Chapter 2
The Malfoy Manor Grounds, Early Morning**
*The air was thick with the scent of fresh rain, the grass wet beneath Draco’s boots as he stood by the large oak tree in the garden. His eyes were narrowed, distant, as if trying to focus on anything but the storm inside his mind.*
James Potter was going to be his stepfather. The thought still didn’t sit right with Draco. His father’s death had already left a hole in their family, but this—this was too much. The Potters had always been the enemy, and now, James Potter was meant to be the protector of everything his father had built.
"Draco."
The voice made him stiffen, a sharpness in the air that only Harry Potter could bring. Draco didn’t turn around, the weight of his thoughts too heavy to carry on top of Harry’s presence.
"What is it now, Potter?" Draco said coldly, though the anger bubbling inside him was hard to hide.
Harry stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. "You’ve got a lot of nerve," he said, his voice low but filled with a venom that Draco couldn’t ignore. "Marrying my mum’s old rival isn’t going to make your family any less... tainted."
Draco’s hands clenched into fists. He had been trying to avoid this confrontation, but it seemed inevitable. "What do you know about family, Potter? You’ve always had everything handed to you on a silver platter. What’s a little more control to you?"
Harry’s face flushed, and he took a step forward. "And you think marrying my dad’s enemy is going to fix everything for you? You really think that’s going to make your life easier, Malfoy?"
"Don’t call him that," Draco snapped, his voice sharper now, the hurt in it raw. "My father’s dead, and the last thing I need is *you* making everything harder. I never asked for this! I never asked for your father to come into our lives and make it worse!"
Harry took a deep breath, the tension crackling between them. “I didn’t want him in our lives either, but at least it’s better than watching everything you’ve built crumble. That’s what you’re really worried about, isn’t it? That everything your father worked for will fall apart without the right connections.”
"Of course, I’m worried about it," Draco spat, frustration rising in his chest. “My whole life is tied to that estate. To the Malfoy name. And now, it’s all in the hands of *him*." He gestured toward the manor, where James and Narcissa were inside, probably finalizing details of their absurd new life together.
Harry’s expression softened just a fraction, though his eyes still held a storm of their own. “It’s not just about the name, Draco. It's about what comes with it. The people you have to *become* to keep it. You want that for yourself? For your mother?”
Draco paused, his breath shaky, the reality of Harry’s words sinking in. He had never thought about it that way. The estate, the name—everything his father had insisted was important—was now a shackle, something that bound him and his mother to a future they never wanted.
“What would you have me do, then?” Draco asked, the anger in his voice gone, replaced by a desperate weariness. “Just let it all go? Watch my family lose everything we’ve built?”
Harry’s voice softened now, and for the first time, he seemed to really see Draco—not just as a rival, but as someone who had been forced into an impossible situation.
“I don’t have the answers for you,” Harry said quietly. “But I know this isn’t the way forward. And you’re right… it’s not easy for either of us. I’m not looking for a friend in you, Malfoy. But maybe… maybe we should stop fighting each other for once.”
Draco turned away, the sound of the rain tapping against the leaves above them drowning out everything else. He was still angry. But there was something about Harry’s words that made him hesitate. A crack in the wall he’d built around himself.
“I didn’t ask for this,” Draco repeated quietly, more to himself than to Harry. “I didn’t ask for any of it.”
Harry said nothing more, but he didn’t walk away either. He just stood there, a small, awkward understanding passing between them. Not a friendship—not yet. But something else. Something that would eventually force both of them to confront their shared burdens, their grudges, and their family legacies.