FIC: Benevolence (Part One)
Sep. 25th, 2011 09:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesThis was written as a bribefic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ementior, who has NINE BILLION WIPS that she needs to finish. We've arranged an exchange system now. A chapter for a chapter. GOOD PLAN, Y/Y? :D
Anyway, this is a WIP, because it was supposed to be 2k and somehow grew to 20k and STILL IS NOT DONE. But I like it, so it will be.
HERE IS PART ONE.
*crosses fingers that lj cut works*
Harry stormed out of the house and started walking, trying to put as much distance between himself and Ginny Weasley as possible, even though she had already Flooed home after their argument. Harry had known it would not go well, given that he had finally broken the news to her that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wanted to date other people, that he did not want to settle down and get married and have babies like everyone—especially Ginny—had been pushing him to do for the past five years. What he hadn’t mentioned was that he had also finally admitted, to himself at least, that his habit of fantasizing about men was not a passing fancy. Ginny was upset enough; adding that titbit might have got him hexed for sure.
As it was, Harry fully expected a Howler or a visit from Molly Weasley, demanding to know what Harry had done to send Ginny home in tears. Harry sighed and pulled the hood of his jacket over his head; the rain was turning into a downpour.
The need for a cup of coffee, or something more bracing, sent Harry Apparating to a different part of London as soon as he rounded the corner and stopped near a concealing hedge. He appeared in a shadowed alcove of a deserted alley close to London Bridge. It was just as dark, but raining slightly less, coming down in large droplets instead of buckets. Harry knew there was a coffee shop with decadent pastries just around the corner and beyond the bridge.
He walked briskly, head down, only looking up once at the sound of footsteps. A man approached at a steady walk, and even in the dark Harry could appreciate the slender lines of his body, accented by the dark coat the man wore. The streetlight highlighted a flash of pale hair and Harry smiled appreciatively; he had discovered a recent inclination towards blonds.
The man glanced up as Harry drew nearer. Their eyes locked and Harry felt a jolt of recognition. He halted in his tracks and turned as the man passed by.
“Malfoy?” he asked in disbelief.
The man did not pause; in fact, his footfalls seemed to increase in speed as he quickened his pace. Harry took several jogging steps after him and his fingers touched the man’s arm, urging him to halt. “Draco, wait!”
The man stopped and looked Harry up and down. Harry held his breath. It had been just over five years since Harry had last seen Draco Malfoy, huddled in the Great Hall after the defeat of Voldemort. The passing time had been kind to him; the sallow, sunken hollows in Malfoy’s cheeks had filled out and his features no longer seemed quite so pointy. His hair was longer and cut stylishly, and he looked… good. Very good.
The mouth, however, was the same, pulling into a familiar thin line that had once preceded a sneer. Harry wasn’t sure what he expected Draco to say, but it certainly wasn’t, “I’m sorry, but you seem to have mistaken me for someone else. Good evening.” The words were calm, but delivered in a tone of finality.
Harry stared, certain he could not be mistaken. How could the man be anyone other than Draco Malfoy? It was impossible. Harry wanted to unbutton his expensive-looking wool coat and search for a scar left by a Sectumsepra spell… or pull up his left sleeve to locate the Dark Mark. Instead Harry let go of his arm.
“I’m… sorry,” Harry said lamely.
The man nodded curtly, turned, and walked briskly away. Harry was torn between the urge to follow or let him go; even if it was Draco Malfoy, he obviously had no wish to prolong the contact between himself and Harry.
He could be up to something, an insidious voice whispered in Harry’s head. With a quick glance around, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a spell just before the man turned a corner and disappeared from Harry’s sight. Harry told himself he probably would not need to use that Tracking Charm. Probably.
As he turned to finish his walk over the bridge, he tucked away his wand and pulled his hood more firmly over his face, cursing the water droplets that always seemed to find his glasses. It wasn’t until several steps later that he realized the blond man had been completely dry.
~~**~~
Harry sat in the coffee shop and twisted the cup in his hands, remembering to drink from it only occasionally. The Tracking Charm was good for twelve hours and then it would dissipate. Harry hadn’t wanted to follow right away, knowing Draco would likely expect such a thing sooner rather than later. Harry preferred him to lower his guard and continue about his business.
