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suki_blueTitle: Parity Transformations
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.
Beta done by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amejisuto. Thank you, darling.
A/N: Compliant with all canon up to HBP so there may be spoilers for any of the first six books. As this fic is already planned out in full, it will not be compliant with book 7 and will therefore contain NO SPOILERS.
Previous Chapters: HERE
Draco Malfoy admired his reflection in the mirror. He looked stunning, if he did say so himself. He couldn’t entirely say he felt comfortable, though, at least not in the literal sense. He wasn’t used to the high collar and the tight trousers. The cloak was annoying and heels just weren’t his thing anymore. He longed for his Levis.
‘Wow,’ Harry said. ‘You’ll be on the Cover of Witch Weekly if you’re not careful.’
Draco gave him a brilliant smile. ‘Do you really think I look okay?’
‘Well obviously I prefer you with fewer clothes, but apart from that you look great. More than great.’ Harry’s hands found their way onto Draco’s shirt, around his waist, smoothing over his hips …
‘Stop that,’ Draco said, stepping back. ‘The last thing I need is to get an erection in these trousers. There isn’t room.’
Draco had been wide awake all night, half worrying and half excited. He wasn’t used to throwing his weight around to such an extent anymore and the thought of it was like insulin to a diabetic.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come? I could leave the boys with Molly. They’d be fine and I could wait outside if you wanted to go to the meeting by yourself, I wouldn’t mind.’
Draco tilted his head and leaned in. ‘No need. I’ll be fine.’
‘I just worry.’
‘I know.’ They kissed. ‘As would I if our positions were reversed.’
‘Positions?’
An hour later Draco said goodbye to the children and left Harry to his perverted thoughts. He Apparated to Charring Cross and entered the Leaky Cauldron. Hush immediately swept across the pub as heads turned and eyes looked him up and down.
He closed the door behind him and used those few moments to gather his thoughts, wits and confidence, and to remember why he was doing this.
When he turned to face everyone, it was with an air of arrogance and superiority. ‘Yes?’ he asked. ‘Something wrong? Yes, that’s right, this is what a clean person looks like.’ He waited until they all began to look away then he walked confidently through the crowds and back into his world.
Diagon Alley was just as he remembered it: dirty and claustrophobic. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. Parchment, ink, mothballs and animal dung, the scent of a typical wizard. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it was a familiar one. He glanced at the cobbled street and pictured himself walking alongside his mother and father, holding their hands.
*****
‘Mother, can I have an owl?
‘Not until you go to school.’
‘That’s years! Goyle’s got an owl, why can’t I have one?’
‘Draco, you don’t need an owl. You’re too young. Honestly, pre-school children with owls, whatever next, Lucius?’
‘I want one!’
Draco’s father squatted down in front of him, his gloved hands resting on Draco’s shoulders. ‘That’s enough. Your mother has told you no.’
‘Yes, Sir,’ Draco said reluctantly.
‘But how about something better? How about a snake?’
Draco gasped and threw his arms around his father. ‘Thank you!’
*****
A witch bumped his shoulder as she passed, a squat, blob of a woman. Draco gave her the dirtiest look he could muster and turned back to face his future.
Diagon Alley stretched into the distance, the ground mostly obscured by milling people, talking, chattering, shouting, going about their business with sweet obliviousness. Draco Malfoy was about to change their world forever; they just didn’t know it yet.
Draco walked with his chin held high. His strides were confident and he stared straight ahead. The crowds parted and let him though and chatter turned to murmured speculation and whispered fear.
And they would fear him, just as they’d feared his father.
Heads turned and eyes stared. Children pointed and their parents pulled them away. Ludicrous. Such a reaction to a person who had sought retreat and was only back because The Power That Be had dragged him back against his will.
He passed Flourish and Blotts and nodded a greeting to a tall wizard in tall hat with a tall cane. He looked like someone his father would have made a point to know. The confused man nodded back.
Madam Malkin’s was gone and in its place was a pet shop. Brightly coloured fish swam in a tank outside; they changed colour and fizzled with electricity. As he passed, a big blue fish blinked at him and changed to violet as its spiked tail swished against the glass and rocked the tank. Kasen would love one of those, Draco thought.
Gringotts was its usual magnificent self and Draco resisted going inside. There would be time for that later. Instead he stopped and bowed to a Goblin he recognised and enquired after his health and fortune. The crowds stared angrily and Draco turned and raised an eyebrow in question, daring anyone to come forward from the masses and challenge him one on one.
No-one did.
But two words echoed across the crowds over and over again and it got louder as the crowd grew and surged.
DeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEater
Draco walked faster. The crowd was puffing up, readying, rising up. There weren’t any pitchforks but Draco wouldn’t have been surprised by them. He kept his head high and walked with every bit of dwindling confidence he had.
