Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31213 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
18. Return Owls
Draco Malfoy was sitting in his own study. He was officially reading, but mostly trying to avoid thinking about Harry. It was a week since he'd had him in his arms, and Harry had kissed him at the end of his evidence at Lucius's trial; and then nothing. Draco wanted to believe that Harry still wanted him, that they would still get on; but he was not one of Nature's optimists and he was finding it very hard to maintain a positive attitude without positive reinforcement.
Simply put, he was worried. Worried that his father had ruined things for them. Worried that Harry would interpret the gap as rejection. And worried that he had no idea what to do about it, how he could fix things. It was eating him up. Even the Potions book he was reading was proving a poor distraction; and that was saying something, given his love for the subject.
In the midst of his melancholy came the familiar pop of a house-elf apparating.
"Yes, Dippy?" he asked lazily, as she appeared in front of him. He had not summoned her, so he reasoned that one of his parents must have sent her with a message.
"Dippy is coming to tell Master Draco that we's is having visitors," she said, looking slightly abashed. Draco suddenly realized that she hadn't said she'd been sent; had she come entirely on her own initiative?
"I see," he said, not sure how he felt about that idea. House-elves rarely showed initiative, and it wasn't generally encouraged. "And who might these visitors be?"
"Mister Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, sir. They is arriving in the Master's study!" Dippy said, in a very high-pitched and excited voice.
Draco choked a little. He had never dared enter his father's study without an explicit invitation; it was his father's sanctus sanctorum, his very private retreat. To have entered it directly through the Floo showed amazing courage. Or complete ignorance. Or, most likely, a touch of both.
But at least he could understand both why the house-elf had to tell someone, and why she thought he should know. He could forgive her that. She was standing there, looking a bit afraid; perhaps she had realized that she was out of line. She did have that look they got before they started punishing themselves; he didn't want that.
There was one certain way to stop it; it was a little early for morning tea, but that wouldn't matter.
"Thank you, Dippy," he said. "I'm a bit thirsty; could you get me a cup of tea?"
Dippy's eyes went large and round with delight at being asked to serve. "Of course Master Draco! Is young Master wanting some cakes as well?"
Draco laughed. His sweet tooth was notorious. "That would be lovely," he said, and Dippy apparated away happily.
Draco sat for a bit and thought about what had just happened. He actually had not wanted Dippy to punish herself. Before, it had been because he had known that Harry wouldn't have wanted it; now, it was his own want. What was happening to him? Was he becoming more like Harry?
Whatever it was, he decided, he wasn't going to add it to his worries. There simply was no point in trying to work out what was the Debt and what was his own wishes. He was not concerned, really: he trusted Harry. Harry and he getting together might have a compulsion at the base; but even if so, whatever their relationship became, it would still be the best thing that had ever happened to him.
A tea-tray appeared on his desk, with the usual cup, pot, milk-jug, and bowl full of cubes of sugar; next to it was a plate piled high with cupcakes, beautifully iced. There were so many that, what with the potions book he was reading and making notes on, it was nearly an hour later before he had managed to finish them all …

