Dancing with Fire

It’s noon the next day when Sirius realizes he has to drag himself out of bed.

In his humble, totally unbiased opinion, leaving the bed when someone else was inside it should be illegal. Leaving the bed when Remus is still sleeping is unheard of, but he’s hungry and really has to pee so sacrifices have to be made. 

Narcissa, after looking through files for ages, had left at midnight, giving the men time to thoroughly clean one bedroom and fall into freshly made sheets. They’d have to put in a lot of work to make this place feel like a home, but it’s starting to look a little better. Krecher already has coffee waiting for him by the mantle, so he figures maybe hope isn’t lost. Finding a way to renovate a home when you’re a wanted criminal sounds like the type of challenge he’s been missing, plus it would make for a fun story when he finally got Dumbledore to cave and let Harry live with them. 

Another challenge, but that one seems a little more impossible than finding a new sofa for the drawing room. Krecher flashes in, leaving a plate of his once favorites out and before he can think he’s blurting out ‘thank you’ and getting a kind smile he hadn’t known the elf to possess. As much as it bugs him, he forgets about it the second Remus walks in. 

Hair still messed up from sleep, shirtless and in pants a little on the big side, yawning and making Sirius’s heart double in size.

“Morning, gorgeous.”

He gets a half committal noise back as Remus makes his way to brush back curly black hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. 

“Woke up ‘n you were gone.”

“Just hungry is all, Krecher made coffee.”

As if on cue, Krecher appears in the room, holding out a cup for Remus who’s mouth falls open.

“Why?” He asks, staring at the cup like it’s full of illicit drugs.

The elf bows, “Master Regulus loved his brother, and I be loving Master Regulus. Master Sirius and Mistress Narcissa were the only ones to show kindness to him, he talked about you lots before he died. I be honoring my Master’s memory is all, sir.”

Well, Sirius never thought he’d be reduced to tears by a house elf, but he managed to survive not only a war but Azkaban too, so anything is possible. 

After his hideous meltdown, he refuses to admit that he had hugged Krecher and cried like a baby, they start on the kitchen. The three of them work quietly at first, the only noise pots and pans moving, but then Sirius brings the awful boombox he’d gotten when he moved into his own place and before he knows it he and Remus are dancing around the kitchen to some muggle named Elton John, and then Krecher changes the tune after they accidentally break one plate. 

Not that it ends well for the elf because by then they’re almost done, and it’s nearly five. Hazy sunlight fills the room and they’re covered in dust, but the song is slow. Sirius isn’t really sure how they end up there, it could be Remus swatting him with a towel, or when Sirius ‘accidentally’ splashed him with water, or maybe when he tried to run from the man’s payback and somehow ended up in his arms. It doesn’t matter much, because before they know it they’re dancing. 

He can see the sunset streaming in from the windows, and Remus looks stunning in the golden glow. Everything is suddenly perfect. Talking quietly through kisses, swaying to the beat neither of them know. Half of him expects Lily to walk in and demand to know what’s taking so long, only to squeal. He can see James rushing in and then laughing, pulling her in for a dance so the four of them can sway together like they did at the school balls. They’d switch partners like they always did and dinner would end up a little burned but no one ever minded. Peter would join them later, fussing about how long it took to get here, or how Lily should be more careful not to hurt the baby in her stomach. 

Their dance gets sad from there because it’s just a memory. Lily and James were gone, Peter a traitor. Remus and Sirius, they’re all that’s left. So he commits it to memory, the two of them dancing alone in the kitchen, and when he presses his forehead into Remus’s shoulder he can almost hear his dead friends teasing. They don’t even notice their guests until he hears a throat clear and nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Merlin, Sissy! You have got to stop doing that! You’re gonna give us a heart attack!” 

“I’ve been calling your name for three minutes.”

Remus flushes, keeping his arm wrapped around Sirius and reminding himself that they are grown adults, not teenagers caught snogging in a broom closet. “Yes, well. We were um, rather busy.”

