A Harry Potter Fanfiction:Morning Sunshine
By: Aria da Capo al Fine
Rating: ALL sorts of rating (There will be G, PG, PG13, R and NC17 all in one, proceeding as the fic goes)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters belong to JK Rowling & other publishing agents such as Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Werner Bros Inc. I'm not making any profit by writing this, so you have no right to sue me. Not that you're going to get anything, mind you: I'm penniless.
Morning Sunshine is a sequel of Feeling Empty Without. I suggest you read FEW first before reading this.
The silver-eyed blonde boy opened his mouth widely as he saw the inside of my house. "Whoa, it's so big!" he began to run to the room I told him was going to be his. I chuckled and followed the boy inside.
I had, as soon as possible after finishing my work for the Ministry for the day, returned to the Orphanage, had a meeting with the Owner and briefly adopted the boy. It took me a week to finish all those crappy paperwork and all those persuasion! I couldn't see why English Government would not let an unmarried man adopt a child; it was rather silly. Thanks to Hermione she pretended to be my wife and even faked a letter of marriage.
My musing was gone as soon as I saw the boy frowning at his bedroom. "What is it?" I asked, slightly bending down to the nine years old.
"They're cold," he commented with a slight pout.
The boy had sharp eyes. "Cold what?" I asked, feigning innocence, "the colours? The positions of the furniture? Cold what?"
The blonde boy made a sigh. "The colours are fine," he looked around, "although I would like some changes about it. Red and Gold are not my colours," the youth shuddered, and I couldn't help but laugh, remembering that you had once told me the same too. Damn the boy was so similar to you.
"So…what's cold?" I asked again.
The boy shrugged. "I don't know…" he trailed and looked around again, "just…cold."
We fell silent for a while before I decided to take him to look around the house. It was when we got to the living room he huffed again. "What is it with you? Are you obsessed with Red and Gold, Uncle?"
I laughed. "Daddy."
He turned to look up at me. "What?"
I ruffled his fine hair, and he scowled. He was so a miniature of you. "Call me Daddy. Daddy Harry if you want. Oh, and my name is Harry James Potter. I forgot to tell you through all these messy moving thing," I bent down at his level.
"Daddy Harry," he smiled as he tasted the name on his tongue. He looked so much like you I was beginning to think that adopting him was not so good. Uh-oh…shouldn't think like that.
I smiled at the boy. "What's your name?"
Suddenly, the smile was gone from his silver gray eyes and he shifted his feet uneasily. "The Lady in the Orphanage named me Dray…" he shrugged, looking down the floor.
I hmmed before lifting his face, forcing him to look up again. "May I make a slight change to that name?"
He nodded happily and grinned. I smiled back at him, hoping to not regret this decision later on. "Draco. Your new name will be Draco."
He wrinkled his nose and blinked his eyes.
I raised my eyebrow. "Why, you do not like it?"
The nine years old blinked again. "No…" he trailed, a smile tugging from the end of his lips again. "Draco…" he tasted the name on his tongue and his smile widened. "Actually, I like it. It's unique."
I smiled. "Draco Potter. That's who you are."
The blonde grinned again at me. We looked at each other with happiness in our eyes before the boy turned back to the furniture in the living room. "Daddy Harry?" his boyish voice called, "This sofa is better matched with the wooden floor if it has black colour. And leather. The TV is big, so luxury looking, and the wood is light coloured; the red plump couch ruined the entire complexion. No offense, Daddy Harry, but you have no sense of art."
I couldn't help but to laugh out loud. Damn, even in the age of nine this miniature of you had already had that good fashion and interior design sense or yours. "I know that, son, I'll leave the whole thing about decorating to you. I have learned long ago that I suck at that."
I had taken two weeks off my job. We had spent the whole next week going shopping, finding matching furniture for the house and buying my new son his things: clothing, books, toys, stationeries, toiletries and anything else to fill his room. He looked so happy. And I wasn't too shocked when the boy seemed to be having a thing towards his hair and his looks. That was so typically you.
Within the span of a short week, my house had been transformed into a warm and lovely home. My bed was still empty every morning; I was still the only occupant of the too large bed, but I felt somehow…warm and happy.
I put the boy into a Primary School close to our home. Today was supposed to be his first day. And as I was pouring milk to the cereal for him, I asked to assist him for that, but he refused, with head held high, telling me that he was a baby no longer and needed not my assistance over something as small as that. Again, that was so typically you.
Everything about Draco jr. was so like you.
He came back home with a smile. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. After eating his dinner, he quickly went to his bedroom, still giving me that fake smile. I went to knock at the door, but he didn't reply, and so I entered the room and found himself wiping his face for last trace of tears. I gave a thin smile and sat at the end of the bed.
"What is it, Draco?" I asked concernedly.
The boy held his head high on me and feigned another happy smile. "What was what, Daddy Harry? School was great."
I sighed and shifted closer to him. I stretched out my hand and held his little chin up, my green eyes looking into his beautiful silver pools.
"Draco," I breathed, "I know you're so good at lying, but none of them are working to me. The happiness never reached your eyes. Tell me about it, Draco, all about it. There is no point of having a father if you can't talk to him."
We kept on looking at each other. After a while, the silver gray eyes began to fill with water and tears were flowing down his cheeks. "I-I…was rejected is all," he silently sobbed, "Why can't they reject me nicely? Why do they have to use hurtful words?"
My mind flashbacked instantly to my rejection to you on the train and my heart winced. You must have had felt the same about that time too. I hurt you. And now, Draco jr. was hurt. I wrapped my arms around the boy's lithe body and cuddled him, patting him on the back. "Draco," I whispered soothingly as he buried his head against my chest, "they might have not meant it, you know? Try talking more nicely to them tomorrow and show your kindness, I am sure they will come around at you."
The boy shifted and looked up at me with those big silver eyes. "Really, Daddy Harry?"
I nodded and smiled. "Yes," I answered while petting his soft, silky blonde hair. We cuddled for a while before Draco Jr. fell asleep. Too lazy to move out and didn't have the heart to wake the angelic looking blonde up, I slept on his bed as well for the night.
I couldn't tell how wonderful I felt the morning after, when I found myself with a companion sleeping peacefully, curling against my chest.
He came back home that day with a real happy smile. The first thing he did when he entered the house was to hug me, thanking me for my advice, for my soothing presence, telling me about his new friends, and all I could do was to smile and said, "That's what fathers are for."
I had spent ten days with him, and I hadn't told him about the Wizarding world at all. Part of me felt guilty for hiding such a fact, and part of me was still finding the right time. It was four days before my days off were over an event happened and left me no choice about the problem.
Dinner was over. I was washing the plates and kitchenware by the sink in the kitchen while he was sitting on the living room's table, doing his homework. It was when suddenly two 'pop' sounds were heard. Ronald Weasley and Seamus Finnigan had come Apparating into my home.
The blonde's silver eyes widened as Ron was shouting around. "Harry, you there? There's a problem in the Ministry of Magic, we need your help!"
Seamus was about to do the same when he realized about the occupant of the room. "Goodness Merlin!" he shouted, catching Ron's attention as well. The Irish was pointing at Draco Potter with shocked eyes. The auburn haired man soon had the same look on his freckled face. "Gods, Malfoy, you're alive? Have you shrunk?"
The blonde boy was about to ask what the hell was happening when I appeared at the doorway. I looked at both Ron and Seamus's reactions, then Draco's face, and winced. "You look like someone had just walked over your grave," I retorted, waving a hand at the two men's faces.
They flung their hands to mine straight away. "Harry…what…how…when…?"
I gave them a thin smile before turning to the still shocked looking blonde boy on the couch. "Draco, I'll be gone shortly for some business for a while. Everything will be explained tomorrow. I will not be back until really late at night, so I want you to sleep first without waiting for me."
The boy was about to protest. "But, Daddy Harry-!"
I gave him a look. "Draco, please. I'm sorry."
With that, I took out my wand and Apparated away to the Ministry of Magic together with the two still flabbergasted men.
I reached my office and did all the stupid rusty work about Muggles seeing a pack of werewolves with my mind wandering somewhere else. Will Draco jr. be angry to me because I'd never told him about this? Then again we'd only spent 10 days together…10 days were enough to talk, you know. I shook my head to clear that stupid inner voice and concentrated on what I had got on hand.
By the time all the mind wipes done to the Muggles were finished, it was already 6 am, and there were still bloody reports and paperwork to do. All the time during the fieldwork, Auror Seamus and Ron's minds were concentrated for the strong mind wipe and rebuilding the wards; now that the work was done, they tailed on me, showering me with questions.
"Harry, was that Malfoy? Did he get shrunk or anything?" Ron asked with wide eyes I had to smack him on the head together with the Irish.
"Dorks. You both saw that Draco Malfoy had died…for me," I retorted.
There was silence for a while. The two looked at each other before looking at me again. "Then-?"
"That silver-eyed blonde boy with an uncanny resemblance to Draco Malfoy is not Draco Malfoy," I sighed at their prying eyes, "don't ask me how. One day, I was passing an Orphanage and suddenly he came out greeting me. As you can see, he's so similar to Draco Malfoy, so I decided to adopt him."
Ron and Seamus looked at each other again. "That boy can be Malfoy…you know?"
I had to resist the urge to strangle the two thickheaded men and glared at them. "Draco Malfoy was dead. In front of my eyes."
There was silence again before the Irish shifted his feet. "So…why did you call the boy…Draco?"
