Living without Danger
Chapter 10: Surprises of All Kinds (Year 1)
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 10: Surprises of All Kinds
Harry had never been so glad to see the Den. Of course, he’d never been away from it for so long before.
"Boys, you’re bunking in the den room," said Padfoot as the boys helped him and Moony haul their trunks out of the boot of the car.
Harry looked at his godfather in surprise. "Why not upstairs in our room?"
"There isn’t enough room," said Moony, shutting the boot. "Not with the guests."
"Guests?" asked Draco. "Don’t you mean, a guest?" He indicated Ron.
Moony gave his most annoying "I’ve got a secret" smile and didn’t answer.
Letha was already most of the way inside with Hermione’s trunk hovering beside her. Danger levitated Ron’s, Moony took Draco’s, and Padfoot pointed his wand at Harry’s. "Locomotor Trunk," he incanted.
I want a ride, Harry decided, and before the trunk could rise, he quickly sat down on it. The spell lifted him and the trunk off the ground together.
Padfoot gave him the "and what do you think you’re doing, young man" look. It worked better for Letha, Harry thought.
"Get off," said Padfoot finally after a few moments of nothing happening.
Harry stayed put, swinging his booted feet cheekily. I don’t want to. It’s very comfortable here.
"You heard me."
I heard you. I’m just not obeying you.
"Last chance."
Not a chance.
"Fine, you asked for it." Padfoot twiddled his wand.
The trunk rose a bit higher off the ground, until Harry’s knees were about level with Padfoot’s eyes. Then it began to move.
Uh-oh. Harry held on tight.
It felt like riding a broomstick which didn’t like you and had decided to try and buck you off. The trunk did spins, abrupt motions forward, backward, and sideways, even up and down, and once, memorably, almost did a barrel roll, but reversed itself just as Harry felt his grip slipping. Finally, after about a minute, Padfoot lowered him to the ground. "Had enough?" he enquired.
Harry dismounted, made sure his legs would hold him, and gave his godfather his most charming smile. "That was fun," he said breezily. "Do it again?"
Padfoot chortled. "I’d believe you more if your eyes weren’t crossed. Inside with you, if you can see where the door is."
Of course I can see where the door is. It’s... over there. Harry made his way, a trifle unsteadily, up the path and into the Den, stumbling only once and catching himself before he fell. Padfoot followed with his trunk.
The warmth inside the house helped to dispel a bit of Harry’s dizziness. He pulled his coat off and hung it on the rack in the corner, stood his boots under the rack, and walked carefully through the living room into the den room, where a rather strange sight greeted him.
Ron was white. All white, all over. He looked a bit like a ghost, or like he’d walked into a bakery at the wrong moment.
"The beds are pranked," said Draco by way of a hello. "Ron sat down on his and this happened."
Harry looked at the three beds sitting side by side. "Which one’s yours, Ron?"
"This one," said Ron, pointing at the one farthest from Harry. "You’re in the middle, Draco’s on the other end."
"Did someone tell you that, or did you pick?"
"We picked."
"So they’re probably all done the same." Harry went to his trunk, which Padfoot had left in the living room, and opened it. He extracted a shoe and came back to the den room. "Let me try something."
He tossed the shoe onto the middle bed. With a small crack, a cloud of flour appeared over the bed, coating it, and the shoe, thickly.
"I get it," said Draco, picking up the shoe. "And now..."
He repeated Harry’s act on his own bed, triggering the charm without getting himself covered in flour.
"Welcome home," said Danger, appearing in the kitchen doorway of the den room. "Sorry you were the only one who got caught by it, Ron, we were hoping you’d all three get it. Hold still." She flicked her wand around the room. "Scourgify!"
The flour was gone, and Ron looked more or less normal again. "Don’t worry about it," he said. "That’s nothing compared to what Fred and George usually do."
