My Obsession

Draco was disappointed, to say the least, when Potter didn't even seem to notice that his guardians were late. He did, in fact, say goodbye to the Weasel runts and go about gathering his trunk and packages as if this were normal. He didn't even question that there wasn't anyone at the gate waiting for him - or that he was being followed.

After shoving a houself after his baggage, the Malfoy heir was more than content enough to follow the Boy-Who-Lived out into the main boarding area of King's Cross - and then outside the boarding area, to where the muggles parked their horseless-carriages (that made horrid noise, and weren't even carriages at all, really. What had that teacher called them? Ao-to-mo-bi-les, or something like that). There he settled himself on a park bench, still not seeming concerned at all, and waited.

Draco growled under his breath - this wasn't turning out to be the rescue he had thought it would be at all. He'd planned to have a docile, whining, upset Raven to comfort, not this strangely calm and relaxed rival.

But Draco was a Slytherin still, and decided to make the most of what he was given. "What are you doing all the way out here, Potter?" he demanded, keeping his voice slightly irritated and bored - not an easy feat, but one that he had practiced enough to know he could pull off at the drop of a hat.

Green eyes flickered up to take in the speaker as Harry stared out into the parking lot, his overlarge shirt threatening to slip off one shoulder in the heat of the day. Discreetly, Draco settled his clothes more firmly about him - it was hot out in the muggle sun, it couldn't be doing anything good for his skin.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Potter answered, voice edgy as his eyes swept the parking lot almost in a panic. "I'm waiting for my relatives, so bugger off."

If it wasn't unbefitting of a Malfoy, Draco would have huffed in indignation and left him sitting there waiting - but seeing as how he was a Malfoy, and not only were huffs of indignation forbidden (rule number five hundred and sixty four, if you didn't count the rule about not mixing with Veelas; Draco's great-great-uncle Jeremiah had broken that rule several centuries ago), but it was also one of those many unspoken rules to never to leave a guest unproperly attended.

And Raven was a guest, even if they hadn't arrived at the manor yet.

"Well then, it might please you to know that they aren't coming. So you can stop waiting now."

Potter snorted - actually snorted - and Draco did his best not to sneer in return. He had to get Potter back to the mansion before he could begin his reformation, starting it out here on the streets would cause nothing but trouble. "Sure, Malfoy. I suppose the next thing you'll be telling me is that the Dark Lord is trying to gain custody of me in the courts."

"That's not a bad idea, actually. I'll be sure to mention it to him the next time we meet."

To his credit, Potter didn't jump up and start hexing at the voice that addressed him, although he did stiffen up readily enough, and he had his hand on his wand. It was awkward enough without him being on the defensive - this could make things difficult.

Then again, Draco's father had a way of making things better that Draco absolutely approved of, despite his cold demeanor in public.

"Mister Malfoy," Potter greeted, finally. He was standing. "I hope you'll excuse me, but I feel the need to be somewhere else."

"Well, your manners have certainly improved, if nothing else," Lucius commented, "but I'm afraid that I can't let you leave. You see, my son has invited you over as a guest for the summer, and seeing as your guardians have approved of it, I can't help but feel somewhat responsible for your well-being. We can't have the savior of the wizarding world running about all on his lonesome, now, can we?"

Draco knew that glare - it was the glare Potter had when he was out in the middle of a tussle in the hallways and about to start cursing people; it was the glare he had when he needed to finish an essay and the mudblood wouldn't spare the time to finish it, nor her own sub-par paper to copy. Potter was angry, and his wand was out.

"I don't believe you," he sneered, stepping backwards.

"Pity. I'd put that wand away, if I were you, Mister Potter - wouldn't want you being reported for under-age magic, now, would we?" The older man was calm, and while his face showed that he was rather displeased with the situation, he was nothing if not polite and composed. "Reggs, take Mister Potter's belongings back to the main guest room, would you? And tell my wife that we should be along in time for supper, if Mister Potter cooperates."

There was a brief flash at his feet, and with a small 'pop', a houself appeared. "Of course, masters," he said. "Reggs's be doing as yous is saying."

Potter didn't move.

"Come now, Mister Potter. Put that wand away before I have to confiscate it, and we'll floo to the Manor. You'll be flooing with Draco, of course - we wouldn't want anything unfortunate to happen to you on the way."

It wasn't something Potter had expected - the look on his face gave his surprise and astonishment away. After that it was a simple matter to push him along after the elder Malfoy, and Draco took great pleasure in doing it.

After all, how many Slytherins could brag that they got to push around Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Didn't-Die, and didn't get themselves hexed silly?

-------------------------------------------break.

Potter was uncomfortable the moment he stepped into the manor. His shoulders hunched inward, and his head lowered. He went out of his way not to touch anything.