Two cups of strong, sweet coffee and forty-five minutes later, Harry left the coffee shop. The rain had stopped and it was much colder. He pulled his hoodie more tightly around himself and debated the wisdom of chasing down Draco Malfoy—or his remarkably similar-looking twin—in the middle of the night.
A faraway clock struck eleven as Harry ducked into a darkened alleyway and cast the spell that would activate the Tracking Charm. The tip of his wand moved of its own volition, pulling him to the left and tugging at him. Silvery numbers appeared in the air and then faded out. Three point eight leagues. He frowned when he realized he could go no farther without a map. He knew Draco’s distance and direction, but he dared not Apparate there blind. He needed a closer landmark.
Luckily, Grimmauld Place was close by, so Harry went home, searched through the messy drawers of his desk and finally Summoned a dusty map. “Three point eight leagues from the bridge would be approximately… here.” He tapped the map, rolled it up, and mentally crossed his fingers before Apparating to a hopefully-deserted street.
He did not appear in the middle of a car or a tree, but instead in the middle of a rubbish-lined street devoid of all signs of life. Breathing a sigh of relief, he checked the Tracking Charm again and walked a short distance until he reached a wrought-iron gate bordered by two brick pillars and a sturdy metal fence. A sign on one of the pillars read Willoughby’s Boarding House, est. 1643. Harry cast the spell once more; Draco was clearly inside.
Doubt assailed Harry for a moment. Why would Draco reside in a simple boarding house in the middle of London? What had he been doing after the war? Other than the fact that the Malfoys had slithered out of punishment (their story had been buried in the Daily Prophet in a blurb so small it had gained little attention), Harry knew very little of what the pure-blood family had been doing.
After waiting for a time, Harry decided Draco had settled in for the night. He debated casting a ward that would notify him if Draco left, but such wards were frequently detected by wizards passing through them. He decided to go home and return in the morning.
~~**~~
With a fortifying cup of hot tea and two pieces of marmalade toast in his belly, Harry dressed more warmly, slung on his invisibility cloak, and Apparated back to Willoughby’s Boarding House. There had been no Howlers awaiting him the previous night, for which he was grateful, but perhaps Ginny had not spilled the news of their breakup. Despite the reprieve, he knew it was only a matter of time.
Several hours later, the Tracking Charm wore off, leaving Harry to fret about the possibility of Draco having left the building by a different route, or even Disapparating. Shortly after noon, he had nearly made up his mind to slip into the building and start randomly checking rooms when the front door opened and Draco appeared. The clouds had broken during the night and allowed colder air to creep over the city. Draco wore the same wool coat from the prior night. It hugged his frame and the large black buttons, three per side, glinted as he moved. His white-blond hair gleamed as he strode down the steps.
Harry shrank back against the concealing shrubs, even though he knew the cloak concealed him from view. Draco’s eyes swept up and down the street as he opened and shut the wrought-iron gate. Seemingly satisfied that the street was deserted but for a Muggle couple pushing a pram and an infrequent automobile, Draco began to walk.
Harry hurried to keep him in sight, sticking to the opposite side of the street so that Draco would not hear his footsteps. Draco first stopped at a tea shop where he sat down at a tiny table and consumed two cups of tea and several iced cakes. Iced cakes for breakfast, Harry thought disdainfully. Of course, it was technically lunch, but even so…
Harry was near-frozen by the time Draco exited, and he was half-dying for a cup of hot tea. The cakes had looked delicious and Harry made a mental note to stop in and purchase some before returning home. At the moment any sort of food would probably look divine; Harry was hungry.
Draco walked southward with a jaunty step, looking as though he had made the trip a dozen times before. He skirted obstacles without pausing and when a loudly barking dog rushed the fence, Draco merely lifted a hand and said a word to it, appearing not the least bit startled. The neighbourhood seemed distinctly Muggle.
Draco stopped walking at a tall, narrow house on Canterbury Lane that was marked with a faded number 6. The bedraggled remains of spring flowers sat in two window boxes, shrivelled and in need of care. Draco rapped on the door and after what seemed an infinitely long time, the portal was opened by an elderly woman. Harry crept closer while waiting for the door to open; his approach was masked by the loud rattling of a delivery truck as it passed. He could clearly hear their dialog.