"What do you mean by it?" Hermione demanded, for what must have been the tenth time.
Lucius was getting a headache. He wasn't used to having to deal with people like this any more. They had invaded his study and demanded answers, and somehow he couldn't just throw them out. It wasn't just politeness – after all, politeness demanded that you didn't just Floo into a man's house and demand answers from him – no, it had something to do with the Debt, he was sure of it. These were Potter's friends; they had some claim to speak for him, and that was enough to ensure that Lucius could not hurt them, or even invite them to leave. He hated it; he had always hated feeling powerless. He had thought the Dark Lord would make an end to that; how wrong he had been! The truth was, he had been far more powerless when the man was in this house than he was now. The only reason it hadn't rankled then was because of the stark terror he felt with Voldemort there. Hermione's intellect and fierce determination might intimidate him, but she would never terrify him. She just didn't do terror, that was obvious.
Still, the question, the whole issue, hung in the air between them. He had warned Potter off, it was undeniable. What had he meant by it?
"You must understand, at the time," he answered, finally deciding to give a considered answer, "I was very afraid, Miss Granger."
"Yeah, right," Weasley interjected. "Harry had just saved your miserable arse from Azkaban, I can see why you'd be afraid of him."
Lucius kept his temper. With difficulty. "That's rather the point," he replied, putting on the patient-parent-to-stupid-child voice that fathers around the world know only too well. "To you, he's a friend, you understand him. But to me, I saw a boy who had got me into Azkaban who had become a man who destroyed the careful, long-laid plans of a master Wizard and wrapped the Wizengamot around his little finger. A man who holds a Debt over me that could destroy this family, make slaves of both Draco and myself. How could I trust him? It's not that I wasn't grateful to him – and to you," he added, turning to Hermione, "for keeping me out of Azkaban – I was just afraid that the price would be too high …"
Hermione looked thoughtful. "OK, I can understand that," she responded, her voice becoming calmer. "Hang on, you said you 'were afraid'. Has that changed?"
Lucius thought for a minute, seeking the best words to help them understand. At least she had stopped hectoring him; that made thinking much easier.
"Yes, I think it might have, a little. Draco is convinced that we can trust Mr Potter. I'm not sure, still, but if Draco does then that gives me just a little hope that somehow we might be able to make the Debt work."
"Work for you, you mean?" Ron asked, scornfully.
Lucius winced. He had said that badly; he deserved to be misunderstood. "I don't think there's any such thing any more, Mr. Weasley," he answered, his voice grave. "There's no way anything can 'work for me' as you put it, without 'working for Harry', as I'm sure you'd say. The Debt will make sure of that."
"He's right, Ron," Hermione broke in, sensing that Ron was going to argue the point. "It has to work for everyone. Isn't that what Harry's been arguing for all along? That we stop this 'them' and 'us' thing and work out a solution that means everyone is looked after?"
If anyone else had said this but Potter or his friends, Lucius would have scowled. But he had seen the man at close quarters. He really believed this rhetoric; and more, somehow he managed to take it from unrealistic trite platitude to a working manifesto. He had convinced the Wizengamot to let them off; no-one else could have stopped them getting Kissed after that Prophet headline, Lucius was sure of it.
He made a decision. Now was not the time for caution. They needed to know everything; it was the only way they were going to be able to work together. Because he knew now he had to promote that: it was what Potter wanted, and he was too close to him still to avoid the pull of the Debt.
"There are some other books I didn't show you last time," he confessed. "Would you like to take a look at them?"
Would Hermione Granger like to look at old books? That was one of Nature's rhetorical questions, really …

Dippy reappeared in Draco's study. "Would Master Draco be liking more tea?"
Draco cast a quick Tempus and discovered it was indeed morning tea time.
"Yes, that would be satisfactory," he answered. It occurred to him that he hadn't heard any more about Weasley and Granger. "Are our visitors still here?"
"Yes, Master Draco," the elf replied. "They is all being in the Library with Master Lucius now."
The Library? He must be showing them the other books, Draco thought. His father was definitely coming to terms with the Debt, then. It was a bit strange, given how much effort he'd been through to make sure they hadn't learnt anything much about the dark magic involved when they'd been here two weeks ago; but a lot had happened in that fortnight! He wondered if he should go and see what they were up to.
Just then there was a knock at the window. Dippy opened it, and a tiny owl flew in, holding an envelope nearly as big as it was. Draco was taken aback for a moment, then it seemed to him he had seen the owl before … But where?
Then he placed it: he'd seen it delivering mail at Hogwarts. It was Weasley's owl. They called it 'Pig', he remembered. Trust the Weasleys to find the stupidest possible name for an owl. But if this was Weasley's owl, and Weasley was here … it must have been sent by Harry.
Harry had owled him! His heart leapt, and he reached out and managed to grab the stupid bird, which was fluttering about in great agitation. He removed the envelope, with some difficulty; most owls had the sense to be still when you took the letter, but not this one.
"Dippy, could you find some treats for this owl, please?" he asked. Dippy nodded, and disapparated as Draco opened the letter.
Dear Draco, he read. His heart started beating faster. He'd never dreamt that that silly word 'Dear' starting a letter, or the use of the first name with it, could actually mean anything to anyone; but if Harry was pushing him away, he would have started 'Malfoy', surely.
Draco was a bit annoyed with himself. Just two words, and he was coming over all emotional. He forced himself to calm down, and read the letter in its entirity.