Narcissa groans and shakes her head, but there’s a faint smile on her lips. Sirius makes to hug her in greeting but then a different voice cuts them off.

“Is it safe yet, mother?”

They both freeze, looking at her with wide eyes but her smile only widens. Not in the threatening way they’re both so used to, just warm and happy. 

“It’s safe.” Is all she says, and then Draco peeks his head in the room, as if making sure no funny business is happening. When he spots them a smile breaks out onto his face.

The young man steps fully into the room, looking his age for once and not like a thirty year old stressed out ministry employee. At first Sirius is sure he’s about to engage into an awkward staring competition, but Draco simply throws himself at them. They catch him in a hug they’re too shocked to fully comprehend.

“Hi Uncle Sirius! Hi Uncle Lupin!”

Remus freezes, looking over to Narcissa who still has that warm smile, only with a blush over her cheeks. Sirius clears his throat, “Hello to you too, cousin.” 

Draco pulls away and rolls his eyes, “Oh come off it, we both know you’re the brother Mum never had, and I’m almost positive you and Professor Lupin are married, so he’s family too.”

Sirius sputters, he can feel Remus breaking down beside him. Narcissa snorts.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s right of course, but he’s being a brat because I didn’t let him bring LuLu.”

“No, I’m being a brat because you poisoned my hot chocolate.”

“For the last time it was not poisoned, I just needed to make sure you couldn’t lie to me.”

Sirius laughs in spite of himself, “Did she trick you with Veritaserum too?”

Draco whirls to him and nods frantically, “Twice! I’ve fallen for it twice now!”

“It’s your own fault for being too gullible.”

“It was hot chocolate! Putting potions in my hot chocolate is sacrilegious!”

“To what religion?” Sirius asks, completely amused by the whole conversation.  

“The….the...I dunno, I think of one eventually-”

Narcissa chuckles, coming behind the boy to put an arm around his shoulders in a half hug.

“Shall we convene in the drawing room?”

“Probably,” Remus finally speaks up, “But mine and Sirius’s coffee cups might still be in there.”

“Nonsense, Krecher would never leave a mess lying around.” the Blacks say together, much to Draco’s amusement. He turns those grey eyes on Remus after a moment of watching his mother laugh.

“You drink coffee, Professor Lupin?”

“Remus.” 

Sirius stops laughing, eyeing his boyfriend and cousin closely.

“Sir?” Draco asks. Sirius is suddenly struck by how much better he looks. His eyes have life in them, like some hope had returned, and he wasn’t limping or flinching in pain….some time on the Malfoy Island must have done him good. The train of thought screeches to a halt when his lover speaks.

“Well, if you really think of Sirius and I as your family, then you should probably call me Remus. I’m not a teacher anymore, you know.” 

Draco beams. The smile so bright Sirius wants nothing more than to protect him and keep him from looking like the sad, helpless boy he had spoken to at the top of the Astronomy tower.

“Uncle Remus.”

Narcissa rolls her eyes, “Don’t push it.”

The four of them make their way to the drawing room and settle in the ugly chairs Sirius swears he’s going to burn one day.

“So, what brings you back?” Sirius asks, eyeing Draco just to make sure he’s okay. 

The teen shrugs, “Don’t look at me, she’s the one who dragged me here.”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to see us?”

“Now, now, cousin, I didn’t say that.”

Sirius smiles at him, moving his eyes over to a suspiciously quiet Narcissa fiddling with her tea cup.

“Sissy?”

She jumps, looking a little too guilty for any one person, and then sighs. “I have an idea, and none of you are going to like it but it has to be done.”

He gets the feeling that this is going to a common occurrence in his new life. “What is it?”

“Draco, darling.” Narcissa turns to her son, Draco gives her a look so full of suspicion he almost burst into laughter. But then Narcissa continues, “You know the Quidditch World Cup?”

Draco nods, a little eagerly.