‘You’re not welcome here, Death Eater!’ one single voice, daring to be heard above the others, said.
Draco had two choices: carry on walking and let this cretin publicly label him or turn around and stand his ground. He chose the option that would make his father proud.
‘And you are?’ he said to an angry wizard with a bright purple face and a large white cat at his ankles. ‘No-one significant, I suspect,’ he went on. ‘Remove yourself from my presence and I’ll consider forgetting your face.’
‘We don’t want your sort around here so I suggest you clear off before there’s trouble.’
‘Trouble? From you, I assume?’
‘Bloody right from me.’
‘I see. So you’re threatening me? And in front of all these witnesses, tut, tut. And what, may I ask, did I do to deserve such treatment?’
The man opened his mouth and closed it again when he couldn’t think of an answer.
‘I thought so,’ Draco said. ‘Good day.’ He walked away feeling pleased with himself and it was only when he’d put a fair distance between himself and the angry mob that he heard the wizard bravely shout, ‘Tosser!’
‘The manners of some people,’ he said lightly, shaking his head in good humour as he passed an elderly witch and her friends. ‘I do like your hat. Very … abstract. The monkey tails are a nice touch!’
The witch grinned a black and white grin. ‘Thank you, kind sir. Thank you indeed.’ Then to her friends, ‘Such a nice boy. Who was that?’
At the end of Diagon Alley, past Ollivander’s, was Parkinson & Sons, a solicitors office that occupied a miniscule building that was wedged between two huge shops like a single piece of cucumber in a door-stop sandwich. A tiny brass plaque next to the door stated the business name and the solicitors working inside. It was a select establishment. You were either a life-long client going back generations, or you were nothing.
Draco entered without knocking and stood expectantly in front of the receptionist’s desk.
‘Do you have an appointment?’ the witch asked, dabbing at a spot of what appeared to be mayonnaise on her blouse.
‘Of course.’
‘And you are?’
Draco waited and the witch continued to dab, her serviette smearing the mess rather than soaking it up. When she eventually realised she hadn’t been answered, she put down the tissue and looked up.
‘Who do you think I am?’ Draco said.
‘Erm …’ And then her eyes widened with recognition. ‘You’re … Okay, if you’d just like to wait—’
‘I don’t wait.’
‘No, no, of course not, follow me,’ she said quickly.
She got out of her chair but failed to gain any height. Draco followed her along the corridor and up the stairs, along another corridor and then back down a different flight of stairs. The next corridor curved around in a circle and they arrived back at the reception desk and a door opposite that Draco hadn’t noticed the first time.
‘Security measures,’ she said apologetically, and then knocked and entered the room. ‘Mr Malfoy to see you.’
‘Excellent. Bring him in, please.’
Draco swept into the room, a perfect copy of his father, sleek, poised, confident.
‘Hello, Draco. I wondered when I’d be seeing you again. You certainly kept me waiting.’
‘Pansy? Oh bollocks.’
*****
Pansy Parkinson handed Draco a piece of parchment. ‘Are you over the shock yet?’ she asked, handing him her quill. ‘Sign there. And there. I can’t believe you didn’t realise it was me.’
‘The sign said Parkinson and Son,’ Draco pointed out.
‘Yes, I keep meaning to fix that. Actually, your appointment was with Daddy, but I arranged an overseas crisis for him so I could see you instead. Draco, you’ve never once written to me since school.’
Draco had no doubt that if anyone could arrange an overseas crisis at one days notice, it was Pansy Parkinson. It made him remember the good times and he reached across the desk for her hand. ‘Oh Pansy, I have missed you.’
‘Not enough to owl me, though,’ she said, twining their fingers together.
‘It was difficult. I needed to make a clean break of it. If it helps, I was sorry to leave you behind. Nobody quite understood me like you did.’
She patted his hand and then extracted her own to reach for a tissue. ‘You were complicated, but not too complicated for me,’ she said as she dabbed at her eyes. ‘I hope you’ve not replaced me.’
‘Of course not! You were, and always will be, the one fag hag in my life.’
‘I should hope so. I gave you years of my life, Draco Malfoy. I expect recompense when we’re all done with this. And speaking of, how quickly do you want this to happen?’
‘Quickly. Or quicker, if possible.’
‘And you’re absolutely sure you want to do this? It’s a lot to loose.’
‘It’s not loss. It’s a means to an end.’
Pansy jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands. ‘This is so exciting! It’s been months since I’ve taken anyone to the cleaners. Daddy says I always go too far.’
‘Do you really think we can do this?’ Draco said. He looked around Pansy’s office, at her opulent furnishings, and academic certificates adorning the walls. In another world, in another dimension and in another universe, this could have been his life.
