Chapter Text
Narcissa Malfoy was about to step on the boat that would take her to Azkaban when she felt her pocket heating up. Immediately, the runes on the boat emitted a yellow light, mild warning, and Auror John Dawlish turned to face her.
“I must apologize,” Narcissa said, “I forgot I had this on me. My son is calling me”.
She took an enchanted mirror from her pocket and handed it to Dawlish. He casted five different detection spells on it before giving it back to her, still frowning.
“Answer quickly. I have to make sure it is a minor and not an accomplice”.
Narcissa raised an eyebrow.
“If you may, Lady Malfoy,” he added.
She took out the mirror and, once her face was in front of it, she heard clearly the voice of Draco calling her name.
“Draco,” she said once. In the mirror appeared the face of her son.
“Mummy, when are you coming home?”
He used his most childish voice, which meant he wanted something.
Narcissa put on her best exasperated face and glanced at Dawlish. The auror didn’t relax.
“Darling, I told you I’ll be back late. I’m busy right now”.
“Are you in the Ministry? Could you ask someone from the Department of Magical Transportation to connect the Floo in our house to Harry’s?”
Narcissa sighed, this time with real exasperation. “Not this again, Draco”.
“But Mummy, Iris came back today with no answer and I told her to stay with Harry until he wrote back, but she’s already back with no letters and it’s been a month without hearing back from him!”
“Draco, I told you I can’t do anything about this. I’m busy right now, we’ll talk once I’m back”.
“But!-”
Narcissa put the mirror away and Draco’s face disappeared. She handed it to Auror Dawlish, who still wore a serious facade but he didn’t look on edge anymore.
“Was that about Harry Potter?,” he asked while putting the mirror in his own pocket.
Narcissa glanced at him. The auror’s blank face slipped and showed a bit of curiosity.
“I heard Arthur Weasley’s been asking around the possibility of something interfering with Harry Potter’s mail,” he added.
Narcissa sighed and decided it was good for her to indulge in the small talk and to be on the auror’s good side. “Yes. My son is Harry Potter’s friend and he’s worried too. Apparently, his letters don’t reach him”.
“I see. If you wish, you could file a formal report”.
“That won’t be necessary”.
She climbed on the boat and the auror got in too. He pointed his wand and it started moving fast through the murky seawater.
A Portkey would’ve been easier, but it would imply opening the wards in Azkaban to allow certain apparitions and the Minister considered it a risk. So, Narcissa had to endure a long trip to get to the supposed most secure magical prison. Dawlish seemed to remember his job and stayed silent and observant. Bored, she let her mind wander back to her conversation with Draco.
Narcissa didn’t have the time to worry about Harry Potter not receiving his mail. Draco could wail all he wanted about it, she wouldn’t interfere. She didn’t remember that particular incident from the other past, so it wasn’t important. And she wouldn’t change something unless it was necessary.
Her attention was dedicated to one of her long term plans. Sirius Black was the person she had to keep alive in exchange for the lives and fates she wanted to change. He had been the most important person for the owner of the three Deathly Hallows in the other future, and Sirius was the life she promised for her ritual of time travel to work.
After a year of hard work, all her social maneuvering had come to fruit. Amelia Bones had granted her one visit to her closest blood family: her sister Bellatrix and her first cousin Sirius. If everything went smoothly, she could get more visits.
The only drawback was speaking with Bellatrix. It wouldn’t make sense for her to ask to see Sirius without asking to see her sister, so she had included her when she asked for the permit. Narcissa couldn’t get on Bella’s bad side, because she was one of the most important Death Eaters and the one who killed Sirius. Narcissa had to be close enough to monitor her sister and the Death Eaters, but she had to help Sirius too. It was a contradiction and she had to thread carefully. She would adapt to the circumstances of her talk with Sirius, because most of her plans to keep him safe relied on his reaction and possible collaboration. Knowing her cousin, it could be difficult.
Lucius was another complication. He was informed of her visit, and he wasn’t pleased.
“For a decade you didn't care about them,” he had complained, “and now, after I finally get some say in the Ministry and in Hogwarts, you threaten my reputation with something that could ruin us”.