Dear Draco
I hope you are well.
I write to ask a favour of you.
I am living in my house, Grimmauld Place. At the moment, Ron and Hermione are with me, but they are going to Australia on Sunday for four weeks, and I would be grateful for some company, at least for some of the time while they are away. Also, the house needs quite a lot of work, and I think you might be able to help me, as you no doubt have experience with repairs at the Manor.
Your father told me not to fraternize with you, but I can't stop thinking about how happy I am when I am with you. Please write by reply and let me know your thoughts.
Hoping to hear from you very soon
Harry

Draco could hardly keep the tears from his eyes as he dashed off a reply and then ran to the library.

Harry was obviously distracted, and Kreacher didn't like it. "Would Master Harry be liking more tea?" he asked, hoping to get his master into a better mood.
"What? Oh, sorry, Kreacher, no, if I have any more tea I'll be going to the loo every half hour."
"Very good Master Harry. Would Master Harry be wanting anything special for dinner?"
"Oh not really; though I am hoping we will have a guest. I would love a treacle tart, though, if it's not too much trouble."
"Kreacher is always delighted to make Master Harry's favourite for him. Master Harry is always so kind to Kreacher!"
Harry was saved from his embarrassment by a knock at the window. With excitement, and some trepidation, he let Pigwidgeon in. The little owl looked exhausted, so once he had retrieved the message, he turned to Kreacher and asked him if they had anything to feed the owl.
"Of course, Master Harry!" the elf said, happily, and popped away.
Harry sat in his chair and opened the envelope. He felt butterflies in his stomach, just like he had when asking Cho to the Ball. This is stupid, he said, and pulled out the letter as Kreacher popped back with food for Pig.
The reply was very short. But, he decided once he had read it, it didn't need to be any longer.

Harry,
I will come as soon as I can. I will stay as long as you want me.
Draco.

Harry smiled. The only obstacle, the only thing that could have stopped him, had been overcome. He picked up the book from the floor, shrank it so it would fit in his pocket, put it there, and headed for the Floo. Kreacher, hearing him get up, looked over at his master as he stepped into the Floo, said "Malfoy Manor!" in a happier voice than the elf had heard for days, and disappeared, leaving the letter on the side table that had been at his elbow.
Kreacher read it, and a smile came to his lips. Draco! Narcissa Black's son! A son of the Blacks was coming back to Grimmauld Place! He went to prepare the bedroom opposite Master Harry's.

Draco found them in the library, looking very much like they had two weeks ago: Hermione and his father pulling out old books, discussing fine points of detail, and Ron sitting at the chess table in the alcove, looking bored. He cast a Notice-me-not charm on himself and quietly sidled over to the red-head, and sat opposite him before he had been seen.
"Would you like a game?" he asked softly, dropping the charm.
Ron, a little startled, looked at him, his face blank. Then, after a moment that seemed to Draco to last for hours, his face relaxed.
"Yeah," he said, "I would like that."

Narcissa was sitting at her desk when the Floo came to life, with the familiar sound of someone coming in through it. She looked up and saw Harry coming out, wiping a bit of soot off himself. She made a mental note to have the chimneys seen to, and the Floo connection itself. It would not do to have visitors to Malfoy Manor covered in soot!
"Harry!" she said, warmly. "It's been too long since we've seen you."
"Oh," he said, surprised; he'd rather forgotten that of course the Malfoys were here, and the room would probably be used. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have barged in on you like this."
Narcissa looked at him, patient but a little pained. "Harry, my husband has told you to come when you like, do you think he didn't mean it?"
"Well, given what he said to me last Thursday, I have wondered …"
Ah, Narcissa thought. Lucius still hadn't told her exactly what had been said; but he did now seem to have come to terms with the situation rather better. "And what was it he said?" she enquired.
Harry looked at her for a moment. If Lucius hasn't told her, should I? He wondered. But then his new-found confidence came back again. Though she herself was not bound by it, Narcissa was affected by the Debt as much as Draco and Lucius; she deserved to know where things stood.
"He asked me not to 'continue to fraternize' with Draco," he said, baldly.
"I see," said Narcissa, in an icy tone that boded no good for her husband. "And you have decided to ignore this request?"
"Let's say that I've realized it is negotiable," Harry answered.
Narcissa looked at him. Lucius had explained something of the Debt to her and she suddenly understood: Harry now knew as well. Using words like 'negotiable' was entirely unnecessary; he could, if he want to, simply insist.
She bowed her head to him. "You are very kind, Harry."
Harry had no idea how to reply to this. Fortunately, he didn't have to; Narcissa looked him in the eye again, and said, as she led him out of her study, "I believe the others are in the library. Shall we join them?"