“Draco! What a lovely surprise.”
“Am I intruding?” Draco asked politely. “I was in the area and I just thought I would—“
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. Do come inside.” The old woman shuffled back and allowed the door to swing open. At that moment an ear-piercing shriek sounded from inside the house and a small shape hurtled forward and attached itself to Draco. Harry reflexively lifted his wand, thinking something was attacking.
“Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco!” The excited chant made Harry lower his wand guiltily as he realized it was only a child. To his surprise, Draco chuckled and patted the child—a girl—on the head in a gesture that looked surprisingly tender.
“Daisy, how is my delicate flower today?”
The girl pulled back and pouted slightly, although her gaze remained fixed on Draco’s midsection. The top of her head barely reached his sternum and her arms remained locked firmly around his waist. “I’m no delicate flower!” she announced and then grinned. “But I’m better now that you’re here. Did you bring me a present?”
“Daisy!” the old woman said reproachfully, “Mind your manners. Let go of poor Draco so he can come inside out of the cold.”
The child released Draco and turned back towards the interior of the house. Draco reached out and tugged at a lock of her hair as he followed them inside. The door shut.
Harry hurried forwards and withdrew an Extendable Ear from his pocket, thanking the Weasley twins once again for the invention. The door was tightly shut, but a quick spell cut a sliver from the edge of the door and allowed Harry to slip the ear through.
“…tea, Draco? Are you sure you were in the area and don’t have some business with Quentin?” The old woman’s voice was tremulous and barely audible. Harry wished he could see through the door, as he did not want to push the ear so far inside that it became obvious.
“No business, Gail. You know I like to stop in and see how my little flower is doing.” Draco’s tone was teasing.
“I am not a flower! Did you bring chocolate?”
“I don’t know. Let me check my pockets. Oh my, I seem to have forgotten… no wait, what could this be?” A rustle of paper met Harry’s magically enhanced hearing and he next heard a squeal of happiness.
“You spoil her rotten, Draco. She’s going to need new teeth if you keep that up.”
“A few sweets now and again never hurt anyone. My mother certainly stuffed me full at a young age and look at my teeth.”
“Does Draco have good teeth, Nan?” Daisy asked.
“Never you mind that. And don’t eat all of that chocolate at once, Missy, you barely ate your lunch and it will be tea time soon.”
“Listen to your Nan,” Draco advised. “I was planning to walk to the Commons. Do you mind if Daisy keeps me company? We won’t be long; I only need to pick up some things. Is there anything you need?”
“Can I go, Nan? Can I? Can I?”
“Daisy, calm yourself.” The old woman sighed. “I suppose it’s all right. And no, thank you, Draco. We don’t need anything.”
“Fetch your coat, Daisy. And stop eating that chocolate. You heard your grandmother. Move along. I don’t have all day.”
Harry quickly withdrew the Extendable Ear, repaired the door, and stepped out of the way just as the portal opened and Draco returned, followed by the girl. She took Draco’s arm and they started down the pavement.
“It doesn’t smell nice today,” Daisy commented. “I miss the flowers. But someone is cooking bacon and that’s a very nice smell, don’t you think?”
“It will be spring soon,” Draco replied. “And yes, bacon smells very nice and tastes even better.”
“Not as good as chocolate, though.”
Harry followed, far enough away that his footsteps would not be heard. He could not fathom Draco’s motives. Was the girl his daughter? Harry snorted at the thought. It was possible, he supposed, but Draco would have been thirteen or fourteen to father a child of her age; possible, but improbable. She also looked nothing like him, with plain features and wide-set brown eyes.
Daisy broke away and ran towards a nearby fence where she crouched and stuck her hands through the fence slats. There was something odd about her movements that Harry could not quite place.
“Puppy! Puppy, Puppy!” she called.
A bundle of fluff raced from a corner of the house, yapping wildly, and threw itself at her hands, licking and biting at them while she laughed merrily.
“Daisy, you must not keep doing that. You’re going to get bitten. And now you will smell like dog.”
