What If?

Chapter Six

"It's about Harry," Narcissa said slowly. "People are trying to kill him."

"I beg your pardon?" Draco asked, looking astonished.

"People are trying to kill Harry," Narcissa repeated unhappily.

"Who?!" Draco demanded. Harry just stood there, shell-shocked.

"Death Eaters."

"Why?"

"Surely you know that the reason the Dark Lord lost power eleven years ago was because Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse, Draco?" Narcissa replied. "Oh, come here, Harry dear." Harry nodded and went to sit down next to Draco on the bed. Narcissa pulled him forward and kissed him on the forehead. "Don't worry, hon. I know all the plans - if we tell Lucius that I merely fainted as I hadn't been eating enough, and I act like I'm still under the Imperius curse, he will continue to tell me his plans.

"Regardless, the Dark Lord believes that Harry should die. He tried to kill him once, and will try to kill him again. Why? I don't know. It has something to do with a prophecy about which none but two know the full version of. He wants this prophecy.

"My plan. I pretend to act under Imperius; you two pretend you know nothing of what I have told you. The Healers here successfully removed all spells that had been cast on me when they had to Heal me. Your father doesn't know this; not many do. I was training to be a medi-witch in school.

"Boys, you must not tell anyone. Not a word, you hear?" Narcissa finished, hissing these last words viciously. Harry and Draco both nodded. Narcissa picked up her wand, waved it and muttered a few words.

"Even if you wanted to, you can tell no one about this except Dumbledore. I believe he has to know so that he can help you, Harry. You will more than likely receive an owl from him soon. Again, act as though you know nothing."

A knock sounded on the door.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" a Healer called through the door. "Your husband is here to see you."

Narcissa sent both boys a meaningful look before assuming a blank face. "Let him in," she replied.

The door open and a formidable-looking Lucius Malfoy strode in, his black robes and cloak billowing impressively out behind him. Harry raised an eyebrow at his attempts, and Draco was choking back a laugh by pretending to have swallowed some water the wrong way.

Oh dear God, Harry sent. That is just ridiculous.

I know! Draco agreed. Who does that anymore? It went out five years ago.

"Narcissa!" Lucius exclaimed. "What happened?"

"I fainted," Narcissa replied, her eyes and face still blank from seeming lack of emotion and thought. "I haven't been eating as well as I should."

"Do you wish to go home?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes," she responded. When Lucius turned and beckoned to the medi-witch, she sent the two boys a quick wink and mouthed "Remember what I told you!".

"Boys," Lucius said, turning to them. "Do you want to stay in Diagon Alley, or would you like to come home with Narcissa and I?"

"Stay," they said immediately.

"As you wish," Lucius nodded. "Off you go, then."

Draco and Harry left the room and began to make their way back down the many stairs.

"Do you need to get money?" Harry asked Draco.

"No, my father slipped me a bag of Galleons when he came in," Draco replied, holding up the bag.

"Why?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing.

Draco shrugged. "No idea," he said airily. "Shall we go? I have some Christmas shopping to do."

~*~

Several hours later, the two boys were still shopping, although with a great deal more packages and happier expressions than earlier on.

Harry had gotten Narcissa a rare bottle of perfume, Lucius a book on the history of the Dark Arts, Draco - although he didn't know it - two ancient books, one in Latin and the other in Gaelic. Crabbe and Goyle were getting the same thing, a huge parcel full of the best sweets from Honeyduke's in Hogsmeade, which he had gotten a few weeks ago courtesy of owl order. Sally-Anne, Pansy, Millicent and Morag were each getting assorted hair clips and the like, which Draco had helped him choose, and Blaise got a yearly subscription to Gladrags' Wizarding Wear.

"Is there anything else you need?" Draco asked Harry.

"No, I don't think so. How are we going to get back?" Harry replied.

"Father said to meet him at Flourish and Blotts at four o'clock. I expect he'll have the driver here."

"When are we going to owl Dumbledore? We won't be able to do it from the Manor," Harry said.

"No point in owling him yet. We're going back to school soon, so we'll talk to him then. If Mother tells us to, we'll do it earlier, but other than that, I see no point to," Draco reasoned. Harry nodded.

"Well, should we go to Flourish and Blotts now, then?" he asked.

"Yes, we probably should, it'd be about four," Draco replied as they began to make their way down to the bookshop. "If we're early, we can just have another look."

However, when they reached the store, they saw Lucius Malfoy standing out the front looking impatient.

"Where have you boys been?" he asked them as soon as they got into his line of vision.