“Yes, well, I need you to attend it.”

Sirius has to cover his ears so they’re not damaged by Draco’s victory whoop. “Really?! You got tickets?! Why wouldn’t I like this?!”

“Because I need you to take your father with you.”

Draco’s face falls flat but it’s Sirius who roars, “Excuse me?!”

“His father?!” Remus continues, “You want him to be alone with Lucius?!”

“I love you, mother. I really do, but I have to go with my uncles on this one.”

Narcissa huffs, “For the last time they are your cousins! Not your uncles, and hear me out you two, before you jump to any rash decisions. If the Dark Lord- sorry, Draco- if Riddle rises, where do you think he and his Death Eaters will come? Just like last time they’ll want to be at the Manor and I cannot allow that to happen. I’ve already found the protective and repellent wards we can use, but I’ll need a minimum of ten hours to do it by myself, five if I have help from you two. I also can’t do it with Lucius in the house because he’ll know what I’m up to and try to stop me, but if Draco takes him to the World Cup, I can work freely. Plus, you act like I don’t put my son over everything. Do you know how many witnesses are there? How much security? Lucius has seats reserved in the Minister’s box for every home game, they’ll be sitting next to dozens of Aurors on top of security guards and powerful wizards, I assure you I wouldn’t propose this if I hadn’t thought it through. I’ve already had a portkey made, enchanted Draco’s robes for protection, and broached the topic with Lucius.”

Draco stares at her. “So you want me to take Lucius to the game so you can extra ward the house and keep crazy, homicidal maniacs off our doorstep.”

“Yes.”

“I guess I really don’t have much of a choice then, do I?”

At least if the game was awful Harry would be watching it surrounded by beautiful men. 

Because Bill and his weird feelings for Draco aren’t enough, Mr. Wealsey managed to force him to come face to face with one of the hottest Quidditch players he’d ever seen. A Hufflepuff six year Seeker that Harry really never paid attention to when they were off the field but now….when the fuck was he going to stop running into attractive men? Shouldn’t he be finding women attractive?

Before Harry can really ponder over that he’s led into the stadium and his brain stops for a moment. 

Fuck becoming an Arour if he managed to defeat Moldy Old Riddle, he was going to be a professional Quidditch player purely for the fucking stadium. 

It’s huge! Like at least all of London could fit into it, stands completely packed, cheering fans on either side, and he’s following an attractive man to their seats? This can’t be real. Like Cedric was trying to prove to Harry that everything happening around them is a dream, he stops in the middle of the stairway.

“Oh! Stay right there, I’ll be right back.” 

Harry watches him go, and then he sees who he’s going to and nearly trips.

Draco Malfoy greets the boy with a smile and an outstretched hand. He looks bigger, stronger, somehow happier and Harry is smart enough to know it’s because of the man a few isles next to him looking like he’s about to fall over. Why Draco was here with his father is a complete mystery that Harry kinda needs to know the answer to. Especially when said evil father is casually chatting with the Minister of Magic himself. It’s to make sure he’s safe! Not because something about how Draco looks at Cedric rubs him the wrong way.

“Malfoy.” Harry says, realizing far too late that his body is moving without his brain following.

How can his brain follow anything but the soft smile Draco gives him? They don’t shake hands, they can’t be seen together like this in public, but for a moment he sees something soft flash across silver eyes and it warms him to his core. 

“Potter,” Draco tries to sneer back, but it’s practically a relieved sigh. Had he been worrying? “Father got us seats in the Minister’s Box.”

He knows that to Cedric it must sound like Draco’s bragging, but Harry knows it’s code for ‘I’m safe’ so he sends his own code back.

“Happy, are you?”

Draco’s smile is going to be the death of him, “Ecstatic.”

He wants to say more, to argue or start a fight because it’s Draco and he hasn’t seen his friend all summer and his dad was an abusive prick so Harry knows the boy is hurting and wants to say something comforting, but a blonde is turning him around with a squeal before he can. She’s stunning. Tall and thin, yet strong muscles poking out beneath her perfectly pressed outfit. Not a strand of that silver blonde hair is out of place despite the humidity. 