‘Oh absolutely. It’s just a matter of how much it will take.’
‘Well, offer the money first, the threats can come later. But not too much later. Let me know when they’re ready to admit defeat and I’ll begin stage two.’
‘About stage two,’ Pansy said, sitting back down in a movement that was positively sulky, ‘don’t you think you’re being a little … overly generous. You could achieve much more for so much less.’
‘Nonsense. I want to do it. I want there to be a difference between me and my father, and even if the world doesn’t know it, this is that difference. My gift will come from the heart.’
Pansy looked moved for no more than a moment. Then she picked up her quill and countersigned Draco’s parchments. ‘Potter did this to you. He made you all … queer.’
Draco laughed. ‘I think I did that all by myself. Although he does give me a hand now and again.’
The quill fell from Pansy’s hand. ‘It’s true? You and Potter? I thought the Prophet was exaggerating, as usual. You’re actually buggering him?’
‘Pansy!’
‘I’ll take that as a yes. You’re a sly one, Draco, I’ll give you that.’
‘There’s nothing sly about it. We met, our children clashed nearly as badly as we did, and we had to sort it out. It grew from there.’
‘Children. Shudder. And what did it grow into? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love.’
‘No comment.’
‘I’m not a reporter so answer the question properly.’
Draco thought about his life pre and post Potter. There was no doubt that Harry had filled a hole in his heart. But did he really love him?
‘I … I’m doing this for him. All of it. I could just take my son and leave, disappear like I did the first time because when I’m out of sight I’m eventually out of mind. Harry doesn’t have that luxury. He needs a much bigger fix.’
‘I see.’ Pansy looked a little green. ‘How … sickeningly romantic. You’ll be marrying him next.’
‘Marrying? I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Well don’t. That was just me putting unnecessary thoughts in your head. Clear them out at once. We have bigger things afoot. Now, for the last time, are you absolutely sure?’
For Kasen. For James.
For Harry.
‘Absolutely,’ Draco said. ‘Do it. Send the owls.’
Pansy nodded, stood and held out her arms. ‘Good luck,’ she said.
‘I don’t think I’ll need it with you on my side.’ Draco closed his eyes and held his friend tightly. ‘My beloved Pansy.’
‘My Draco.’ She pulled away from him. ‘And you’d better tell Potter that. You’re mine, not his.’
‘I’ll tell him.’
‘Good. Now shoo before I get all girly and emotional.’
If there was anyone that would fight his corner and do his dirty work, it was Pansy. Her eyes were watery, but behind the unshed tears was determination and loyalty. She wouldn’t let him down.
Draco kissed her goodbye and Disapparated.
******
Apparating into the middle of the Weasleys’s front lawn wasn’t one of Draco’s best plans. He was instantly blinded by cameras and flummoxed by a hundred shouted questions.
‘Get in here, you bloody idiot!’
Something tall and ginger grabbed him and hauled him into the house.
‘Mind the robes, honestly.’
‘Draco, where have you been?’ Harry walked towards him, his face taut and worried, but the children overtook him and Draco was presented with several works of fine art and his very own used paintbrush.
‘I told you this morning, my solicitor.’
‘For seven hours?! Tell me what’s going on?’
‘Yeah, Daddy,’ Kasen said, ‘Tell us what’s going on and when dinner is.’
‘You haven’t eaten?’ Draco asked him.
‘No, your kid’s been starving waiting for you.’
‘Ah, Ron. I thought I heard an IQ dripping.’
‘Shut it, Malfoy. You’ve got some explaining to do.’
‘To you? I seriously doubt it.’
‘That’s enough!’ Harry tried not to shout but failed. ‘Kids, why don’t you go tell Molly we’re ready to eat. Ron, back off for a minute. Draco, come with me.’
Harry led him to an empty bedroom and sat them both on the bed. It wasn’t a very good bed and Draco wondered how long they could sit on it before the end sloped enough for them to end up on the floor. Not that it would be a bad thing …
‘On a scale of one to ten,’ Harry said, ‘how evil have you been today?’
Draco sighed and looked over at a torn poster of the Weird Sisters. ‘Well, considering I’m usually a two, perhaps three, I’ve been evil up to maybe a four.’
Harry nodded. ‘Seriously, you’re up to something. What is it?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about.’
‘Bad luck, then, because I am worried.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you went to see your solicitor and didn’t come back for seven hours.’
‘I told you I’d be a while!’
‘It doesn’t take seven hours to move some money about!’
‘Oh fine, have it your way,’ Draco said, getting up and flouncing over to the window. He crossed his arms and stared out at the reporters. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’
‘A surprise?’ Harry said. ‘For me?’
‘Of course for you.’ Draco turned around. ‘Oh don’t make me spoil it, please, Harry.’ He sat back down on the bed. ‘I promise I haven’t done anything remotely illegal or immoral. You do believe me, don’t you?’
