RECAP
Boy cautiously stepped toward the grate and took a pinch of floo powder. He'd never done this by himself before, and was worried. There were so many things that could go wrong. What if h- no. Nothing would go wrong. Steadying himself mentally, Boy took his place and threw down the powder. "Potter Manor!"
With a rush of emerald flames, he was swept away.
END RECAP
And spat out into one of the sitting rooms of the manor, crumpling into a heap. He crossed his fingers, desperately hoping that Bear could do as he implied.
In the few minutes of waiting, Boy was panicking. What if he couldn't get past the wards? What if he got hurt trying? What if he got splinched? What-
A hearty woof made Boy open his eyes.
Bear licked his face all over, then held still so that Boy could wrap his arm around his neck. He slowly raised his head to help Boy up.
"Let's sneak upstairs, okay?" Boy whispered. "We have to be very quiet."
Giving him another lick, Bear waited for him to lead the way.
With one hand fisted in the plushy fur and the other keeping a firm grip on his walking stick, he slowly led them toward the Hall. They made it to the second floor and hadn't run into anyone yet. Boy breathed a sigh of relief. If he could get up the next flight of stairs, he would be in the clear. The only issue was that the staircase was past their bedrooms and Sir's office. Boy held his finger to his lips and went back to holding Bear's fur. He didn't expect Bear to make noise or run off, but it comforted him nonetheless. Heart pounding frantically, he crept toward the stairs.
Third floor! He'd made it!
There was his door! He was going to get to his attic wholly unnoticed! Maybe the break wouldn't be as bad as he feared. Maybe they would just ignore him for the next couple of weeks.
As he pulled his door closed, Boy breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Alright, doggy. Go on up."
Bear plodded up the last staircase and sniffed around, getting a feel for his new temporary lodgings. He let out a low growl.
Confused, Boy limped up the stairs. "What's wrong, Bear?" He asked, patting his doggy's back.
He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. It was just as it had always been. Broken bunk beds, bare walls, nothing new.
But Bear wouldn't let him off the landing.
Before Boy could blink, Bear was pinned to the ground by chains and there was a metal muzzle on his snout! What happened?!
He gasped as Sir seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
"You weren't supposed to come back," Sir snarled, still holding onto his wand. "Did you really think that mutt would keep you safe?" He let out a cold laugh.
Boy shook his head, immediately snapping back into his mute ways.
"I've heard that you've been getting ideas at Hogwarts. Apparently you've been thinking pretty highly of yourself lately."
Eyes wide, Boy shook his head again. He wanted to beg forgiveness for whatever Sir meant, but he didn't dare.
Sir took another step.
Bear was growling low in his throat.
With a wicked grin, Sir sent an overpowered stinging hex at Bear's side, but Boy shielded him.
Crying out, Boy fell half on top of his doggy. From past experience, he knew that it would leave an angry red welt. His heart pounded rapidly as Sir drew closer still.
An hour or two later, Boy couldn't tell, Sir finally left. Boy held up his hand and mustered up as much energy as he could, then sent it toward the chains that still bound Bear.
The instant his bonds broke, Bear was at Boy's side.
"'S okay, Cuddles," he said wearily, his focus shifting in and out. "Jus'... jus' stay wi' me."
Head hung, the Wyhound inched closer, as if afraid of hurting him. Moving slowly, he curled around Boy like when they were in school. He whimpered and sniffled, but Boy had already fallen asleep.
Boy's breath caught in his throat as he woke, his leg feeling like it was on fire. There were other injuries, but that was the worst. As the sun began to rise, Boy lay still and started to put all of his healing knowledge to use. He started with the worst injuries, aside from his knee. Muttering in Latin, he closed his eyes and focussed on his ribs, gently putting his left hand over the most painful spots. From there, he moved on to the back of his head, then his right wrist. He ignored the cuts, bruises and welts, of which there were plenty.
Willing away the urge to use the loo, he waited to regain some strength before starting in on his knee. Propping himself up on his elbows, he winced slightly at the stab of pain that ran along his left shoulder. He took a few seconds to get over it and continued the painfully slow journey of sitting upright.
Bear was right there, using his head to make sure that Boy didn't tip back, which he had done twice.
By the time he was fully upright, Boy was panting and sweaty from exertion. Again, he stopped for a few minutes. When he felt steadier and his breathing was back to normal, he cupped his hands on either side of his knee. He squeezed his eyes shut and poured as much magic into the horribly swollen joint as possible.
This went on for over an hour and his bladder was making itself very well known. Knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to make it down to the third floor, he let Bear help him up and wee'd out the hole in the wall. That act disgusted him, but needs must. As he held onto the wall, a thought occurred to him.
"Bear?" He asked, looking at his doggy. "Do you need out? You know, to wee?"
Bear bobbed his head, clearly taking Boy's quiet as a queue.
Palms flat against the bare planks, he envisioned a hinge at floor level and a piece of the wall lowering like a drawbridge. It was only as high as his shoulders, but he was too exhausted to fix it at the moment. "You'll need to fly down," he said sadly. "And if you can hunt, I think you should. Sir won't be feeding you-" us "-any time soon. Just remember, do not let them see you, okay? If they find out that I can let you out, we'll both be in deep trouble."
Bear squeezed through the short opening. When he was on the ledge, he shook out his wings and took off into the early morning light.
Shivering at the vicious wind that blasted through the drawbridge, Boy tugged it almost closed. He didn't want to close it completely so that Bear could let himself in. It was too hard to stay awake and wait.