“I always cared about my blood. The Blacks always look out for each other. I took in consideration our precarious position in society and waited until you were well established to try to reach them”.
Lucius had scoffed. “Both of them? You know Sirius wasn’t one of us”.
“For appearances”.
“I don’t understand. You know how this works. You used to respect this. You’ve changed”.
Narcissa immediately tried to smooth things down. Lucius was getting slightly suspicious of her and that wasn’t good. She needed him, his social network, he was her closest link to the Death Eaters. Plus, he wasn’t mad like Bella. He was easier to control. However, he seemed to reach a point where his anger was barely restrained. Sometimes, they got into fights.
She had been forced to take action, to up her game.
It was the year the Ministry started inspecting old families’ properties, looking for dark magical objects. In the other past, they had searched the manor a couple of times and Lucius had been pushed to sell some of his darker artifacts.
This time, Arthur Weasley and his blood traitor friends pushed the law to look for dark objects exactly like in the other past. However, this time Narcissa was allied with the Macmillans, the McLaggens and the Bones, and she was able to convince the Ministry to not send a whole patrol of aurors to search their house. They were quite lenient with a dark family like them, only sending a couple of new aurors. They came, drank tea, glanced at Lucius’ studio, and then she gently redirected them to admire the gardens. They left shortly afterwards without taking anything. She had been unable to extend the favour towards their oldest allies, but Lucius had been appeased.
It had also helped Narcissa to present to him her new alliances as useful tools instead of a betrayal to their beliefs. He had agreed with her vision, and he had told her it was fine to use any means to get them more power.
To give a little more push, Narcissa spoke with her new allies and got them to consider one law Lucius was trying to pass. It was still up to discussion, but it was enough for her to be back on the good side of her husband. He had let her do as she pleased with her new allies and her visit to her family.
Therefore, there she was, in the undetectable boat that would take her to the magical prison.
John Dawlish cleared his throat, cutting her thoughts.
“I’m sorry, lady Malfoy. It’s time to apply the safety measures”.
“Of course,” she agreed.
He extended his hand and she gave him her wand. He casted diagnostic spells on her again, to check for any hidden magical objects or spells. Once satisfied, he offered her a small vial. He took one for himself and showed her the content. It seemed to be the same potion.
They clancked their vials and drank. Softly and without pain, Narcissa fell into a deep sleep.
She woke up once they arrived in front of the prison. The boat ran aground on a small stone dock. It led to the heavily guarded Azkaban. Magical chains tied the boat to the dock. As soon as it was tied, the Dementors floated towards them. Dawlish got up fast and presented the magical stone with the rune signaling their permit. The Dementors gave them space to get out of the boat, but floated close to them.
They walked in silence towards the enormous stone building. Before getting inside, Dawlish casted a corporeal patronus. It was an amazing feat, only diminished by the fact it was a donkey.
Once inside, she went to see Bellatrix first, to keep the appearance of a sensible woman who wanted to visit her family.
Her sister inside Azkaban was a sad sight she would’ve rather never seen. She hadn’t put a foot on Azkaban in the other past.
This Bella was skin and bones, her beautiful hair turned into a brittle straw bush. Her eyes were dark and almost dead, sunken into her face. Her nails were bitten and her teeth were a horrible yellow.
“Bella,” Narcissa called her softly.
Auror Dawlish stepped back and looked at the ceiling. Narcissa took notice of the distance. It was far enough to give the appearance of privacy, but he could still listen to her. She had to be careful when speaking with Sirius.
“Bella,” she called again.
Her sister didn’t seem to recognize her at first. Narcissa started talking, trying to get her attention. It wasn’t until she mentioned Lucius that Bellatrix focused her eyes on her.
“Cissy. Have you finally decided to visit your scary older sister?”
“Yes,” she answered softly, “I came to see you”.
Bellatrix got close to the bars of her cell and looked her up and down.
“You look good. At least Lucius is doing something well”.
“He takes good care of his family”.
Bellatrix laughed, loud and angry. “Perhaps too much. Was it worth it, betraying our Lord to keep himself free?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Narcissa answered without losing a beat. Of course, for Bellatrix denying to serve the Dark Lord was treason. The only valid path for her was to fall fighting, like she did without hesitation.
