Potter Luck

“Welcome to Grimmauld Place,” Sirius said, hands wide in an open gesture. Harry stepped from the floo, Draco close behind him. Sirius and Narcissa stood a few steps away having come through the floo first. “I’ve sent your belongings to your rooms. Follow me, we’ll do a tour and have some lunch.”

Sirius, ever the gracious host, led the two Malfoys and Harry (who hadn’t had a chance to get a full tour yet) through Grimmauld place. It really was an impressive structure. From the outside it looked like a normal London townhome, but the inside was expanded to the size of a large manor. There was even an impressive back garden that Sirius promised Harry he could fly in over Yule.

Sirius pointed out Narcissa and Draco’s rooms. They were on the floor just below Harry’s in what Sirius called the family wing. From what Harry could see, they were impressive rooms, not quite as lavish as his own, but more than suitable for the Lady and Heir Malfoy. Harry and Sirius left them to get acquainted with their rooms while they returned to the dining room.

It struck Harry how much had changed in the last forty-eight hours. He dropped the glamour on his rings and stared at his gleaming fingers. Slytherin’s– Harry’s– snake chased its tail once around his finger before stilling once more. The black Peverell stone seemed to absorb light when it reached its surface. Harry could feel ancient and powerful magic emitting from both rings. He let the glamour fall back in place.

Harry had gone from captive to Lord in forty-eight hours. From trapped to free. Powerless to powerful. The one thing that somehow remained was Draco and the safety Harry felt in his presence. He had come to mean so much more to Harry than he ever thought possible.

Harry’s eyes fell on Sirius as he thought. Sirius was another surprise upon his escape. Draco had kept Harry as up-to-date as possible, but he too was limited with exposure to life outside Malfoy Manor. A confused flip in his stomach had Harry looking away from his godfather before he was caught staring again. The stack of letters that Harry had abandoned earlier that morning drew his attention. He resolved himself to read through them after lunch.

Footsteps in the hall indicated Narcissa and Draco’s entry. Narcissa’s pale blue robes and Draco’s elegant silver ones seemed almost out of place among the dark tones of Grimmauld Place.

“Thank you, cousin. Our rooms are more than acceptable. I appreciate the redecorating you have done; you have been busy,” Narcissa smiled softly at Sirius, it was a genuine smile.

“I found myself looking for ways to keep my mind occupied while my heart was otherwise busy,” Sirius said, inclining his head to his cousin. “I’m glad you found it to your taste.”

“Yes, thank you Lord Black. My mother and I are grateful for your hospitality,” Draco’s usually aloof expression was gone, in its place was honest gratitude.

“Nonsense, Draco. You are family; my home is your home. Please, call me Sirius while we’re at home,” Sirius said firmly. “Let us eat, Pippy and Lolly have put together an excellent meal.”

The four sat to eat and Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the scene. Sirius looked at him questioningly.

“Two months ago in your time, you were an escaped convict, I was Lord Voldemort’s plaything, Lady Malfoy a Death Eater sympathizer, and Draco was a prat. Now we’re living together and everything’s changed. Mind you, the jury’s still out on whether Draco’s all that different, but my point still stands,” To Harry’s surprise it was Narcissa that laughed first. It was a musical laugh that was not unlike her son’s.

“Oi! I am not a prat,” Draco said outraged

“Draco, dear, you are a bit of one,” Narcissa amended. Sirius laughed harder, deep and hearty. Harry grinned across the table at the young Malfoy. Draco looked at his mother with eyes of betrayal before turning those eyes on Harry and aiming a kick under the table. Harry caught the foot between his own and gave it a yank. Harry laughed even harder at Draco’s surprised look. He released the foot and Draco righted himself, nose in the air and haughty mask firmly in place.

Everyone settled shortly after and began to eat with conversation flowing easily between the four. Narcissa and Sirius, though quite different, had the same sharp wit. Though Sirius tended to be bold and loud, he was just as capable at the sly wit that he was raised with. Harry found the company to be very enjoyable. He was almost sad at the thought of returning to Hogwarts the day after the next.

“I’ve got summer work to catch up on,” Harry said, pushing back from the table. “I’ll be in the library if you need me,” Harry told Sirius.

“Harry, your professors have excused you from your work. You don’t need to worry yourself with it,” Sirius said gently.

“You’re telling me Snape agreed to that?” Harry asked pointedly.

“Fair point,” Sirius muttered. “But the rest have,” Sirius assured him. Harry grinned and grabbed his stack of letters. “A few more were waiting for you when we got back. I added them to your pile,” Sirius whispered with a grimace. Harry could guess who they were from.

“Right,” Harry grimaced back. “Draco, you are more than welcome to join me in the library if your afternoon is otherwise unoccupied,” Harry said cordially. Draco raised an eyebrow at the formality.

“If you mean to get my help with your potions assignment, you’re out of luck. I haven’t done it yet either.” He stood and joined Harry in the wall after thanking Sirius for the meal. The pair headed to the library.

Harry had yet to actually enter the room, but when he did, he was almost brought to his knees, would have if Draco hadn’t grabbed his arm roughly. The room was rich with an overwhelming, heady, magic. It was palpable energy, moving between books and flowing like a current in the room. The sheer force of it was overwhelming and almost blinding.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked, an edge of concern in his voice.