Harry sighed and took Draco’s face in his hands. ‘Of course I believe you. I was just worried. I don’t like being worried. It makes me …’
‘Arsey.’
‘Yeah. You were in the Evening Prophet again. They got a picture of the crowds of Diagon Alley parting to let you through.’
‘Really? Did it look impressive?’
‘Very. And, according the Prophet, sinister.’
‘Sinister? Is that what they actually said? Oh my, I think I like that.’
‘Stop it,’ Harry said, but he was smiling. ‘Let’s have some dinner.’
*****
Dinner was an awkward affair with only the children fully at ease. Ron sulked at the end of the table, while Hermione chatted inanely about Ministry matters to Mr Weasley who had nothing more constructive to say than, ‘Well, hasn’t it been a lovely gay, uh, day?’
When the ordeal was over, Harry asked Draco to floo back with the children while he stayed to talk to Molly who had apparently been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the day.
‘Daddy, can I have a Unicorn?’ Kasen asked as they stepped from Harry’s fireplace.
‘Certainly not.’
Both Kasen and James looked rather disappointed, as though Kasen asking had been a genius plot they’d been working on all day.
‘But how about another fish? A special fish.’
The boys looked at each other, their faces lighting up. ‘Yes please!’ they both said.
‘Excellent. But shush, don’t tell Harry. We just have to wait for a few … well, awhile. But then, when everything is ready, we’ll get your fish. How about that?’
They nodded eagerly and Draco ruffled their hair and wandered upstairs in an almost dreamlike state. He unbuttoned his shirt as he walked and imagined what it was going to be like, when Pansy called for the final time, when the plan was at its peak and he’d got his way. Oh the things he was going to show Kasen, and Hogwarts was top of the list. Draco could just see his little face alight with wonder, just like his was when his father had first shown him.
*****
Draco looked around him, at the polished floors and the high ceilings, the suits of armour and ancient sculptures. A hundred painted eyes watched him and a ghost drifted in the distance.
‘My instincts say Durmstrang, but I expect Narcissa will get her way.’
‘I don’t want to go to Durmstrang!’ Draco said. ‘I like Hogwarts!’
His father ignored him so Draco turned to the man on his other side. ‘I like Hogwarts,’ he repeated more calmly. ‘I expect it’s the best. It is, isn’t it?’
He didn’t get an answer so he let go of his father’s hand and ran ahead to catch one of the staircases just as it moved. He gripped the banister tightly as his father had advised and laughed as it swung round.
‘Who are you, then?’ said a tall ginger-haired boy waiting on the connecting platform.
‘Draco Malfoy. Who are you? Your hair is a funny colour.’
‘Draco, come away, please.’
He considered disobeying, but only for a moment. He grinned up at the strange looking boy and then jumped onto the next staircase. He rode them for what seemed like hours and was hungry by the time he was finished.
‘Perhaps consider Durmstrang.’
‘Nonsense. Narcissa won’t have it.’
‘Perhaps she could be persuaded. The fame and notoriety of Hogwarts could be destructive to a young boy’s education.’
His father laughed and took Draco’s sweaty hand the moment he held it out. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to put me off. Is there something I should know?’
The other man said nothing so Draco looked up at his father, at the amused smile as it slowly slid away.
‘Severus? What have you to tell me?’
‘Nothing. It’s just that The Ministry has little to do with the school these days, no influence. Durmstrang is much more tightly run. I thought you should know.’
It was the first time in Draco’s life that he’d detected a lie, but by the time he was looking a giant squid in the eye, he’d forgotten.
*****
Harry returned within the hour, looking pale and tired. ‘There were tears,’ he announced, and then pounced on a packet of chocolate biscuits.
‘Who? You?’
‘Molly. I know she didn’t think I’d be single forever, but me moving on just feels like she’s lost a little bit more of Ginny.’
‘I hope that wasn’t what she said. That selfish wench!’
‘Don’t be a bastard. She was upset.’
‘That doesn’t mean she can make you feel guilty about it.’
‘That wasn’t her intention. And if it makes you feel better, she said you were a very handsome choice and she’d have gone for you herself if she’d been thirty years younger, despite your terrible reputation and villainous haircut.’
Draco wasn’t sure if he was flattered or disgusted so he pushed all thoughts of either to the back of his head and concentrated on making Harry feel better. He ran him a bath, put the children to bed, held him close and kissed him slowly. And when they made love, he relinquished all the control he could and let Harry go his own way.
It was only the second time in his life that he’d allowed anyone that kind of power over him and, as Harry slid inside, Draco allowed himself to hope this was forever.
TBC …
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luciusfqf :: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
luciusfqf
because Lucius needs love too!