I snorted. "Because obviously, I named the boy like that. Draco Potter." I looked at my watch, the still thick pile of paperwork, and sighed. I then looked at the two stupid Aurors. "Listen. This is so late… no, morning, and I have a child to take care of. I want to be excused."
And so I Apparated away to my house without waiting for the response.
By the time I was back home, Draco jr. had already gone to school. I couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. For one, I was still not sure whether he was going to be angry to me or not. For two, I was so tired I needed a very good sleep.
I flopped down the bed and closed my eyes, not even bothering to change my dirty clothes.
Someone was shaking my shoulders. I woke up rather harshly, rubbing my eyes to erase all the sleepiness before going to get my spectacles only to be greeted by the sight of a pair of fuming silver gray orbs. I sat up straight away. "Draco."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, Uncle, care to explain everything?"
I winced. Uncle. Oh, please don't be so angry…
I sat onto the couch in my room and asked him to sit on the bed. He complied, his eyes still raging.
I closed my eyes for a while and exhaled the air sharply before looking back up to face his face. "Draco, I'm sorry I'd never told you earlier but…" I trailed, my hand taking out my wand from my pocket, "I am a wizard."
I knew he was trying to act calm. He was giving me that 'you're joking' look altogether with the slightly shocked look on his face. I sighed. I flicked the wand and muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa," and levitated the pillow to his lap.
His gray eyes widened. He looked at me with absurdity in his face.
I smiled at him. I stood up and strolled to the vase that was placed on the nightstand. I lifted it up before letting it out from my palm, sending it crashing to the floor with loud thud. He winced at the sound. Again, I flicked my wand at the mess and muttered, "Reparo," and the whole thing came up together again. I levitated it back onto the nightstand.
I looked at him closely. The blond still hadn't changed his expression at all. Shock and absurdity were still apparent.
I sat down next to him and gave out a thin smile. "Do you think of me as a freak?" I asked softly, rubbing my thumb over his hand.
Slowly but surely, he turned his face at me. "No," he breathed, his silver eyes still wide, "it is…cool!" I sighed in relief. He jumped off the bed and faced me, a huge smile tugging on his lips. "Daddy Harry, how are you able to do that?"
I furrowed my eyebrows. How could I explain him? I smiled unsurely at him. "Because…I'm a wizard. I don't know why, I was born with magical ability."
His smile decreased. "Am I going to be able to do that as well?"
I petted his hair and smiled tightly at the nine years old. "It depends. I don't know whether you're a muggle or not-."
"Muggle?" he raised his slender eyebrow.
Ah well…I'd forgotten that Draco jr. knew nothing of the magical world. I pulled the boy closer and made him sit on my lap. "Muggles is what we wizards call humans with non-magical ability."
I sensed a discomfort. "How can we know whether one is a muggle or a wizard?"
I wrapped my arms around the boy and cuddled him. "If one is a wizard, he or she will start showing magical abilities around the age of eleven. Or Hogwarts will send an owl to inform the family."
He shrugged and blinked his eyes. "Hogwarts? Owl?"
I rubbed my temples and began to explain. "Hogwarts is a school for young wizards and witches to learn more about magic. I was in that school too. And we usually use owls to post letters around."
He fell silent for a while to let the whole thing sink into his mind. "I see," he furrowed his eyebrows, "so if I'm a wizard, Hogwarts will send me a letter asking me to study there."
I smiled. He was so smart, like you. "Yes, son." I petted his hair again before my hand squeezed his arm stiffly. "Draco? Can you please not tell anyone that I am a wizard?"
He looked up at me with confusion in his eyes, but before I needed to explain the need of keeping the secret, he nodded understandingly and cuddled back into my chest.
It was a comfortable silence before I sensed him shrugging in my arms again. "Dad?"
He shifted again. "Yesterday the two men…"
I shrugged. "They are my friends. We work in the Ministry of Magic. In fact, I am the Minister of Magic…"
I could hear Draco jr. muttering something like 'cool' before asking a question again. "How did they manage to appear from thin air?"
"It's Apparating," I remarked. "It's our means of transportation. Sort of Teleportation, or what the science fictions call it. Using magic we move ourselves from one place to another. High standard magic. No wizards are allowed to learn it before they are seventeen."
He looked up at me. "Why?"
I wrinkled my nose. "Apparating is hard. One can accidentally leave his body part or clothing while apparating. Imagine how unsafe it is for children to suddenly appear legless."
He wringed. "Gross."
I nodded with him. "Definitely."
Another silence. This time it wasn't so comfortable anymore. He kept on shifting in my arms.
"Daddy, why were the two men pointing at me as if I as a dead corpse coming back to live? And who's Malfoy?"
I winced. My heart cracked. It hurt. I slowly lifted him off my lap and after giving one last smile, I disappeared to my bookshelf, returning a moment later with a photo album in my hand. The dreaded photo album I hadn't had the heart to look at for the past ten years.
I sat back next to him, pulling him onto my lap again and opened the photo album, stopping at the photo of you and I holding our broomsticks together after the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor; my arm around your shoulder, a large grin on my young face, a large pout on your young pale face, my scarlet and your green robes billowing. I couldn't help but traced your picture with my finger.
The boy became curious and peeked into the photo I was looking at. It wasn't until he gasped I tore my attention from the picture. "He looks so much like me."
I fought the urge to cry, smiled sincerely at him and pulled him tighter to my hug. "Yes, Draco, he looks a lot like you. He was who my friends had mistaken you of. Draconis Lucius Black Malfoy."
The boy looked at his older self's picture, trailing his finger on it as well. "Well…dad, where is he now?"
A lump formed in my throat. I found it very hard to breath. Silent tears crept on my cheeks.
Another very long, long silence. I could feel him creeping up at me and wrapped his small arms around me, trying to soothe me. I smiled at him and hugged him tighter. I cried for a while before managing to stop and wiped my tears. I stood up and tried to smile. "What do you want for dinner, Draco?"
He looked up at me. He bit his lips for a while before a fleeting emotion was gone from his eyes and looked at me with a slight smugness. "Something that actually have vegetables in it."
I wringed. "I hate vegetables."
He sneered. "I like vegetables. They're healthy."
With that, we went down laughing to the kitchen.
A week passed. My days off were over. I had explained to the boy as much as I could about the magical society. The look on his face had amused me greatly. It was the same look that had lingered down on your face when I explained about the wonder of muggle world to you. Awed would be an understatement. And it seemed to me that he had taken a great liking to the magical mirror. So typically you.
It took him a while to get used to see me disappearing or appearing from thin air any moment. The first few days of my return from work he jumped back a few feet upon seeing the sudden appearance of my body in the guestroom. He was even more put out when one day, when doing his homework on the table in the living room, the flame in our fireplace turned green and a head appeared in the middle of the fireplace. He screamed. "Daddy Harry!"
I, who was currently doing the dinner, dropped my spoon immediately and switched off the stove, running to the living room with an apron. I saw the boy's frightened face and went to hold him. "Yes, Draco?"
He pointed a finger shakily to the fireplace. "A head…there's a head!"
I saw the fireplace and found a shocked face of Ron. I tsked and put the nine years old down to the sofa before going beside the fireplace. "What is it, Ron?"
I could feel Draco jr. gaping at me for my calmed expression.
My red-haired best friend wrinkled his nose and gave a look at Draco jr. before looking at me. "Nothing, Harry, just to tell that Hermione will be coming to your place tomorrow. And…er…wish you good evening."
With that, his head disappeared from the fireplace.
Draco jr. watched, fascinated, as the head disappeared. I then turned to look at him and sat beside him.
"W-what the hell was that, Daddy Harry?"
I sighed, looked at him and explained. "We don't only transport by Apparation, Draco. We also use the fireplace."
He raised his eyebrow, eyes still wide. "How is that possible?"
I furrowed my eyebrows, never really thought about it this hard before. "Every wizard's fireplace is registered to the Ministry of Magic, and they are connected to each other. All we need to do was use some powder named the 'Floo powder'. Pour it to the fireplace and shout the place of destination loud and clearly and you'll be delivered there. Of course, sometimes you can just put your head into the green flame and talk; the flame is not hot at all. Works like telephone." Now, that was a decent explanation.
His eyes were wide still as he went to think about it. It was a while before he turned to me again. "Why did Daddy Harry never use it?"
I laughed. "I am not fond of the fireplace because the fireplace is not fond of me!"
He raised his eyebrow.
I wrinkled my nose. "Traveling with fireplace is dusty, stuffy, and pepper hot. I don't like it."
He wrinkled his nose with me. "It seems that I will not take a liking to it either." We looked at each other and laughed.
The next day, what Ron had told me about in the fireplace had completely fled from my head. It was hard for me not to get shocked when finding a pretty attractive brunet with intelligent brown eyes standing in my guestroom, looking around with a smile on her face.
"Hermione!" I exclaimed before giving my old best friend a hug. She seemed a little shocked at first, but smiled and returned my hug nonetheless. "Harry, it's nice to have you back!"
Of course she was shocked. This day must be the first time she saw me smile…after the decade. She had been working as a healer in St. Mungos; she was not there when I first freaked my whole colleagues by smiling at them.
We were still hugging and chatting together when Draco jr. came to the doorway. He shifted his feet uneasily. Hermione was the first to spot him. She gasped, her eyes wide, her fingers pointing at the blonde. "Ha-Harry…Draco!"
