Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In Tatters and Pieces	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6538 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Author's note: I'm pleasantly surprised by the amount of response I got to the first chapter :)
Thanks to the following reviewers: Jan; djaddict
Warnings: Drama; a bit of angst
Additional disclaimer: Information about the Malfoy family was found on Pottermore and doesn't belong to me either.
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 2
The sound of a screeching voice greeted him when he opened the kitchen door and it took him a brief moment to realise that the screeching wasn't coming from Mrs. Black – though she was definitely awake now, judging by the colourful language rebounding in the hallway – but from a Howler, hovering in front of a bored looking Harry.
"YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! MESSING AROUND WITH A DEATH EATER – WHAT WOULD YOUR PARENTS SAY? SOMEONE OF YOUR STATUS SHOULDN'T BE SPREADING HIS LEGS FOR THAT FILTH! I'M WILLING TO BET THAT THAT CHILD OF YOURS IS HIS, AND YOU'RE TOO MUCH OF A – "
The red envelope burst out into flames and the screeching dimmed into warbled nonsense until even that noise died out and the ashes fluttered to the floor.
"I've been listening to that crap for five minutes already," Harry explained calmly when he saw Draco's bemused look. "I didn't want to figure out how long she'd go on still."
"What brought that on?" Draco asked perplexed and shut the door behind him, cutting off the screaming emitting from Mrs. Black's portrait.
A sigh left the younger man and he nodded at the newspaper lying on the kitchen table. "Apparently a reporter took a picture of us together when we were in that little pub yesterday."
"Ah fuck," Draco sighed, pulling the Morning Prophet closer to him. He hadn't read the newspaper this morning; he had been looking through what must have been a grand living room once before he realised that Harry would be working on the house again today and he had hurried out of the manor to get here on time. His leg had healed nicely from the attack of the chair, but the reminder of that assault had urged him to return here. Who knew what kind of other dangerous curses were tied to innocent looking furniture?
A tad sourly, he studied the picture that took up most of the front page – as the Prophet was wont to do whenever the news concerned Harry. It showed them sitting at a small table in the furthest corner of the small pub as they ate their plates of fish and chips – Harry's choice. There was nothing indiscriminating about the picture; just two blokes eating lunch, but of course because one of them was Harry Potter and the other one suspected of being a Death Eater – never mind that it had become clear he had been a spy during the war – naturally the Wizarding World would jump on it like hungry Manticores.
"I thought it was a completely Muggle establishment," Draco muttered, pushing the paper away again.
"It is, but the reporter might have been a Muggleborn or a Halfblood," Harry sighed and shrugged, running a hand through his wild hair. "It being a Muggle place doesn't mean it's completely devoid of wizards and witches, you know."
"Yes, but I thought it would have been devoid of reporters," Draco growled; his wand vibrating slightly in reaction to his frustration.
Harry waved a hand haphazardly through the air, uttering a soft sigh. "Just ignore it; they'll find something else to talk about soon."
Considering the newspapers were still attempting to find out just who had knocked up Harry Potter, Draco didn't have much faith in that statement.
"Which room do you want to clean up today?" he asked to distract themselves from the article and the Howler. At the rate they were going, there weren't many rooms left to tackle; the house was actually starting to look decent, which was something Draco hadn't thought was possible.
"I figured we could start in the living room, get rid of the dust for starters," Harry answered, tapping his wand idly against the palm of his left hand. "I can't stay for long, though, because I have a check-up in two hours."
Draco's mind blanked out for a moment before his eyes fell on Harry's bulging stomach. "Oh, for the baby? Something in particular they're going to check?"
"Healer Rose is going to try for the second time to discover whether I'm having a boy or a girl," Harry chuckled and his hand caressed his belly lovingly. "Last time the baby was completely turned around and she couldn't get a good look at all."
"Someone joining you?" the blond wizard inquired curiously. Granger nor Weasley still hadn't shown up yet at Grimmauld Place and he wondered whether that had something to do with his presence. It wasn't a secret that they couldn't get along at all, even after working together against the Dark Lord.
"Nope, I'm on my own today," Harry replied lightly. "Hermione figured it's finally safe enough for her parents to get their memories back and she's in Australia now to locate them. Ron went with her. And as you know, Teddy is with Andromeda now, though I'm picking him up when I go home."