"Shopping," Draco said, his voice dripping with either unnoticed or ignored sarcasm.

"Well, come," Lucius said, imperiously turning on his heel and beckoning for them to follow him.

Sighing, Harry followed him. Draco made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat, but also joined them.

When they had reached the arch to the entrance of Diagon Alley, Mr. Malfoy pulled out his dagger and his wand, which he waved at the knife and said "Portus". He held it out, and Harry, following Draco's lead, put a finger on the knife.

It felt as though someone had jerked a hook behind his bellybutton. Everything was swirling, and when they finally reached the living room of the Manor, Harry collapsed onto the floor. He noticed Draco next to him, but standing casually - but with ever-perfect posture - was Lucius Malfoy, without a hair out of place.

He looked towards Draco, confused.

Portkey, the blonde boy explained.

Aren't they illegal without Ministry approval? Harry asked.

Yes, Draco replied, but since when has my father paid heed to rules? Besides, he "donates" a lot of money to the Ministry. I call it bribery. Anyway, it means he can basically do whatever he wants without worrying about Cornelius Fudge - he's the Minister - sending him off to Azkaban.

It's a fairly smart way to do things, I suppose, Harry mused. Is that why the Gaelic writing above your vault read, "Wealth is power"?

Yes. It's also an illegal way to do things, but that doesn't matter.

Why is it in Gaelic? Are you Irish?

My father's great grandparents were, yes. And my mother's parents were, too, but she was a Black. The Blacks were a very highly respected family, in their time. Now there's only a few people left; one of my cousins, Nymphadora Tonks - she's an Auror - my mother, of course, and a criminal, Sirius Black. He was put into Azkaban for murdering 13 people, 12 Muggles and a wizard, Peter Pettigrew. He's also your godfather.

He's what?! Harry asked, alarmed.

Your godfather. He was also your father's best friend, along with Remus Lupin and that Peter fellow. We best go up to our rooms, or something, Father's looking at us strangely.

Harry lifted his head and saw Lucius, staring at him. He smiled politely and walked up the stairs to his and Draco's room, closely followed by the other boy.

"I don't think he much likes me," Harry said hesitantly.

"Oh, yes he does," Draco replied. "He's like that with everyone, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm his son, aren't I?" Draco said. "Care for a game of chess? Or, we can do something a bit more fun..." he smirked, sidling over to where Harry was standing in front of the roaring fire and slipping his arms around the dark haired boy's waist. Harry grinned and kissed Draco, putting his hand on the other boy's back and pulling him closer. Draco smiled and nipped at Harry's bottom lip, parting them slightly. He slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth, exploring it with a bit of diffidence. He was heartened, however, when Harry let out a tiny moan. Breaking off, he smirked at him.

"Well, what should we do? Chess?" Draco asked.

"No," Harry replied concisely, placing a myriad of light kisses all over Draco's face and neck. "You're absolutely gorgeous, you know, Drake?" he murmured against his pale collarbone. Harry sat down in one of the armchairs and pulled Draco down on top of him, so the lighter boy was sitting on his lap. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing again a few times before just sitting together, watching the flames in the fireplace flicker and burn, eventually dying to just embers.

Then, Draco stood, smiling down at Harry.

"You're beautiful, Harry," he whispered, leaning down to graze a thumb across his cheek. Harry took hold of his hands and placed feather-like kisses all over them, admiring their pale and slim beauty.

"We should go to bed," he said reluctantly.

Draco sighed. "I suppose so," he replied, just as unenthusiastically.

Harry let go of Draco's hands, smiling fondly at him.

"Sweet dreams, Draco," he said.

"You too, Harry. Goodnight," Draco replied, brushing his lips quickly across Harry's.

Both boys left for their rooms and began to get ready for bed.

Harry was almost asleep when he heard the soft padding of footsteps in his room. Then, illuminated ethereally by the moonlight, Draco appeared next to his bed.

"Draco?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"Can I hop in with you? I got lonely," Draco said softly.

"Of course," Harry replied immediately, pulling back the covers and motioning for Draco to get in. He did, and moved over towards Harry, cuddling his waist and putting his head on Harry's shoulder, who smiled and slid his own arm around Draco's bare waist.

"Goodnight, Draco," he whispered.

Draco just mumbled incoherently and snuggled into Harry's side.