Danger rolled her eyes. "Do yourselves, and me, a favor, and don’t repeat that in front of Padfoot and Moony. They’ll feel like their titles of worst pranksters ever are in jeopardy, and you children and Aletha and I are the closest targets. I’m hoping for a peaceful holiday, with as few pranks as possible — am I getting through here, boys?" she asked Harry and Draco pointedly.
"Yes, Danger," they said in semi-respectful not-quite-unison.
"Can I go to the Lovegoods’?" added Draco.
"You can go, I’m fairly sure the Floo still works..."
Draco sighed. "May I go to the Lovegoods’, please?"
"You may. But I don’t see why you’d bother, when Luna’s upstairs."
Draco hurried out of the room without saying another word.
"Are the beds safe to sit on now?" Harry asked Danger.
"Yes, they’re safe. No more pranks today." She came over and gave him a quick hug. "I’m glad you’re home, Greeneyes," she said quietly, before returning to the kitchen.
"You have a really interesting family," observed Ron as he went to pull his trunk into the den room.
"I know." Harry joined his friend. They got Ron’s trunk into the room and stowed it at the foot of his bed, caught their breath, and went back for Harry’s.
"Does Draco like Luna?" asked Ron when they had pulled Harry’s trunk into the room as well.
Harry nodded, opening his trunk to put his shoe back in. "Why wouldn’t he like her?"
"No, I mean does he like like her." The emphasis on the word this time made Ron’s meaning unmistakable.
"Does he like like her?" Harry chewed on his lip, thinking. "I don’t know, really. I mean, he likes her, but I don’t know if he like likes her." He shrugged. "Let’s get his trunk while we’re doing them."
They shoved Draco’s trunk into the room as well, then sat down on his bed.
"D’you want to go upstairs?"
"All right."
Draco appeared on the landing as they crossed the living room. "Ron," he said, looking confused. "I thought Ginny was going with your parents to visit Bill."
"She was. She is. I mean, she did. I think. Why?"
"Because there’s four girls in that bedroom, not three, and one of them has red hair."
"Surprise," said Letha with a warm smile, descending the stairs. "Ginny’s been a bit ill, and even though she’s not contagious any more, your mother didn’t want to risk her health traveling, so we offered to let her stay for the holiday."
Ron looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to be happy or annoyed.
"Should we go up and say hello, then?" asked Harry.
"If you like. No rough games, but you know that. Just be the gentlemen I know you can be when it suits you." Letha ruffled Harry’s hair as she passed and fake-punched Draco in the jaw.
The boys climbed the stairs and went down the hall past the guest bedroom and Padfoot and Letha’s room to the cubs’ room. Harry knocked on the closed door. "Come in!" Hermione’s voice called.
Harry opened the door. Hermione, Meghan, and Luna were gathered around the bed closest to the wall, which contained Ginny Weasley. Her nose was slightly red, but she looked otherwise all right. "Hi, Ginny," he said. "I hope you’re feeling better."
Ginny nodded, then knocked the box of tissues that was sitting on the nightstand to the floor and had to bend down to get it, coming back up with a face to match her nose.
"Hello, boys," said Luna, standing up from where she had been sitting. "Happy Christmas."
"Thanks," said Ron. "You too."
"Luna, do you want to work on that song my aunt sent us?" asked Draco.
Luna nodded. "I think so."
"Great. See you later, Ginny, I hope you feel better." Draco turned and left the room, Luna following.
"You ruin everything," said Ron disgustedly to his sister. "Like that time when you were four, when you were sick all over Dad’s new robes?"
Ginny turned even redder. "That wasn’t my fault! Fred and George fed me something gross they came up with! And what about the time when you were six that you tried to fly off the roof with the broom Mum uses on the kitchen floor and broke your leg?"
It was Ron’s turn to blush. "How was I supposed to know all brooms didn’t fly? And what about the time..."
Harry sat down on one of the other beds in the room and listened intently. When Hermione and Meghan joined the fracas on Ginny’s side, he joined in to help Ron, and they threw embarrassing stories at each other until Letha came to get them all for dinner.