I turned and found Draco jr. I smiled, signing him to come, and looked at Hermione. "'Mione, you remember faking our marriage letter for adopting a child?" The brunet nodded. I smiled and gestured to the boy. "This is the boy. Meet Draco Potter, 'Mione."
Hermione bent down to stare at the boy, studying him, and mouthed something like 'so uncanny!' before smiling at the boy. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Weasley."
I smiled and turned to look tenderly at the blond. "Aunt Hermione here is one of my best friends."
Draco jr. looked at her before looking at me back. "Is she a witch?"
We looked at each other and laughed. "She is, Draco, one of the best too!"
The woman gave me a playful punch on the arm and nodded before sitting on the new leather couch, looking around. "And now I see the reason of the change of the house!" she grinned at me.
I blushed. "Believe it or not, Draco picked them all." I beamed at the nine years old, who seemed so proud of himself.
Hermione stood up and began looking into the kitchen as well. "No wonder. The old Draco I knew also had great sense of decorating things." She stiffened and quickly closed her mouth, changing the subject. "Anyway, I like them. They're warm."
We spent the rest of the night together. Hermione cooked the dinner and upon seeing the carrot and spinach on the steak, Draco jr. beamed at her and they both spent at least 30 minutes giving me lecture about the goods of vegetables. I had to laugh. You rarely agreed with Hermione. It was so good to see your miniature getting along greatly with her.
Hermione also told me about her son, Alex, and promised to bring him along next time to be friends with Draco jr. Alex could tell Draco jr. about lots of magical stuff, and I was sure the blond would like it. He had taken a great liking towards the magical world.
I was thinking that, if your miniature could get along well with Hermione, he could surely get along with her Weasley son as well. Apparently, my thought was wrong.
One sunny Saturday, I was rummaging through the house, looking for a bottle of ink, Draco jr. tsking at the mess I made before tidying them up and I made an apologetic smile at him. My last bottle of ink had ran out, and it was not a normal type of ink either – it was one type that could appear to be blank if the content was not meant to be read by the people that were not supposed to read it. I couldn't just simply go to the nearest bookstore to get it. I had to go to the Diagon Alley.
Diagon Alley. I grinned. Draco might be happy if I take him there.
With the big grin still plastered on my face, I jumped from the mess I'd made and ran to get a cloak. My adopted son followed my form with slightly annoyed but amused eyes. I shouted at him. "Get ready, Draco, we'll be going to the Diagon Alley to get some things."
Confusion invaded its way to his silver eyes. "Diagon Alley?" He repeated while putting away the stack of papers I accidentally knocked over during the searching of ink and stood up, following me to get his own cloak. "Where is that place?"
That only served to widen my grin. I looked at him and took his hand before going out of the door. "You're going to like it there. Trust me."
"Oh my God…" the blonde boy muttered, silver eyes wide open and mouth hanging as I showed him the busiest Wizarding Alley in England, Diagon Alley.
I paused to give him time to adjust and smiled genuinely at his expression. We had gone to London by muggle taxi before stopping right in front of the Leaky Cauldron, both the driver and Draco jr. giving suspicious looks at me. All the time during the journey, the pale boy kept on giving me prying eyes, trying to get a slight answer from me, but I just shrugged him off and grinned larger, annoying the hell out of him and freaking the hell out of the poor taxi driver.
Anyways, his eyes started widening as I opened the door of the small pub and pushed him inside. He looked around at the witches and wizards with great interest, and I was watching him by the corner of my eyes before Tom trotted towards me.
"Good afternoon, Minister Potter. Anything I can help you today?" the old man asked me.
I smiled at him and shook my head, replying, "I'm going to the Diagon Alley to buy some things today." I didn't realize that Draco jr. was watching the pub keeper and me at that time.
The old man made a crooked smile. "Why, of course. This is a good day, isn't it? Well, Minister Potter, wish you'll find all the things that you need."
I nodded at him in thanks and dismissal before pushing Draco further to the back of the pub and tapped the wall with my wand three times.
And here we were, me standing next to a gawking Draco.
Eventually, the blonde boy came out of his stupor. He closed his mouth and turned at me, his small hand creeping up to hold my hand. I looked down at him and smiled again. "Ready to go?"
We walked side by side through the busy street, with many witches and wizards passing us, all but stopping to greet at me "Good Day, Minister Potter!" and I replied them with a simple nod of head. I didn't realize that my foster son was, while gawking at the stores around him, looking around at those people and looking up at me uneasily. I could feel Draco's small hand squirming in mine and I had to wonder why.
I paused to look at him. Draco jr. looked so lost, so forlorn, so unlikely him.
I frowned. "What's wrong?" I asked as we kept on walking through the crowd, all still buzzing greetings to me. I used to get annoyed by them, but by now I had gotten used to them.
He shook his head before looking at me with a smile. "It's nothing."
I shrugged it off and resumed with the walking. But the nagging feeling never left my mind.
There was something in Draco's mind that was making the boy uncomfortable.
We stopped by Gringotts for a while to get some galleons. By the time we got out of the massive building, Draco was looking paler than he usually was, muttering about bloody tunnels, carts and snobbish goblins. I was exactly in the same shape as him. That sick feeling was enough to usher the nagging feeling out of my mind for a while.
I then proceeded to buy the ink and a few more quills and parchments. As I was talking with the shopkeeper, Draco jr. was looking around the racks, gaping as some of the inks glowed or changed colours, or staring at the variety of quills. And as usual, I was watching him by the corner of my eyes. He was so amusing. I couldn't take my eyes off him too long a time. I wondered if you were like him when you were a child.
As soon as I got the goods, we went out of the store and into Flourish and Blotts. I needed to get some new books about Charms or Potions, or such things that got updated very fast. And as I was looking for them, Draco jr. was trailing his finger on the titles of lots of books, the 'wow' never leaving his mouth, and eventually he cringed as he came across the Book of Monsters, which showed its huge and sharp fangs at the boy. He backed away a few feet before glaring at it. I couldn't help but chuckled at the sight.
I approached him, a few heavy books in my hand. "Fancy buying some books?" I asked him, smiling.
He looked at me uncertain, before nodding. I shooed him and told him to get them. He ran to the back shelves and emerged a few moments later clutching some books about Magical Creatures, and, surprise, surprise – Potions. I guessed this miniature of you would be a Potions liker as well…
I purchased the book and we kept on going. I bought him some cauldrons and balance if he wanted to put that Potions books into practice, since Potion-making was not determined by one's magical ability, so basically muggles and squibs could do them as well. I stopped by Florean Florestue's (sp?) to eat a cone of strawberry almond ice cream and treated my son a vanilla one. As we trotted along the street, one hand holding the food while one hand holding a bag of goods, my gaze came across a Broomsticks shop and I came into a halt.
Draco carried on a few steps before he realized that I was not beside him and turned around. He spotted me, and ran to my side. "What is it, Father?"
I was too deep in my thoughts wondering whether a non-magical person could ride a broomstick or not to realize that he had called me 'father' instead of the usual 'dad' or 'daddy'.
I kept on thinking, and came to conclusion that I would buy him a broomstick. And if he was not able to ride it, then I could give it to Alex. As simple as that, I thought as I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the store.
We wandered through the store, with me eyeing the Nimbus 2011 with gleaming eyes. Of course, there were other good broomsticks, like Cleansweep Twelve or Comet Hundred Three, but Nimbus was the one that really caught my eye. I took it to the cashier and bought it. While the shopkeeper was telling me how to tend it, Draco jr. looked at the broomstick with longing eyes. He reached out his hand to touch it, but it halted halfway and he retreated his hand back to the handle of his cauldron. And as a bad father I was, I didn't notice.
Having too many strange magical things to be able to go home by muggle taxi unquestioned, I took out my wand to shrink them all. I went back home with a huge smile, planning to teach Draco how to fly the next day.
If only I had noticed the strained expression the silver-eyed boy was wearing all the time…
I marched excitedly along the backyard of my house, the morning sun shining upon me, a smile on my face, my Firebolt resting on my shoulder as I carried it by the handle. My backyard had been charmed to be much bigger than it looked like, and along with that there was a strong Concealment Charm that was shaped like a sphere, designed so that no muggle would be able to see when we were flying.
Following me was my blonde son, his eyes bleary and full of sleepiness as he trotted behind me, pulling the Nimbus 2011, rubbing his face off sleep, his shoulders slumped and his steps lazy and dragged. He glared at me slightly at the back, upset at the fact that he had to be woken up so early in the morning.
I stopped walking as I reached the middle of the yard, and he bumped at me. I looked down at him and smiled. "Today," I said as I put down my Firebolt and let it hover in the air, pausing as Draco made a small gawk, "I will be teaching you how to fly."
His eyes widened. He put down the Nimbus straight away, letting it hover in the air as he asked me, "Is that possible?" his voice and eyes were speaking in hope.
"Er…" I scratched my head, "I am not sure…" his face fell, "but," I added and smiled tightly, "hopefully, you will be able to."
He nodded and smiled weakly as he went to stand next to the Nimbus. I stood opposite from him next to my Firebolt. I cleared my throat. "Put your hand above the handle of the broom," I ordered, trying to remember what Madam Hooch was telling me when I was a first year, "and say, 'Up!'"
"Up!" he tried, looking down at the broom. The Nimbus didn't move. He looked up at me with disappointed eyes as he saw that my Firebolt had already flown to my hand.