“I don’t care. I like dogs. Gran won’t get me one, but one day I will be big and I can get my own dog and then I will have six!”
“Six dogs is a big much, don’t you think?”
“No, they will keep me warm. Sometimes my bedroom gets cold.”
“It does?” Draco’s voice sounded sharp and Harry glanced at him in surprise.
Daisy stopped patting the dog and got to her feet. “Yes. Pops says the boiler is having troubles. I don’t know what that is, but it’s in the basement and makes terrible noises and I’m not allowed to go down there. I don’t want to anyway, because it smells manky and Gran says there are spiders.”
“Bloody hell,” Draco said and pulled out a small notepad. He Conjured a quill and began to write. Harry drew in a surprised breath and glanced around. No Muggles were in sight and Daisy had not appeared to notice his momentary magic. Perhaps she was a wizard child.
Then she held her hands out and seemed to feel her way towards Draco. Harry realized with a jolt why she had seemed so odd—Daisy was blind.
“Bad words, for shame! You smell good, too, Draco,” she said as she found his arm and gripped it.
He put the notepad away and the quill vanished. “So you’ve said. I will try to watch my language so as not to offend your delicate ears.”
She giggled. “You talk funny. I can smell the market! Fish and chips! Pork pies! Gingerbread and shortbread!”
“I thought you just had lunch.”
“I did, but it will be tea time soon, remember?” She paused. “We could bring something back for Gran and Pops?”
“You have it all planned.”
“Not planned, but it is a good idea, don’t you think?”
The open market was not crowded, likely due to the cold weather and produce being largely out of season, so Harry managed to keep them in sight without undue risk of bumping into other shoppers. The fish mongers were out in force and Harry thought the smell overpowered everything except the vendor selling battered fish and piping hot chips. His mouth watered and he wished he could tug off the cloak and purchase a cardboard container of the mouth-watering treat. His stomach growled loudly, startling a passer-by who promptly looked confused.
Daisy seemed to have Draco firmly wrapped around her finger, for by the time they had traversed the market he had purchased fish, pork pies, several cakes, a baggie full of sweets, and a bracelet with assorted dangling charms that Daisy frequently twirled on her wrist.
They sat down at a cluster of cheap metal tables and ate their spoils. Harry watched enviously as Draco Malfoy consumed the greasy Muggle food with his fingers without a single complaint. When they were finished eating, they disposed of the wrappings and walked back to Daisy’s residence. Draco even bought a bouquet of hothouse flowers for Daisy’s grandmother, who kissed him on the cheek and blushed when he presented them to her.
Draco remained inside the house and Harry was reluctant to use the Extendable Ears again, but when fifteen minutes had passed without Draco returning, he resumed his former perch and sent the magical hearing device back inside.
“…arrange to have someone come and look at your… boiler? Daisy mentioned it was not functioning properly.”
Gail made an exasperated sound. “That girl! Honestly, Draco, you do more than enough. Quentin looked at it and it’s a simple thing to fix, he says.”
“Excellent, then it will not take the serviceman long. I will call them this afternoon. And how is your sister? Recovered from her bout with… whatever it was?”
“Yes, she’s fine, but—“
“And Quentin has been taking the poti—medicine I brought last time?”
“Yes, and bless you for finding that, Draco, it has worked wonders! Quentin is off today playing golf! He hasn’t been able to do that in two years due to his back pain, but your amazing tonic has him acting like a man half his age! Why, just yesterday he… Well, you don’t need to hear about that.” Gail coughed.
“Excellent.” There was a rustle and Harry quickly withdrew the ear, hearing as he did so, “Daisy, I am leaving! Do you plan to bid me adieu?”
Harry waited and a few minutes later, Draco appeared at the door again, only to turn and bend down in order to give Daisy an enormous hug. She placed several smacking kisses on his cheeks. “Thank you for coming to see me and taking me to the market and buying me things, Draco!”
“You are very welcome, Daisy.”
“I love you!”
Harry watched as Malfoy shut his eyes and hugged her even more tightly. “I love you, too, Flower.”
Then he got to his feet, every inch the ice prince once more, and strode away from the Muggle residence.