Before he could think twice about it, Draco blurted out, "I could accompany you." Directly after that, he groaned and rubbed his forehead. What was wrong with him lately?
His offer was met with a surprised look. "Oh, you don't have to; I'm fine on my own," Harry reassured him, ignoring how Kreacher stalked past him on his way to the cupboards.
Grey eyes narrowed slightly. "Didn't you say you got nearly bowled over by one of your rabid fans last time you were at the hospital?" he questioned suspiciously.
A deep flush decorated the pregnant man's face. "You're exaggerating now," Harry complained, pouting slightly. "She, eh, kind of walked into me, I guess. It was partly my fault anyways; I wasn't paying attention."
"Yeah, no, I'm going with you," Draco said determined, steadfastly ignoring the little voice in the back of his mind questioning his sanity. "If only to prevent you from being attacked by one of your supposed fans."
Arms crossed on top of his belly, Harry scowled at him. "Even if I refuse again, you're just going to follow me anyway, right?"
Draco smirked, tapping his fingers on the table. "Glad you've become smarter."
"Eugh, fine! If you insist!" Harry grumbled and made his way out of the kitchen, muttering darkly.
"Merlin forbid someone takes care of you," Draco sighed, but followed the other one; not trusting him alone in that room.
He was pretty sure he had heard something giggling when he had walked past it and he wasn't going to give it a chance to attack Harry.
Healer Rose was a woman nearing her forties with chestnut brown hair which fell in curls over her shoulders. She was slightly shorter than Draco and pleasantly plump and she regarded the two men with warm, caramel brown eyes when they entered her office. Rising from her chair, she offered them her hand to shake.
"Good afternoon, Mister Potter," she smiled, dipping her head slightly. "It's nice to see you again." She turned questioning eyes towards Draco. "And this is …"
"Draco, my friend. He wanted to come with me," Harry explained and sank down on the chair in front of the Rose's desk; one of his hands resting on top of his belly.
An odd emotion flashed up in her eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared and she gestured for Draco to sit down, reclining back in her own chair. She retrieved a file from one of her drawers and clucked her tongue as she opened it, looking through it quickly.
"So last time you were here, we attempted to find out the sex of your baby, but during that check-up your baby was a bit too stubborn," she chuckled, brushing back a stray curl. "Let's hope we'll find out today, hm? Let me just give you a quick check-up now." She flicked her wand, made out of dark wood, gently at Harry, muttered a spell underneath her breath.
A soft rose glow lit up Harry's stomach and a moment later a piece of parchment appeared out of nowhere in front of Rose, hovering in the air. A quill popped up right next to it and it started filling out the parchment rapidly; the scratching sound of the quill on the paper loud in the otherwise silent room.
As soon as the quill was done writing, the Healer plucked the parchment out of the air and read it attentively. "All right, seems like everything is in order, just like it should be. Your pregnancy is progressing well, Mister Potter. It looks like you completely cleared up the few deficiencies you had in the beginning."
"Deficiencies?" Draco repeated soundlessly, raising his eyebrow, as he chanced a look at Harry, but the other man shook his head; his lips pursed slightly.
Clearly that was a subject he didn't want to talk about.
"So you're twenty-two weeks pregnant now," Rose continued lightly, jotting down some notes in her file. "Let's continue with your - "
A knock on the door interrupted her and she looked up surprised. "Yes?"
The door opened with a soft creak, revealing a greying man. His deep blue eyes roamed across Harry and Draco for a moment before he dismissed them and said in a rough voice, "Apologies, Madeline, but could you give me your thoughts about a diagnosis for just a moment? It won't take long, I promise."
"Well …" Rose looked inquiringly at Harry, who shrugged and smiled.
"I don't mind."
"All right, let me see it," she said and quickly crossed the room, pulling the door close behind her.
Draco's mind was still focusing on one small detail Rose had mentioned just now and he frowned as he went through the mathematics, counting the weeks and going back in time. Shock settled in and he quickly counted again, certain that he was mistaken, but no.
If Harry was twenty-two weeks pregnant, that meant he …
"You were pregnant when you fought the Dark Lord?" he hissed sharply; his fingers curling around the thin arms of his chair.