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.
Beta done by
amejisuto. Thank you, darling.A/N: Compliant with all canon up to HBP so there may be spoilers for any of the first six books. As this fic is already planned out in full, it will not be compliant with book 7 and will therefore contain NO SPOILERS.
Previous Chapters: HERE
Draco Malfoy admired his reflection in the mirror. He looked stunning, if he did say so himself. He couldn’t entirely say he felt comfortable, though, at least not in the literal sense. He wasn’t used to the high collar and the tight trousers. The cloak was annoying and heels just weren’t his thing anymore. He longed for his Levis.
‘Wow,’ Harry said. ‘You’ll be on the Cover of Witch Weekly if you’re not careful.’
Draco gave him a brilliant smile. ‘Do you really think I look okay?’
‘Well obviously I prefer you with fewer clothes, but apart from that you look great. More than great.’ Harry’s hands found their way onto Draco’s shirt, around his waist, smoothing over his hips …
‘Stop that,’ Draco said, stepping back. ‘The last thing I need is to get an erection in these trousers. There isn’t room.’
Draco had been wide awake all night, half worrying and half excited. He wasn’t used to throwing his weight around to such an extent anymore and the thought of it was like insulin to a diabetic.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come? I could leave the boys with Molly. They’d be fine and I could wait outside if you wanted to go to the meeting by yourself, I wouldn’t mind.’
Draco tilted his head and leaned in. ‘No need. I’ll be fine.’
‘I just worry.’
‘I know.’ They kissed. ‘As would I if our positions were reversed.’
‘Positions?’
An hour later Draco said goodbye to the children and left Harry to his perverted thoughts. He Apparated to Charring Cross and entered the Leaky Cauldron. Hush immediately swept across the pub as heads turned and eyes looked him up and down.
He closed the door behind him and used those few moments to gather his thoughts, wits and confidence, and to remember why he was doing this.
When he turned to face everyone, it was with an air of arrogance and superiority. ‘Yes?’ he asked. ‘Something wrong? Yes, that’s right, this is what a clean person looks like.’ He waited until they all began to look away then he walked confidently through the crowds and back into his world.
Diagon Alley was just as he remembered it: dirty and claustrophobic. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. Parchment, ink, mothballs and animal dung, the scent of a typical wizard. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but it was a familiar one. He glanced at the cobbled street and pictured himself walking alongside his mother and father, holding their hands.
*****
‘Mother, can I have an owl?
‘Not until you go to school.’
‘That’s years! Goyle’s got an owl, why can’t I have one?’
‘Draco, you don’t need an owl. You’re too young. Honestly, pre-school children with owls, whatever next, Lucius?’
‘I want one!’
Draco’s father squatted down in front of him, his gloved hands resting on Draco’s shoulders. ‘That’s enough. Your mother has told you no.’
‘Yes, Sir,’ Draco said reluctantly.
‘But how about something better? How about a snake?’
Draco gasped and threw his arms around his father. ‘Thank you!’
*****
A witch bumped his shoulder as she passed, a squat, blob of a woman. Draco gave her the dirtiest look he could muster and turned back to face his future.
Diagon Alley stretched into the distance, the ground mostly obscured by milling people, talking, chattering, shouting, going about their business with sweet obliviousness. Draco Malfoy was about to change their world forever; they just didn’t know it yet.
Draco walked with his chin held high. His strides were confident and he stared straight ahead. The crowds parted and let him though and chatter turned to murmured speculation and whispered fear.
And they would fear him, just as they’d feared his father.
Heads turned and eyes stared. Children pointed and their parents pulled them away. Ludicrous. Such a reaction to a person who had sought retreat and was only back because The Power That Be had dragged him back against his will.
He passed Flourish and Blotts and nodded a greeting to a tall wizard in tall hat with a tall cane. He looked like someone his father would have made a point to know. The confused man nodded back.
Madam Malkin’s was gone and in its place was a pet shop. Brightly coloured fish swam in a tank outside; they changed colour and fizzled with electricity. As he passed, a big blue fish blinked at him and changed to violet as its spiked tail swished against the glass and rocked the tank. Kasen would love one of those, Draco thought.
Gringotts was its usual magnificent self and Draco resisted going inside. There would be time for that later. Instead he stopped and bowed to a Goblin he recognised and enquired after his health and fortune. The crowds stared angrily and Draco turned and raised an eyebrow in question, daring anyone to come forward from the masses and challenge him one on one.
No-one did.
But two words echoed across the crowds over and over again and it got louder as the crowd grew and surged.
DeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEaterDeathEater
Draco walked faster. The crowd was puffing up, readying, rising up. There weren’t any pitchforks but Draco wouldn’t have been surprised by them. He kept his head high and walked with every bit of dwindling confidence he had.