If Draco didn't know better, he'd have thought that the boy was trying to hide in those horrid clothes of his - of which, the neckline had finally slipped off of one shoulder while flooing, so that he looked rather like a child trying on his father's old cast-offs, although James Potter would have never worn something so undignified.

"Draco, darling!" his mother called, rushing into the room. "You're finally back!"

The blonde boy blushed as his mother squeezed him to her chest, kissing his cheeks and ruffling his perfectly combed hair out of its style. "I've missed you so much," she said as she finally released him, holding him back to look at him fully. "Have you gotten taller? You've been eating enough, right? No one causing you trouble at school?"

"I'm fine, mother," Draco said, voice slightly pained. "And we have a guest, remember?"

Narcissa took a moment to take in the dark-haired boy behind her son before releasing the blonde and walking over to his classmate. "Well, you must be Harry Potter," she greeted.

"Yes," Harry greeted, although he didn't sound happy. His voice was too strained, and he was leaning away from the tall woman before him.

"I see." Narcissa paused, looking him over from head to toe, and then seemed to come to a conclusion. "Well, those muggle robes won't due for this house. I understand that you were caught a bit unprepared, but I'm sure Draco would be glad to show you around. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask - I'm sure we'll be more than able to do what is needed. I'll have the houselves fix up an extra serving for you - you're much too thin for a wizard, and it looks that you haven't hit your growth spurt yet," Harry winced as Narcissa spoke, as if she'd found a sore spot. "But I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"No need," Harry cut in before she could continue. "I'm not hungry."

"Nonsense, dear - no one goes hungry here, and I know for a fact that you only get a light lunch before they put on that train. Awful tradition, if I do say so myself; it would be much easier to simply take the students to Hogsmeade - but tradition is tradition, I suppose. Ah, Lucius dear," she greeted as her husband apparated in the sitting room. "How were things at the station? No trouble, I expect?"

"Of course not," Lucius answered, accepting Narcissa's twin kisses to his cheeks. "Everything went as smoothly as planned. Is supper ready? I expect Draco and Mister Potter are hungry."

"The houselves were setting the table when last I left - Harry, Draco, won't you join us?"

Potter looked as if he were going to object - his mouth was even open to form the words - but then he grit his teeth and looked away. One could almost see him considering his options - not that he had any.

Finally, he gave a tight nod, and Draco led the way towards the dining room, throwing as many barbs and insults towards the other boy as he could without being outright rude.

After all, he wanted Potter to feel right at home.

-----------------------------------------------break.

Dinner was a little more hearty than usual, and Draco had his mother to thank for it. She had always felt the need to have something of a small feast when her only child returned from a semester at school, and this was no exception. The addition of another boy only added to the reasons why she should celebrate, and the blonde was more than happy to indulge in the little cakes and pastries that followed the meal, along with the puddings and the ice-cold cream.

Potter, however, seemed to be more playing with his food than eating it.

"We're not going to poison you, you know," Draco told him, taking another bite of his French Silk Pie and savoring the smooth, fluffy chocolate. "And the food is delicious."

Potter pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry."

Draco shrugged, and pulled the discarded desert towards himself. "More for me, then."

His father looked slightly disapproving, but no one else seemed to mind the additional desert beside his - especially not when the houselves provided yet another small plate of pie for Raven when his own was stolen.

"Thank you," Harry told the small creature at his side.

The elf nearly wept from the offhand comment. "It was Reggs's pleasure, sirs," it said - and Harry realized then that it was the same houself that had taken his bags at the station, and that said houself was a 'he', wearing a ripped pillowcase around his waist and shoulders like a toga costume. "Is there something else sirs be wanting? Reggs was noticing that sirs was not eating." The small being hung his head as if that were something to be ashamed of, but Potter was already shaking his head.

"No thank you, Reggs," he said. "I'm afraid I just don't have much of an appetite tonight."

"If sirs be wanting somethings later, Reggs would be more than happy to fetch it from the kitchens for him, with the masters permission," Reggs said, bowing to Lucius as he did.

"Of course," Lucius said, off-hand, and went back to his conversation with Narcissa. Draco couldn't help but notice that both of them seemed distracted though - and focused on the conversation between the boy and the small houself.

"I don't know that I will be, but thank you for the offer," Potter answered, smiling down at the thing.

Reggs was nodding already. "Of course, sirs - you just be calling Reggs's name, sirs, and I'll come sees what you needs. Forgive Reggs for interrupting your meals, sirs - enjoy sirs deserts, if it pleases sirs." With another small 'pop', the houself left.

Draco thought it was interesting to note that, while he didn't touch anything else, Raven did finish off the extra slice of pie that the creature had brought him.