Ginny spent most of the meal looking at her plate, and when it was over, she, Hermione, and Meghan (Luna had gone home with promises to come over again tomorrow) went back upstairs and shut the door. "I think, if we’d let them, they’d put a big sign on the door," said Danger. "‘No Boys Allowed. This Means You.’"
"Does that mean we have to do the dishes?" asked Draco, looking at the laden table with distaste.
"Not tonight. It’s your first night home — or your first night here for you, Ron — so I’ll let you off. But tomorrow, yes."
"Anyone for a game of chess?" Ron asked.
"Me," said Harry quickly.
"I’ll play winner," said Draco.
"Or," said Letha casually, "you could go see what’s going on in the music room."
Something in her tone made Harry curious. He turned and went down the small hallway to the music room.
And froze in the doorway, causing Ron to run into him from behind.
There was a lion standing in the middle of the room.
Ron made a kind of whimpering noise. Harry’s brain seemed to have frozen.
Lion. Big lion. Male lion — nice mane —
A huge, bear-like black dog was also surveying the lion from one side, and suddenly Harry understood.
"Moony!" he said, just as his Pack-father became human again, a process that took slightly longer than when Padfoot did it and left Harry blinking, unsure if he’d actually seen the transformation in progress or not.
"You did it!" said Draco excitedly. "You’re an Animagus!"
"Not quite yet," said Moony, rolling his shoulders as Padfoot also transformed back to human. "That was really the first time I’ve been able to transform right away, without stalling on some part of it. When I can do it every time, and not get stuck anywhere, then I’m really an Animagus. But that’s just a matter of practice."
"How are Danger and Letha doing?" Harry asked, wondering if it would be rude to ask to see the transformation again.
"Letha’s almost there as well. Danger’s still having a bit of trouble getting into wolf shape reliably. She’ll get it, though, it just takes time." Moony looked at Ron. "Now you know one of our biggest family secrets," he said with a smile. "We’re all studying to be registered Animagi."
"Wow," said Ron, looking suitably impressed.
"Can we see it again?" asked Harry, making up his mind.
"If I can do it again. I make no guarantees." Moony closed his eyes, and Harry saw the man’s lips move for a moment. Then the majestic lion was standing there again.
"Very nice, Moony," said Padfoot approvingly. "That was smoother, and — did you use the incantation at all?"
The human Moony reappeared. "Just the end of it."
"That’s excellent. When you don’t need it at all, that’s when you’re really set."
"We’re going to learn too," Harry told Ron quietly as the men discussed theory. "When we’re thirteen. They promised to teach us, as long as we don’t use the animal forms to get in trouble."
Ron sighed enviously. "Wish I could learn."
"We’ll teach you," said Draco matter-of-factly. "Once we learn how."
"Or maybe you can learn with us," said Harry. He grinned. "If we threaten them with teaching you ourselves. Think it would work again, Draco?"
Draco grinned back. "It worked once."
"Do you boys want to find out what your Animagus forms would be if you learned?" asked Padfoot, breaking into their conversation.
Three heads nodded eagerly.
"To the bathroom, then." Padfoot pointed the way.
The small ground floor bathroom was a bit crowded with five people in it, but they managed. "Have your wands on you?" asked Moony.
Harry produced his, as did Draco. Ron had to go get his from his trunk. "Didn’t think I’d need it," he explained when he got back. "Since we’re not allowed to do magic outside school."
"We’ll cover for you, this once," said Padfoot. "The spell is simple. Revelaro Animalis. Cast it on the mirror, then look into it. You should see different kinds of animals running by. One of them will eventually stop running and make eye contact with you. That one is your form. Who wants to go first?"
"I’ll do it," said Harry. Everyone made room for him, and he raised his wand. "Revelaro Animalis!"