‘You’re not welcome here, Death Eater!’ one single voice, daring to be heard above the others, said.
Draco had two choices: carry on walking and let this cretin publicly label him or turn around and stand his ground. He chose the option that would make his father proud.
‘And you are?’ he said to an angry wizard with a bright purple face and a large white cat at his ankles. ‘No-one significant, I suspect,’ he went on. ‘Remove yourself from my presence and I’ll consider forgetting your face.’
‘We don’t want your sort around here so I suggest you clear off before there’s trouble.’
‘Trouble? From you, I assume?’
‘Bloody right from me.’
‘I see. So you’re threatening me? And in front of all these witnesses, tut, tut. And what, may I ask, did I do to deserve such treatment?’
The man opened his mouth and closed it again when he couldn’t think of an answer.
‘I thought so,’ Draco said. ‘Good day.’ He walked away feeling pleased with himself and it was only when he’d put a fair distance between himself and the angry mob that he heard the wizard bravely shout, ‘Tosser!’
‘The manners of some people,’ he said lightly, shaking his head in good humour as he passed an elderly witch and her friends. ‘I do like your hat. Very … abstract. The monkey tails are a nice touch!’
The witch grinned a black and white grin. ‘Thank you, kind sir. Thank you indeed.’ Then to her friends, ‘Such a nice boy. Who was that?’
At the end of Diagon Alley, past Ollivander’s, was Parkinson & Sons, a solicitors office that occupied a miniscule building that was wedged between two huge shops like a single piece of cucumber in a door-stop sandwich. A tiny brass plaque next to the door stated the business name and the solicitors working inside. It was a select establishment. You were either a life-long client going back generations, or you were nothing.
Draco entered without knocking and stood expectantly in front of the receptionist’s desk.
‘Do you have an appointment?’ the witch asked, dabbing at a spot of what appeared to be mayonnaise on her blouse.
‘Of course.’
‘And you are?’
Draco waited and the witch continued to dab, her serviette smearing the mess rather than soaking it up. When she eventually realised she hadn’t been answered, she put down the tissue and looked up.
‘Who do you think I am?’ Draco said.
‘Erm …’ And then her eyes widened with recognition. ‘You’re … Okay, if you’d just like to wait—’
‘I don’t wait.’
‘No, no, of course not, follow me,’ she said quickly.
She got out of her chair but failed to gain any height. Draco followed her along the corridor and up the stairs, along another corridor and then back down a different flight of stairs. The next corridor curved around in a circle and they arrived back at the reception desk and a door opposite that Draco hadn’t noticed the first time.
‘Security measures,’ she said apologetically, and then knocked and entered the room. ‘Mr Malfoy to see you.’
‘Excellent. Bring him in, please.’
Draco swept into the room, a perfect copy of his father, sleek, poised, confident.
‘Hello, Draco. I wondered when I’d be seeing you again. You certainly kept me waiting.’
‘Pansy? Oh bollocks.’
*****
Pansy Parkinson handed Draco a piece of parchment. ‘Are you over the shock yet?’ she asked, handing him her quill. ‘Sign there. And there. I can’t believe you didn’t realise it was me.’
‘The sign said Parkinson and Son,’ Draco pointed out.
‘Yes, I keep meaning to fix that. Actually, your appointment was with Daddy, but I arranged an overseas crisis for him so I could see you instead. Draco, you’ve never once written to me since school.’
Draco had no doubt that if anyone could arrange an overseas crisis at one days notice, it was Pansy Parkinson. It made him remember the good times and he reached across the desk for her hand. ‘Oh Pansy, I have missed you.’
‘Not enough to owl me, though,’ she said, twining their fingers together.
‘It was difficult. I needed to make a clean break of it. If it helps, I was sorry to leave you behind. Nobody quite understood me like you did.’
She patted his hand and then extracted her own to reach for a tissue. ‘You were complicated, but not too complicated for me,’ she said as she dabbed at her eyes. ‘I hope you’ve not replaced me.’
‘Of course not! You were, and always will be, the one fag hag in my life.’
‘I should hope so. I gave you years of my life, Draco Malfoy. I expect recompense when we’re all done with this. And speaking of, how quickly do you want this to happen?’
‘Quickly. Or quicker, if possible.’
‘And you’re absolutely sure you want to do this? It’s a lot to loose.’
‘It’s not loss. It’s a means to an end.’
Pansy jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands. ‘This is so exciting! It’s been months since I’ve taken anyone to the cleaners. Daddy says I always go too far.’
‘Do you really think we can do this?’ Draco said. He looked around Pansy’s office, at her opulent furnishings, and academic certificates adorning the walls. In another world, in another dimension and in another universe, this could have been his life.
‘Oh absolutely. It’s just a matter of how much it will take.’
