shut the drawer and opened the second one down.
He was shocked to find even more rings, but these all had emeralds in them. Some were silver, some were gold, some were both, but they all had emeralds. Some had one big emerald, some had one small one, some had anywhere from 2 to 7 emeralds, some had emeralds all the way around the bands.
He opened the drawer below the emerald drawer to find the same situation, but this time with rubies.
He was in awe at so many rings. He went back to the top drawer and pulled out one silver ring. It was a band of three twisted strands of mythril with initials inside the band.
“This really is beautiful,” he said as he squinted at the initials. L. E. P.
“Mum?” he whispered. He smiled and slipped the ring into his pocket to continue to look around.
He found a large armoire full of old suits and robes, most likely wedding robes. There were about 15 mannequins with wedding dresses and veils modeled on them. There was one dress that was all lace and ruffles, another that was very sleek with a long train, another that was a perfect princess dress, complete with puffy sleeves, and yet another dress that had pearls and diamonds embroidered in the bodice and around the hems of the skirt. Some of the veils were short and fat, while others were very lengthy and elegant.
He walked up to the dress that was nearest him and peered at the small, yellowing tag that was tacked into the mannequin’s material. It said, Helena Ravenclaw, yr. 1002. Never got married, but this was her dress-to-be.
Harry’s mind spun as he looked around him. It seemed the entire history of the wizarding world was contained in his vault. Everything was in pristine condition and he wondered at how well all these ancient things were preserved. He looked over at the bookshelf and grabbed two books with the titles The Life of a Londoner Changed and Diary of a Mad Potter, but decided that the rest of the things would have to wait till another time. He had taken much of Griphook’s time already.
As Harry left the vault, he felt the walls and the things saying farewell to their new Lord.
[-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-]
After Harry finished signing all the necessary paperwork and putting a blood-bond on his vault and many of his estates, he dropped his key in his pocket and picked up the scroll he had jotted some addresses on and the scroll containing his vault’s inventory. The first on his list of addresses was a place he was very interested in – Patriarchal Manor.
A/N: Hey, guys. Just letting you know I moved and don't have internet access just yet. I'm also in the middle of getting a laptop, so this whole...having all my files on this computer, needing to switch them to an external hard drive, and all that? Yeah, it's putting a crimp in my uploading, and even more bothersome to me, my editing. I apologize sincerely and I hope it doesn't make you stop reading or reviewing this story. I'll get everything straightened out as quickly as I can. Believe me, I don't like it either!
Review!