"What a happy gathering!" Narcissa announced as she entered the library, just ahead of Harry. Then she addressed Hermione and Ron: "I do hope you will stay for lunch?"
As they considered this turn of events, Harry walked over to the Malfoy patriarch.
"Lucius," he said in salute, extending his hand.
Lucius put his lips together, but he knew he couldn't really fight. Harry looked at him for a long minute. A mutual understanding flashed between their eyes, as Lucius suddenly realized: Harry knew. He became very tense as he shook the outstretched hand.
"What are your plans?" he asked. If it had been Voldemort, he knew, he would have asked 'what are your orders, Master?' instead. The Debt, and Potter himself, at least allowed him the dignity of pretending to agree with whatever was suggested, instead of acknowledging that he had no choice in the matter.
"I know what you said when last we met," Harry began, "but Ron and Hermione are going away and I was rather hoping Draco would come and stay with me."
Lucius let out his breath. It wasn't a command; Harry was taking care not to use force.
"And for me?" he asked.
"As you please, of course. I shall leave you be."
Lucius stared at Harry, taking in exactly what the words meant. Harry was giving him as much freedom as he possibly could. He bowed his head slightly to the younger man. "You are very gracious, Mr. Potter. Thank you."
"Please, Lucius, call me Harry."
"Very well, Harry," Lucius replied. He wondered if the man realized he had given an order, leaving Lucius little choice; but it was kindly meant, he could see that. There was no point in worrying any more, in trying to fight it. Potter – Harry, he had to call him now, even in his thoughts, it seemed – Harry knew about the Debt and what it meant for them; they just had to get on with life. If this exchange was any indication, Draco was right: Harry was trustworthy, and things really were going to be a whole lot better than they might have been had Voldemort won.
On his part, Draco was perturbed. He had committed himself in the owl to Harry; on the other hand, it had always been assumed that his father, as head of the family, had a right to be consulted on matters of family importance, and where the heir lived was definitely one of those.
"So I may go with him?" he asked.
Lucius turned, his eyes filled with a tenderness Draco hadn't seen in them for a long time.
"My son, you are of age; I won't stop you. But tell me this: do you have to go?"
Draco felt the urge to give the correct, Malfoy answer: that a Malfoy goes where he pleases, he doesn't have to answer any man's call. But it wasn't true, and he could see that his father knew it wasn't true.
"Yes, I think perhaps I do," Draco said, looking down to avoid anyone's eyes.
"I see. And do you want to go?"
Draco lifted his eyes to meet his father's. The look of tenderness was still there. He heart fluttered just a little. He went over to Harry and hugged him.
"With all my heart," he answered, so softly that only Lucius and Harry could hear him.
"Then go, with my blessing." Lucius said, just as softly.