The mirror stopped reflecting the room and became filled with fog. Harry stared into it. The fog cleared away very slightly, revealing animals running past, just as Padfoot had said — a black dog, a black horse, a tawny lion, a red fox, a brown stag, a gray cat... a brown-and-red hawk and a white owl flew past, followed by a tiny, glistening speck that could have been some kind of beetle... a white fox this time, a large reddish-orange wildcat, a cat with orange and black markings on its white fur, and then a wolf...
The wolf turned and looked at him. Its fur was dark grey, almost black, except for a marking on its forehead in lighter grey, shaped like a lightning bolt — and it had green eyes —
The spell was broken. Harry was staring at his own reflection in the mirror.
"Well?" demanded Draco.
"A wolf," said Harry, stepping away from the mirror. "Like Danger turned me into last year. It had my scar and my eyes and everything."
"Cool. Ron, you want to go next?"
"No, you can go."
Draco cast the spell and stared into the mirror, which to Harry’s eyes was the same as ever. Draco, though, looked fascinated by what he saw, tracking invisible things along their paths, until finally something caught his attention and held it.
"Fox," he said when the spell was broken. "A white fox. Again, like what Danger did. I wonder if Neenie’ll be a cat?"
Ron stepped up to the mirror and cast the spell. His took only a moment, and he took a step back from the mirror, looking amazed and almost frightened. "A hawk," he said in an awed whisper. "A big brown hawk with red feathers down its wings!"
"Wicked," said Draco in tones of admiration. "You’d be able to fly without a broom!"
"Useful if you’re in a Quidditch match against Slytherin," said Harry. "If one of them took your broom out, you could transform and get to the ground without getting hurt."
"If you became an Animagus in school, that is," interrupted Moony politely. "But since that’s dangerous, not to mention illegal, I’m sure none of you boys would even dream of doing it. Right?"
The boys nodded solemnly.
xXxXx
The pattern for the holiday was more or less set by the first day. The boys and the girls stayed rather separate, except when Luna came over, in which case Draco spent nearly all his time with her. Letha moved the piano into the living room when this happened, so that Harry and Ron could sit by the fireplace in the music room for hours, eating anything they could wheedle out of Danger that fit on a toasting fork — English muffins and marshmallows were their particular favorites — and talking idly about how to prank Snape and the Slytherins. They had no idea what the girls did upstairs all day, and frankly didn’t care much.
They played outside sometimes — this, the girls did join them in, except Ginny, who was still prohibited from outdoor play because of her lingering cough. She watched them from the bedroom window, which Harry and Ron were careful to snowball every few minutes, just to let her know she wasn’t forgotten.
The number of packages under the Christmas tree (in the music room this year, since the boys were sleeping in the den room) grew as Christmas Day drew nearer. By Christmas Eve, there were at least ten for every person staying at the Den, including Ron and Ginny, whose presents had all been dropped off by their parents before the Weasleys left for Egypt. Harry was rather interested in the contents of a flat box addressed to all four cubs in Amy Freeman’s handwriting.
Christmas Day dawned late, as was its nature, but no one in the Den waited for the sun. By nine o’clock, all the presents had been opened, and Harry was helping Danger fix breakfast for everyone.
Mrs. Weasley, it turned out, had made all four cubs Weasley sweaters like the ones she made her own children. Harry had swapped his green one for Ron’s maroon, knowing his friend’s dislike of the color.
"She always puts a letter on Fred and George’s," said Ginny, regarding her navy blue sweater as Danger delivered her porridge. "But I’m sure half the time they change them around."
"Mum caught them wearing the wrong letters once," recalled Ron. "They claimed they thought it stood for their middle names."
"Ron, d’you want a red one instead of green?" asked Draco, holding up his crimson sweater.
"Sure — toss it over here."
Draco tossed, and Ron caught, just in time to keep the sweater from landing in the cornflakes Harry had handed him a few moments before.
The flat box Harry had been wondering about turned out to be a game.
"Wizard’s Monopoly," Hermione read off the colorful box. "Instructions inside."