"Try again," I urged, "to some beginners, it takes some time before the broom can obey you."
He tried again a few times. And at the umpteenth time, it worked. The Nimbus 2011 flew up to his hand.
He smiled at me, and I smiled back at him before raising my leg and rode the broom. "Now," I stated with clear voice, "try to carefully ride the broom. Don't get too hasty and don't step too hard on the ground."
He obeyed, gracefully and carefully trying to ride the broom. He shifted a few, trying to find a comfortable position. As we were both sure that Draco was firmly seated on the broom, I spoke again.
"Head the handle slightly upwards towards the sky, and stomp your feet on the ground on the count of three." I stepped on the ground on my behalf and flew upwards, the wind blowing my face as I tried to give him an example. He gaped at me. His heart must be racing at the thought of being able to fly right now.
As I dashed through the air, I smiled at him and shouted. "Try it on! One, Two, Three-!"
The blond stepped on the ground and his broomstick flew upwards. His expression was very happy. As he was soaring through the sky, he tried to steer his broom towards my direction. I was grinning silly at him, thinking that perhaps, this miniature of you was a wizard as well.
Just a moment after I was thinking of that, the Nimbus started to shake and it stopped in the midair. I stopped dead, Draco's eyes widened as he fell to the ground.
I panicked. I tried to find my wand and muttered some decelerating charm. But it was a too late. Draco was going to bruise.
I flew after him and landed right next to him, pulling him to my hug, checking him all over. He was not losing any limbs, nor breaking any bones, but he was having rather nasty-looking bruises on his elbows and knees. I winced as I reached over for my wand and brought it to his wounds. "Senera," I muttered the Healing Charm.
Draco winced as a beam of dark amethyst light surrounded his bruises. It must have hurt. I knew it hurt. The Healing Charm always hurt. But I had no choice, since I had no magical medicines at home. Truth be told, I hate magical medicines and hospital wings; they brought too many bad memories.
As my son flinched even harder, I cradled him in my arms. "You can cry alright, Draco, I know it hurts."
"I-it do-doesn't," he stuttered, looking at me with silver eyes sparkling from unshed tears, making me remember about a wrenching memory from the past, "I-I w-won't c-cry."
As the light died out, I soothed him by patting his back and brought him inside the house and into his room. He was upset, I know, but I was thinking that it was the pain of the bruises that made him wanted to cry. I didn't think that it was the pain of disappointment, overwhelming the physical pain that made him wanted to cry.
How wrong I could be…
Instead of coming into conclusion that he had no magical ability judging from the fact that he had difficulty flying, I should have thought about why the heck he hadn't broken any bones after he had fallen from somewhere nearly 20 feet in the midair.
A week had passed. Hermione and I had promised that I would visit the Weasleys (meaning: Ron, her and Alex) along with Draco the next day.
I had decided not to give the broomstick to Alex but keep it. True, Draco could not fly – he did not train anymore or mention anything about magic ever since that incident – but there was this feeling nagging in my heart, telling me that, one day, the broomstick would be needed. And so I kept it.
I was standing groggily in front of the fireplace, hand holding the Floo powder bag, as Draco stood beside me in his black cloak, looking back and forth between the fireplace and me.
Ron's house could not be reached by a muggle taxi, and I could not very well Apparate, since Draco jr. was underage and a muggle. I silently cursed my luck as I opened the bag.
"Daddy, are we going to travel with Floo Powder?" the blonde boy tilted his head.
I was impressed at his good memories. Of course, why had I never thought about it? You were clever. Surely your miniature should be clever too.
"Yes," I answered him; "we'll be going to Uncle Ron's house, and his house is unreachable by muggle methods."
He nodded in understanding before fixing his gaze at the fireplace.
I turned to look at him. "Listen Draco," I ordered as I took a handful of the powder, "to be able to travel by Floo Powder you must throw this to the flame and shouted the place of destination clearly," I emphasized on the word 'clearly', "or else you will be lost."
He nodded again.
I smiled and stepped into the Fireplace. "Remember my words," I said before throwing the powder, "the Weasleys' Burrow!" The green flames engulfed me as I caught a last glance at Draco jr.
Draco Potter watched as his father disappeared in the flames before entering the Fireplace coyly. He took a handful of the powder, set the bag on the table, and threw it. "The Weasleys' Burrow!" he shouted, and he was engulfed in the green flames as well.
Green. As green as Dad Harry's eyes…
I smiled in relief as I saw him stumbling out of the fireplace, before balancing himself on two feet. I knew that Flooing was compatible for both wizards and muggle, but I couldn't help but worry that something might go wrong, that he might go down at the wrong fireplace, or anything.
Apparently, my worrying had been for nothing, as he gently refused my helping arms before dusting the ashes off his grey sweater and jeans. I was watching him as he approached, and I marveled at how graceful he managed to reach equilibrium and not falling clumsily on all fours like I did. Even in this department, he seemed to have your grace too.
A cough brought me out of my reverie, and I turned around and smiled at my best mate. "Hey, Ron," We stepped up and hugged each other briefly, before I did the same to Hermione, who was standing next to her husband. "'Mione. How are you?"
"We're fine, thanks for asking, Harry," the brown-haired woman smiled before looking down at the blonde boy, "Hey, Draco, how are you?" she asked friendlily.
"Aunt Hermione," my foster son nodded at her politely in greeting, "I'm fine. Thank you for inviting me."
"Don't be," Hermione laughed softly, "it is a pleasure to have you here!" If Ron had any objections about the statement, whatever it was was forced to be swallowed back down his throat by a glare from his hazel-eyed wife. "Come," she grinned before taking my arm to the dining room, "you can't believe who you are going to meet today! I've invited them!"
I looked at Hermione with confusion in my eyes. "Them?" I repeated dumbly. Trailing behind me, the grey-eyed boy was trying to suppress a snort that was coming out of his mouth.
My female best friend nodded excitedly. "Yes, Harry, them," she repeated again in glee before pushing me into the room.
"Oh, my God, Harry!" I could hear someone shrieking before I was swept into a hug. There was no mistaking the tightness of the hug and the red hair. "M-molly!" I gasped, "C-can't b-breath."
"Oh, sorry," the old woman quickly released her hug before staring up at me, her pale blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "What were you thinking, not contacting me for ten years, Harry James Potter? And you were supposed to call me 'Mom'!"
She was no longer towering against me, but somehow, I felt like I was back to those days where we were being reprimanded by her for doing petty pranks. "I'm sorry, Mom," I smiled my best apologetic smile at her before subtly lashing out my original puppy eyes. I seemed a bit too old for this…but, well…
I could see that Molly was determined to stay angry, but at the sight of my smile, she shook her head and smiled as well before hugging me again, gentler this time. "I'm glad to see you smile," the red-haired grandmother whispered contently against my ear.
This affectionate moment remained for a while before Molly finally landed her eyes on Draco Jr. She gasped softly and moved back, while I turned around and bend to hold the blonde's little hand, whose big grey eyes were darting back and fro at me and her. "Mom," I smiled again to try to calm her down. "This is my foster son, Draco Potter. He is the one who brings me back my smile," then I looked down at him. "Draco, this is Molly Weasley, a.k.a. my 'Mom'. She is like a Grandmother to you too."
The little boy nodded before walking to the gaping woman and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you… Grandma…" he said hesitantly.
It took Molly a while before she took the hand and swept the small blonde into her arms. "Nice to meet you too, my lovely Grandson," she said lovingly, holding him close. He replied by trying to hug her back with his small arms and closing his eyes.
Soon enough, Molly put her down, and we settled around the dining table, Draco jr. sitting next to me and others spacing themselves out. We needn't wait long before a loud surrounding crack filled the room, and the infamous Weasley Twins walked down the room shouting their cheerful greetings.
"Good evening, Mom," George – or was he Fred? I didn't know – said before kissing her on the cheeks, the other twin doing the same thing after the other. Molly scowled affectionately at them before the two turned at me and grinned.
"So, Harry, we've-"
"-Heard that you'd-"
"-Freaked the whole Ministry by-"
"-Smiling at every person you passed by."
"Was it true?" they finished simultaneously before Fred – or George, whatever – looked at my son, who was staring at them with absurdity, curiosity and awe in his eyes. "By, the way, Harry, did you manage to bring Malfoy back up from grave and shrunk him, or what?" Fred asked, raising an auburn eyebrow.
Before I could open my mouth, Ginny joined us and hugged her mother and I briefly, greeting us happily before turning and looked at your miniature as well, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, her eyes as wide as saucers. "Bloody Hell, Draco Malfoy!"
"Ginerva Weasley, Language please!" Molly chided, before gesturing for the other Weasley's to sit. Bill was still in Egypt, Charlie still in Romania, and Percy and Arthur…well, they died in the war. So far, Ron was the only non-single one of the Weasley children, with Ginny following soon, what with her engagement to Neville, so this was basically almost all. "Fred, George, Ginny," Molly nodded her head at each one, "this is Harry's new foster son: Draco Potter. I have welcomed him as my Grandson, and I wish you would welcome him as your nephew as well."
"Certainly," Fred and George were quick to answer. They left their chair and crouch down on the left and right side of my son, him looking at them in bewilderment, his shoulders tensing in awkward anticipation. "We would make him the next most mischievous prankster in Hogwarts!" they grinned.
Draco flinched slightly, his head bent down to look at his plate, his fists clenched tightly on his lap.