Ron and Draco finished up their chess game while the others watched. Harry wasn't a great Wizard chess player and didn't really appreciate the subtleties of the game; but he could tell that they were playing at a very high standard. Draco, as the host, allowed his guest to win; but both players knew he'd done it, so Ron said, "We'll call it a draw, shall we?" Draco did not object.
Lunch was a much friendlier affair than the guests might have expected. Lucius seemed to go out of his way to put them at ease, and there was more laughter round the table than Draco could remember since … well, ever, if he was honest.
Once they had finished, and were filling any empty corners from the cheese board, it suddenly occurred to Hermione to wonder something. She turned to Harry.
"Harry," she asked, "why did you come when you did?"
Harry looked around the table and smiled at them all. Yes, they all deserved to hear this.
"Do you remember the book that Lucius lent you?"
"Oh yes," said Hermione, and turned to Lucius, "sorry, I meant to bring it with me, I'll look for it later and give it back to you."
"No matter," said Lucius, waving the thought away. "I know where it is."
"Yes, it's right here," Harry continued, pulling it out of his pocket and enlarging it. "I saw it this morning, just after you left, and picked it up. It was very interesting reading."
"Really?" said Hermione and Lucius together, then Lucius waved at Hermione to indicate that she should continue.
"But there wasn't much in it!" she objected.
"Not in the text, no, but the second appendix was most enlightening."
Hermione looked baffled. "Harry, there wasn't a second appendix; just blank pages at the end."
Harry smiled at her. It wasn't often that he could be the teacher and she the pupil, and he was enjoying the moment.
"Ah, but look," he said, placing the book carefully on the table and opening it at the back. The others crowded round him.
"What are those strange squiggles?" Hermione asked. "They weren't there before."
But Lucius had worked it out. "They're Parseltongue!" he exclaimed.
"Exactly!" Harry said, beaming at him like the Professors did to their star pupil. "The Appendix is written out in Parseltongue in long-hand, and charmed so that only a Parselmouth can make it visible."
"But, Harry, how did you know it was Parseltongue? I mean, you can't tell when you're speaking it, right? So can you tell when you're reading it?"
"No, actually," Harry answered. "I only realized when I'd been reading for half an hour and it struck me that the rest of the book was written in that hard-to-read script with weird spellings, but the Appendix was really straightforward. Of course, that was because I was reading it directly from Parseltongue and interpreting it into modern English."
"Wow," Draco said. "So, you can actually read that gibberish?"
"Oh, yes," said Harry. "And it told me lots of things. Firstly, if the signature is correct, and there's no reason to think it isn't, the book was written by Haussmann, and the Appendix was completed by …"
He paused, to see if they could guess.
"Salazar Slytherin?" Lucius asked. "There was a rumour he'd written the book, but I ignored it." He got some strange looks for saying this, so he explained, "every pureblood library has books supposedly written by the founders; but I tend to discount them. If every book that was claimed to have been written by Slytherin actually was, he wouldn't have had time to do anything else but write books!"
"Slytherin it was," Harry admitted. "This one, at least, would seem to be the genuine article. And it makes clear exactly who Haussmann was."
Hermione was getting a bit annoyed at all this leading and hinting; they weren't at school any more! So she asked, a little petulantly, "And who was he?"
"Hermione Granger, I am surprised at you," said Harry, in mock indignation. Hermione looked very confused at this. "You, of all people," he continued, "should know better than to assume the book was written by a man."
"Haussmann was a woman?" Ron asked.
"Yes! She was Slytherin's mother," Harry explained. "That's how he knew so much about the Shield. His father Salazin had been subject to a Magic-Binding Curse, and she managed to lift it. So of course, there was a Debt of Magical Emancipation between them. Salazar explains all about the debt at length. Because of it, he tells us, his father could never lie to his mother till his dying day. And he had to protect her from any threat. She was unmarried when she lifted the curse, and desired to marry him. As Salazar puts it, his father said it was 'by most happy chance that I wanted to do the very thing that I must do by her command; my desire and my duty pulling strongly in double-harness together'."
"So this is how you knew Lucius's – ah – request was – ah – 'negotiable' as you put it?"
Narcissa looked straight at her husband as she said 'request' and Lucius looked a bit shamefaced as he realized that Harry must have told her what he had said after the trial.
"Negotiable?" he asked. "You could simply command me to let you see him."
"I could," said Harry, "but I'm not going to." Lucius looked like he didn't believe it, so Harry went on, "I need you to understand this. I don't want to be in command. I don't want to be another Dark Lord. The Debt is there, it constrains all three of us, but I won't let it rule our lives."
Lucius looked at him, really looked. He had suspected as much in the library, but Harry saying it out loud brought a whole new respect for this young man, mature beyond his years. "Thank you," he said, heart-felt.
"You're welcome," said Harry, a little embarrassed. "Anyway, Salazin Slytherin and Haussmann were married. When Salazar was two years old, his father's attackers came upon the family at night. The three of them were attacked again while in bed, and the shield came into being then."
"What happened?" Ron asked.
"It was rather like the scene at the Memorial," Harry answered. "The Shield flared up, a white, green and gold barrier, and the curses bounced off it and went back to the attackers. Apparently, they didn't survive them."
"How horrible for a two-year-old to witness!" exclaimed Narcissa.
"Oh, he says he was really pleased that these evil people got what was coming to them," said Harry. "He was a strange child, apparently. Anyway, it also says that, while it had been known for a long time even then that a Shield might be formed, it had always been a one-shot thing, so no-one had really studied it much. But this was different: later on, if anyone ever attacked his parents, it would flare up again. He says … Hang on, I'll read this bit," and Harry scanned the book for the right place, "here it is: the Shield has proved to be endurant in my parents' case. They cannot be attacked with impunity while they are together; and this serves them well, as those who hate us either peris in attacking us or back away and leave us alone. We believe the Shield endures because it was fixed by some mordant, most likely my presence. They were protecting not just each other, but me as well; and the three-stranded cord of protection wove together in some way that two will not."
"But that won't do to explain the Shield being endurant for us," Draco objected. "Or what this 'mordant' might be."
"No," Harry answered. "We'll have to puzzle that out later. Meanwhile, I would like to get home, if you don't mind. I promised Professor McGonagall I would help at Hogwarts whenever I could, so I'd like to get Draco settled and go over if I can."
"Do you think I could help, too?" Draco asked, rather tentatively, and Harry knew he really meant: 'do you think they would accept a Death Eater?'
"I'll ask," he promised. "I'll tell them I'll keep an eye on you."
"You may have to do that anyway," Lucius pointed out. "Draco can't go anywhere without Ministry permission, it's part of the probation. And he doesn't have a wand"
"Damn – sorry, Narcissa," said Harry, but she waved away the apology. If Harry thought that was cursing, he was going to have his eyes opened with Draco around, she thought to herself with some amusement. "I had forgotten about that."
"You can always send an owl to the Minister from here," Lucius pointed out. "Then if he gives permission, Draco can Floo over to Grimmauld Place."
"Are you sure you're all right about this?" Harry asked. He was taking their son away from them, after all.
"Harry, quite apart from the fact that you can order me to, I've seen how Draco is about you now; you are happy together, and I think he's right: you are not Lord Voldemort; as I said before, he goes with my blessing." Lucius replied. "Now, come to my study and we'll get that owl away."