Only then, Bellatrix seemed to notice Dawlish and she laughed again. “Of course, of course. He was under Imperius, wasn’t he? So, why are you here, Cissy?”
“I missed you,” Narcissa said.
Bellatrix hummed, looking at some point over Narcissa’s shoulder, her eyes unfocused. She kept humming until she blinked and finally looked at her. “Well, here I am. Why don’t you tell me about the magnificent outside world?”
“Of course”.
Narcissa told her useless things. She wasn’t allowed to speak about political information to the prisoners, so she told her about Lucius' good health and the beautiful manor and how lovely Draco was.
Bella hummed in understanding, but she didn’t catch all the information. She broke into loud and unprompted laughs twice and she kept asking if Draco had been raised well. Narcissa told her yes, her son was a respectable heir and he was sorted into Slytherin. That seemed to calm Bellatrix. After half an hour of minimal talk and varied lies, Narcissa knew it was time to move to Sirius.
“Goodbye, Bella. I’ll try to visit you again”.
“Say hello to your Lucius and Draco for me, Cissy. Do remind them of their duties”.
Narcissa nodded and turned her back to her oldest sister.
Dawlish guided her to Sirius' cell. When she got there, she realized it would be harder than speaking with Bella.
Sirius looked very conscious and he was glaring at her with obvious hatred.
She had two options. To pursue a trial for him, if he was willing to cooperate, and free him earlier than the other past. The trial would take time and it would hurt her social standing with the Death Eater families, but it will give Sirius time and a little more health. The other option was to let him break free on his own and help behind the scenes to keep him alive, with or without trial. It all depended if she could trust him to follow her lead.
“Cissy,” he greeted her through gritted teeth.
“Sirius. I came to visit you”.
“You shouldn’t have bothered,” he said. “There’s enough Death Eater scum as it is. No need to add more to the stink”.
Narcissa kept her face blank. She had expected the insults. She showed him her unmarked arms. Both, to make a point.
“I’m no Death Eater,” she glanced at Dawlish and continued, “I thought that was you, cousin”.
He showed his teeth and snarled like a rabid dog. “How dare you! You know I would never!”
The words flew by her head, because in that moment, he looked so much like a dog that something clicked in her mind. She pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on him.
“Don’t you want to prove it, cousin?”, she asked. “You never got a trial, after all. I’m sure nothing worse than your actual punishment would happen if you get one”.
Sirius looked surprised for a second, and then he laughed, deranged and bitter.
“I’ll be dead before I accept something from your pretty hand, cousin”.
Narcissa blinked, unaffected. “I won’t expect anything in return from you. I’m not an idiot. I only want to help our family”.
“I’m no idiot either,” he said. “I know who you are and what you did. Playing the housewife and the innocent hostess doesn’t clean your hands of all the blood your fucking husband and his friends spilled. Even if you didn’t throw a hex, you are as dirty as them, you fucking coward”.
“I’m not a Death Eater. I do not support violence,” she told him. “I’m giving you a chance. As a gift, from the girl you used to play with”.
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh, Cissy, so fucking generous. It’s a pity I’m no fool”.
Narcissa inhaled deeply and offered one last time. “Sirius, I can help to get you a fair trial”.
“I’d rather die than accept Death Eater’s pity”. He spat on the ground between them.
Narcisa sighed and left without saying goodbye, Dawlish guiding her in silence. If nothing else, at least the auror had heard Sirius deny being a Death Eater.
She climbed on the boat, thinking about her meeting. Sirius wouldn’t accept her help. She expected it. He was wild and it was too risky to push him. He’d have to escape on his own.
But her visit had made her remember something important. Sirius was an unregistered animagus. Peter Pettigrew had told the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters in the other past. Even she had been informed. She hadn’t forgotten. But she hadn’t made the connection… Sirius had gotten out of Azkaban and inside of Hogwarts as an unregistered animagus, hadn’t he?
Hadn’t that ugly journalist gotten into the school too? Draco had spoken with her animagi form.
Hogwarts wards didn’t work against animagus.