“Draco?” She purrs, much too excited for Harry’s liking, “Est-ce vous?”

He doesn’t follow, but Draco apparently does.

“Fleur!” He throws his arms around her and Harry has to admit she isn’t as pretty as he originally thought she was. “C'est si bon de te voir! Comment vas-tu mon amour?”

Harry doesn’t know shit about other languages, but he does know ‘mon amour’ is French for ‘my love’ thanks to a kick Aunt Petunia got on a few years ago when Uncle Vernon made noises about wanting to go to Paris. He also knows that whatever’s happening here, he doesn’t like it. So when Cedric says ‘bye’ for them both and leads him away he doesn’t complain at all.

That is until he’s dragged into a corridor and rounded on, “Is there something between you and Malfoy?”

Harry blinks. “W-what?! No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Come off it, Harry. You looked over the moon to see him, and you got jealous when that girl showed up? She’s gorgeous, and I get it! I’d be jealous if Krum went anywhere near Cho, but Cho and I also aren’t sworn enemies!”

Harry sputters at him, “Look! There is nothing going on between me and that- that- that scumbag! I was just happy to see his father in pain is all! Now are we going to the gift shop or not?” He pushes past the other boy, not knowing where he’s going so thankfully Cedric does take the lead again and before he knows it he’s looking at tons of wild stuff, Ron and Hermione snickering over miniature flying Firebolts.

He remembers Draco complaining last year when Harry got his Firebolt from Sirius. “It’s just not fair! How am I supposed to beat you now- you’re already a pretty okay player but now you’re just cheating!”

Harry grabs one of the miniature brooms and three Omnioculars despite Ron’s protests.

“You won’t be getting anything for Christmas,” he lies as he hands over his money, knowing perfectly well there was no way in hell he’d stick to that. Call him selfish, but the look of joy on his friend’s face when they can actually see the game was worth every cent.

Lucius knows something is wrong even before he’s fully awake.

The game had been spectacular, partly because it was something normal that made him feel less like a monster, but mostly because he’d gotten to see Draco come alive in a way he hadn’t seen since the boy was ten years old and running after fireflies in the gardens. His son had yelled and screamed and cheered when the Irish won, excitedly pointing at Viktor Krum like he hung the moon and stars and Lucius had soaked in every second of it, not bothering to conceal his smile. 

When they returned to their tent Draco had still been basking in the glow of the win and it meant more to him than anything else in the world.

And then the pain started. 

At first it was a light prick on his arm, he’d thought he’d bumped it into something as he fell asleep. But now it was a painful throb that had him scrambling out of bed, knocking several things off his nightstand and waking up Draco in the process of standing.

“Father?” The boy groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

Lucius felt his heart squeeze at the sight, but the pain in his arm was starting to worsen. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Lucius was already exiting the tent and freezing at the sight before him.

In the sky, you couldn’t miss it even if you were blind, is the same mark that brands his arm for all of eternity. A skull with a snake nearly dancing around it, the Dark Mark, green and very much real.

The flashbacks come next, nailing him to the spot as he thinks of all the other times he’d seen it, of what this means for the innocent boy he’d hurt. What it means for Narcissa…

Draco’s beside him with a gasp before he can react further, hand digging into his arm almost more painful than the pressure already there. 

“We”- his son takes a few steadying breaths- “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Lucius nods, already turning towards the tent to get dressed. They didn’t trust him enough to give him his wand back, and he understands why. He didn’t even miss it until this moment because it would be far more useful than Draco, who seems like he’s on the verge of a panic. 

He pauses for a moment as the boy slips on shoes and grabs the wand from his bed, and then shakes the cowardice away.

“Draco.”

The look of astonishment and anger on his son’s face hurts so fucking much.