Harry followed him back to the boarding house and then Apparated home with more questions than he had started with the day before.
ementior, who has NINE BILLION WIPS that she needs to finish. We've arranged an exchange system now. A chapter for a chapter. GOOD PLAN, Y/Y? :DAnyway, this is a WIP, because it was supposed to be 2k and somehow grew to 20k and STILL IS NOT DONE. But I like it, so it will be.
HERE IS PART ONE.
*crosses fingers that lj cut works*
Harry stormed out of the house and started walking, trying to put as much distance between himself and Ginny Weasley as possible, even though she had already Flooed home after their argument. Harry had known it would not go well, given that he had finally broken the news to her that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wanted to date other people, that he did not want to settle down and get married and have babies like everyone—especially Ginny—had been pushing him to do for the past five years. What he hadn’t mentioned was that he had also finally admitted, to himself at least, that his habit of fantasizing about men was not a passing fancy. Ginny was upset enough; adding that titbit might have got him hexed for sure.
As it was, Harry fully expected a Howler or a visit from Molly Weasley, demanding to know what Harry had done to send Ginny home in tears. Harry sighed and pulled the hood of his jacket over his head; the rain was turning into a downpour.
The need for a cup of coffee, or something more bracing, sent Harry Apparating to a different part of London as soon as he rounded the corner and stopped near a concealing hedge. He appeared in a shadowed alcove of a deserted alley close to London Bridge. It was just as dark, but raining slightly less, coming down in large droplets instead of buckets. Harry knew there was a coffee shop with decadent pastries just around the corner and beyond the bridge.
He walked briskly, head down, only looking up once at the sound of footsteps. A man approached at a steady walk, and even in the dark Harry could appreciate the slender lines of his body, accented by the dark coat the man wore. The streetlight highlighted a flash of pale hair and Harry smiled appreciatively; he had discovered a recent inclination towards blonds.
The man glanced up as Harry drew nearer. Their eyes locked and Harry felt a jolt of recognition. He halted in his tracks and turned as the man passed by.
“Malfoy?” he asked in disbelief.
The man did not pause; in fact, his footfalls seemed to increase in speed as he quickened his pace. Harry took several jogging steps after him and his fingers touched the man’s arm, urging him to halt. “Draco, wait!”
The man stopped and looked Harry up and down. Harry held his breath. It had been just over five years since Harry had last seen Draco Malfoy, huddled in the Great Hall after the defeat of Voldemort. The passing time had been kind to him; the sallow, sunken hollows in Malfoy’s cheeks had filled out and his features no longer seemed quite so pointy. His hair was longer and cut stylishly, and he looked… good. Very good.
The mouth, however, was the same, pulling into a familiar thin line that had once preceded a sneer. Harry wasn’t sure what he expected Draco to say, but it certainly wasn’t, “I’m sorry, but you seem to have mistaken me for someone else. Good evening.” The words were calm, but delivered in a tone of finality.
Harry stared, certain he could not be mistaken. How could the man be anyone other than Draco Malfoy? It was impossible. Harry wanted to unbutton his expensive-looking wool coat and search for a scar left by a Sectumsepra spell… or pull up his left sleeve to locate the Dark Mark. Instead Harry let go of his arm.
“I’m… sorry,” Harry said lamely.
The man nodded curtly, turned, and walked briskly away. Harry was torn between the urge to follow or let him go; even if it was Draco Malfoy, he obviously had no wish to prolong the contact between himself and Harry.
He could be up to something, an insidious voice whispered in Harry’s head. With a quick glance around, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a spell just before the man turned a corner and disappeared from Harry’s sight. Harry told himself he probably would not need to use that Tracking Charm. Probably.
As he turned to finish his walk over the bridge, he tucked away his wand and pulled his hood more firmly over his face, cursing the water droplets that always seemed to find his glasses. It wasn’t until several steps later that he realized the blond man had been completely dry.
~~**~~
Harry sat in the coffee shop and twisted the cup in his hands, remembering to drink from it only occasionally. The Tracking Charm was good for twelve hours and then it would dissipate. Harry hadn’t wanted to follow right away, knowing Draco would likely expect such a thing sooner rather than later. Harry preferred him to lower his guard and continue about his business.