~*~

A few days later and it was Christmas Eve. Similar to the Muggle's traditions, the Malfoys had a pine tree up in their living room, although it was decorated with a stream of silver bubbles and real faeries, which twittered around the tree, talking and giggling amongst themselves. Underneath, wrapped in silver, gold, midnight blue and emerald green were presents in abundance. Although there were only presents for four people under the tree, there were at least 50 or 60 gifts wrapped. When Harry saw them, stacked neatly below the Christmas tree, he shook his head in amazement.

"Draco," he called. "Who else is coming for Christmas?"

"No one!" Draco yelled back. "It's only us four!"

"But there's so many presents! How many did your parents get for you?!"

"They're not all for me, idiot," Draco said, coming to the door. "They got heaps for you, too."

"Why would they get me presents?" Harry asked, confused. Draco just rolled his eyes.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," he told Harry, walking over to him and slipping his hand into the other boy's.

"Boys, you two should get into bed. We have an early start tomorrow morning - we're having brunch at the Parkinson's at eleven o'clock. Dinner will be here, beginning at eight. We've quite a busy day tomorrow, boys, so don't stay up too late," Narcissa said, standing where Draco had a few minutes earlier.

"Yes, mother," they said in unison, grinning at each other. Narcissa just shook her head, an amused smile gracing her face as she left.

"Shall we?" Draco asked Harry.

"We shall," Harry replied.

Both bounded up the stairs into their room. They rarely slept alone anymore; most nights, Harry or Draco would slip into the other's bed before long. This night was no different.

"Drake?" Harry asked quietly.

"Mm? Come hop in," the other boy replied, and Harry obliged willingly.

"What do you think you'll get for Christmas?" he asked.

"I've got no idea. I don't care if I get anything, because I've got you," Draco said in a slightly teasing tone, leaning down to kiss Harry's head.

"Aww, aren't you sweet?" Harry responded, tracing patterns on Draco's bare stomach with his fingernail.

"Stop that," Draco giggled. "It tickles."

Harry, of course, didn't stop. He began writing invisible sentences, and it turned into a game.

"To...tomb? Tome? Tones? What was that?" Draco asked. Harry laughed.

"You know I can't tell you. You have to guess," he replied playfully.

"Oh, this is getting boring," Draco said. Harry nodded his agreement, and sat up, leaning down beside Draco's ear, whispering silly things into it.

"You remember when we were being chased by Filch and we hid out in the girls' bathroom? Well, the ghost in there, her name was Moaning Myrtle. She died from the Basilisk; Salazar Slytherin's evil monster, remember? She was a Muggleborn, a Mudblood. That's why the Basilisk killed her, you know. You told me about the Chamber of Secrets. Only Slytherin's heir could open it, and unleash the evil within, to purge the school of those unworthy to learn the art of magic."

"Harry, you're rambling," Draco told him. Harry, not moving an inch, his lips brushing Draco's ear when he spoke, continued.

"I know. I did some extra research on this, and I found that one of Slytherin's only heirs was Tom Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort. Your family is descended directly from him, too. I'm descendant from both Slytherin and Gryffindor, unfortunately. My mother's side, far back, were Pureblood wizards, you know? They were the Slytherin side. The Potter's, however, were entirely Gryffindor. Not a soul out of their family who wasn't in Gryffindor. I'm the first to be in any house but that one. Interesting, isn't it?"

"Actually, it is," Draco said, contemplating. "I might have to do some more research on that when we get back to school."

"Until then, let's sleep! And open presents and eat good food and do other fun stuff tomorrow!" Harry said joyfully. Draco laughed.

"You're absolutely adorable, Harry," he said.

"Not as adorable as you," he replied, kissing Draco on the nose, the cheek, the collarbone and lips in quick succession. "Goodnight, my beautiful ethereal blonde angel," Harry said.

"And goodnight to you, my charmingly gorgeous cutely endearing boyfriend," Draco replied, giggling slightly. Harry made the face and settled into the fair-haired boy's arms, falling asleep almost immediately.

~*~

"Time to get up and open your presents, boys!"

Harry sat up, bleary-eyed from sleep. Draco, however, bounded out of bed and pulled on a shirt.

"Come on, Harry!" he said excitedly. Harry groaned, placed his glasses on and shrugged on a jumper.

"Sleeeep..." he moaned, stumbling out of the door behind Draco.

"Is he always like this?" Narcissa asked her son worriedly.

"Every morning," Draco grinned. Narcissa just shook her head in wonderment.

"He's definitely not a morning person," she said.

"That's what I said."

"Harry, dear, do you want some coffee?" Narcissa asked.

"You have coffee?" Harry replied, brightening visibly. "Yes, please!"