“Don’t worry, you can do this. We’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’m surprised you’re not begging me to let you join them.”

Lucius grinds his teeth at the insult, deciding to play dumb even though he knows exactly what it means, “Why would I want that?”

And in truth, why would he? He’s had enough of the Death Eaters for a lifetime. No one could be in that group and stay sane. Not with all the torture and killing, the rape and brutality of it all. Not when it meant looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.

Or betraying the trust of your wife and son.

Lucius shakes his head, leading Draco outside so they can pack up the tent. It’s shrunk and in Draco’s hand when all hell breaks loose.

Screams come from the left and right, he hears shouts, people cursing and then he sees magic flying through the air. People start running from their tents, waking as many people up as they can, warning, casting shields, yelling which way is safe. Lucius looks to Draco, makes sure they have everything, and then he grabs his son’s hand and runs away from the green and red flashes.

“Where are we going?!” Draco screams, casting a protection spell he’s fully aware no fourteen year old should know around them.

“Away from here!” Lucius yells back, “Someplace we can use the portkey!” 

Once again, it would be so much easier if he had his wand so they could Apparate back to the manor, but luck is not on his side and he doubts he’ll have earned that so soon. The two of them are swept up in the crowd, filled to the brim with terror. Some people don’t even bother packing up, he hears parents yelling to ‘leave! We can come back later!” Children are crying, mothers counting to make sure they have everyone. Left and right families are disappearing, him and Draco so close to the safe point he has in mind.

And then Draco stops, pulling Lucius to a stop with him. He follows the boys gaze to a group of redheads, and in the middle of them, Harry fucking Potter.

“Draco!” He yells over the screams, “We’ve got to go! It’s not safe here!”

Draco looks back at him, and the right at Potter, apparently caught in the middle of making a very difficult decision. He can barely hear him over the commotion around them, but by Merlin can he read lips.

“They’ll kill him…”

“They’ll kill us!”

Lucius has a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he knows what Draco is going to do before he does it.

Hard grey eyes meet his, his son looks like more of a man than he knows he’ll ever be. “I can’t leave him.” Is all the boy says before tearing his hand out of Lucius’s grasp and running towards the group and he knows the pain is starting to get unbearable but that’s his fucking son and he’s not about to let him die. He’s lost enough family, he won’t lose anyone else. So Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater, the man who hates Muggles and Mudbloods and even the fucking Weasleys goes running after his son, wishing once again for a damned wand so he can be useful to his child that clearly inherited his backbone from his mother.

Draco doesn’t give a shit if his father follows. Right now only three things matter to him.

There are Death Eaters nearby.

Harry is in the middle of the madness.

If he doesn’t get to Harry the boy could die.

So Draco goes bounding to them, running smack into Hermione who screams, and then hugs the air out of him the second she realizes who it is.

“Draco!”

“Draco?” Voices echo around him, and then two other arms are around him, one he recognizes as Harry’s, so the other one must be Ron. He pulls away from them, making a quick headcount. 

Four Weasleys, Ronald, the girl one, and the twins, plus Hermione, Harry and himself. A total of seven, he can do this.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” He screams, right before a look of fear comes over his friend’s face and he hears his father yelling his name.

“Draco!”

Fuck.

He expects a fight, some bullshit about how none of the people in front of him matter, so he rounds and steps in front of them, shoulders squared and jaw set.

“I’m not leaving them!” He shouts.

And to his and everyone else’s surprise Lucius doesn’t even blink. He grabs Draco by the shoulders and shouts, “And I’m not leaving you!” 

Before he can process what that means, Hermione gasps beside him and he turns in time to see them. Actually fucking see them.

The masked figures that once plagued the hallways of his home, marching in a tight formation, carrying to people, no, muggles, above them. The grounds keeper and his family…. Draco feels the urge to vomit, but then his father curses behind him.

“They’re after Muggles and Muggle Sympathizers, which all of you are. We need to go. Now!”