Two cups of strong, sweet coffee and forty-five minutes later, Harry left the coffee shop. The rain had stopped and it was much colder. He pulled his hoodie more tightly around himself and debated the wisdom of chasing down Draco Malfoy—or his remarkably similar-looking twin—in the middle of the night.
A faraway clock struck eleven as Harry ducked into a darkened alleyway and cast the spell that would activate the Tracking Charm. The tip of his wand moved of its own volition, pulling him to the left and tugging at him. Silvery numbers appeared in the air and then faded out. Three point eight leagues. He frowned when he realized he could go no farther without a map. He knew Draco’s distance and direction, but he dared not Apparate there blind. He needed a closer landmark.
Luckily, Grimmauld Place was close by, so Harry went home, searched through the messy drawers of his desk and finally Summoned a dusty map. “Three point eight leagues from the bridge would be approximately… here.” He tapped the map, rolled it up, and mentally crossed his fingers before Apparating to a hopefully-deserted street.
He did not appear in the middle of a car or a tree, but instead in the middle of a rubbish-lined street devoid of all signs of life. Breathing a sigh of relief, he checked the Tracking Charm again and walked a short distance until he reached a wrought-iron gate bordered by two brick pillars and a sturdy metal fence. A sign on one of the pillars read Willoughby’s Boarding House, est. 1643. Harry cast the spell once more; Draco was clearly inside.
Doubt assailed Harry for a moment. Why would Draco reside in a simple boarding house in the middle of London? What had he been doing after the war? Other than the fact that the Malfoys had slithered out of punishment (their story had been buried in the Daily Prophet in a blurb so small it had gained little attention), Harry knew very little of what the pure-blood family had been doing.
After waiting for a time, Harry decided Draco had settled in for the night. He debated casting a ward that would notify him if Draco left, but such wards were frequently detected by wizards passing through them. He decided to go home and return in the morning.
~~**~~
With a fortifying cup of hot tea and two pieces of marmalade toast in his belly, Harry dressed more warmly, slung on his invisibility cloak, and Apparated back to Willoughby’s Boarding House. There had been no Howlers awaiting him the previous night, for which he was grateful, but perhaps Ginny had not spilled the news of their breakup. Despite the reprieve, he knew it was only a matter of time.
Several hours later, the Tracking Charm wore off, leaving Harry to fret about the possibility of Draco having left the building by a different route, or even Disapparating. Shortly after noon, he had nearly made up his mind to slip into the building and start randomly checking rooms when the front door opened and Draco appeared. The clouds had broken during the night and allowed colder air to creep over the city. Draco wore the same wool coat from the prior night. It hugged his frame and the large black buttons, three per side, glinted as he moved. His white-blond hair gleamed as he strode down the steps.
Harry shrank back against the concealing shrubs, even though he knew the cloak concealed him from view. Draco’s eyes swept up and down the street as he opened and shut the wrought-iron gate. Seemingly satisfied that the street was deserted but for a Muggle couple pushing a pram and an infrequent automobile, Draco began to walk.
Harry hurried to keep him in sight, sticking to the opposite side of the street so that Draco would not hear his footsteps. Draco first stopped at a tea shop where he sat down at a tiny table and consumed two cups of tea and several iced cakes. Iced cakes for breakfast, Harry thought disdainfully. Of course, it was technically lunch, but even so…
Harry was near-frozen by the time Draco exited, and he was half-dying for a cup of hot tea. The cakes had looked delicious and Harry made a mental note to stop in and purchase some before returning home. At the moment any sort of food would probably look divine; Harry was hungry.
Draco walked southward with a jaunty step, looking as though he had made the trip a dozen times before. He skirted obstacles without pausing and when a loudly barking dog rushed the fence, Draco merely lifted a hand and said a word to it, appearing not the least bit startled. The neighbourhood seemed distinctly Muggle.
Draco stopped walking at a tall, narrow house on Canterbury Lane that was marked with a faded number 6. The bedraggled remains of spring flowers sat in two window boxes, shrivelled and in need of care. Draco rapped on the door and after what seemed an infinitely long time, the portal was opened by an elderly woman. Harry crept closer while waiting for the door to open; his approach was masked by the loud rattling of a delivery truck as it passed. He could clearly hear their dialog.