"Fred, George!" Molly exclaimed in horror. "You will not-"
"Er…" I tried to interrupt, not knowing how to say this without hurting the blonde's feeling. The boy noticed it, and solved the problem for me. "Don't worry," Draco looked up at Molly and smiled angelically at her. "I am a muggle," he continued, his stare at her not wavering, even though his hands were trembling. He fooled everyone with her expert acting, including me, his supposedly 'dad'.
The table went quiet. Everyone was still processing the fact that the Great Harry Potter's supposedly son was a muggle, before Hermione broke the unbearable silence by saying. "Where is Alex? He is supposed to be here by now…" she said worriedly.
"Alex?" Ron picked up naively, glad that the invisible tension was over, "last time I checked he was flying around the neighbourhood with my old comet…" the redhead looked up at the Weasley Family Clock, searching for his son's arrow, which was moving from 'Playing' to 'Home' right now. "He should be here by now…"
No one saw the little blonde boy flinching on his seat.
As if coming on cue, they all heard the door slamming open, before a gawky boy with flaming red hair, Weasley freckled skin and Hermione's hazel eyes ran into the dining room, grinning at its occupants. "Everyone, I'm home!" Alexander Bilious Weasley exclaimed happily.
"Welcome home, my dear," Hermione stood up and pulled her dear child to her arms. The boy scowled at her, before seeing me, who was sitting close to 'Mione. His little face lit up. "Uncle Harry!" Alex shouted giddily and threw himself willingly to my arms. "I'm so glad you come! Will you teach me how to fly again sometimes?"
I 'oof'ed at the sudden weight before smiling down at the energetic kid. Never in a thousand years could I imagine Draco jr seeming as energetic. "Not now, Alex," I replied, softly petting his back. He grinned at seeing me smile, something he had tried to achieve thousands times before but never once succeeded, and snuggled at me as though I was a pillow.
I could feel someone staring at us, and I looked up to find Draco Jr's liquid silver eyes gazing unblinkingly, a strong emotion flashing across his fiery irises before he settled into an expressionless mask you always put on when you were feeling defensive. I released the hug reflexively and pushed the boy to sit on the seat next to the silver blonde. "Alex," I gestured at the paler boy, "this is my foster son, Draco Potter. Draco, this is Alex, Aunt Hermione's son."
The smile on Alex's face died. Both of them looked at each other sharply before Draco nodded his head politely and offered his soft small hand. "Nice to meet you, Alex," he stated courteously.
"You too," Alex said curtly, ignoring the hand, before looking at me again. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have flown together." He leered at Draco, "since he's your foster son, he must be a good flyer. You must have taught him a lot."
Draco flinched unnoticeably again. He smiled thinly and repeated his earlier statement. "I'm sorry, but I can't fly. I'm a muggle."
"Oh," Alex said haughtily, before glancing down at the shorter boy, a light mocking sneer on his lips. Draco narrowed his eyes at this, but chose to do nothing.
The encounter between the two boys had gone unobserved by the adults.
Instead, Molly cleared her throat before lifting her hands up. "Well, kids," she claimed before staring pointedly at Ron, Fred and George, as if saying 'no matter how old you are you will still be my kids', "let dinner begin!"
Dinner was eaten clean, and all of us moved to the living room, settling comfortably on the couches. Draco was rather quiet during the whole ordeal, but I guessed that was only because he wasn't used to being with the Weasleys. Molly stayed in the kitchen to do the dishes – magically, of course – before joining us in our cozy little chatting.
We were talking joyfully about anything and everything that crossed our minds before Fred – or George, I never bothered to find out – bent down to my son, who was sitting silently next to Hermione, and asked in a playful tone. "Do you know how great your dead Daddy is?"
Little Draco shifted his empty eyes from the fireplace he had been staring at to the auburn-haired man in front of him and shrugged. "He's the Minister of Magic," he remarked softly.
"Well, little Draco," George joined his twin and grinned widely at the blonde, making him feel awry in the insides, "that isn't all."
I looked up from Alex, who had been sitting on my lap playing Exploding Snaps, and scowled. "Fred, George, please don't say anything…" I groaned.
They ignored me, of course. "Harry, he deserves to know," either one of them remarked, that big grin still on his face, "after all, you were the Saviour of the Wizarding World twice, and the former Boy-Who-Lived."
"Boy-Who-Lived," Draco repeated curiously, "Explain, please, Uncle Fred?" He looked at the man on the right.
He could see the difference! You could see it too. In a flash, I might add. He was very smart. Like you.
"Your Dad, dear boy," Fred began, clearly glad that the boy could recognize him, "was the only person who could kill this really nasty antagonistic guy named Voldemort back then when our world was still in war. He saved the world!"
"Like a hero," Draco commented, turning to look at me with awe – and something else I couldn't decipher – in his orbs.
"Right," George patted his shoulder. "Like a bloody Hero. That was why he was made the Minister of Magic for the next decade. Not to mention that, when he was in Hogwarts, he had become the youngest Quidditch player in history, and the best Seeker ever!"
"George!" I said uncomfortably, "Stop it, would you?"
"Uncle Harry is the greatest wizard on Earth," Alex said pompously, snuggling even more to the man whose lap he was sitting on, "he's an awesome flyer and a very powerful mage," suddenly, he had this nasty look on his eyes again, as he looked down at Draco, and sneered very vissibly, "unlike you, who is a mere muggle, a nobody."
Hermione heard what her son had just said and chided him with a horrified expression on her face. "Alex!"
Draco winced, his eyes narrowing, his teeth gritting against each other as he flew to the boy in his Father's lap and slammed him to the floor, pinning the larger boy to the floor and straddled him on the waist, then punched him repeatedly on his chest.
"Alex!" Molly, Hermione and I tried to pry the two of them apart. The Fight was getting quite vicious on both parties. "Draco! Stop it!"
The blonde stopped his fist in midair and paused, his head turning to us. Alex used that chance to knock the breath out of the paler boy and whipped his wand out of his robe, the one his Daddy had given him on his ninth Birthday. He pointed it at the grey-eyed boy and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
The disarming charm lifted Draco's small form to the air and slammed him to the wall, where a few sharp ornaments were hung. The impact rendered him weak and helpless as he fell to the ground with a loud thud, bloodied, and doubtless, bruised.
I looked at the scene with wide terrified eyes before rushing to his side, checking his wounds frantically, while Hermione rushed to Alex and hit his hand. "Alexander Bilious Weasley, that was very much uncalled for!" the brunette shouted at him.
I took my wand out of the pocket of my robe and pointed them at the wounds. "Senera," I cast softly, hoping that he could withstand the pain.
He could, as always, he could. Like you. He stood up shakily and detached himself from me. When I tried to approach him, he glared at me with large angry silver eyes, and shouted, "It isn't my fault if I'm a muggle! I never asked to be adopted by such a Great wizard like you anyway!" his voice hoarse and dry. He wringed every once and a while, and his breathing was heavy, his body still recovering from the injuries.
Thick silence fell into the room. I was looking back at my son's face with wide green eyes, while the other Weasleys looked down on the floor. The only sounds that could be heard were the crackling of the fire and Draco's harsh breathing.
Soon enough, the wounded little blonde boy looked down too, and whispered, in such a small voice. "I'm sorry, Father, I didn't mean it. I-I…understand if you want to return me to the Orphanage for my ungratefulness."
My eyes' size went back to normal and I stood up quietly, walking to him before lifting his light frame up my shoulder, him not complaining at all. I carried him to the fireplace and took a handful of Floo power. "I'm sorry, 'Mione, Ron, Mum, Fred, George, Ginny and Alex, but I have to go home early. I hope that's okay to you," I said to the silence behind me without turning my head and threw the powder into the flame, shouting "The Potter residence!"
We reached our home in no time, me, as usual, falling to my knees upon my arrival. I then went to his bedroom and pulled the cover of the bed for him before taking off his shoes, laying him gently there and tucked him in. I had a glance of his eyes, shining with unshed tears, before he rolled away to hide his face away from me.
I sighed and sat down the bed, my hand patting his tense back before I bent down to give him a kiss on the head. "You know what, Draco Potter?" I said in such a soft voice I was sure that no one could hear it except him. "I love you whoever you are. You're my sunshine." (Disclaimer: Nickname taken from Debbie's nickname for Justin in Queer as Folk)
With that said I left him in his room and listened from the other side of the closed door as he sobbed silently in the moonlight, me sighing and leaning to the piece of wood because of my inability to take good care of him.
The next day, a warm Saturday, we still couldn't break the so-called ice that strained our newfound relationship. During breakfast, he sat on his usual chair around the small dining table, eating his usual cereal, with me sitting opposite to him, a cup of hot espresso in my hands. We ate in a tense silence, no smiles or greeting exchanged, and him not giving me a response on what I had told him yesterday.
Gods, how I would do anything to work out this situation.
Hermione and Alex came over after Breakfast (again, him and I doing dishes in an unnerving silence I began to hate so much) with Hermione apologising profusely for yesterday night's incident and Alex trying not to see my eyes all the while.
Draco replied her apology with a sweet smile. "It's not your fault at all, Aunt Hermione," he said graciously, while giving Alex a careful leer. The boy threw his gaze away the moment his hazel eyes met the silver eyes of my blonde son.