The game sounded complicated, Harry thought, but Ron listened eagerly as Hermione read the instruction pamphlet aloud, and everyone else seemed at least interested. (The adults had retreated to the kitchen, leaving the music room populated solely by four cubs, two Weasleys, piles of presents, and mountains of wrapping paper.)
"Should we try it?" asked Meghan.
"How about after we have Christmas dinner," said Harry, getting up. "Danger asked me if I’d help her in the kitchen."
"And I want to try out my new chess set," said Draco. "Ron, you want a game?"
"Let me get my men." Ron got up and left the room.
"I’m going to read, then," announced Hermione. She opened The Ordinary Princess to the first page and was immediately lost to the world.
"Ginny, will you help me do my face?" asked Meghan, a little shyly, proffering the "Little Glamour Witch" make-up kit she’d received.
"Of course I will." Ginny took the kit from Meghan and removed the lid as Ron came back into the room, his chessmen doing limbering-up exercises in their open box.
"Don’t just do something, stand there," said Danger briskly, following Ron into the room and handing Harry an apron. "There’s loads to do if we’re going to eat at any time approaching noon."
Harry smiled as he tied the apron strings behind him.
That’s what she says every year.
And we always manage somehow.
He followed his Pack-mother back to the kitchen, feeling happier than he could really account for. Nothing spectacular had happened, he hadn’t received any presents he’d really wanted — of course, there weren’t any presents he really wanted —
But do you need a reason to be happy?
I think I’ll just enjoy it and not ask why.
And then he was in the kitchen, and everything was organized chaos, and he lost himself happily in the swirl of preparing Christmas dinner.
xXxXx
After dinner and the resulting clean-up, they did play Wizard’s Monopoly — all of them. It turned out to be the sort of game that ten people could play at a time, and so they did.
"I got you the British set, so the money’s the type you’re used to, Galleons and such-like," said Amy’s accompanying note. "The pieces will tell you if you make a really big mistake. Just have fun."
The object of the game was to accumulate money and property and bankrupt your opponents without going bankrupt yourself. The squares on the board were named after famous places in the British wizarding world — Harry was lucky and landed on the dark blue square labeled "Hogwarts" his first time around the board, and bought it straight away for 200 Galleons. Moony bought "Hogsmeade," the other dark blue property, for 175 Galleons on his next turn, and thereafter the two of them tried to make all sorts of outrageous deals to get the other to give up that property, since unless you had all of a color — a monopoly — you couldn’t build things on it to get more money.
Ron was the first to get a monopoly — the three red squares on the opposite corner of the board from the dark blue, emblazoned with the names of famous Quidditch pitches — and Draco was the first to go bankrupt, landing on them the turn after Ron had bought himself four broomsticks and a shed. "I’m going out for a walk," he announced, handing all his money over to Ron.
"Are you," said Danger lazily from her chair by the fire, her small loom on her lap and her hands busy with heddle and shuttle. She was playing by proxy, having Moony take her turns for her.
"I mean, may I please go out for a walk."
"Yes, you may. Don’t go far, and be back in about twenty minutes."
Draco nodded and went to get his coat.
It was a cold, crisp evening, with only a few clouds in the sky. A pinprick of light caught Draco’s eye as he shut the door behind him, and his lips were moving before his brain caught up.
"Star light, star bright,
"First star I see tonight..."
He stopped, feeling a little silly, but then shrugged. No one’s here to hear me, I might as well finish.
"I wish I may, I wish I might
"Have the wish I wish tonight."
Now, what do I want to wish for?
He walked slowly down the path, never taking his eyes from the star.
"I wish I could see my father," he said aloud, but very quietly. "I wish I could meet him, and talk to him. Just for a little while. Just to see what he’s like."
You know what he’s like, said part of his mind. You’ve heard it in den-night stories, you remember it yourself. He’s a mean, cruel, evil bastard who deserves everything he’s getting.
But am I sure? argued another part. I was only a baby when I knew him. And I don’t think the Pack’s lied to me, but they might have... bent the truth, or only told me parts of it. Or there might be another side to the story, one I’ve never heard. There might be reasons for the things he did.