“Draco! What a lovely surprise.”
“Am I intruding?” Draco asked politely. “I was in the area and I just thought I would—“
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. Do come inside.” The old woman shuffled back and allowed the door to swing open. At that moment an ear-piercing shriek sounded from inside the house and a small shape hurtled forward and attached itself to Draco. Harry reflexively lifted his wand, thinking something was attacking.
“Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco!” The excited chant made Harry lower his wand guiltily as he realized it was only a child. To his surprise, Draco chuckled and patted the child—a girl—on the head in a gesture that looked surprisingly tender.
“Daisy, how is my delicate flower today?”
The girl pulled back and pouted slightly, although her gaze remained fixed on Draco’s midsection. The top of her head barely reached his sternum and her arms remained locked firmly around his waist. “I’m no delicate flower!” she announced and then grinned. “But I’m better now that you’re here. Did you bring me a present?”
“Daisy!” the old woman said reproachfully, “Mind your manners. Let go of poor Draco so he can come inside out of the cold.”
The child released Draco and turned back towards the interior of the house. Draco reached out and tugged at a lock of her hair as he followed them inside. The door shut.
Harry hurried forwards and withdrew an Extendable Ear from his pocket, thanking the Weasley twins once again for the invention. The door was tightly shut, but a quick spell cut a sliver from the edge of the door and allowed Harry to slip the ear through.
“…tea, Draco? Are you sure you were in the area and don’t have some business with Quentin?” The old woman’s voice was tremulous and barely audible. Harry wished he could see through the door, as he did not want to push the ear so far inside that it became obvious.
“No business, Gail. You know I like to stop in and see how my little flower is doing.” Draco’s tone was teasing.
“I am not a flower! Did you bring chocolate?”
“I don’t know. Let me check my pockets. Oh my, I seem to have forgotten… no wait, what could this be?” A rustle of paper met Harry’s magically enhanced hearing and he next heard a squeal of happiness.
“You spoil her rotten, Draco. She’s going to need new teeth if you keep that up.”
“A few sweets now and again never hurt anyone. My mother certainly stuffed me full at a young age and look at my teeth.”
“Does Draco have good teeth, Nan?” Daisy asked.
“Never you mind that. And don’t eat all of that chocolate at once, Missy, you barely ate your lunch and it will be tea time soon.”
“Listen to your Nan,” Draco advised. “I was planning to walk to the Commons. Do you mind if Daisy keeps me company? We won’t be long; I only need to pick up some things. Is there anything you need?”
“Can I go, Nan? Can I? Can I?”
“Daisy, calm yourself.” The old woman sighed. “I suppose it’s all right. And no, thank you, Draco. We don’t need anything.”
“Fetch your coat, Daisy. And stop eating that chocolate. You heard your grandmother. Move along. I don’t have all day.”
Harry quickly withdrew the Extendable Ear, repaired the door, and stepped out of the way just as the portal opened and Draco returned, followed by the girl. She took Draco’s arm and they started down the pavement.
“It doesn’t smell nice today,” Daisy commented. “I miss the flowers. But someone is cooking bacon and that’s a very nice smell, don’t you think?”
“It will be spring soon,” Draco replied. “And yes, bacon smells very nice and tastes even better.”
“Not as good as chocolate, though.”
Harry followed, far enough away that his footsteps would not be heard. He could not fathom Draco’s motives. Was the girl his daughter? Harry snorted at the thought. It was possible, he supposed, but Draco would have been thirteen or fourteen to father a child of her age; possible, but improbable. She also looked nothing like him, with plain features and wide-set brown eyes.
Daisy broke away and ran towards a nearby fence where she crouched and stuck her hands through the fence slats. There was something odd about her movements that Harry could not quite place.
“Puppy! Puppy, Puppy!” she called.
A bundle of fluff raced from a corner of the house, yapping wildly, and threw itself at her hands, licking and biting at them while she laughed merrily.
“Daisy, you must not keep doing that. You’re going to get bitten. And now you will smell like dog.”