After that, Hermione suggested that we go out together to the Diagon Alley to buy something for Ron, whose birthday was coming soon, and underlining it, an attempt to fix the rough relationship between Alex and Draco and Draco and I. Having nothing to do at home, I agreed, so here we were hours later, sitting in the parlour of Florean Florestue(sp?), enjoying our ice creams, presents and preparation for the party all bought but the broken affiliation unfixed at all. I was getting very, very tired with it.
As I looked up from my double chocolate ice cream, I saw Alex and Draco, sitting tensely next to each other, eyes looking at other direction when they were caught looking at each other in wary alertness. This wasn't going to work. You never got to like Ron either, so perhaps…
"Harry," Hermione gasped suddenly, "I forgot to buy something from the Flourish and Blotts! Accompany me, would you? And boys, you needn't finish your ice creams now. We're going to be quick," the brunette pulled me up to my feet before storming out, dragging me with her.
Draco Potter and Alex Bilious Weasley stayed in their distrustful stillness, both could not wait to finish the day and flee from each other.
As they were waiting, aside from looking at each other from the corner of their eyes, they were also looking around at the crowd of witches and wizard walking around the busy Alley, Alex trying to find someone he knew, while Draco was looking interestedly at every new magical object he hadn't got the chance to see before. They continued in this fashion for a while before Alex saw an attractive girl and couldn't help gasping. "She's so pretty…"
Draco heard the statement, and out of curiosity, his eyes followed Alex's eyes, and found a pale small girl with long curly dark hair cascading down her back, her button nose small and cute, her face oval, her dark eyes large and beautiful. She was dropped by two adults at the ice cream parlour and was making her was to the counter when she felt eyes on her and turned.
The blonde couldn't help but to stand up from his seat. "A-alice…?" he stuttered unbelievingly.
The pretty little girl's face broke into a large smile before she practically ran through the chairs and wrapped her arms around Draco. "Dray!" she exclaimed happily.
Beside them, Alex was opening and closing his mouth in shock like a fish out of water.
Draco wrapped his small arms around her tentatively back before she released him slightly, still holding him within an arm length. "Long time no see!" the dark-haired girl said cheerfully, "how are you now, Dray?"
For the first time after yesterday, the grey-eyed boy smiled. "I'm fine, Alice," he replied, "I'd like to tell you that I have a new name though. It's Draco."
'Alice' truly released him then, blinking at the boy in front of her. "Draco?" she repeated.
The blonde boy nodded, tensing slightly. "Why, do you think it's weird?" he asked defensively.
The obsidian-eyed girl shook her head. "No, I don't think so. In fact, I think it's very nice," she smiled again, "since 'Draco' means dragon in Latin."
"Yeah," Draco sat back on his chair before eating his melting chocolate chip ice cream, "by the way, why are you here? Are you…?" the blonde inquired hesitantly.
The girl caught it up. "Oh, no, I'm a muggle. I was adopted soon after you were, and my new foster parents are wizards. They give me a new name too! It's Aria." Aria looked around a bit and noticed Alex, who was still gaping at her. "Is that your step brother?"
"NO!" Alex went out of his stupor and shouted, at the same time as Draco. "He's my stepfather's best friend's son," the blonde stated in irritation, gesturing Aria to sit on one of the seats.
Alex regained his composure and tried his best to look sophisticated, while Draco made puking notions behind his back. "I'm Alexander Bilious Weasley, Beautiful lady," he said politely and offered his hand.
Aria blinked more profusely than before. "O-okay," she took the hand uncertainly, "Aria Wood, nice to meet you too." The dark-eyed girl then sat on the seat next to Draco, much to Alex's disappointment.
The first thing I was aware of when I made my way back to the Florean Florestue(sp?) was the presence of a pale small girl with long curly dark hair and large and pretty obsidian eyes next to Draco, who was chatting animatedly and grinning to her, while Alex was sulking behind him, eyeing them with jealousy on his freckled face. I quickened my pace, my curiosity getting the best out of me.
The girl saw me approaching, and stood up, curtseying politely at me, "Good afternoon, Minister Potter," she greeted me before greeting Hermione as well. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley."
Draco looked up and surprisingly smiled at me. It was a thin one, but nevertheless, it was an improvement. He then turned to the girl and gestured at me. "Aria, this is my stepfather. Dad, this is Aria, my old friend from the Orphanage."
I smiled politely at her, as she blinked at me for a while before repeating, "Your foster dad is the Minister of Magic."
Draco nodded slowly, his grey eyes in bitter anticipation.
She opened her mouth to talk, and her next few words surprised we all, especially Alex, who had had a triumphant expression on his face since her repetition.
This Aria girl held Draco's hand and sighed. "It must be tough for you."
All of us blinked, especially Draco.
"Minister Potter must be quite busy making our world a better place to live," Aria said again, looking up at me with respect apparent in her dark eyes, "if you feel lonely, you're quite welcome at my home. One of my foster parents doesn't work." Suddenly she paused to glance at me, "that is, if Minister Potter allows, and if you want it too, of course."
"Harry," I smiled to her, "Call me Uncle Harry. Minister Potter somehow makes me feel old. I allow Draco to, of course. I notice how it can be a bit lonely being alone in our home. By the way, who is your foster father?"
"Oliver Wood," she answered me, never seeming to lose that bright smile that was plastered on her face. "I believe he was the Quidditch Captain of Gryffindor when you were requited into the team. He talks about you a lot."
I forced a laugh. "Good or bad?"
The little girl smiled at me again. "Good, of course," then her lips curled into an unbelievably evil smirk, "But you know him. When others tell their children stories about how you save the day, he prefers to tell me stories of how you save the matches with your Wrontski(sp?) Feints!"
I really laughed then, before leaning back to the chair, sitting more comfortably. "Why, are you good in Quidditch too, Aria?" I asked interestedly.
"Oh, I can't fly. I'm a muggle," She answered, still not losing her smile. Alex narrowed his eyes a bit as she turned to look at the boys next to her and beamed encouragingly at Draco, who seemed a little bit put out.
"Oh," I exclaimed dumbly, "It's peculiar that he…"
"Picks me up?" Aria turned to me again, her lips still curving to an everlasting smile, "Well, it wasn't him who picked me up, it was his partner. That's why I have a magical stepbrother who is…" she tilted her head to find the right words, "built for the kill!" (References made to National Geographic Channel)
She made Draco, Hermione and I laugh, while Alex frowned in confusion. We chatted on a bit, and I really liked her good personality, but somehow, seeing her being so close to Draco junior made my heart hurt. It was like reminding me that even though he was so similar to you, he was not you, and therefore, he would fall in love with someone else, who was most probably a female, like the nice girl sitting opposite to me, who saw me staring at her and smiled politely at me again.
Time flew. Before we even knew it, the day had turned to dawn, and we had to part. Aria stayed to wait to be picked up by Terry, while Hermione, Alex, Draco and I walked together to the Leaky Cauldron before parting, Alex with a really sour scowl on his face, glaring at my son all the while, while the blonde was smiling triumphantly back at him, trying to annoy the hell out of him. I laughed inwardly, thanking the Gods that the moods had gotten much better.
We took a bus back home, and while we were walking down the road in complete silence under the darkening night sky, I nudged him and grinned, "You seemed to be so close to Aria, eh, Draco?" I teased him, ignoring the pangs in my heart, "do you like her?" I joked, half dreading the answer.
Draco was quiet for a while before he answered me. "I do, Dad," he paused before looking up again, "but not in that way." His expression was solemn. I couldn't help but breathe out in relief. I kept on joking though. "Really? Not that way?"
"Really, dad," a hint of annoyance was creeping in his voice before his face broke into a mischievous smile. "But I managed to annoy the hell out of Alex, didn't I? He likes her, and yet she only talked to me." He chuckled evilly before halting abruptly and looked up at me with apologetic eyes. "Uh…Dad…I…"
"It's okay if you can't get along with Alex," I said quickly, not wanting it to go back like this morning, "Sometimes there are just some people you can't help disliking."
"Really?" he asked me, his eyes lighting up.
"Really," I said firmly before smiling reassuringly and bent down to him so that our eyes could be at the same level. "I don't want nasty fist-fights though. You call pull pranks at him, or mock him, just don't involve any fist-fight. Understand?"
Draco nodded seriously at me. "I understand, Daddy."
"Good," My face broke into a huge grin before I pinned him down and tickled him. "Now, this is your punishment for making me worried about you this morning."
The blonde shrieked, squirming and struggling before pushing me to my bums and ran from me, laughing all the way. I stood back up and chased him along the street, laughing with him too, making all people turned to look at us, a nearly thirty-year-old man chasing a nine-year-old blonde down the road. I managed to catch him just a moment after he managed to go past the fence and wrapped my arms around his small form from the back before crouching down and kissed him on the head, his hair so sleek and soft, like how yours used to feel against my lips. "I love you, Draco," I whispered fondly, my feelings purely fraternal.
Draco held my arms and breathed in deeply to regain his composure before whispering softly back. "I love you too, Dad."
We stayed outside for a while, watching the moon and the stars before fully getting our breath back and went into the house. "What do you want for dinner?" I asked him.
He paused to think for a while, before replying, "Something that actually has vegetables in it," a smirk gracing his face.
Some things never changed, and I hoped that it would stay like this at least until a long time in the future.
Years had passed. Things had happened as normal as it could be for me. I had been quite busy as the Minister of Magic. But let's not talk about it now.
This day was Draco Potter's eleventh Birthday. The boy told me that he didn't know when he was born and before he was adopted, he had never had any Birthday Parties, so I decided to pick the date in which I had adopted him to become his official Birthday. He agreed with me, so here we were, August 14th 2011, celebrating the party in our beloved house.