"You shouldn't drink that, Harry. It fills your body with toxins. Caffeine is terrible for your complexion, not to mention your teeth and hydration! Besides, aren't you a little bit young to be drinking...whoa, that has to be a record for the fastest drunk cup of coffee ever," Draco said, blinking in amazement.

"Be quiet, Draco. Caffeine good," Harry said.

"Hurry up, boys!" Lucius called jovially from the living room. "Five seconds and I'm going to start opening my presents! Four...Three..."

"Alright, we're coming," Draco said, following his mother and Harry into the room.

"Draco, your presents are over there, on the couch. Harry, yours are on the armchair next to Draco's, see?" Narcissa directed them both.

"Oh my God," Harry breathed. He turned swiftly. "Narcissa, you didn't need to get me anything!"

"Of course we did, Harry dear," Narcissa replied.

"What kind of a Christmas would it be if you didn't have presents?" Mr. Malfoy asked.

Stunned, Harry sat down and began to open the presents at the foot of the armchair he was in.

~*~

An hour, twenty-five presents and a mound of wrapping paper later, Harry had finished unwrapping all his presents. From Draco, he had gotten a beautiful feather quill, an inkpot with ink that was enchanting to change colours according to the user's preferences and a book called Quidditch Through The Ages. From Sally-Anne, Morgy, Millicent and Pansy, he had gotten pretty much similar things - a combination of books, sweets and other such paraphernalia. Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise had all pitched in to get him a two-year subscription to Quidditch Weekly, the national Quidditch magazine. Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy had gotten him an identical knife to the one Draco had - although his was lacking the Malfoy crest - various books, a beautiful silver, emerald encrusted signet ring and (because they had heard recently from Draco that Harry was interested in foreign languages) an enchanted book teaching the reader any language he or she wished, according to their current wish.

The most intriguing gift, however, was an Invisibility Cloak. It came with an unsigned note that merely said the Cloak was his father's, and wished him a very merry Christmas.

Sighing, Harry put the thought aside to ponder over later. He and Draco levitated their piles of presents up to their rooms and began to quickly get ready for the Parkinsons' brunch.

~*~

"Oh. Thank goodness that's over," Harry sighed, falling onto his bed. "Pansy seemed awfully upset when she found out that you're my boyfriend, didn't she?

"You mean, she burst into tears, locked herself in her room and refused to come out again, whilst threatening to anyone who came near her that if they said another word to her, she would throw herself out of her third-floor bedroom window?" Draco asked, looking amused.

"Something like that," Harry agreed. "But now, all we have to do is wait for the second round tonight," he grimaced.

"Oh, I'd forgotten that we had that!" Draco moaned, flopping down next to Harry. "Do we have to go?"

"Yes, you do, Draco Malfoy!" Narcissa said, coming into Harry's room and grinning at them. "I'm sorry, I know it's a terrible bore, but we have to do it. Keep up appearances, you know the drill."

"Mother, must you listen in on all of our conversations?" Draco demanded.

"Well, you were talking quite loudly," Narcissa said. "Pansy was really that upset?"

"Worse," Harry said. "Draco was talking about the part when she was beginning to brighten up about it."

"Oh, the poor girl," Narcissa said compassionately.

"Ah, well," Draco responded airily. "She'll get over it."

"Draco!" Narcissa said. "Be nice."

"I was!" Draco protested.

"Well, get changed. The dinner begins in half an hour."

"What?!"

"We were at the Parkinsons' for eight hours?!"

"Yes, we were. It went quickly, didn't it? Now, hurry along, you two. People will be here any minute now."

"Mother, do we have to?"

"I've already told you, yes. Don't worry though, I'll send you off after two hours, so you can "get to bed"," Narcissa giggled.

"I do not go to bed at eight-thirty!" Draco cried.

"Well, would you prefer to endure for longer, then?" Narcissa asked.

"I suppose not," Draco sighed.

~*~

"I've decided I hate dinner parties," Harry announced, engaged in a game of Exploding Snap with Draco.

"Don't we all?" Draco replied.

"True," Harry agreed. "They're terrible, really."

"Oh, absolutely. SNAP! I win, and I'm going to bed," Draco cried.

Harry sighed. "I hate it when you win."

"Don't worry, I love it enough for both of us," he replied, beaming.

Harry stuck out his tongue.

"Sleep well, Draco. Merry Christmas," he said nonetheless.

"You too, Harry. Sweet dreams."

Harry smiled, took off his clothes and fell into bed, falling fast asleep rapidly.