Reasons. Right, said the first part of his mind — and now that he listened, it sounded a lot like Harry. Reasons for him to murder and torture people?
Shut up.
Harry had it easy, thought Draco moodily, kicking at clumps of snow. He knew what his father had really been like — he had it on authority from the man’s best friends, for Merlin’s sake. There would be no unpleasant surprises in his brother’s future.
My brother. I call him that without even thinking about it most of the time. What would my father say if he found out? He wanted us to be brothers too...
I wish I knew.
xXxXx
Of the three boys sleeping in the den room that night, one already knew that wishes were powerful. A second would learn it several years in the future.
The third was scheduled to learn it tonight.
xXxXx
Harry walked the halls of Hogwarts, only mildly surprised to be there. He knew where he was going — the room with the mirror in it. He wanted to see what would happen when he looked in it.
As he passed the suit of armor, he heard a groan of frustration. A familiar groan.
"Hermione?" he called, turning into the room.
His sister looked at him with a grimace on her face. "All those books," she said. "And I can’t read any of them! Because they’re in a mirror — so they’re all backwards! Agh!" She stormed past him, out of the room. Harry watched her go, then approached the mirror himself.
Backwards. Something about that was tickling his brain. Backwards.
He looked up at the lettering at the top of the mirror, and suddenly it clicked. Those letters don’t make any sense forwards — but what if they’re written backwards?
He looked around, and sure enough, parchment, ink and quill were sitting on top of one of the unused desks. He uncapped the ink, dipped the quill, and began to write the letters backwards, not bothering to leave spaces between them. I’ll figure it out later.
When he finished, he looked at what he had. "I show not your face," he read aloud slowly, "but your heart’s desire."
Heart’s desire. Suddenly, it all made sense. Neville wants to know his parents — Ron wants to be special, better than his brothers — Draco wishes he could have known his blood parents —
He snickered. And Hermione wants books — what a big surprise.
He set aside the parchment and stood up. Time to find out what I want.
Harry Potter stepped in front of the Mirror of Erised and gazed into its depths.
xXxXx
Draco didn’t really know where he was. Or what he was doing there.
He stood on the edge of a cliff. The wind tugged at him, pushing him first back towards safety, then forward towards the drop. He could hear and smell the sea far below. He was dressed all in black and held his flute in one hand.
Impulsively, he lifted it to his mouth and began to play, one of Moony’s favorite melodies, a father’s farewell to a beloved child. As the last note faded, a voice spoke from behind him.
"Well played," it said, in a tone that lingered annoyingly between mocking and sincere.
Draco turned and found himself face to face with his father.
There could be no mistake. They could have been snapshots of the same person, taken 25 years apart. The older man, too, wore all black, though his hands were empty. He was impeccably groomed, just as Draco’s fuzzy childhood memories had him, and he was staring at his son with — was it distaste? Draco’s stomach twisted.
"Sir," he acknowledged the man, giving the small, formal bow Padfoot had taught them.
"Who are you?" Lucius Malfoy asked bluntly.
Draco stared at the man, astonished. "Sir — don’t you know me?"
"I know who you appear to be, boy. I want to hear it from your own mouth. Who are you?"
"My name is Draco, sir. I’m eleven. I’m a first year at Hogwarts."
Malfoy nodded stiffly. "What house claims you?"
"Gryffindor, sir."
The man’s face contorted with anger, and he looked off into the distance. "The insolent dog spoke truly, then," he said softly. He looked back at Draco. "And I suppose you use the surname Black."
"Yes, sir."
"What is that thing in your hand?"
"My flute, sir. I play."
"Yes, I heard you. Tell me, do you also sing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sing something for me."
Draco looked around, uneasily. The sky was dark and getting darker. "Now, sir?"
"Now, sir?" Malfoy mocked. "Yes, boy, of course now. Unless you have somewhere else to be."