Draco knows it’s stupid, but he has a wand and his father doesn’t, so really, how stupid can it be? He looks around at the scared group of teenagers, and then at Potter who seems to be forming a plan. Draco locks eyes with his father.

“If you betray us, it will cost you your life.”

Lucius nods, “I expect nothing else.”

Draco turns to the group, grabbing whoever’s hand is nearest. “Link hands! We can’t be separated! We’re going to have to run but you cannot let go!”

Harry nods beside him and it’s then that Draco realizes who’s hand he’s gripping tightly. It calms him, gives him a clearer mind in this mess. After one final nod between the two of them, Draco turns to his father. 

“Lead the way.”

They run, full out sprint to the forests nearby, and they don’t stop until they’ve passed the veelas and the teenagers they surround. The group passes Mr.Bagman who gives them a bewildered look until Lucius shouts ‘You need to get your ass to the campsite!’

And when Mr. Bagman asks why, ‘Death Eaters’ is a sufficient response.

Picking up the pace once more, Draco almost runs smack into a house elf he knows to be Mr. Crouch’s. He has to stop then, just so he won’t trip and he’d like to tell her to watch where she’s fucking going but Harry cuts him off.

“Winky! What are you doing here?”

The elf, Winky, turns to them with wide eyes, “There be bad wizards about Mr. Potter! Winky is scared! Winky doesn’t like these wizards!” and then, before anyone can do anything, she’s gone.

They keep running until they reach the heart of the forest, and only then does Lucius turn and do a headcount before addressing the Weasley crew.

“Where is your father? I know he’s here, I saw him with the Minister.”

Fred and George say nothing, so Ginny rolls her eyes and steps forward, “He went to help the Ministry.”

“While his children were here?! What if something happened to you?”

Fred scoffs, “Why would you care?”

For a second Draco is a hundred percent sure his father is going to find a way to curse the twin with wandless magic, and then to his surprise Lucius softens. “You’re just children….”

And because it’s not already awkward enough, Harry picks that moment to rip his hand free from Hermione’s, naturally keeping Draco’s hand in his, and starts rummaging through his pockets.

“Oh shit.”

“What?” Draco asks tiredly, because he really needs the night to calm down a bit.

“My wand- it’s not. It was in my pocket when we left.”

Ron groans, Draco fully agrees, but it’s Lucius who sighs. “You’ve lost your wand, Potter?”

Harry meets his gaze albeit a little sheepishly, “Well, I am just a child, sir.”

Once again shocking Draco, Lucius snorts. Actually, honest to Merlin, snorts, like it’s normal to help his son save his enemy and then laugh about it in the middle of the woods with Death Eaters nearby. He almost busts into insane giggles, and then Lucius straightens, eyes going above their heads and out into the distance.

“Get behind me-”

“MORSMORDRE!”

A look of pure terror comes across his father’s face as green light shoots into the sky and the Dark Mark is looming over them.

“Run.” Lucius says, strained. And then he grabs Draco’s hand and the rest link automatically and they’re sprinting all over again, running as fast as they can until a voice screams ‘stupefy’ and his father hits the ground.

A few hexes fly past them, Draco pulls Harry behind him so he’s safe and then a familiar voice calls out and he’s never been more happy to hear a Weasley in his life.

“Wait! Those are my kids!”

 Father Weasley runs to them, gathering up his children in his arms and doing a quick count of them.

“Fred, George, oh thank god. Ron! Ginny! Where are Ron and-there you are. Are you hurt? No? Thank Merlin- Harry, Hermione, you’re alright? Good and-” his eyes widen, “Draco Malfoy?”

Harry tenses at his side and then a colder, yet still unfortunately familiar voice cuts through them.

“Move.”

Mr. Crouch walks through the children, giving Draco a glare that would rattle him if he wasn’t, well, him. The man doesn’t stop moving until he’s in front of Lucius and pointing his wand and the paralyzed body.