Harry whipped his head around, clearly taken by surprise at the vehemence audible in the blond's voice. "Wha – yeah, I was, but I didn't find out about the baby until a few months afterwards," he responded softly and furrowed his eyebrows, looking a tad annoyed. "What, did you think I knowingly fought Voldemort while being pregnant? I didn't even know men could get pregnant back then!"
It wouldn't be the first time you did something detrimental to your health, Draco thought sourly. Immediately afterwards he knew he wasn't being fair. While Harry didn't have enough self-preservation, he did care a lot more about other people's lives. He wouldn't have knowingly risked his baby; his self-destructive streak which occasionally rose its ugly head didn't run that deep.
But this still begged the question: with whom had he slept with? It had to have been someone who stayed at Grimmauld Place, because he had barely been allowed to go outside.
"Who did - "
The door opened once more and he shut his mouth, not willing to have this particular discussion with an audience.
"Sorry about that," Rose said brightly, making her way back to her desk. "My colleague just needed a second opinion. Now, are you ready for your check-up?"
"Yes, please," Harry grinned and his eyes shone with anticipation.
"All right, you know the drill by now. Please take place on the examination table and lift your shirt a bit. I'll grab the Barrier Potion," she said and opened one of the cabinets next to the desk, which had been built at hip height.
"You want to look as well?" Harry inquired and there was something like hesitation thrumming through his body as he regarded Draco curiously.
"Why not? I'm already here; might as well," Draco muttered and followed the dark haired wizard to the examination table.
The white paper on it crinkled when the pregnant man sank down on it and he reclined back, pulling his shirt up so that his rounded stomach was bared. There were very faint stretch marks on each side of his stomach, but they were only visible if you held your head in a certain way and Draco presumed he was taking a potion to reduce the severity of the marks.
"It's a bit cold," Rose warned as she rubbed a light greenish jelly like liquid all over Harry's stomach, who shivered a bit, but didn't react otherwise. She rubbed her hands clean on a towel and grabbed her wand, pointing it at Harry's stomach. "Revalo Genum!"
The tip of her wand erupted with a baby blue light which spread out in several thin strands and latched onto Harry's stomach. The blue light covered the belly like a blanket and then one of the strands shot straight up and widened, splitting itself in two. The two new strands waved through the air for a few seconds before they bent and contorted, forming a rectangular shape.
Grey mist filled the shape and swirled around before it stilled and hardened, creating a screen. Another flick of the Healer's wand and white mist filled the screen, drifting aimlessly around until it slowly came together and formed –
The image of a baby, kicking its feet.
"Let me just …" Rose narrowed her eyes slightly and tapped her wand against her hand in the pattern of a star, muttering a spell underneath her breath.
A few seconds later, a strange, deep 'thump-thump' sound filled the room and it took Draco a moment before he realised with a start that he was listening to the baby's heartbeat. A glance at Harry revealed the man staring at the screen with shining eyes and a tender smile playing across his lips as he carefully rubbed two fingers against the left side of his belly.
Swallowing – his mouth felt oddly dry all of a sudden – Draco turned his attention back to the screen, though he couldn't really make out anything. The outline of the baby was perfectly visible and even the movement of the child kicking its legs was clear, but that was all he could discern.
"Your baby's heartbeat is steady and strong," Rose remarked approvingly, nodding to herself. "Let's see if he or she is less stubborn now, hm?" Amusement coloured her eyes as she leant forwards, studying the screen intently.
Harry's baby was slowly shifting around, waving arms and legs around, and Draco thought he could see a faint ripple going through Harry's stomach; his stomach did an odd flip at witnessing that particular motion.
"Aha!" Rose exclaimed and satisfaction was audibly ringing through her voice.
"And?" Harry asked impatiently, scrutinizing the screen intensely.
She grinned and answered, "Well, Mister Potter, it looks like you're expecting a boy!"
"I'm – I'm having a son?" Harry stammered, eyes widening as his hands cupped his stomach, heedless of the potion still smeared on it. "A boy?"
"If I'm not mistaken and I'm nearly a hundred percent sure of this, then yes, you're going to have a son, Mister Potter," she smiled warmly.
Draco started when green eyes suddenly shot to him, glowing almost unnaturally bright. "I'm having a son, Draco!" he said, smiling joyfully.