She couldn’t help how a smile crept in her face.
………
Draco paced in the hallway close to the main entrance. It was almost dinner and he was alone with the house elves and the peacocks again. He had adopted Mother’s words from two years ago and he was nicer to them, so the elves were really accommodating and offered him everything he asked, but he was still troubled.
His summer wasn’t like he imagined it to be.
The first week of July, he had traveled with Mother and Father to Italy, and it had been wonderful. They spent time together and they focused only on spoiling him. Father hadn’t mentioned Draco’s second place in school, even if he had dutifully informed him as soon as he got back. He had been showered in praises and love from Mother, and warm glances and occasional smiles and pats in the head from Father.
When the week was over, they got back to Wiltshire. The official reports from Hogwarts came and then Father had been mad. Not yelling-mad, but side-eyeing-and-making-dry-remarks-mad.
“I gave you the best education in the world and yet you can’t be the best in your year. I expected better from someone I call my own son”.
Draco had felt humiliated. He tried to defend himself, but Father had said nothing excused losing to a mudblood. He had told Draco to stop slacking off and to study more.
Draco did. He spent hours in the Malfoy library, reading for the next year and even more. He researched way ahead of the curriculum, so he would not only beat Granger, but also be more useful if the Gryffindors decided to do something foolish again.
He would be better.
Then, Father realized the mudblood who got the first place was the one in speaking terms with Draco, and he got mad again. Apparently, some pure-blood families had heard about him earning last minute points for consorting with the wrong sort. And they told Father.
Mother had supported Draco, and reminded Father of him agreeing to it, but Father was mad because of the rumours. Appearances were important for him. He fought with Mother (again, Draco thought bitterly) and he told Draco if he was so busy networking with Gryffindors below his level, he needed to improve his upstanding with the Slytherins too.
“Get a position in the Quidditch team and leave the Malfoy name in a good place. Befriend the team Captain and the Prefects, as well as older students with important families. And do it on your own, since you’re so skilled in making friends. I want results this year”.
So, Draco’s days were reduced to studying and flying on his very-good, but not-the-best Comet 300 broomstick.
Sometimes, Father allowed him to visit his Slytherin friends or them to visit him, usually because he had to speak with their families. Draco felt a bit uncomfortable, looking at his father mumbling things to his friends’ parents.
They all had something awful in common.
Something Draco had faced two months ago.
Whenever those thoughts appeared, Draco pushed them away. Father didn’t know the thing was alive. So what if he met his friends who had followed that? It hadn’t been a thing then, it had been something scarier. It had been about survival. Surely Father regretted it. Surely whatever he talked with his friends was about the present and not that past.
During those visits, Draco got to fly with Theo, Vince and Greg, but two-versus-two Quidditch wasn’t very fun, and Pansy was grounded because of her marks, so she couldn’t play with them. The thoughts appeared when he was flying, about Father and the thing and what would the families of his friends say… And suddenly the sky looked boringly grey and the air smelled weird and Draco didn’t feel like flying anymore.
Sometimes, Mother brought Draco with her when she visited her new friends, and he got to spend time with Daphne Greengrass and occasionally Macmillan, McLaggen and Bones. He didn’t like Cormac McLaggen, who was one year older than him and an arrogant prick, but he could tolerate the Hufflepuffs.
Daphne even orchestrated a small tea party for all of them, plus Blaise and the Patil twins. It was nice and he had fun, but it was a tiny rock of happiness in the ocean of his loneliness.
Going back home from those meetings meant going back to study or fly until it hurt and there was no fun involved in both things he enjoyed before. But anytime he stopped, Father sighed with disappointment or twisted his lips in a slight gesture of disapproval, so he kept doing it.
He missed his stupid Gryffindor friends too.
Fortunately, Granger answered every letter he sent her. She was smart and a very engaging partner to discuss their summer schoolwork. On the other hand, Ron wrote occasionally to discuss the Quidditch league. They were both nice to talk to.
Harry Potter was the problem. He missed him.
He hadn’t answered any of Draco’s multiple letters. With his silence, he had destroyed Draco’s plans to introduce the Gryffindors to his other friends. He knew Harry could face difficulties travelling because of his muggles, but he had an owl. He could write back.