‘Well, offer the money first, the threats can come later. But not too much later. Let me know when they’re ready to admit defeat and I’ll begin stage two.’
‘About stage two,’ Pansy said, sitting back down in a movement that was positively sulky, ‘don’t you think you’re being a little … overly generous. You could achieve much more for so much less.’
‘Nonsense. I want to do it. I want there to be a difference between me and my father, and even if the world doesn’t know it, this is that difference. My gift will come from the heart.’
Pansy looked moved for no more than a moment. Then she picked up her quill and countersigned Draco’s parchments. ‘Potter did this to you. He made you all … queer.’
Draco laughed. ‘I think I did that all by myself. Although he does give me a hand now and again.’
The quill fell from Pansy’s hand. ‘It’s true? You and Potter? I thought the Prophet was exaggerating, as usual. You’re actually buggering him?’
‘Pansy!’
‘I’ll take that as a yes. You’re a sly one, Draco, I’ll give you that.’
‘There’s nothing sly about it. We met, our children clashed nearly as badly as we did, and we had to sort it out. It grew from there.’
‘Children. Shudder. And what did it grow into? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love.’
‘No comment.’
‘I’m not a reporter so answer the question properly.’
Draco thought about his life pre and post Potter. There was no doubt that Harry had filled a hole in his heart. But did he really love him?
‘I … I’m doing this for him. All of it. I could just take my son and leave, disappear like I did the first time because when I’m out of sight I’m eventually out of mind. Harry doesn’t have that luxury. He needs a much bigger fix.’
‘I see.’ Pansy looked a little green. ‘How … sickeningly romantic. You’ll be marrying him next.’
‘Marrying? I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘Well don’t. That was just me putting unnecessary thoughts in your head. Clear them out at once. We have bigger things afoot. Now, for the last time, are you absolutely sure?’
For Kasen. For James.
For Harry.
‘Absolutely,’ Draco said. ‘Do it. Send the owls.’
Pansy nodded, stood and held out her arms. ‘Good luck,’ she said.
‘I don’t think I’ll need it with you on my side.’ Draco closed his eyes and held his friend tightly. ‘My beloved Pansy.’
‘My Draco.’ She pulled away from him. ‘And you’d better tell Potter that. You’re mine, not his.’
‘I’ll tell him.’
‘Good. Now shoo before I get all girly and emotional.’
If there was anyone that would fight his corner and do his dirty work, it was Pansy. Her eyes were watery, but behind the unshed tears was determination and loyalty. She wouldn’t let him down.
Draco kissed her goodbye and Disapparated.
******
Apparating into the middle of the Weasleys’s front lawn wasn’t one of Draco’s best plans. He was instantly blinded by cameras and flummoxed by a hundred shouted questions.
‘Get in here, you bloody idiot!’
Something tall and ginger grabbed him and hauled him into the house.
‘Mind the robes, honestly.’
‘Draco, where have you been?’ Harry walked towards him, his face taut and worried, but the children overtook him and Draco was presented with several works of fine art and his very own used paintbrush.
‘I told you this morning, my solicitor.’
‘For seven hours?! Tell me what’s going on?’
‘Yeah, Daddy,’ Kasen said, ‘Tell us what’s going on and when dinner is.’
‘You haven’t eaten?’ Draco asked him.
‘No, your kid’s been starving waiting for you.’
‘Ah, Ron. I thought I heard an IQ dripping.’
‘Shut it, Malfoy. You’ve got some explaining to do.’
‘To you? I seriously doubt it.’
‘That’s enough!’ Harry tried not to shout but failed. ‘Kids, why don’t you go tell Molly we’re ready to eat. Ron, back off for a minute. Draco, come with me.’
Harry led him to an empty bedroom and sat them both on the bed. It wasn’t a very good bed and Draco wondered how long they could sit on it before the end sloped enough for them to end up on the floor. Not that it would be a bad thing …
‘On a scale of one to ten,’ Harry said, ‘how evil have you been today?’
Draco sighed and looked over at a torn poster of the Weird Sisters. ‘Well, considering I’m usually a two, perhaps three, I’ve been evil up to maybe a four.’
Harry nodded. ‘Seriously, you’re up to something. What is it?’
‘Nothing for you to worry about.’
‘Bad luck, then, because I am worried.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you went to see your solicitor and didn’t come back for seven hours.’
‘I told you I’d be a while!’
‘It doesn’t take seven hours to move some money about!’
‘Oh fine, have it your way,’ Draco said, getting up and flouncing over to the window. He crossed his arms and stared out at the reporters. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise.’
‘A surprise?’ Harry said. ‘For me?’
‘Of course for you.’ Draco turned around. ‘Oh don’t make me spoil it, please, Harry.’ He sat back down on the bed. ‘I promise I haven’t done anything remotely illegal or immoral. You do believe me, don’t you?’