It wasn't big, the party. I always hated public parties, and it turned out to be that he liked private celebrations as well. Just like you. You used to tell me how much you hated the social gatherings held by Lucius in Malfoy Manor when you were still alive.
My son, who was so similar to you when we first met in Madam Malkin's shop, so alike that it hurt, was sitting on the couch, chatting animatedly with Aria, who was still a very close friend to him (and perhaps something more in the future?) and Alex, who had a really bored and nasty expression on his face as he stared at the blonde and the brunette in pure jealousy. Sitting on a seat adjacent to the sofa was me, watching them with amused eyes, as Hermione and Molly worked in the kitchen for the cake.
"Aria," I called the obsidian-eyed girl, who seemed to be getting more and more pretty these days, "where is your brother, John? I was hoping that he, Oliver and Theodore could come."
She still hadn't lost the smile. "Oh, Dad and Father are in the Diagon Alley, buying a new broomstick for Brother," she replied. John Wood, Aria's stepbrother, was going to be on his Fourth Year in Hogwarts as a Gryffindor, while Theodore Nott-Wood had turned out to be Oliver's partner. He had blinked profusely at Draco jr when he first met him, and the former Slytherin hadn't stopped looking at me with wary eyes ever since. "Because Brother had been made Keeper last year. Dad seems to be very happy," Aria finished.
Alex humped, causing us to shift our attention to him. "As soon as I'm old enough," he said haughtily, "I will be in Gryffindor Quidditch Team too, and I will have lots of friends in Hogwarts," he leered at Draco, smirking maliciously at him, rubbing at the fact that the young Weasley had received a letter stating that he was accepted in Hogwarts while the blonde had not.
Draco looked down at the floor, biting his bottom lip in anger and embarrassment. Everyone knew that he hated the fact that he was a muggle as well, unlike his much admired Dad, and he really despised the way Alex flaunted his magical ability like rubbing salt to his fresh wounds. Aria noticed the small changes and tried to cheer him up. "It is okay, Draco. You can go to St. Andrew's with me!" she said enthusiastically, "I heard that it's a very good school."
He caught her eyes and smiled weakly at her before lifting his head proudly. "You're right," he remarked, "I've always wanted to be a chemist."
Before Alex could say something scathing to the blonde (they never could get alone, really), Hermione and Molly entered the room with a large chocolate cake, 'Happy Birthday Draco' written in vanilla icing. The females set it down the glass table before grinning widely. "Come, Draco!" the pregnant brown-haired woman pulled the pale eleven-year-old boy up. "Let's sing together!"
We sung and clapped our hands, Alex doing so with a really bitter expression on his face. As soon as we finished one round of all birthday songs we knew, Draco bent down to blow his candles.
"Make a wish!" Hermione cried. The hazel-eyed woman really loved Draco a lot. Unlike Alex, Draco took a liking to studying and they liked to spend afternoons together discussing about science and sorts. I'd always thought that if you weren't a pureblood, you would like her a lot too.
The grey-eyed boy turned his full attention to the flicking flames of eleven candles scattered evenly on the round cake in front of him before closing his eyes. 'Please,' Draco wished inwardly as he began to take in air into his lungs, 'by any miracles, let me be a wizard!'
With that said, he blew all the flames out with a single huff.
We all clapped again then, and sat around him, giving him the presents, while some of the adults cut the cake. Draco opened the gifts with a smile on his lips, never huge like how he used to smile when he was nine. He thanked Molly and Hermione for giving him a green jumper and a book about Advanced Potions respectively and hugged them, before he grinned at Aria for giving him a harmonica. He had a really good sense of music, just the way I remembered you playing the Moonlight Sonata on the piano, lost in the tunes. He made me remember lots of memories about you that were almost lost in time…
Finally, the silver blonde got down to my present. He opened the brown wrapper carefully, still laughing in happiness, before the content slipped off his lap a bit, showing an old shimmering fabric. Draco Jr. looked at it with fascination apparent in his wide eyes and touched it, softly feeling it with his fingers, gasping as they disappeared under the material. He looked up at me. "D-dad…this…"
I stood up and approached him, smiling as I pulled the fabric and wrapped it around him, marvelling at how spellbound he seemed as he saw himself disappearing from view. "This, dear son," I whispered fondly as I crouched down, my forehead touching his "is an Invisibility Cloak, a Potter's family heirloom. It was my father's before I inherited it."
He stared into my green eyes with liquid silver orbs, unblinking and not breathing, waiting in anticipation.
"Like I said, Draco Potter, I don't care if you're a muggle or a wizard." I returned his gaze. "You're my son, and I love you."
His eyes shone with unshed tears, as I caressed his cheek and kissed his temple. He smiled back at me, a beautiful bright smile that took my breath away before muttering, "Thanks, Dad, I love you too."
Someone cleared his throat from behind me, and all of us turned around to see an old wizard in purple robes and starry hat looking at us, his blue eyes twinkling from behind his half-moon shaped glasses. Albus Dumbledore smiled and raised his old crinkled hand to greet us. "Good evening, Harry," he saluted, his voice still the same wise and merry old voice I used to hear when I was Draco jr.'s age.
Molly and Hermione dropped to their sofas, as I stood up and walked to the old Wizard in shock. I had seen him in some meetings sometimes, but it was very rare. To see him again up close after twelve years was a surprise, especially as I made it a point to avoid him. He made me remember of those dark days where I was only a weapon for the Light. "Headmaster!"
"Call me Albus, please, Harry," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again, "You are no longer my student. The little redhead will, won't you?" he smiled at Alex, who stopped gaping and beamed. "You're Headmaster Dumbledore!" he gasped.
Dumbledore nodded, and as he approached the children, his smile got even wider. "I wasn't aware that such a joyous occasion happens today," he mused before looking down at Draco jr and studied him, his amused blue eyes unnerving the boy. They then twinkled even more viciously than usual. "Well, then," Dumbledore slipped his hand inside his robe to retrieve something, "let this be my birthday present for you, Sunshine."
All eyes focused on the man's old hand as they held a letter offered to the pale and pointed eleven-year-old blonde.
'Could it be?' I asked myself, as Draco stared at Albus and the letter in his hand back and fro before taking the yellow piece of paper and opened it tentatively.
I reached over his shoulder to read the context and couldn't believe how happy I was.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September.
Both of us looked up incredulously at Dumbledore, who was sitting on a couch he had conjured, sipping the tea Molly had poured down for him. "I'm sorry that the letter comes up a little bit late, my dears," he smiled again, "The Ministry…wasn't sure whether you were a wizard or not."
"Pardon?" I asked, while Draco blinked at his future Headmaster. I knew that once every wizard or witch is born, regardless of their bloodline, their names would be recorded in the Ministry for future references, but since I had received no complain from the Department, I didn't presume that there was any problem…but… "What do you mean, the Ministry wasn't sure? They never said that there was any problem about it to me."
"Your name, my boy," Dumbledore petted my son's hair, "it isn't in the record in the Ministry of Magic. But I don't need the record. I could feel it – I could feel your magic around you. It took some time to persuade them to allow me to take you in, but nevertheless, here I am."
Draco stopped blinking and stared at the old Wizard in awe again. "Does that mean that I am…" he breathed.
"A wizard?" Dumbledore finished cheerfully, "yes, you are, my dear, and a powerful one at that."
"I-I am going to study in Hogwarts?" Draco asked hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry, not believing his luck. 'My wish had come true, oh my god, my wish had come true!'
"Yes, my dear," Albus nodded again, "yes."
"Thank Goodness!" Draco cried, before he turned to hug me, Aria, Molly, Hermione, and even Dumbledore – basically everyone – except Alex, who was looking at the scene with his mouth wide open and eyes that refused to believe. "It can't be true!" he argued, "Draco can't even fly!"
The old wizard turned to look at the young Weasley with unnerving twinkling eyes and petted his long white beard. "Can he?" he asked the younger male amusedly.
Alex continued to gape, rendered speechless.
"Congratulations, Draco," Aria smiled widely, hugging the blonde, "I'll pray for your happiness."
Suddenly, it dawned to the grey-eyed boy in the dark-haired girl's arms that he was going to separate from her. Draco lifted his hand to her hair, his eyebrows furrowing, "A-aria, I d-don't want to say goodbye-"
"Before I forget," Dumbledore reached for a letter from his robe again and offered it to the obsidian-eyed girl, "let me give this to you, young lady," the old Wizard smiled again.
Aria opened the parchment hesitantly and read. It was the same letter Dumbledore had given Draco.
"Again, I am sorry to be late," Albus sighed, "Your name was listed in the record. But due to your adoption, your name had been changed, and it took some time for me to find your new name, Ms. Aria Wood. I believe your name was Ms. Alice Elric?"
Aria shook her head slowly. "I was called Alice alright, but I don't know about my surname…"
"It's okay," The Headmaster replied, "a simple blood test can prove that. Now," He stood up and swished his wand, making the couch he conjured disappeared into thin air, "I believe I shall go. Please be there on 1 September, won't you?" He winked at Draco and Aria before Apparating away with a 'pop'.
All of us looked at each other in wonder once again, silence reigning over us, before Draco ran into my hug again. "I'm a wizard," he gasped into my ears as I cuddled him back, "I'm a wizard!" he cried again, much louder this time, "I'm a wizard, and I don't need to separate from Aria! It's awesome!"