The blond blinked and shifted his right foot, feeling a bit unbalanced at being subjected to those glittering eyes, gleaming with unshed tears. He cleared his throat and offered a small smile. "Congratulations."
Harry's smile changed, turning oddly wistful, but before Draco could ask what was wrong, the dark haired man had already turned back to Rose, asking for copies of the ultrasound.
And Draco was left wondering whether he had said something wrong.
He was in over his head. Completely and utterly fucked. This is what he got for listening to his bloody conscience: his life turned upside down.
How had this happened? When had this happened?
"Damn it," he sighed and slammed the book he had been idly browsing through shut. Dumping it back on the table where he had initially found it, he strode towards the window, pushing the midnight blue drapes to the side. Streaming rain and a dark overcast sky greeted him when he looked outside. Nothing remained of the warm September sun; October had rolled in with rain and heavy wind, turning the immaculate path leading to the manor into slippery mud.
October had also officially announced the ending of cleaning up Grimmauld Place. They had finished the clean-up assault a week ago; the transformation to a respectable, clean house completed. Kreacher had stopped making a fuss the moment Harry had threatened to bury him far away from Grimmauld Place after his death and had contented himself with darkly muttering and glaring at them whenever they had entered a room he was currently dwelling in.
It had been a week since Draco had last seen Harry and spoken to him and he hadn't realised how much time he had been spending with his ex-school rival, how much he had been enjoying himself with Harry until he found himself floundering around in Malfoy Manor; not even the unexplored rooms managed to grab his attention completely.
The urge to visit Harry was growing with each day and his body thrummed with restless energy. He caught himself trying to come up with a decent excuse to visit the younger man, now that he could no longer rely on helping out with cleaning, and even worse, found himself longing to hear the man talking. More than once already he had even started wondering how the baby was doing, whether Harry was taking good care of himself and the unborn child.
It was disturbing. Completely unexpected.
It made him question when his feelings for the green eyed man had changed and it frustrated him to no end that he couldn't figure out when. Or why he even had fallen in love with the other man.
He grimaced, resting his hands on the high windowsill. Fallen in love … It sounded like something a Gryffindor would say, but it was undeniably the truth.
Somehow, somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with Harry Potter.
Harry Potter, the man who had been his enemy for nearly six years. Who he had wanted as a best friend ever since he had heard about his miraculous victory against the Dark Lord.
The man who was currently expecting a child from Merlin knew who.
Complicated didn't even begin to describe it.
Did Draco have a chance with him? Was it possible that Harry felt the same for him? Would he embarrass himself if he confessed his feelings, if he decided to pursue the younger man?
Did he want to be with someone who was expecting a child whose parentage remained unknown? Was he ready to deal with something as heavy as that?
That last question was the hardest one to solve.
Grey eyes watched amused how the six month old baby, sitting propped up against a pillow, smacked the soft toy blocks between his chubby legs. Each block lit up with a different colour whenever his small hand landed on it and the blond boy cooed, obviously delighted by the results he received.
"Hermione wanted to buy him toy blocks that would spell out words whenever they were touched," Harry spoke from the doorway and Draco craned his neck around.
Harry was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed on top of his bulging stomach; the dark blue sweater did nothing to hide how rounded and big his belly had become so far.
"Granger is far too obsessed with learning," Draco remarked and snorted, shaking his head. It didn't surprise him she would think of something like that, though. That was just the way her brain worked.
Harry snickered. "I told her she could buy those when he's one year old. That seemed to mollify her a bit." He straightened out and crossed the room, sinking down next to Teddy on the dark brown couch. A soft groan escaped him and he rubbed a hand over his belly.
"How are you doing?" Draco questioned, a bit gruffly.
Outside, the sky darkened and a moment later, the soft 'pitter-patter' of raindrops hitting the windows and sliding down the glass filled the room.
A swish of his wand and Harry raised the fire in the hearth a bit higher, letting it illuminate the living room more. The flames spattered harshly, adjusting to being bigger, before they returned to their merrily crackling noise.
"I'm fine," Harry sighed, placing his wand next to him on the couch. His hand was still absentmindedly caressing his stomach. "The baby is becoming a lot more active, though. It's getting harder to sleep throughout the entire night." He smiled when Teddy uttered a soft "Ah, ah" sound before smashing both fists on the blocks.