Harry sighed and took Draco’s face in his hands. ‘Of course I believe you. I was just worried. I don’t like being worried. It makes me …’
‘Arsey.’
‘Yeah. You were in the Evening Prophet again. They got a picture of the crowds of Diagon Alley parting to let you through.’
‘Really? Did it look impressive?’
‘Very. And, according the Prophet, sinister.’
‘Sinister? Is that what they actually said? Oh my, I think I like that.’
‘Stop it,’ Harry said, but he was smiling. ‘Let’s have some dinner.’
*****
Dinner was an awkward affair with only the children fully at ease. Ron sulked at the end of the table, while Hermione chatted inanely about Ministry matters to Mr Weasley who had nothing more constructive to say than, ‘Well, hasn’t it been a lovely gay, uh, day?’
When the ordeal was over, Harry asked Draco to floo back with the children while he stayed to talk to Molly who had apparently been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the day.
‘Daddy, can I have a Unicorn?’ Kasen asked as they stepped from Harry’s fireplace.
‘Certainly not.’
Both Kasen and James looked rather disappointed, as though Kasen asking had been a genius plot they’d been working on all day.
‘But how about another fish? A special fish.’
The boys looked at each other, their faces lighting up. ‘Yes please!’ they both said.
‘Excellent. But shush, don’t tell Harry. We just have to wait for a few … well, awhile. But then, when everything is ready, we’ll get your fish. How about that?’
They nodded eagerly and Draco ruffled their hair and wandered upstairs in an almost dreamlike state. He unbuttoned his shirt as he walked and imagined what it was going to be like, when Pansy called for the final time, when the plan was at its peak and he’d got his way. Oh the things he was going to show Kasen, and Hogwarts was top of the list. Draco could just see his little face alight with wonder, just like his was when his father had first shown him.
*****
Draco looked around him, at the polished floors and the high ceilings, the suits of armour and ancient sculptures. A hundred painted eyes watched him and a ghost drifted in the distance.
‘My instincts say Durmstrang, but I expect Narcissa will get her way.’
‘I don’t want to go to Durmstrang!’ Draco said. ‘I like Hogwarts!’
His father ignored him so Draco turned to the man on his other side. ‘I like Hogwarts,’ he repeated more calmly. ‘I expect it’s the best. It is, isn’t it?’
He didn’t get an answer so he let go of his father’s hand and ran ahead to catch one of the staircases just as it moved. He gripped the banister tightly as his father had advised and laughed as it swung round.
‘Who are you, then?’ said a tall ginger-haired boy waiting on the connecting platform.
‘Draco Malfoy. Who are you? Your hair is a funny colour.’
‘Draco, come away, please.’
He considered disobeying, but only for a moment. He grinned up at the strange looking boy and then jumped onto the next staircase. He rode them for what seemed like hours and was hungry by the time he was finished.
‘Perhaps consider Durmstrang.’
‘Nonsense. Narcissa won’t have it.’
‘Perhaps she could be persuaded. The fame and notoriety of Hogwarts could be destructive to a young boy’s education.’
His father laughed and took Draco’s sweaty hand the moment he held it out. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to put me off. Is there something I should know?’
The other man said nothing so Draco looked up at his father, at the amused smile as it slowly slid away.
‘Severus? What have you to tell me?’
‘Nothing. It’s just that The Ministry has little to do with the school these days, no influence. Durmstrang is much more tightly run. I thought you should know.’
It was the first time in Draco’s life that he’d detected a lie, but by the time he was looking a giant squid in the eye, he’d forgotten.
*****
Harry returned within the hour, looking pale and tired. ‘There were tears,’ he announced, and then pounced on a packet of chocolate biscuits.
‘Who? You?’
‘Molly. I know she didn’t think I’d be single forever, but me moving on just feels like she’s lost a little bit more of Ginny.’
‘I hope that wasn’t what she said. That selfish wench!’
‘Don’t be a bastard. She was upset.’
‘That doesn’t mean she can make you feel guilty about it.’
‘That wasn’t her intention. And if it makes you feel better, she said you were a very handsome choice and she’d have gone for you herself if she’d been thirty years younger, despite your terrible reputation and villainous haircut.’
Draco wasn’t sure if he was flattered or disgusted so he pushed all thoughts of either to the back of his head and concentrated on making Harry feel better. He ran him a bath, put the children to bed, held him close and kissed him slowly. And when they made love, he relinquished all the control he could and let Harry go his own way.
It was only the second time in his life that he’d allowed anyone that kind of power over him and, as Harry slid inside, Draco allowed himself to hope this was forever.
TBC …
luciusfqf :: luciusfqfbecause Lucius needs love too!