“You! You cast it didn’t you! You conjured the Dark Mark, didn’t you, you dirty-”

Draco reacts before he knows what he’s doing, only staying away because Harry still has a tight grip on his hand. “No! He didn’t, sir! He doesn’t even have his wand!”

Mr. Crouch turns a cool gaze on him and Draco doesn’t back down a single centimeter. “Doesn't have his wand? You expect me to believe Lucius Malfoy went somewhere without his wand? What type of fool do you take me for?”

Harry steps closer to him, “He doesn’t, sir. If he had his wand, he would’ve taken Draco away the second those masked men started doing...whatever the hell they were doing.”

“Harry! Language!”

“Sorry, Mr. Wealsey.”

Mr. Crouch seems a little less than convinced, “This is Lucius Malfoy we’re talking about, and you expect me to believe his son?! Someone cast that Dark Mark and if it wasn’t him than it was one of you!”

“No it wasn’t!” Hermione cries, Ron’s arms around her so she can’t come forward, or perhaps just to keep her from sobbing on the spot. “Mr. Malfoy and Draco saved our lives today! They helped us escaped those masked men and took us somewhere safe! We were in the forest and Mr. Malfoy told us to get behind him and then the spell was cast! Check his pockets if you must, he is innocent!”

Draco has no damned clue why she’s on his father’s side. He knows all four of them, himself included, would be perfectly fine with his father going to jail...except he fucking isn’t. Not for this. Not for something he didn’t do while he was trying to help. And why was he trying to help? What was there for him to gain by helping Draco rescue the Boy Who Lived? What was there-

“Draco,” Harry whispers in his ear, “Mr. Crouch asked why your father didn’t have his wand.”

Sure enough, the others are looking at him but Crouch is still in the middle of a rant, claiming he doesn't believe them for one second and before he can think better he’s opening his stupid mouth.

“He left it at the manor.” Draco calls out, “He wanted me to get better at magic I’ve been struggling with in school so he left me pitch the tent and shrink it, said I needed the practice.”

Crouch gives him an outraged look and turns to start accusing another person, but he can’t pay attention with Harry’s breath on his neck again.

“What’s the real reason?”

Draco almost doesn’t reply, having someone this near is grounding. Plus it’s Harry Potter, the idiot who managed to live year after year so if something fucked up was about to happen to them, having Harry here just meant he would make it out alive. Harry would protect him, keep him safe. He’d fight for Draco just like Draco fights for him because that’s just how it works with heroes. 

“Mother doesn’t trust him to have it.” Draco whispers back right as some old man steps forward and Mr. Weasley tears into him. He suddenly has a whole new respect for the redhead clan.

“You can’t be suggesting that children and a wandless man cast it! This is Harry Potter and my children! Surely you know our backstories?!”

“Yes…” the other man looks ashamed, “Yes I’m aware but the Malfoy boy-”

“Is also a child! Who apparently saved my kids tonight! I should be thanking him- and his father- instead of defending them!”

“Well if they didn’t conjure the Mark then who did?!” Crouch asks in a shrill voice that kinda makes Draco want to rip out his vocal cords. The only reason he doesn’t is because Harry has started rubbing his thumb across the back of Draco’s hand and it’s caused him to finally stop shaking.

“There was someone in the woods!” George calls from where he’s wrapped around Fred, Ginny in the middle of them.

“Mr. Malfoy sensed them, that’s why he told us to get behind him.” Ginny pleads.

“Where?”

Merlin, he hates this man. Talking down to his friends, accusing his father, blaming it on Harry fucking Potter. Draco’s seething so much he can barely focus on the conversation until one of the men, thank fuck someone has sense, goes looking where Hermione points and brings back the elf from earlier.

Crouch has suddenly remembered the value of silence as his elf is carried out and laid at his feet, but something about it doesn’t sit right with him. Winky had been terrified of the fighting, she had been trying to get away.

