Drawings

She says she has no time

"Mummy! Mummy!"

Little Draco Malfoy ran down the corridor to his mother, holding two pieces of parchment in his hands.

"Mummy, look what I made!"

He held out the parchments and tugged at his mother's robes.

"Look, Mummy! I drew pictures for you. See. That's you and you're holding me and Mr. Snicklefritz. See, he looks so real. I even got his wings right, Mummy."

He pointed at the other piece of parchment.

"And look, Mummy! That's me and that's Harry Potter. See, he even has a scar, like Daddy says. And see, he's holding my hand, because we're going to be best friends. Just like you and Daddy."

"That's nice, dear," his mother said, waving a hand dismissively.

"No, Mummy!" Draco whined as only six year olds can. "You have to look."

He tugged on her robes harder and Narcissa turned to him with an angry look on her face.

"Draco! I don't have time for you right now. I have to meet the decorators. Let go of my robes and go to your room."

Draco let go of her robes. He always felt horrible when she used that cold tone, as if he wasn't important to her. Draco let the pieces of parchment flutter to the floor as his mother quickly walked down the hall. He sniffled and ran the other way, back to his room.

With a crack, a house elf wearing a soiled pillowcase appeared in the deserted corridor. He looked down at the pictures and picked them up. He studied them for a moment and disappeared again.

Think about the lonely people

"What have you got there, Harry?"

Harry turned to Mrs. Foster, who looked cross. He held out the piece of paper with the pride all six year olds have of things they've made themselves.

"It's a picture!" he said with pride.

Mrs. Foster frowned. "I can see that. What does it mean?"

Harry put the piece of paper on the table in front of him and pointed at it seriously.

"That's me. You can tell because of my hair and glasses and my scar. See?"

Mrs. Foster nodded. "I do see. Who is that?" She pointed at the other little stick figure with the light coloured hair.

"That's the man I'm going to marry. See, we're holding hands. He's different from me because his hair is like sunshine."

Mrs. Foster frowned. "That's a horrible thing to think, Harry."

"Why?" Harry scrunched up his face in confusion.

"You can't marry a boy. It's disgusting and wrong," Mrs. Foster said sternly.

Harry looked puzzled. "But there are two men down the street from my house who live together. They told me they loved each other, so that means they're married."

"They are bad people, Harry. They are doing an evil thing by living together. You shouldn't talk to people who are like that. Never speak of this sort of disgusting behaviour again in my classroom."

Harry trembled a bit and nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Foster."

He wished she hadn't told him not to talk to them again. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Conway were always nice to him.

Harry took the picture and then looked at Mrs. Foster. She had walked over to the other side of the room and was telling off Suzy Parker. Quickly, so that Mrs. Foster wouldn't see, Harry folded up the picture and put it in his pocket.

On the way home, he waved at Mr. Hurst and Mr. Conway from across the street, but he didn't stop to talk. When he got back to number four Privet Drive, he went straight to his cupboard and put the picture under his pillow. It couldn't hurt to just keep the picture.

My heart opens up to you

Harry tickled the pear and opened the door to the kitchens, then gestured for his boyfriend to go in first.

As soon as the portrait shut behind them, a familiar squeaky voice sounded beside them.

"Mr. Harry Potter! Mr. Harry Potter! Dobby is very happy to see Harry Potter, sir. What can Dobby get Harry Potter?"

"Some snacks would be great, Dobby," Harry said. "And a Butterbeer for me. What do you want, Draco?"

Dobby's eyes widened. "Master Draco?"

Draco looked down at the house-elf and started. "Dobby? What are you doing here? I thought Father killed you."

Dobby shook his head so hard his ears flapped. "Oh no, Master Draco. The Great Harry Potter tricked old Master Malfoy into freeing Dobby. Dobby works for Professor Dumbledore now. Dobby is getting a Galleon a week to work for Professor Dumbledore, Master Draco."

The corners of Draco's mouth curled upwards slightly as he tried to keep a straight face. "That's very nice. Will you get me a hot chocolate like you used to make?"

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, Master Draco. Dobby is remembering just how Master Draco likes his hot chocolate. Dobby is never forgetting. Master Draco does not have to worry."

Dobby scampered off and Harry reached out for Draco's hand.

"Come on," he said and led Draco to a nearby table.

He sat down beside Draco and smiled, still holding his hand. Other house-elves brought them all sorts of snacks, until they insisted they had enough. They talked softly until Dobby came back to the table with their drinks.

When Dobby saw their joined hands, he gasped. "Master Draco was right!"

Draco turned to Dobby and frowned a bit. "Right about what?"

"Master Draco was right about Harry Potter, sir. Wait right here, Master Draco. Dobby is coming right back."

A moment later, Dobby reappeared with two pieces of parchment.

"Dobby was finding these on the floor at Malfoy Manor a long time ago, sir. Master Draco was leaving them on the floor, so Dobby was taking them to Dobby's sleeping space. Dobby is keeping them safe ever since."

Draco stared in awe at the clumsily drawn pictures. A tall blond woman holding a small blond boy and a little dragon was drawn on one sheet. On the other sheet was a picture of a blond boy holding hands with a dark haired boy, who had a scar on his forehead.

"I'd forgotten about these," Draco said.

Dobby nodded. "Dobby was thinking Master Draco didn't remember. That's why Dobby was getting them for Master Draco, sir. Master Draco should keep them now that Master Draco has them back. Dobby is leaving now so Master Draco and Harry Potter can eat."

With that, Dobby was gone, leaving Draco and Harry to look at the pictures alone. Harry chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked indignantly.

Harry smiled. "I've got a picture almost like that," he said, pointing to the picture of them. "I drew it when I was small. It's at the bottom of my trunk. It's one of the only things I've got from my childhood." He laughed out loud. "I can't believe we drew the same picture."

Draco smiled softly at Harry, a smile that no one but Harry ever saw.