Draco bit his lip, trying to think of something he could sing that wouldn’t offend this obviously touchy man.
It’s Christmas. I’ll do a Christmas carol.
He sang a verse of Padfoot’s favorite, "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen," and was rewarded with something like a smile on Malfoy’s face. "Very nice," the man said. "Very nice indeed. And quite in the spirit of the season. Tell me, Draco, do you know who I am?"
"Yes, sir. I mean, I think I do."
"Then tell me. Who do you think I am?"
Draco tried not to swallow visibly. "I think, sir, that you’re Lucius Malfoy, my birth father."
"Very good. I see they haven’t tried to make you forget me. Do you remember me?"
"Only a little, sir."
"And what do you remember of me?"
Draco wanted to back up, but the only thing behind him was the cliff edge. "I remember being afraid, sir," he answered quietly, but without dropping his eyes from Malfoy’s face. "I remember being afraid of you."
Malfoy nodded, an expression of satisfaction appearing on his features. "Good. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten everything. It will make you easier to train when I reclaim you."
Draco almost did take a step back. "Re-reclaim me?"
"Of course. When the Dark Lord returns. And he will return, Draco, make no mistake. He will return. And when he does, I shall be rewarded — and for my reward, I will ask for only one thing. You."
All right. This was officially a very bad idea.
Draco looked around for places to go and found none — he was on an outcrop of the cliff, Malfoy could reach him if he tried to run either way, and behind him there was nothing but the empty air…
"I will have you again," said Malfoy, now moving forward, taking deliberate steps, and seemingly enjoying the fear Draco knew was on his face, as hard as he was trying to control it. "Remember that, and think about coming to me willingly. It would make things so much easier for both of us. I would, of course, have to insist that you give up this strange hobby of music. The flute, perhaps, I would allow you to keep, but the singing — by no means."
"What if I don’t want to?" asked Draco, proud in some distant corner of his mind that his voice was steady.
Malfoy was so close now that they were practically touching. His smile was distinctly nasty, hinting at things Draco didn’t even want to think about. "I am very much accustomed to getting my own way. I would regret greatly placing you under Imperius or any similar charm — but if it was the only way to ensure that you remained faithful and obedient to me, I would do it without hesitation."
Draco had given up trying to control his face and was focusing all his energy on standing up straight, on not cowering before this man, who frightened him far more than he wanted to admit, who was the monster of all his baby nightmares, and who was obviously willing to follow through on every threat he had made…
A hand wrapped around Malfoy’s shoulder. He spun.
Just in time for his nose to meet with a small fist.
"How dare you," snapped Danger, interposing herself between father and son. "How dare you speak to my son that way."
"Your son?" sneered Malfoy, though the effect of the sneer was somewhat diminished by the necessity of his holding a fold of his cloak to his bleeding nose. "And who might you be?"
"What, you don’t remember me?" Danger chuckled. The warm sound seemed to banish some of the darkness around them. "I find that hard to believe. But let me refresh your memory. I held Draco in my arms the night we came to claim him. I called him by his name and told you who he would become."
"You!" Malfoy’s face cleared, became furious. "The Muggle! Lupin’s woman!"
"Very good," said Danger approvingly. "Gold star for you."
"You will not take my son from me again!"
"So right — because there’s nothing to take. You have no son, Lucius. Not legally. However, if Draco wishes to claim you as his father, that’s his right, I won’t stop him." Danger tilted her head back. "Do you?" she asked very quietly.
"Let me say it?" Draco whispered back. Danger nodded and stepped over to one side, to let Draco move forward and stand in front of her. His heart seemed to lurch as he looked again at the face so like his own, twisted in rage, and he wished desperately that the image he’d seen in the mirror could have been real — but the truth had to be faced, and the difference between the two adults’ behavior toward him had told him everything he needed to know.