“There’s just so much,” Harry’s voice was thick with the intoxicating feeling of the magic.

“I never knew you to be such a bibliophile,” Draco said dryly.

“Not books, you prat. It’s the magic. Can’t you feel it?” Harry asked, coming back to his senses. The magic was still there, putting every one of his senses on edge, but he was able to focus through it. Draco hummed and closed his eyes.

“I can. It’s old and dark. Very dark,” Draco frowned at Harry. “You’re much more sensitive to it than I am. I can feel it and identify it, but not so viscerally as you. An inheritance?” He guessed, letting go of Harry’s arm and smoothing the wrinkles where his hand had gripped. Harry nodded. “A Potter inheritance?” Harry shook his head and grinned.

“Evans,” he replied and continued at Draco’s confusion. “It’s from my mother. Magic sensing.” Draco’s eyes widened before settling into an impressed look.

“A muggleborn witch with a magical inheritance. She must have been a truly impressive witch,” Draco said. Harry smiled sadly, but made no reply. He liked to think she was, everyone said she was.

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry sighed, sinking into one of the old tables beneath a window. The library was the biggest room in the house. There were countless rows of bookshelves, each packed to the brim with books. Some looked older than written word, others bore more familiar titles, probably new twenty years ago. It was organized by subject matter. The darker the magic involved, the deeper you need to go to find it. Despite the size and prevailing scent of dark magic, or perhaps because of it, the library was cozy. Harry could easily imagine losing hours or days in here, reading to his heart’s content.

He and Draco summoned their potions textbooks and selected appropriate reference books from the library and set to work. They stopped every so often to discuss a particularly interesting theory, or to bounce ideas off the other. Harry was more than a little disturbed to admit that he enjoyed the work. He found that Draco was patient and passionate about potions. He was confident in his knowledge and excited to share it with Harry. Suddenly, he found himself devouring the knowledge that Draco gave him.

They made quick work of their essays and fell into easy companionship, absorbed in their own books. Harry was pleased to realize that he had somehow managed to learn more than he thought over the last four years of Snape breathing down his neck, but there was so much more available. At that moment, Harry promised himself that this year he would apply himself fully to his studies, no matter the subject.

“You’re mother was a talented potioneer, you know,” Draco said quietly. Harry’s head shot up to find Draco watching him with silver eyes, his book closed on the table.

“How do you know that?” It was hard for Harry to keep an edge out of his voice. Everyone always knew more about his parents than he did.

“Remember when we had to polish the trophies?” Draco asked, Harry laughed and nodded. “There was an award in there presented from the Practical Potioneer presented to Severus Snape and Lily Evans for an original potion development. It was awarded to them in their fourth year,” Draco let that sink in. “At the time I didn’t know who she was, and when I asked Severus he wouldn’t say. I’ve just now put it together,” He explained. Harry’s thoughts were whirling. His mother and Snape developed their own potion together? Were they friends?

“Thank you for telling me, Draco,” Harry said softly. Draco smiled but didn’t say anything else. They went back to their readings, Harry switching to a transfiguration text. McGonagall might have let him off easy with his summer homework, but it would not do to be behind in that class.

“Where are your rooms?” Draco asked, voice raspy having not used it in over an hour while the two worked. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Hoping to get an invitation to it?” Harry teased. “They’re on the top floor. Only Sirius and I have access to them,” Harry explained. “It’s warded against everyone else. I can invite you through the wards but that might be a little suspicious,”

“I was just curious, Merlin,” Draco was incredulous. “Besides, you’re not warded from my room,” he smirked invitingly.

“I’ll bear that in mind should my room become inhospitable,” Harry said vaguely, not looking up from his book.

“You insufferable twit,” Draco sniffed. That made Harry look up and grin.

“You know I’m just playing, Dray.” Harry reached a hand across to run his knuckles along Draco’s. “I’m pretty sure Sirius has the elves watching me though. He’s worried I'm not all there,” Harry pointed at his head and laughed.

“He’d be right to assume that,” Draco agreed gravely.

“Shut it, I’ve been good lately,” Harry chastised, Draco nodded in agreement, serious now. “I mentioned that there was a point in time where I wasn’t, so I think he’s just worried. I know if I asked he’d call them off, but I figured a few days of monitoring is fine if it gives him some peace of mind,” Harry explained. Something softened in Draco’s silver eyes.

“Your propensity to care for others never ceases to amaze me,” he said finally. Harry blushed but couldn’t think of anything to say. Several minutes later, Harry asked the question that had been on his mind since Flourish and Blotts:

“Dray, are you alright? What happened after I got out?” Draco smiled reassuringly at Harry.

“No one suspected me at all. There were at least ten Death Eaters accused of treason, but no one ever even suggested my name. It was utter chaos though. The Dark Lord was furious. No one had seen him lose control like that in a long time,” Draco’s eyes glazed over, deep in his thoughts.

“My dad got through the other end fine as well. His hatred of you is notorious, afterall,” Draco smiled humorlessly. “I’m neither sad nor sorry to have left the manor. It hasn’t been my home for a long time.” Draco concluded. Harry squeezed his hand, sending the warmth of his magic into it.

“Home will always be wherever you choose to be,” Harry murmured. Draco smiled gratefully.