Draco had been mad at him for a week.
Then, the worry won and he wrote to the other Gryffindors. Thankfully, both shared the same issue. Harry wasn’t answering them.
Ron even asked his father about it and he promised to ask around the Ministry. Draco tried to do the same with his father, but he only scoffed and told him to study. And Mother didn’t think it was a real problem.
Both of his parents didn’t seem to understand, even when Draco didn’t receive an answer from Harry for a month and he missed him. It was an issue he didn’t have his exact address. He had trusted the owls to find his friend, like they always did.
He even asked Blaise and Theo for help, since they had the brains and the resources and weren't grounded like Pansy. Both made a bet about who could contact Harry first. They not only sent owls, but also sent different trained eagles, crows, kneazles and crups. Blaise even paid a seer to try and pinpoint Harry’s location and Theo tried some weird ancient ritual with water to see Harry. Everything they tried failed.
He asked the Gryffindors for the address without hope. Obviously Ron didn’t remember. He trusted the owls too. But Granger did. She remembered and she told them Harry’s address. Not even muggle post reached him, though.
It was time for desperate measures.
When Mother got back from her mysterious business, Draco cornered her and, using the absence of Father, he whined as loudly as he could about being bored in the manor. He complained and kept whining until she looked exhausted and then he suggested an idea.
“Can you open the wards to floo-call my friends?”
She sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“Only floo-calls. If you want to visit, you have to ask your father to modify the wards”.
“I know,” he said quickly. “Can you do it?”
She sighed again and summoned her signet ring with a lazy movement of her wand.
“On my fireplace?”
She narrowed her eyes.
“The one in your room?”
“Yeah,” he put on his more innocent face and used his more childish voice, “please, mummy, I want to speak with my friends more, I barely see them once or twice a week. I miss intelligent talk with Theo and Pansy gets my humour and Vince and Greg are nice too, and Daphne has a lot of gossip to tell me and I want to speak with Blaise, oh, but I’d have to put at least three of his addresses, and also…”.
“Circe and Morgana! I understand, Draco,” she gave him her ring. The signet ring of Lord Malfoy’s spouse which had some power in the manor. “If it’s only floo-call you can do it yourself. You have to put my ring on the rune. You know which one, right? Then you have to give the family name and the exact address. Don’t forget to repeat the process for each one of your friends. And remember they have to do the same in their fireplaces for it to work”.
Draco beamed and hugged her.
Once in his room, he added all of his Slytherin friends to his fireceplace’s wards. He included Ron Weasley too.
………
Harry was too hungry to waste his energy being upset, but somehow his heart refused to get the memo.
It had been three days since he was locked in his room. The Dursleys let him out to go to the bathroom, but he couldn’t leave his room otherwise. He was only fed water and cold canned soup he had to share with Hedwig, his owl. He couldn’t get Hedwig out of her cage without magic. They were both trapped.
His hunger and loneliness only increased his resentment towards the house elf who ruined his summer.
Three days ago, the day of his twelfth birthday, the day his uncle was hosting a very special dinner for an important couple of clients for his company, one house elf had appeared in his room.
He was the weirdest being Harry had met. He seemed very pleased to meet Harry, but refused to give his name or clear information about himself or the family he worked for.
“Me is very sorry, sir,” he had apologized multiple times, “me can’t say it”.
He said a lot of other things, though. Harry was a bit curious, being distant from the magical world for a month. He asked about the house elf and he explained he worked for a family and he couldn’t leave them until he was set free. That they didn’t know he was there.
“Me will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. If the Master hears,” he shuddered. “Mistress and Little Master don’t like using corporal punishment, but Master still does”.
That was the most the elf revealed about them. He started banging his head in the walls or tables if Harry asked more. But, as limited as the elf’s communication was, he told Harry he had heard something about a dangerous plot to bring harm to Hogwarts.
“Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts,” he had repeated numerous times.
Harry had refused. He loved Hogwarts and he missed the magical world.
And he missed his friends, who had promised to write to him, but they hadn’t.