"I thought I wanted to know you," said Draco finally. "But now I see I already do. All the stories I’ve been told are true. You don’t care about me. You never did. All you want is someone to call your son and show off to the world. Someone who’ll do whatever you want without you ever giving him anything back. Well, I’m not interested. I have a father already — I have two fathers, and two mothers — and they care about me. Me. A real person, Draco Black, with his own ideas and interests, not some made-up perfect son they want me to be."
Malfoy was breathing heavily, but Draco wasn’t finished. "And I have friends, too. I’m friends with Ron and Ginny Weasley. And with Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. And I have my sisters — Meghan Black and Hermione Granger-Lupin — and my brother. You remember him. You wanted him to be my brother. Well, now he is. His name is Harry Potter, and he’s my alpha, and I’d follow him anywhere, and I hope someday we will go into battle together, and beat you and everything you stand for. I hate you. And I never want to see you again."
Malfoy seemed unable to speak. He gesticulated for a moment, his mouth working madly, then made a grab at them —
Danger caught Draco’s wrist and leapt from the cliff, pulling him off with her, but before Draco could scream, he realized they weren’t falling, but rather drifting down lightly, as if they were feathers.
"What’s happening? Why aren’t we falling?"
"Draco, what’s the last thing you remember before you were here?"
Draco thought. "Er, going to bed…" Then he felt stupid. "Oh. It’s a dream. Isn’t it?"
"Yes. But, unless I’m very much mistaken, that was the genuine Lucius Malfoy back there. You somehow managed to connect your dream with his, so that the two of you were sharing. Not at all a common thing — I’ve only done it once or twice myself with someone who wasn’t Remus. Do you have any idea how it happened?"
Draco ducked his head, embarrassed. "I wished on a star," he said quietly.
"Do you want to tell me why? I don’t need to know, but I confess I’m a little curious."
Draco explained about the mirror they’d found, and what he’d seen, and what it had made him think of. It took the rest of their leisurely drift to the surface of the water.
"A magical mirror," Danger ruminated. "I think I know what you’re talking about — but why don’t we make sure?"
Abruptly, they were somewhere else.
"Hogwarts!"
"Exactly. This is where the mirror is in real life, so this is where it ought to be in dreams." Danger pushed the door open.
Harry leapt away from the mirror as if he’d been stung. "You scared me!"
"And you me," said Danger, hand on her heart. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to have a look in the mirror — and I think I figured out what the inscription on the top means. It’s written backwards, in mirror language, it says ‘I show not your face but your heart’s desire.’"
"Very good, Harry. Boys, I’ve read about this mirror — it’s called the Mirror of Erised, and just like Harry said, it shows you the greatest desire of your heart. Now, desires are nothing to be ashamed of," Danger said gently to Draco, who felt himself turning a bit pink, "but we have to realize that they may not be possible in real life. You’ve each had a look, so I think now it’s time to leave, and I want you both to promise that you won’t go looking for the Mirror again. It won’t be here when you get back to school, and I have a feeling you won’t be going where it’s going to be."
Harry frowned. "But it didn’t work for me."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I looked in it, but I didn’t see anything. Just me."
Danger chuckled quietly. "Harry James Potter," she said affectionately, "you are a wonder."
"He is?"
"I am?"
"Yes. You are. Trust me."
The dream dissolved, and Draco was abruptly awake in the darkness of the den room, hearing Ron’s snores from the bed on the other end and Harry’s irregular breathing from the one next to him.
"All right?" whispered Harry.
"All right," Draco whispered back.
In the darkness, two hands met and clasped briefly.
xXxXx
Danger stepped back into her own dream, where Remus was waiting for her, lolling on the beach in lion form, basking in the sun. "It’s official," she said, plopping down beside him and scratching behind his ears.
What is?
"Harry Potter is the happiest person alive."
Well, that’s good. A little lower, please.
"What do you think you’d see if you looked in the Mirror?" Danger mused.
You, scratching just a little to the left… a little more… that’s it. Ahhh.
A few moments later, there were no humans on the dream beach at all. Only a lion and a lioness.
In dreams, you can be anything you want.