Chapter Text
Have you made a social error that you wish to correct? If so, depending on the level of severity there is a set way of going about things. First, you must identify the error that you have made. It can be anything, perhaps you wore the incorrect color to an event or perhaps you have managed to make an enemy of someone. Second, you must be willing to put in the effort of creating a new relationship. Third, you must identify what you want. Why are you apologizing?
Sometimes you just know what you want, and Harry knew what he wanted. What he wanted though was going to be an uphill battle as Heiress Dracona Malfoy only looked his way to sneer after he refused her hand in friendship during their first year. But he was Harry Potter Lord to the Honorable and Ancient house of Potter and Heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He would win her heart if it was the last thing he did.
Having been raised outside of the wizarding world he knew nothing about pureblood customs. It wasn’t until he relayed the entire event to Sirius, after the man finally got custody of him before third year, he even understood how badly he stepped in it. Sirius had howled with laughter while Remus shook his head in fond exasperation.
First, it was uncommon if not slightly frowned upon for pureblood witches to approach wizards to create a connection of any kind. It was almost unheard of for a woman of Malfoy’s standing to do so. Second, you don’t reject someone the way Harry did unless you wanted to make a lifelong enemy. Third and finally, the Weasleys and the Malfoys blood feud was unknown to Harry until Sirius had filled him in on the issue, it was a nasty feud, so for Malfoy to say such a thing to Ron wasn’t that wild of a concept. He would have to make amends and from all of the research he had done it was going to be a tedious process.
Watching out the open compartment door he waited. The voices of his friends washed over him as he kept his eye out for Malfoy. Smiling to himself he watched as she made her way down the hall of the train. Having yet to change out of her traveling clothes Malfoy was in a long pale blue dress that hugged her curves from chest to waist her pale blonde hair was done up in an intricate pattern like it was at the beginning of every year as it was no doubt done by Lady Malfoy’s own skilled hand. Walking past him she frowned at him before continuing her way. The back of her dress was cut out exposing the pale skin of her back and the sharp cut of her shoulder blades.
When he first met Malfoy, he thought she was pretty, well as one eleven-year-old can find another, but now at seventeen Malfoy was gorgeous. She was taller than most girls in their year, her hair was so pale it was almost white and then there were her eyes.
He never thought of himself as someone who could wax poetically about someone’s eyes until he saw her eyes bathed in golden sunlight. They were neither the clear light blue of Lady Malfoy nor were they the storm gray for Lord Malfoy no, they were a color all their own, they were silver. She was gorgeous, enchanting, ethereal, like a muggle angel but one that would sooner cut his throat then bless him.
“Still stuck on Heiress Malfoy?” Neville's question silenced everyone in their compartment. Pursing his lips in annoyance Harry faced his friends. Neville didn’t look surprised no he just looked pleased to have gotten one over Harry. The rest of his friends supported a range of emotions. Ginny’s annoyed pink face made him grit his teeth. Somehow the girl had gotten it into her head that they were made for one another which he found a load of bull, if he was made of anyone it was for Malfoy.
“So, what if I am?” He had little fear that anyone in his friend group would pursue the blonde just to spit him. Putting his hands up in a defensive manner Neville merely smiled at him. The kind of smile that spelled trouble.
“Nothing’s wrong with it.” Leaning in closer so the others couldn’t hear he whispered, “Just a word of advice if you’re planning on courting her then you are going to have to work your ass off. A lot of purebloods eased up on their courting traditions, but the Malfoys seemed to have done the opposite.”
The war, which claimed the lives of Harry’s parents and the minds of Neville’s, had come close to destroying many pureblood families. Most that had joined the dark were just holding on post-war save for the Malfoys. They had managed to, somehow, make lemonade out of lemons.
Most pureblood witches married quickly, eager to get out from under their family’s rocky reputation. He knew Heiresses Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode had gotten engaged to the first wizards who offered them slightly greener pastures. But the Malfoys seemed to have no worries about their daughter finding someone.
“I don’t really understand why she’s waiting, surely someone has offered to marry her by now.” Ginny sneered as she picked at her fingers.
“Oh! I know why! So, Pansy told me that Heiress Malfoy is waiting on a love match. Can you believe it.” Lavender chimed in looking eager to share her gossip. “Apparently her parents are a love match, so she wants the same.” Ron laughed like the idea was out of this world.
“I don’t know how someone could love an unlovable spoiled bitch like her.” Clenching his fists Harry took a deep breath. His instinct was to jump in and protect Malfoy but one she would hate that and two the only one who knew about his feelings was Neville and there was no need to start the year off with an argument.