We celebrated for this new cause up until late at night, leaving Alex sulking and scowling heavily at the corner.
Draco Jr. was nervous. I could see it though his mask from my position next to Albus. His grey eyes were darting everywhere alertly, trying to read the situations, his shoulders tense. Aria, who was walking to the Great Hall next to her childhood friend, following the greasy-haired Professor in black robes whose eyes had widened the moment he saw Draco Jr and touched his cheek, muttering, "Draco…Malfoy?" before regaining his composure, noticed the tension and smiled at him. "It's going to be okay," she encouraged softly, "everything is going to be okay."
The blonde turned at her and smiled. He couldn't count how many times he had owed her already.
The journey to the School had been wonderful. Draco had gaped at seeing the Lake, but it seemed to be that Aria and he were the only two people who could see the black horses carrying the carriages, and he had to wonder about it.
It wasn't the only thing that made him feel wary, though. All throughout his trip from King Cross, people had been pointing at him, looking at him with either wide astonished or narrowed eyes. All of them were saying the same things. The people were either mistaking him for Draco Malfoy, whose picture he had seen once when he was nine, or wanting to know him because he was the foster son of the Great Harry Potter. To be frank, Draco was very annoyed with them.
Also, meeting with those people who admired his Dad very much made him know more about Hogwarts and its houses, that Slytherin was where every bad guys came from, and about him, that his Dad was a Gryffindor, the youngest Seeker in history, Quidditch Captain in his last year, and awesome in DADA. Draco began to feel very scared. What is he couldn't live up to his Wonderful Dad? Would he be disappointed if he didn't become a Gryffindor?
"Do you see the blonde one there? The one so pale that he could almost pass for a vampire? That is Minister Harry Potter's son." Draco heard someone muttered, and he felt even more irritated, and scared. As he walked down the way to the High Table, he could hear more things, like "Do you think he's going to be a superb Seeker as well?", and they made his stomach squirm in nervousness. To avoid seeing other's interested eyes, he shifted his gaze to the Staff table. My eyes met his and I smiled receptively at him.
Draco smiled at me back, his stomach feeling better than before.
At last, the crowd of First Years stopped walking and waited as Professor Snape carried a stool and an old tattered Hat in front of them. He explained briefly to them about the Sorting and the let Hat impress the new students with its song before he began the process.
At first, Draco had wanted to pay attention. He counted the number of new members each house was getting, but eventually, he got lost in his worries, and forgot about others. What if there was a mistake? What if he wasn't a wizard after all and that he would have to be sent back on the train? After all, like Alex had said, he couldn't fly, left alone cast spells with wands.
So far was Draco in his musings that before he even realised it, the Sorting was down to his name already.
The Hall went silent, as many craned their necks to look at him. Those who didn't know that he was him (whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean, anyway) bustled about him, as he sat on the stool and wore the big hat that threatened to steal his sight for a moment.
Look who we've got here, a small voice said at his ears, Well, I shall be glad to get to read your mind for real this time.
'Please, let me be a Gryffindor, please let me be a Gryffindor,' Draco chanted in his head.
Gryffindor? The voice sounded mocking. Hell, no! You have a potential as a Ravenclaw, but you are no Gryffindor. I know who your foster dad is, but I'm sorry I can't put you there. It will be against your nature. I must put you where you are most suitable, so it will be…
The bustle turned into thick silence as Draco put down the Hat to the stool and turned to walk to the Slytherin table, his grey eyes very wide, his shoulders slumped, everything around him seeming to move in a slow motion. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. He had been put to the Dark guys' House. Gods, what were people going to say about it?
What was his Gryffindor Dad going to say about it?
Draco kept on staring down at the table with wide unbelieving eyes. He refused to turn to look at the Sorting, especially when 'Weasley, Alexander!' was called, followed by a loud roar of 'GRYFFINDOR!' No. Even Alex could be a Gryffindor. Why couldn't he? His sight became a little bit blurry, but he refused to cry.
Aria watched Draco's slumped back with concerned eyes, sending a light glare at Alex's direction as he sneered at the blonde from his position in the Gryffindor Table. She knew how much Draco wanted to be in Gryffindor, and she couldn't help but ball her fist.
The pretty dark-haired girl stepped up to sit on the stool, smiling at those who catcalled and whistled to her, before wearing the Hat.
Aria reckoned that the voice must have belonged to the Hat. 'Hello, Sorting Hat. Can you do me a favour? I want to be a Slytherin,' she asked sweetly.
But, dear! The Hat sounded surprised, you have a potential as a Slytherin, but you are far better suited as a Ravenclaw. Are you sure that you want to be a Slytherin?
Aria smirked. 'Positive.'
Very Well, it sighed, 'SLYTHERIN!'
Draco did turn around a bit then, and watched as Aria put down the Hat and walked to him, still smiling at everyone who catcalled at her. The blonde moved down to give her some space to sit and in the process caught sight of how angry and jealous Alex seemed to be. The pale boy turned to her as she sat down next to him, still beaming, and answered the unspoken question. "The Hat told me I was better suited as a Ravenclaw, but I refused. I want to be a Slytherin."
The grey-eyed boy frowned confusedly. "Why?" he asked.
Aria's smile softened, "because, dear Draco," she chuckled and squeezed his hand under the table, "I want to be at the same House as you. Is that weird, seeing that we have been friends since we were five?"
A grin broke on Draco's face, before he squeezed her hand back and said, "Thank you very much, Ar."
Soon enough, the Sorting was finished. Headmaster Albus rose to give a short speech, all the while looking at Draco with twinkling blue eyes, before the Welcoming Feast started. Draco tried his best not to look at me though, afraid that he would see disappointment in my eyes.
If only he knew that I was smirking inwardly because he was so similar to you…
As Draco was eating and chatting to Aria, someone squeezed his way next to him and nudged him. The blonde turned and saw a boy with dark blue eyes and brown hair offering his hand to him.
"Hi, the name's Jesse," he smiled, "Jesse Zabini. Bit girlish, I know, but Da was the one who gave it. What's your name, son of mighty Minister?" he said in a joking tone, making Draco feel more at ease.
"Draco," the blonde took his hand and smiled back, "Draco Potter. And the girl next to me is Aria Wood."
"How do you do?" Aria smile from behind Draco and offered her hand, which was taken by the brunet. "Nice to meet you, babe!" Jesse remarked, and all three of us laughed.
The blue-eyed boy then leaned to the duo and glanced at Alex, who was still staring at them with hatred and envy. "Who's that carrot top?" he asked in annoyance, "I don't like him."
"The feeling's mutual," Draco smirked, "he's been a downright arsehole since I first met him."
"Well, then," Zabini gave an evil grin, "we're going to do something, aren't we?"
Aria smiled, and Draco nodded immediately. Perhaps, being a Slytherin wasn't so bad, after all…
Soon enough, the Feast was over. The students sang the school song before going out to their respective dorms. Draco was standing behind Jesse Zabini, who looked a lot like Blaise, and Aria when I approached him and smiled at him. "Can I have but one moment with my son?" I asked the Prefect.
The ash-blonde boy blushed and nodded, not believing his mouth.
"Thanks," I said to him before holding his hand and walked away with him.
We walked until we reached an empty corridor before I turned to face him and bent down to see his eyes. "How is Hogwarts? Do you like it?" I grinned.
He looked at me hesitantly before stuttering. "D-dad, a-aren't you an-angry that I am in S-Slytherin? I know that you were a Gryffindor…"
I gazed at him fondly before leaning my forehead against his. "Let me tell you a little secret, Draco," I whispered clandestinely, "I was supposed to be in Slytherin too."
His grey eyes widened, much like how you reacted back then when I told you this too. "Really?" he gasped.
"Really, really," I responded honestly, "But I talked my way out of it. Up until now, the Hat still probably thinks that I am better suited in Slytherin, and sometimes I myself wondered if it could have been better if I were a Slytherin."
I then stood up and smiled down at him. "But what's passed cannot be changed. I am not angry that you are in Slytherin, no, far from it," then my smile became somewhat evil. "Happy prank days, though, Draco, and remember," I cupped his face and kissed his head, "I love you no matter who you are."
The blonde boy responded by kissing my cheek. "Me too, Dad," he stated softly.
I smiled again before pushing him to the direction where we came from. "Go back, Draco, they mustn't be too far away," I turned a bit sideways, "Daddy have to talk to someone. See you at Christmas Holiday, Draco."
Draco nodded firmly before turning back, "See you, Dad."
I watched the boy until he completely disappeared out of my view at the corner before asking to the darkness, "what do you want, Severus?"
The deputy Headmaster came out of the shadows, his face looking much older than before the war, and walked towards his ex-student, the one his Godson had died for. "Who the hell was he, Potter?" The name 'Harry' didn't sound right to his mouth, after all.
"Honestly?" I sighed before turning to face my old Potion Professor and the Godfather of my deceased lover, "I don't know, Severus. I have no bloody idea why he looks so much like him. Nevertheless," I moved past the dark-eyed man and pleaded softly, "Please take care of him, Severus."
It wasn't until I was out of the Entrance Hall did Severus Snape answered, "Of course, Potter."
A/N: It was supposed to be a very long one-shot, but I guess it'll be too big, so I split it. Tell me what you think about it.
By the way, Happy Belated Birthday Harry! (I'm so sorry that I forgot it...school works and all that...)