One block got smacked into the air and landed a few inches away from Draco. The blond man clucked his tongue and bent down to pick the red block up and deposit it back onto the couch. Teddy blinked owlishly before grinning and going back to smacking the hell out of the blocks.
"Do you have a name in mind?" Draco asked, crossing his legs.
Dark hair swished gently as Harry shook his head, grimacing faintly. "No, not yet. I've started thinking about it, but so far I've found nothing good yet," he sighed despondently.
"Well, you still have a few more months," the blond pointed out. "When are you due anyway?"
"Around the tenth of February," Harry answered, snatching another flying block – a green one this time – out of the air before it could land on the floor. "Careful, Teddy," he admonished his godson gently, who merrily smiled toothily and grasped a blue block, waving it through the air.
Deep green eyes turned back to Draco and the owner of them visibly hesitated before he inquired, "Did you – did you manage to visit your father already?"
Draco stiffened, his muscles locking up tightly, before he slowly exhaled, forcing his muscles to relax. "We did," he murmured, staring blankly at the dancing flames. A scoff left him as he recalled their first visit a week ago.
"They're keeping him on the second highest level, because he's apparently more dangerous than Greyback, can you believe that?" he sneered. "They seem to think he's planning an uprising. How he would manage that while being in solitary confinement is anyone's guess. I suppose we should be happy that the Dementors are long gone by now."
"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry said quietly. "I could ask Kingsley whether your father could be moved to a lower level?"
"No, don't bother with it," Draco sighed, rubbing a hand across his chin. "It's fine; it could have gone way worse. We're just going to keep our heads down for now."
Silence descended over them, broken only by Teddy mumbling incomprehensibly to himself as he waved the blocks around or poked them curiously.
Peeking through lowered eyelashes, Draco watched how Harry bent slightly towards Teddy, waving a bright yellow block in front of Teddy's face, catching his attention. Grey eyes studied Harry's face, catching glimpses of the fading scar underneath his too long fringe; the bright green eyes hidden behind spectacles; the warm colour of rose filling his cheeks; wispy, black strands framing his face.
Pale rose lips, looking bitten and worried at.
Instantly, without any warning, desire pooled in his stomach as Draco's mind was filled with an image of him leaning closer to Harry, capturing those rose, chapped lips between his own and letting his tongue soothe the rough edges, before slipping past pearl white teeth and exploring the other one's mouth.
Another burst of warmth spread out in his lower stomach and he gasped silently, flushing; his cheeks feeling like they would burst apart with heat. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and bit down harshly on his lower lip, using the sting to dispel the alluring image before he did something he would regret.
Well, if he had had any doubts about whether he really liked Harry or not, those certainly had been dispelled completely now.
"Draco?" Harry regarded him with furrowed eyebrows.
Licking his lips, Draco sat up straighter; a burst of adrenaline shooting through him. He might as well ask now, right? Just get it over and done with and then he could go on with his life, whatever the answer might be.
"I've got a question," he started, his heart beating madly in his chest as if he was running for his life. "Do you – are you inte- "
The sound of the Floo activating in the other room cut him off abruptly and he froze when a few seconds later, Granger's voice drifted over towards them.
"Harry? Where are you?"
"In the living room, 'Mione," Harry called back, sitting up a bit straighter, casting an apologetic look at Draco.
The blond wizard pressed his lips tightly together and looked away; the brief burst of courage having completely abandoned him now.
Granger entered with four books pressed against her chest and a bright smile, which faded when she caught sight of Draco sitting near the fireplace. She blinked and halted, caught off guard. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were here," she said, brushing a piece of her untamed curls back behind her ear.
He stood up, too antsy, too wind up to remain here any longer. "Doesn't matter," he retorted curtly, snatching his cloak from behind him. "It's time for me to go home anyway."
"Ah, you don't have to go," Harry protested, ignoring Teddy's disgruntled huff when he couldn't snatch his godfather's attention immediately. "Stay; it's almost time for dinner. I could make lasagne," he offered smiling, knowing it was one of Draco's favourite dishes.
Draco forced himself to smirk and shook his head. "As tempting as that offer is, I can't. I promised mother I would help her sorting out the mail we got from other families."
