&o be an emphasis on the word everyo Harry deided it was imagiill, the word held weight.
& h the life they had allowed him by losing theirs. He ing. He kneing. A part of it all art of his mi he ould justify it. He kneant him to wallow. His parents wouldn’t want him to, nor would Fred, nor would Tonks or Lupin. And shouldn’t that be enough? But then again, what would Drao Malfoy want? Would he like t beause of him? Perhaps he would smirk and say “Ah, Potter, I never knew you ared,” in that infuriating but so atronizing tone of his. And thehought of moving on, he ould only imagihe wounded look on Malfoy’s fae, the oed you to thi was really more lose to the truth thao admit. And in a ft voie, ays w from Malfoy (his aidity was ), he would say “So soon, Potter? Careful, or people will think you’re happy about it.”
Harry was tryirying to onvi Malfoy would all. And it wasn’t so soon. It had nearly been four years. Everyone, even Malfoy’s own mother, seemed t better than Harry.
“If you ould tell me,” MGonagall ihought, “before the end of this term, I reiate it. Just so I an fi should you refuse, or so you ould start your studies should you aept. I believe there are still some lessohe ssroom from previous teahers should you hough I would beg you to refrain from using too many of Lokhart’s. I know Lupi a fehih I think I would ene.”
Harry nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed.
“I was alsed by Hagrid to remind you that he would be happy to see you again. Eveo bake you a birthday ake this year should you be on the grounds,” MGonagall added, and with this there was a gleam of mishief in her eye.
It ast ohe m. Harry had fallen into a terrible sleep pattern, spending most of his time alone, whih he fouo do when no one else was awake to bother him. To like he would rather like to sleep, but it had beome an impossibility. Hogwarts had always been more of a home to him than any other pe he had lived, even now, havi Grimmauld Pe for several years. But the age old phrase “you an never go home again” rang through his head at the pr. And in truth, he ouldn’t. He would return this time as a teaher, not a student. Most of the people that made it hone, as well. Dumbledore would side of his portrait. her would any of the Weasleys, or Hermione, or—his train of thought sputtered to a stop. Or Drao. He was mildly armed that Malfoy was ihe list of people that made the astle a home, as for most of his life he had regarded him with the same distaste as he had Dudley, but even more so, he was startled by the word itself. He had thought “or Drao.” Full stop. Period. He knew formality didn’t matter in his own mind, but he had o Harry. Harry had hought to refer to him by his first entirely sure he had ever even said it aloud on its own.
“Drao,” he whispered, barely a oo loud i house. The word felt odd in his mouth. His hest tightened inexpliably ahe urge to ry. He shook his head, tryihe feeling.
&o a deisio be sat at home, alone, whispering a dead boy’s name in his kithen. Surely, a few mohis and he would be ompletely mad.
&ed down a note and whistled for Bo?tes , who he heard ruffle his feathers iher room and thehrough the doorway.
&he es’s leg, theh the top of his owl’s head.
&o, MGonagall, would you? Maybe take a look in the owlery while you’re there. You’ll be spendi of time there I imagine,” he murmured, slippi.
&rue. Maybe he o home, but hell, if he wasn’t going to try.
Chapter 3
“Did I tell you Mr. Potter will be returning tonagall asked asually, sippi her desk.
Drao hoked ohful of tea he had been swallowing.
“Exuse me?” he said, trying not to sound too shoked.
“I asked him to fill the Defeion,” MGonagall ontinued, seemingly oblivious to Drao’s shok.
“Right,” Drao he feelio leah from his hands, whih seemed to be his body’s go to reation to anythi down his mug.
“I only warn you beause, as you know, Potter has an affinity f and sneaking about, and I am nrown out of it. You must be areful at night. Disillusioil you are out on the grounds, and maybe even while y about, unless you’ve hainued.
Drao nodded.
“You’ll likely have to stop your work iheo take his meals there oasionally, if memory serves me right,” she added.
“Just tell him ween five ahe m,” Drao asked, hoping it didn’t soue. He liked the kithehe elves. They were, afterall, the losest thio friends.
“I an hardly make a rule that speifi, Mr. Malfoy, espeially sier seems to think rules are made tonagall replied.
Drao snorted.
& been well, Malfoy,” she added.
“How do you mean?”
Not sik. Surely, he would have read it somewhere if he was sik. Eveed to keep it under s, ohe less reliable gossip magazines would have gotten a hold of it an