It was then when the elf confessed. To keep him away from school, he had taken Harry’s letters. Harry had been so angry and relieved at the same time. His friends hadn’t forgotten about him.
There had been lots of letters the elf showed him. He had seen Draco’s elegant cursive, Hermione’s neat writing, Ron’s untidy scrawl, and a scribble that looked like Hagrid’s writing. There had been more writings he didn’t recognize, some looked fancy like Draco’s, probably the invitations his friend had promised.
Harry had tried to get the letters, but the elf had refused until he promised to not go back to Hogwarts. Harry couldn’t do that.
Then, the elf had run down the stairs, faster than him. He had used a spell to make a pudding float and fall in the kitchen, and he disappeared taking the letters with him.
In consequence, the Ministry wrote to Harry an official warning for using magic out of school (even if it was the elf and not him), and the Dursleys learned he couldn’t use his magic or he would get expelled, and they locked him in his room. Uncle Vernon said he wouldn’t let Harry go back to Hogwarts.
Thinking about it only made Harry more upset. He tossed and turned in his bed. He felt like a prisoner, unable to break out. His own window made his room look like a jail with the bars uncle Vernon put there. The cat-flap on his door was small and even if he got food from it, he hated it. He felt like a caged beast nobody wanted.
He missed Hogwarts and his friends. They liked him.
He thought about the letters he would never see.
Draco may be the one who wrote the most, Harry thought with a sad smile. He liked to speak a lot and he would be the type to send thick letters to tell Harry a lot of stories about him meeting his multiple friends or traveling with his rich family. Even if he would’ve felt slightly jealous, Harry would’ve liked to read his letters.
Ron surely had written about his family, the varied things his brothers did, complaining about them but showing he cared. Maybe he wrote about Quidditch too.
And Hermione, she would write about schoolwork and nag at him to study. Maybe she would understand how much he missed the magical world.
Missing them so much his heart hurt more than his almost empty stomach, Harry fell asleep.
He woke up to a rattling sound. There was someone goggling through the bars at him.
Ron Weasley was outside his window, leaning out of a turquoise car parked in midair. Fred and George were grinning from the front seats.
………
Escaping the Dursleys, leaving Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley dumbstruck in his window felt deeply satisfying. Harry swore to ask the twins to teach him to pick locks with hairpins. That nice trick had let them get all his school things and now they were flying through the sky to Ron’s house, Hedwig finally flying free next to the car.
Ron and the twins were curious about the absence of letters, so Harry told them everything: the Drusleys prohibiting him to let Hedwig out of her cage, the house elf’s warning, the same being stealing letters and throwing the pudding, and the Dursleys locking him up.
“Very fishy,” Fred said.
George agreed. “He couldn’t even tell you his name or who’s supposed to be plotting all this stuff?”
Harry nodded. “He told me he couldn’t say his name, and when I asked for more information he started banging his head against the wall”.
The twins exchanged a look.
“Do you think he was lying?”, Harry asked.
“House-elves have got powerful magic but they usually need their master’s permission to use it,” Fred said. “Maybe someone sent his elf like a prank. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?”
“No,” Harry shrugged.
“Wait,” Ron said. “Didn’t Draco say some older Slytherins were mad because of the points in the Feast? Maybe it is one of them”.
Harry looked at Ron, surprised. “Draco?”, he asked at the same time the twins laughed.
“Oooh, did Dray-Dray tell you that, Ronniekins?”
“Well, if Dray-Dray said so it must be true”.
Ron looked mildly annoyed. “Stop it”.
Harry didn’t understand what was happening.
“Since when do you call him Draco?”, he asked Ron.
The twins laughed again.
“Oh, it was two weeks ago I think”.
“Or all summer, really”.
“Dray-Dray said this”.
“Can I tell Dray-Dray this?”
“You can’t speak about Dray-Dray like that”.
“Only praises for Dray-Dray”.
“Shut up,” Ron groaned. “Don’t pay them any mind, Harry. We started talking more this summer and we’re mates now”.
Harry blinked. “Oh,” he said, conflicted. It was nice that his friends were getting along… but he felt slightly displaced. What if they didn’t want Harry around anymore?