She can’t move, even so Mr. Bagman appears in the clearing looking like a lion caught in a snake’s den. His eyes land on Lucius, then on Draco, and then Winky on the floor as well. 

A lot of arguing went on from there, an elf having a wand? Isn’t that silly? Once an elf was in service to someone they simply said ‘no wands’ and the elf could not pick up a wand. They would burn their hands immediately, before the wand was fully in their grasp. Every pureblood wizard knew that, and someone like Crouch should too…

They all watched her come back to herself once the spell was broken, they all saw the horror on her face when she saw the Dark Mark in the sky, they all heard her panicked cries. And yet no one treated her with an ounce of kindness and for some reason that pissed him the fuck off.

The Old Man yelled at her, accused her of something Draco personally knew couldn’t be true. No one listened to her when she said she didn’t even know how to do it. 

To make matters worse, when the wand in question is held up Harry calls out ‘hey that’s mine! I dropped it…’ because he must have dropped his brain too.

That starts a whole new round of arguments and Draco's so pent up he can feel his magic starting to get testy around him, he’s shocked Harry hasn’t dropped his hand, and when Harry’s accused again Draco nearly lashes out. Really! How the hell do you forget about the Boy Who Lived?

“I is not doing magic with it sir!” Winky cries, “I just be picking it up….but I do not be knowing how to conjure the Dark Mark, sir! Winky wouldn’t dare!”

A couple of red flags stand out against that. Draco locks eyes with his father who’s finally starting to sit up. The man taught Draco almost all he knows that books couldn’t. For starters, when elves picked up wands after their master forbade it, their hands would burn instantly. Instant punishment, because it was such a Big Deal in the wizarding world. He pays close attention to her face and can’t help but notice how similar she looks to his Torture Pixie after the Imperio curse wore off. Both very big red flags, each with the same meaning and Draco can’t help but wonder where Crouch had been when the first Dark Mark was cast. 

Hermione and the others come to her defense, but Draco watches her. He knows, with no doubt in his mind that she’s innocent. Even with Mr. Diggory, Prick In Charge of Something Important, reveals the last spell on Harry’s wand, that was very clearly in her hand. He knows. She didn’t do it.

So when Crouch, officially deemed Big Asshole in Draco’s mind, turns to his elf he can feel himself gearing up to do something stupid. 

Big Asshole throws a glove at Winky’s feet and Draco lets go of Harry’s hand despite the panicked look in his father’s eyes.

“You have something to say, Draco Malfoy?” The man sneers, and because he’s at a breaking point and really fucking fed up with everything, Draco sneers back with ten times the intimidation factor.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Mr. Weasley shakes his head, trying very desperately to tell him to let it lie, but he can’t. Draco steps behind Winky who freezes with his next words.

“Mr. Crouch, you’re a pureblood wizard, coming from the sacred 28. Are you not?”

Not the question he was expecting but that’s fine by Draco. He can almost feel his father cluing in behind him.

“Why yes I am.”

“Then surely you know that once a house elf has been contracted, when the wizard they’re bound to says ‘no wands’ they can’t even pick one up without burning their hands?”

Mr. Crouch’s face pales, the other’s eyes widen.

“I understand if you’re confused, after all there’s physical proof if you can call it that, but the matter of fact is that Winky clearly did no wrong, as you obviously did not tell her ‘no wands’ for her hands are still here.”

Winky looks up at him and he can’t stop himself from smiling kindly at her. 

“For that matter, since you’ve already dismissed her in a ruthless and very distasteful way, I’d merely like to extend my hand to the elf in question.” He completely ignores the outraged look on Crouch’s face, at least that one looks a little more natural.

“Winky, dry your eyes, you’ll not be going home without a family tonight.”

“Draco-’ his father warns but Draco ignores him too.

“Would you like to come serve me?”

He can practically feel the adults gaping at him, but Harry and Hermione are beaming at him like he personally put the sun in the sky. The hope clouding Winky’s heartbroken eyes is just the cherry on top.