The Idiot and The Heir

A Manor of Speaking

Aunt Petunia took the news a lot better then Harry had expected.

She had scowled, and sniffed disdainfully, before saying, "they'd better dress normally. I won't have them near my house in their getup." Which was as close to permission as he would ever get. Not that he was really asking, mrs. Malfoy was to come regardless of what his relatives thought, but he felt less stressed knowing his Aunt wanted him gone as much as he wanted to leave.

The ninth of August dawned bright and warm. Harry packed the last of his things, got ready for the day in his most well fitting clothes, and wrote one final entry in his diary, before he placed it in his trunk.

The morning was spent on his usual chores; making breakfast for the Dursleys, cleaning the dishes, and the kitchen, mopping the floors, dusting the shelves and picture frames throughout the house, all of which showed not a single hint that Harry was, or had ever, resided there. He didn't really mind. He wasn't sure he wanted anyone to know he was related to the Dursleys. Definatly not from some random picture that would only show a sliver of what Harry and his relatives meant to each other.

Harry had just finished vacuuming the sittingroom carpet, when there was a knock at the door.

Petunia came out of the kitchen, where she had been watching Harry clean with a scowl on her face, and, putting on a more friendly if indifferent expression, she opened the door. From where Harry stood, winding the vacuum cord around its hooks, he managed to catch a glimpse of a familiar blonde woman, dressed in a simple but elegant silvery gray dress.

"Yes? How can I help you?" Petunia didn't sound like she wanted to help anyone, especially a rich looking woman she'd never met, but Harry felt his heart soar, even as his stomach dropped, when an equally familiar voice responded,

"I've come to pick up Harry Potter. He accepted my son's invitation to stay with us the rest of the summer."

Harry watched his aunt's shoulders tighten as she realized who was standing in front of her.

Now the question was if she would invite mrs. Malfoy in, willingly letting a witch into her house, or would she leave her on the front step where the neighbors could see, which might very well be taken as an insult.

Finally she said, very stiffly,

"Won't you come in?"

It sounded like both a demand and a threat, which was somewhat impressive, considering the mundanity of the offer.

As it was, Petunia stepped aside, allowing mrs. Malfoy entrance, which the magical noblewoman accepted with a graciousness Harry couldn't imagine himself managing. Especially to the Dursleys.

Feeling he should make himself known, since he was the reason for her visit in the first place, Harry returned the vacuum to the cupboard that had once been his room, and cautiously approached his aunt and their guest.

When Narcissa Malfoy's blue eyes caught sight of Harry, she smiled at him, making him feel self conscious, as his face heated up. He wasn't used to adults giving any sign of approval, or warmth towards him. Aunt Petunia however, scowled at him. Something he knew exactly how to respond to.

Stepping forwards, towards the stairs, he gave mrs. Malfoy an awkward smile in greeting.

"I'll just... go grab my stuff."

Feeling extremely awkward, but not wanting mrs. Malfoy to have to wait long for him, (especially in his relatives house, what if she got the wrong idea about his life there?) Harry climbed the stairs as quickly as he could without jumping steps, and hurried over to his room.