Hogwarts was Harry’s first home; it was the first place he was not afraid. With a happy sigh he dropped into his bed while his roommates buzzed around the room. Ron had gone down to the common room to chat with Hermione while Neville, Seamus and Dean unpacked the rest of their stuff. Around him the room grew quiet as he felt eyes upon him.
“Can I help you?” He asked not bothering to move or open his eyes.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Heiress Malfoy?” Harry shot up to stare at Seamus, mouth hanging open like a fool.
“Nothing! Why, what have you heard?” Laughing Seamus leaned against one of the bed posts as though a well-placed rumor wouldn’t destroy her prospects.
“Absolutely nothing, just found it—Dean, how did you put it?” The pair exchanged looks while Neville hovered in the background looking like he had something to say but really didn’t want to say it.
“I said I found it curious how Harry, who from my point of view has always hated Heiress Malfoy, looked about ready to rip Ron’s head off when he called her an ‘unlovable spoilt bitch’.” Tensing Harry knew he had been caught and if Dean and Seamus were able to figure it out then it wouldn’t take long before everyone else caught on.
“Okay look I…my dream would be to court her but seeing how there is so much animosity between us I would settle on just being friends with her. Okay, happy?” Seamus beamed at him.
“So how are you going to win her over?” Sighing he dropped back on to his bed.
“You think I can?” His voice sounded weary to his own ears.
“Of course, you can! You are a Potter, they've been known to go after more difficult witches.” Neville was right, of course.
While he had no memory of his parents, one of the things he had always been told about them is that James chased Lily even when she wanted nothing to do with him. Sirius was able to fill in gaps about his grandparents and the sentiment about his parents rang true Potters like difficult partners. Marrying women, often more powerful or intelligent, required them to show that they were worthy of their time.
“All I can hope is that she accepts my apology and allows me to keep all of my bits.” Neville rolled his eyes at the statement. They all knew Heiress Dracona Malfoy was a lady to the letter save for when it came to Harry. “Come one she would revel in hexing me and you know it.”
“So how do you plan on apologizing while keeping yourself in one piece?” Pushing himself up onto his elbows Harry smiled at his friends.
“There’s a pureblood custom for everything.” Groaning Seamus fell back onto Dean’s bed.
“Bloody purebloods.” Neville threw his head back in laughter at Seamus’s mutterings.
“Have you gotten any contracts or courting offers?” Pansy asked as she sent her clothes flying into her closet. Dracona frowned at her friend as she organized her hair combs and pins.
“No, I’m following my parent’s example. I will either marry someone who loves me or no one.” Several of Pansy dresses fell to the floor as she stared at Dracona who was ignoring her.
“Would you truly not get married if your only option did not love you?” Stiffening Dracona fiddled with her favorite comb, a silver comb with a mother of pearl dragon with emerald eyes.
“Why should I be forced to live my life beside someone who doesn't love me?” Pansy settled heavily on her bed. “I will not marry or have children with a man who thinks of me as some pretty doll who can be locked away.”
“Do you think that Adrian Pucey could ever love me?” Dracona turned quickly in her chair to stare at her friend. She and Pansy had not seen each other for the entirety of summer break as the Parkinson’s had taken their daughter on a whirlwind tour to meet the young single men across Europe.
“Do you like him?” Pansy shrugged. “I—Maybe if you get to know him better you two could come to love one another.” The sheer sadness that hung around her friend softened Dracona’s usual edges.
“I want to hate you.” Rearing back as though she had been slapped, Pansy looked surprised by what she said. “You have a choice in who you marry. My parents have already signed a binding contract.”
“Did you two not court!” She yelled, ignoring pureblood propriety, as her anger got the best of her.
“No, they did not see a need. He was the only one who was going to become a Lord who came to meet me. The rest were all second or third sons. They said it would be foolish to let a future Lord slip through my fingers.” Gaping like a fish, Dracona sat there in shock. She had always known her parents treated her differently from how other pureblood families treated their daughters, but she never understood how huge the difference was.
“So, what! You met him he told your parents he was going to be come Lord Pucey and your parents just signed the fucking papers!” Pansy shrugged. The girl that sat before Dracona was so different from the girl who left Hogwarts for the summer. The fire that had lived in her eyes had dimmed, she was slouched, and her hair was messy. “Do not marry him.” Snorting Pansy threw herself down onto her bed.
“Easy for you to say. Your parents would do anything to make you happy whereas I’m the fifth child and the only daughter. My only purpose is to marry well like my mother before me and her mother before her.”