The Meredith Series

Title: Introductions.
Author:sa_kun On LJ
Rating: PG-13
Prompt Set: 50.1
Prompt: 009, circle
Word Count: 405
Summary: Harry and Malfoy talk.
Warnings: Alcohol.
Notes:

Circle | 009

It was just a few days before Christmas. Harry was stretched out comfortably on his stomach, eyes closed and just being lazy. He felt he had a right to be lazy.

“Are you going to lie around all day?” Harry didn't deign Charlie with an answer, merely sniffed and scrunched his nose up. “Sometimes I wonder who the kid around here is...”

“It's Harry, isn't it?” Meredith chirped, grinning mischievously.

Nodding seriously, lips twitching and eyes sparkling, Charlie said, “I'm beginning to see that, yes.”

Meredith laughed, then he suddenly bit his lip. “Um,” he said and all at once, Harry was sitting up, eyebrow lifted and eyes curious and knowing at the same time.

“Yes?”

“I, I may have invited someone over.”

“I see.”

Meredith scowled. “Knock it off, Harry! If you know—”

“I want to hear it from you, not an irritated parent.” Silently, I'm giving you a chance.

“Professor Vector asked me to tutor a younger Slytherin – not because he was stupid, or anything, but because he's plenty of potential, and that he needed all the support he could get, you know?”

“You mean that talent needs to be flattered in order for it grow instead of wither because of boredom.”

Meredith nodded. “Yes.”

Harry arched his back before standing and rolling his shoulders. Lying prone on the couch was comfortable, yes, but not so much when he had to stand. “And how does this connect to Christmas?”

“He's brilliant, Dad. I sort of invited him over.”

Harry tensed, then relaxed. It was probably the 'Dad' that did it; Meredith used the word so rarely that both Harry and Charlie tended to find themselves doing things they had never even contemplated doing before.

Such as requesting an audience with Draco Malfoy.

-x-

“Potter.” Draco inclined his head.

“Malfoy. Been a while.”

“Yes,” Draco said dryly, “it has been such a pleasure.”

“I don't doubt it.”

Draco smiled thinly. “I suppose this is what I get for so studiously proclaiming that I am not my father.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed, sitting down in one of the armchairs facing Draco's desk, “I suppose it is.” Biting his lip, Harry took a moment to relax. “You should know that Meredith is adopted.” By the way Draco stilled and grew very tense, Harry knew that Draco hadn't, indeed, known that. “I don't know how much you heard about my relatives at school, but I gather it was just enough. My Aunt and Uncle had him and when he showed that he had magic, they left him with me.”

“That is unusual.”

“Muggleborns, so close together in the same family? Yeah.” Harry nodded. “I know. Severus has pointed it out a number of times. But then, squibs are rarely tracked.”

Sighing, Draco assented. “True. So. A Muggleborn.”

“Not quite,” Harry said enigmatically, his left eyebrow slightly elevated. “You forget who my...guardian is.”

Draco's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. “Oh,” he purred, “the precious Saviour dabbles in the Dark Arts. Most…intriguing.”

“Isn't it?” Harry smiled. “The boy has everything I am, and everything...I was given.”

Grey eyes widened subtly, before retaking their calculating gleam. “Everything, you say?”

“Everything. Oh, yes,” he murmured. “Why, he's quite the little...prince.”

“With a most pleasing disposal, I wager.” Draco raised an eyebrow. Harry merely shrugged, a secretive smile playing at his lips. Standing, Draco glanced at the ornate clock on the wall, then he waved his wand, and his cloak came flying. “Would you care to join me for supper?”

“Of course, Malfoy. Lead the way.” Harry held out his arm, and Draco took it and the world spun.

Looking rather pleased, Draco smirked. “Welcome to the home of my ancestors, Harry Potter.”

“Thank you for bestowing me the honour, Draco Malfoy.”

-x-

It was very late: almost early, when Harry finally made it home, smelling faintly of incense and the expensive alcoholic beverages that had tasted deliciously and warmed him immensely. Charlie was leaning against the mantelpiece, waiting for him, face strangely empty and void of emotions. “Cheating on me with a Malfoy, Harry?”

Harry turned slowly, carefully; his were ears buzzing. “But he doesn't have freckles,” Harry murmured quietly with the faintest hint of a pout in his voice. He took a wavering step forward, then another until his outstretched hands could touch Charlie, and he did so very carefully. “And he's awfully skinny,” he confided seriously. “Doesn't hold a candle to you.”

“Are you drunk?” Charlie asked incredulously.

“Tipsy,” Harry automatically corrected, shaking his head cautiously as if to clear it. “Never told you why I hate alcohol, did I?” Charlie shook his head. “Ah,” Harry moaned, “the way of the Slytherins. Everything is so ruddy sophisticated and calculated, and shame on you if you don't have impeccable manners and know the name of every dish or type of drink served. Every game, every scheme...every time...all the alcohol... I hate it.” Swaying slightly, Harry clenched his fingers tight in the loose material of Charlie's shirt. “Help me lay down, would you? I'll tell you all about Draco Malfoy when I can think straighter, I promise—oh, the window's spinning, Charlie!”

-x-

“Meredith!”

It took a few minutes, but eventually the boy peeked inside the kitchen. “Harry?” Harry made an impatient gesture with his head, snapping his fingers. Meredith hurriedly crossed the kitchen, coming to stand next to him “What's the matter?”

“Your friend will be joining us two days after Christmas, and will be staying for the remainder of the holiday.”

Meredith blinked slowly, leaning against the counter. “...what did you do, Harry? I mean, it's— you went to see Mr Malfoy?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. I was a Slytherin, too, remember. I know how to 'play the game', if I have to.”

“Harry...I'm a Muggleborn, he'd never—”

Harry grinned mischievously, nudging Meredith's shoulder with his own. “Maybe I'm just that good.”

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