Harry sent off an owl to Kingsley, asking if Draco could Floo to and stay at Grimmauld Place, and if there was any way for him to help with the Hogwarts restoration. Hermione and Ron told Harry they would stay at the Manor to await Kingsley's reply, so he was free to go to Hogwarts for the afternoon to help out, as he had promised.
It is certainly true in politics that it's not what you know, it's who you know. And sometimes, who knows you. When it came, the reply was not the permission they had hoped for from the Minister; rather, they received a note sealed with the Great Wizengamot Seal and signed by Elphias Doge as Chief Warlock, stating that if Harry wanted to take over responsibility for Draco before term started, that would be quite all right; in which case, Draco's probation now really boiled down to, 'no apparition, but otherwise, whatever Harry says, goes'. Accordingly, he was free to travel to and live at Grimmauld Place until term started.
So Draco packed the clothes and books he wanted to take, Narcissa packed a large hamper of goodies for them to share, and Lucius found half a case of elf-wine for Harry. Just before they left, the mention of 'elf-wine' suggested to Hermione that she should tell Draco about Harry's house-elf; he could be difficult to work with after all, so she stressed the need for kindness and understanding.
"Of course," said Draco, with earnestness in his voice. He knew all about Hermione's efforts in S.P.E.W., after all, and he didn't want to get on the wrong side of her. And he was grateful for the forewarning; he was used to house-elves around the Manor, but strange ones could still spook him.
As Draco couldn't apparate, the three of them Flooed back to Grimmauld Place. "Kreacher!" Hermione called as she came out of the Floo, after the other two.
The house-elf appeared with the usual pop. "Yes, Mistress Granger? How can Kreacher be helping?"
Kreacher? Draco thought. She didn't say it was him! He's still alive?
"Oh, Kreacher, this is Draco Malfoy." Hermione replied. "He will be staying here for a while. Um, is there a room he could have?"
"Kreacher is already knowing about Master Draco being here," Kreacher replied. "Master Draco is Mistress Cissa's son, and has been here before. Kreacher is very happy to be having another son of the Black House staying here," he continued, with a low bow to Draco.
Draco smiled. Kreacher wasn't going to be any trouble at all.
"Thank you, Kreacher," he replied, with the slight bow that befitted a guest acknowledging his host's servant's welcome when the host is absent. "I am delighted to be here, and to learn that you are well. I do remember you from my previous visits; are your Spotted Dicks as amazing as ever?"
Kreacher looked delighted at such blatant flattery. "Master Draco will have to be deciding for himself!"
"And don't think you're getting them all to yourself, Malfoy!" Ron interjected.
"Master Draco is having the room opposite Master Harry," Kreacher continued.
With that, the elf easily levitated Draco's trunk, and showed him up to his room.

In the event, Draco decided that Kreacher's cooking was every bit as good as he remembered it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have set up a thread for replies at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/56042-review-replies-for-returning-to-sanity/ . I will generally try to reply to posts before posting a new chapter.
- 17
- 18
- 19
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Returning to Sanity