Harry deflated, pursing his lips. "Another time then."
"Another time," Draco agreed. "I'll see you, Harry. Granger," he added after a short pause and left the room before either one of them could say something.
Cursing himself the entire way to his home for not being faster and cursing Granger for interrupting them.
He knew there were reasons why he still didn't like her.
"Still unused rooms to explore?" Mother inquired amused, looking up from the book she was reading. Her blonde hair, curled slightly and falling across her shoulders like water, glinted in the light of the flames dancing in the hearth.
The wind and rain had stopped for now, but the sky remained overcast and it didn't appear as if the weather would get any better.
"Hm," Draco smiled, pausing in the doorway. "Not that many anymore. I think I've found the rooms of Great-aunt Selena, though."
"The one who made it her life goal to trace the entire Malfoy line back to the beginning?" she asked; a hint of interest lurking in her voice.
More like an obsession, he thought, but didn't say it aloud. Instead he nodded. "Yes, that ancestor. Her rooms were completely in the back of the south wing apparently."
"If you're in luck you might still find something interesting," she remarked, turning the page of her book.
"Maybe," he murmured and left his mother to her reading.
On his way to the south wing, he passed several house elves who were dusting off small statues and portraits, cleaning windows and removing the dust out of the carpets. They bowed respectfully as he passed them before returning to their task. The further into the manor he walked, the less house elves he encountered. By now he didn't expect to see any in the unused rooms.
Candles flared to life, illuminating his path, and perhaps it was his imagination, but the light seemed smaller than that of the candles in the areas still used by him and mother. Shaking his head, he turned around the right corner and found himself in front of a white door, of which the colour had lost its shine years ago. The gold of the doorknob looked dull, but the door opened without making a sound, proving that the Oiled Hinge Charm worked for a very long time.
He stepped onto midnight blue carpet with silver specks dotted throughout the material. A thin layer of dust coated everything in the room, including the carpet and the white drapes; some cobwebs hung in the corners of the eggshell coloured ceiling.
Currently Draco was standing in what had been Great-aunt Selena's study. There was a leather couch places right next to the large window, which would overlook the garden if the drapes were pushed back. A small, dark wooden – perhaps oak – table was shoved against the left wall with a heavy armchair dragged in front of it. On the table there was still a bundle of parchment and an purple coloured inkwell of which the ink had surely dried by now. The rest of the walls were covered with large bookcases, each filled with thick, old tomes and thin, worn out covers which presumably were diaries.
One single painting hung next to the door and portrayed an idyllic landscape, made out of a still lake and a forest covered in snow. There were still some wooden blocks in the marble fireplace and a quick "Incendio" ensured that the room would warm up nicely.
The crackling of the fireplace serving as a soothing background noise, Draco started wandering across the bookcases; grey eyes trailing over the nearly illegible titles. Some had been printed in gold, the letters flaking and nearly peeling off. Others had been written in silver and even what looked suspiciously to be blood. There were instruction books about choosing the right ritual for your needs; potion books detailing the process of the most forbidden potions; several large tomes about the history of the Wizarding World, with some dedicated solely to one wizard or witch like Merlin and Morgana.
The third bookcase contained nothing but books tracing back old Pureblood lines to the very beginning, linking families to the Founders themselves.
The fourth bookcase seemed to be compiled out of miscellaneous topics. There were books about Transfiguration and Charms; there were frayed tomes explaining Pureblood culture and its etiquettes; books as thick as Draco's thigh giving detailed information about magical creatures …
On a whim he slipped out a thin book of the last shelf. The cover was a dark pink and depicted a rounded bottle with a pinkish, purple liquid in it. The title made it more than clear why the book had a pink cover: 'Capture Your Beloved's Heart'.
Grimacing, he browsed through it listlessly, finding various recipes – some of them outdated, others having been decided as being too dangerous later on in history – of potions meant to attract attention of the one you liked, fill them with desperate love and other such things. There were spells meant to ensnare people, have them bow to your every whim …
It seemed a bit ironic that in trying to escape his failure at Harry's home, he would find a book with all sorts of solutions to getting the one you wanted.