Ron might’ve noticed his face, because he started speaking again. “We mostly talk about you, though. He was really insisting on some plan to get you out of here”.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you know how he is. He wouldn’t shut up about you not answering him. He wanted to pay us to go and get you, but of course we wouldn’t accept it. We wanted to help you too”.
“Money lost,” one of the twins lamented.
“Oh,” Harry said again, moved. Draco had been worried.
“I’m glad we came to get you anyway,” Ron smiled.
Harry relaxed in his seat and listened to Ron complaining about Errol, their family owl, and how they thought it was his fault because he was old. How Percy didn’t let them borrow Hermes, his owl, and he spent all time locked up in his room. Ron and the twins also explained the car had been enchanted by their father, even if it was kind of illegal, and they weren’t supposed to be caught using it. Harry didn’t have the strength to feel worried. He was safe and happy, flying to his friends’ house. He’d be able to send letters to Draco and Hermione later and everything would be okay.
They landed when dawn broke on the horizon.
“We’re a little way outside the village. Ottery St. Catchpole,” George said.
Harry looked for the first time at Ron’s house, amazed.
It looked nothing like the Dursleys' plain and boring house.
There was a wooden sign with its name, The Burrow. It looked like in the beginning it was an old stone building, with several stories added on. The construction looked a bit crooked, like it might fall any moment. It was probably held up by magic. There were fat chickens pecking the ground and there was a wild garden with lots of plants Harry had never seen before.
The Burrow, unlike the Dursleys’ suburban house, looked alive and magical.
“It’s not much,” Ron said.
“It’s great,” Harry answered, and he meant it.
His friend looked a bit sheepish, but happy.
Fred started explaining how Harry should go upstairs with Ron and then go down for breakfast, saying he arrived on his own, but he suddenly stopped talking. They all followed his horrified gaze and they noticed a short woman glaring at them menacingly.
Ron’s face turned green and even the twins looked scared.
“Oh no”.
“Oh dear”.
The woman walked to them fuming. Once she opened her mouth, Mrs. Weasley was a force to be reckoned with. She was very angry, she yelled at Ron and the twins, and then she turned to Harry.
He stepped back warily.
“I’m very pleased to see you, Harry, dear. Let’s go inside and have some breakfast”.
He looked at Ron for help. His friend gave him an encouraging thumbs up.
Inside The Burrow, everything was even more magical than outside. Mrs. Weasley cooked using her wand to command the knives to cut the ingredients and the dishes so they cleaned themselves in the sink. There was a magical clock which showed the location of every member of the Weasley family. There were books about magical plants and magical pests and there was a magical wireless that produced songs from witches and wizards.
Mrs. Weasley kept ranting angrily at her sons while she cooked and served breakfast, but care dripped from her words and it was obvious she loved them very much. She offered Harry a copious amount of food and she kept smiling at him. Even more magical than the home appliances was the fact that everyone there seemed to like Harry.
Harry didn’t get to see all the other members of the Weasley family so early. Ron said his father was still working at the Ministry and Percy was in his room. While they were eating, Ron’s little sister Ginny came running, squealed and went back upstairs really fast. The twins laughed about it and joked that she might want Harry’s autograph.
When they finished breakfast, Mrs. Weasley told her sons to de-gnome the garden. She told Harry to go and sleep, but he wanted to help.
They were about to go out when a voice Harry knew very well echoed from another room.
“Ron? Are you there?”
Ron jumped. “It’s Draco. I promised to tell him when we got you back. Let’s go tell him”.
“Is he here? Where?”, Harry asked, looking around. He couldn’t see Draco anywhere.
“Ron Weasley, are you there?”, his posh voice asked louder.
This time, everyone seemed to hear. Mrs. Weasley gave them a tiny smile and the twins cackled.
“Oooh, Dray-Dray is calling!” Fred yelled in a mocking voice.
“This will take a while then,” Mrs. Weasley said.
“What?”, Harry asked.
“He’s floo-calling”, Ron said. He started walking towards the fireplace and Harry followed, surprised.
“What’s floo-call?”
“It’s talking through a fireplace. Dray-Dray uses it to annoy our little Ronniekins,” said George.