“I don’t care. I like dogs. Gran won’t get me one, but one day I will be big and I can get my own dog and then I will have six!”
“Six dogs is a big much, don’t you think?”
“No, they will keep me warm. Sometimes my bedroom gets cold.”
“It does?” Draco’s voice sounded sharp and Harry glanced at him in surprise.
Daisy stopped patting the dog and got to her feet. “Yes. Pops says the boiler is having troubles. I don’t know what that is, but it’s in the basement and makes terrible noises and I’m not allowed to go down there. I don’t want to anyway, because it smells manky and Gran says there are spiders.”
“Bloody hell,” Draco said and pulled out a small notepad. He Conjured a quill and began to write. Harry drew in a surprised breath and glanced around. No Muggles were in sight and Daisy had not appeared to notice his momentary magic. Perhaps she was a wizard child.
Then she held her hands out and seemed to feel her way towards Draco. Harry realized with a jolt why she had seemed so odd—Daisy was blind.
“Bad words, for shame! You smell good, too, Draco,” she said as she found his arm and gripped it.
He put the notepad away and the quill vanished. “So you’ve said. I will try to watch my language so as not to offend your delicate ears.”
She giggled. “You talk funny. I can smell the market! Fish and chips! Pork pies! Gingerbread and shortbread!”
“I thought you just had lunch.”
“I did, but it will be tea time soon, remember?” She paused. “We could bring something back for Gran and Pops?”
“You have it all planned.”
“Not planned, but it is a good idea, don’t you think?”
The open market was not crowded, likely due to the cold weather and produce being largely out of season, so Harry managed to keep them in sight without undue risk of bumping into other shoppers. The fish mongers were out in force and Harry thought the smell overpowered everything except the vendor selling battered fish and piping hot chips. His mouth watered and he wished he could tug off the cloak and purchase a cardboard container of the mouth-watering treat. His stomach growled loudly, startling a passer-by who promptly looked confused.
Daisy seemed to have Draco firmly wrapped around her finger, for by the time they had traversed the market he had purchased fish, pork pies, several cakes, a baggie full of sweets, and a bracelet with assorted dangling charms that Daisy frequently twirled on her wrist.
They sat down at a cluster of cheap metal tables and ate their spoils. Harry watched enviously as Draco Malfoy consumed the greasy Muggle food with his fingers without a single complaint. When they were finished eating, they disposed of the wrappings and walked back to Daisy’s residence. Draco even bought a bouquet of hothouse flowers for Daisy’s grandmother, who kissed him on the cheek and blushed when he presented them to her.
Draco remained inside the house and Harry was reluctant to use the Extendable Ears again, but when fifteen minutes had passed without Draco returning, he resumed his former perch and sent the magical hearing device back inside.
“…arrange to have someone come and look at your… boiler? Daisy mentioned it was not functioning properly.”
Gail made an exasperated sound. “That girl! Honestly, Draco, you do more than enough. Quentin looked at it and it’s a simple thing to fix, he says.”
“Excellent, then it will not take the serviceman long. I will call them this afternoon. And how is your sister? Recovered from her bout with… whatever it was?”
“Yes, she’s fine, but—“
“And Quentin has been taking the poti—medicine I brought last time?”
“Yes, and bless you for finding that, Draco, it has worked wonders! Quentin is off today playing golf! He hasn’t been able to do that in two years due to his back pain, but your amazing tonic has him acting like a man half his age! Why, just yesterday he… Well, you don’t need to hear about that.” Gail coughed.
“Excellent.” There was a rustle and Harry quickly withdrew the ear, hearing as he did so, “Daisy, I am leaving! Do you plan to bid me adieu?”
Harry waited and a few minutes later, Draco appeared at the door again, only to turn and bend down in order to give Daisy an enormous hug. She placed several smacking kisses on his cheeks. “Thank you for coming to see me and taking me to the market and buying me things, Draco!”
“You are very welcome, Daisy.”
“I love you!”
Harry watched as Malfoy shut his eyes and hugged her even more tightly. “I love you, too, Flower.”
Then he got to his feet, every inch the ice prince once more, and strode away from the Muggle residence.
Harry followed him back to the boarding house and then Apparated home with more questions than he had started with the day before.