It had been nearly two weeks since he had attempted to ask Harry whether he was currently seeing or interested in someone before Granger had interrupted them. Since that disastrous attempt he had seen Harry a few more times, but during none of those moments he had felt brave enough to finish his question. He told himself he just hadn't found the right time yet, but the truth was that he was a coward, plain and simple.
If he didn't put himself out there, if he didn't make himself vulnerable, he wouldn't get hurt and he would still have the illusion that Harry might return his feelings. He had already been rejected once before by Harry and he wasn't keen on repeating that particular experience.
With a silent huff Draco put the book back where he had found it, coughing a bit when the dust got stirred up and twirled around in the air. His nose itched and he felt the first prickles of a sneeze coming up, but the sensation passed and he rubbed underneath his nose to get rid of any dust particles that might have settled there.
Maybe I ought to bring those potion books to the library, he mused as he made his way further into the room. They'd make a great addition.
He paused in front of long, black drapes, shielding something from sight between the last two bookcases, and he furrowed his eyebrows, studying them warily. Keeping the lay-out of the manor in mind, there shouldn't be any window between these two bookcases. Indeed, the only window in this room was right next to the couch, its drapes keeping the dreary daylight out of the study.
If it wasn't a window, what was behind the drapes then?
Frown deepening, he took his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at the drapes, murmuring, "Detraho!"
A small, silver beam of light shot out of his wand and hovered in front of the closed drapes for a moment. Quickly it took on the form of a small key with tiny wings and it flew up and down along the drapes, tracing the slim opening. The key melted away, not leaving any trace behind, and the drapes opened swiftly.
It was a large, dark green tapestry with silver thread sewn throughout it.
Not any tapestry, he corrected himself as he studied the silver thread and discovered they didn't form random patterns, but actual words. The tapestry contained the family tree of the Malfoys, going all the way back until the eleventh century when their ancestor Armand Malfoy had arrived in Great Britain, together with William the Conqueror. He was the one who had built the manor after been given some land in Wiltshire, though his descendants would keep expanding the building throughout the centuries.
Interest growing, Draco leant closer to the tapestry, studying the names glowing faintly in the firelight, which not only contained the actual Malfoy members but also the majority of the families they had been tied to, causing the tapestry to expand even beyond the bookcases.
There was Nicolas Malfoy, who people had suspected had got rid of Muggles under the guise of the plague going through Europe back then. His father had made certain he knew everything about his ancestors, even the less respectful parts, though admittedly he had forgotten some people already. Not every member of the Malfoy family had led an interesting life and he couldn't be blamed if his mind decided to discard the more boring ones.
Eyes trailing lower and lower, he came across more names he recognised. There was Selena's name, the woman whose study he was standing in now and who had most likely created this tapestry. A bit lower was Septimus, the one who started expanding the Malfoy influence in the Ministry of Magic. His father had often bragged that it was thanks to Septimus that the Malfoy influence was so high in the Ministry – even after several wizarding wars.
Even lower than Septimus was Draco's grandfather Abraxas, who he had only known for a short period in his life before the older man had died of Dragon Pox. He didn't have that many clear memories of the silver haired man, but he could remember the older man teaching him the more mischievous charms that his father would wrinkle his nose at – if that hadn't been an uncouth gesture, of course.
Naturally after Abraxas were his parents with his mother's name linking back to her sisters and immediate cousins, including Harry's godfather. And then right at the end, underneath his parents' names, shone his –
He stilled and his heart seemed to stop for a moment, before it started beating in overdrive; the sound of his heartbeat loud in his ears. His vision wavered and ringing started to overshadow his heartbeat as his throat dried up and his hands felt clammy; his wand feeling like an unfamiliar object in his grip.
His brain shortcut as he stared at the tapestry fierce enough to burn a hole through it if his magic decided to act up.
That – that couldn't be true, right? The tapestry was mistaken; the charm meant to update the tapestry with each birth had to be faulty. That had to be it, right? Even charms stopped working after a while. It had to be a mistake! There was no way …
The words 'Draco Malfoy' shone brightly against the dark green background – where it was linked to Harry's name.
Underneath their names a short line was drawn vertically, leading to an empty space.
An empty space waiting to be filled with a new arrival.
AN2: Ah, cliffhangers, how I love thee. Although this is a small one compared to some I've used before LOL
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
I'll see you all next week in the third chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
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In Tatters and Pieces