“Stop it!”, Ron whispered.
“Since our dear Dray-Dray connected his floo, he’s been calling Ron everyday asking for you, if we received your letters or if you contacted us,” said Fred, walking with them to the fireplace.
“All of us have gotten used to seeing his face in the fire, even at midnight,” added George.
“The fire?”, asked Harry, half worried and half curious.
When he finally got a good look at the fireplace, he understood. There, flicking in the fire was Draco’s face.
He looked a bit impatient, but as elegant as always. Harry couldn’t help but beam at him.
“Hi, Draco”.
His friend’s eyes locked into his and his expression morphed into relief. “Harry, there you are. I’m glad you made it. How are you? Did they use the car? Are you okay? Nobody saw them, right?”
Harry blinked. “I’m fine. What?”
“Yes, yes and no, don’t worry,” Ron answered. “Everything went alright like I told you”.
Draco sighed. Then, he frowned and started ranting.
“No answer to the letters! What were you doing? Why didn’t you send Hedwig? Explain right now what happened. Did you know how worried we were…”
Harry listened calmly until his friend finished his angry speech and then he started explaining, slowly and smiling all the time. He didn’t know exactly how it worked, but he was glad he could speak with Draco through the fireplace. He wondered if they could speak all summer like this. It didn’t seem too difficult.
“A house elf?”, Draco asked, after Harry told him everything. “I know a few. We have ten here in the manor. Theo has a couple less than us, I think, Pansy has seven or eight, Blaise has like twenty but that’s because his mother…”
“So there’s a lot,” Harry summarized. “He could be from any family”.
“Without a name I can’t help much,” Draco said. “But at least I know none of my friends would send theirs as a joke. Well, Blaise was a bit upset for the House Cup, but he got over it quickly. And he is too classy to do something like that”.
“Are you sure?”, Ron asked.
“Yeah, taking someone’s letters is very frowned upon. It might be someone with a real grudge, though”.
Harry couldn’t think of any student who might hate him so much. He looked at Ron for ideas, but then they heard the twins.
“Hurry up! Mum is telling us to go and de-gnome right now!”
“Quiet!”, Mrs. Weasley hissed. Then, louder, she added “Hello, Draco, dear. Don’t worry, take your time to catch up with Harry. Ron, come here”.
“Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” Draco greeted louder.
“We’re not de-gnoming anything,” Ron said quickly. “Our garden is fine”. He looked a bit embarrassed.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “Okay… but there’s nothing wrong with de-gnoming. Vince and Greg used to do it for fun when we were little, the little pests invaded our garden no matter what charms we used”.
“Oh,” Ron seemed to relax. “Right. Yeah, we’re de-gnoming”.
“I mean, some people could say it’s cruel, I don’t know what Mother would say about it,” Draco mumbled almost to himself. “Anyway, Daphne’s having another casual meeting for a little group. Thank Morgana you got Harry, now you both can go. I’ll tell Granger too”.
“Do we have to?” Ron groaned.
Harry remembered Draco telling him something like that on the train. Even if he wasn’t close with Daphne Greengrass, he felt excited to see Draco and Hermione.
“Tell us when and we’ll go,” Harry said.
Draco nodded. “And we have to see how we can make it so I visit you. I can’t connect our floo to travel because Father…”, Draco coughed and then continued speaking. “Well, we can coordinate later. Go play with the gnomes”.
Harry said goodbye and he followed Ron outside. The twins taught him how to capture and throw the gnomes. Harry understood why Draco said it could be considered cruel, but the twins said it didn’t hurt the gnomes. They tried to surpass each other in throwing the gnomes far away and Harry joined their little competition.
The day passed without anger or isolation. Harry went to Ron’s room covered in orange posters. He talked with Ron’s father, who was interested in muggles appliances. Mrs. Weasley fed him and looked worried about him. Percy and Ron’s little sister Ginny greeted him at lunch with her face red like a tomato and everyone ate together in harmonious chaos.
He laughed and laughed until his stomach hurt.
Harry loved The Burrow. Ron was there and he could speak with Draco through the fireplace and he would write to Hermione later.
He was safe. Everything was okay.