Leaning heavily on his walking stick, Boy made his way over to the elf-sized mattress and sank into it gratefully. He might be hurting, but it was marginally better than sleeping on the flagstone floors of his broom cupboard. To his astonishment, his feet actually went just past the end. Not far, but still. He really was growing. With that thought in mind, Boy slipped back into the arms of Morpheus.
It wasn't until Monday, the twenty-third, that Boy's first meal popped into the attic. He didn't care that he was back to bread and bland broth with potatoes. It was wholly unappealing, but he was so hungry!
Five minutes later, he regretted eating it. His stomach was in knots and gnawing at itself at the same time. It was a horrible feeling. He barely had time to push the drawbridge open before sicking it right back up.
Bear took off out the drawbridge the moment the sun had set, returning with dirt covered carrots.
There was a greenhouse? Boy didn't know that. Either way, he scrubbed most of the dirt off before chomping down on the sweet carrot. That first bite was ten times more flavorful than his entire meal, and he was grateful for it.
He waited a while before he would say for certain that he wasn't going to be sick again, but he was fine. Far from full, but fine. He was convinced that he could no longer gain satisfaction from anything food-wise, and he wished he knew why or at least whether or not it could be remedied.
Glumly, Boy looked around the space. "Well, Cuddles," he sighed. "There's not much to do here, but I could read to you. Would you like that?"
Bear wagged his tail and pulled the mattress off of the little frame with his teeth. When he was satisfied, Bear curled up on the floor at the head of the bed.
Still wearing his school robe, Boy dug around his pocket and produced his trunk. When it was resized, he took out three of the non-educational books he'd ordered. He lowered himself to the floor, with Bear's aid, and held each one up in turn. "Alright, Cuddles. We have The Prickly Prince and the Daring Dragon Rider, which is about a very stuffy prince who befriends a dragon rider. Next up is The Littlest Warrior which is about a race of magical fae warriors, and the young man who 'changed the world, proving that size does not matter'." Boy looked up as Bear let out a funny noise. "Don't look at me like that. I just read it off the cover. Okay, the third one is called The Games which is about 'daring feats of bravery in the face of fear'."
He looked at the books and put his massive paw over The Prickly Prince.
"Good choice, Cuddles," Boy said, snuggling into the warm fur. For the rest of the day, he read aloud, the tale of Prince Simon. Prince Simon was twelve years old, and was very full of himself, until he met Ryu, who was the same age. Ryu's father was the dragon trainer for Prince Simon's father's army. They met when Prince Simon saw Ryu climbing on the back of a juvenile dragon, and loudly demanded that he get down. They got into a fight, as Ryu had not recognized him, and Prince Simon tried to have Ryu banished from the palace grounds. His father, King Magnus, refused and made him spend his afternoons helping Ryu take care of the dragons and they eventually became best friends.
Boy thought it was unrealistic, as dragons could not be tamed that well, but he absorbed every word with fascination and excitement. For each character, he came up with different voices, and every time a dragon roared, he would queue Cuddles to growl (quietly) by pausing and poking his paw, which was draped over his lap.
By the time they finished, the sun had gone down hours ago. With one last trip to relieve themselves through the drawbridge, they closed it up tightly and went to bed.
Waking with the sunrise, Boy wriggled off of Bear and began his knee exercises. While they wouldn't make him better, it would prevent his injury from becoming worse. He attached a long elastic strip to the wall with a simple sticking charm in a long loop and put around his shin. Standing just far enough from the wall for there to be some tension, he began to slowly extend his left leg, while keeping all of his weight on his right leg. Thrice more he changed directions until his leg had been stretched forward, backward, left and right.
It was tiring and a bit painful, but if it helped him retain the ability to walk long-term, it was worth it.
Boy spent most of the day casting tempus, at least twice per hour. It was the day of the Malfoy Annual Yule Ball, and Boy was excited. The Ball was going to be nice, he just knew it, though he was more excited about seeing Lucius again. He was the first person to ever treat Boy like an actual person, and Boy was grateful beyond words.
At five, Boy took the garment bag out of his trunk and unzipped it with a wide smile. The robes were Slytherin green with red trim that bore silver filigree and snowflake inspired sparkles. They had cost him forty galleons, as opposed to the simpler ones at half the price. Through correspondence with Mrs. Whelan, he was assured that it was quite fashionable, and perfectly appropriate for a ball. She had kindly mentioned how dashing the coloring would be for him.
He put them on and he had to agree with her. He felt so grown up! Donning his cloak, he cast the most powerful disillusionment charms he knew on both Bear and himself, along with a silencing bubble that would travel with them. It was an ingenious little spell he'd found in the Hogwarts library in November, though he never thought he'd use it to sneak out of his attic.
By some miracle, Boy was able to get down to the sitting room without being seen. He cast a silent revealing spell to find out if there were any people in the room. None! He couldn't believe his luck! He might actually get away with it!
Rushing ahead, Boy slipped into the floor and called out his destination. "The Leaky Cauldron!"
Boy wasn't stupid. He knew that floo travel left traces that could be followed. Leading Sir to Malfoy Manor would be a bad idea. Sir likely knew where it was, but he had no reason to be there.
Scurrying through the dingy pub, he tapped the stones in order and watched in wonder as the wall shifted. He was glad that the memory of his first visit held the pattern.
The alley was packed with last minute shoppers!
Keeping the spells on Bear, Boy finagled his way through the crowds. He found a jeweler and hurried inside.
"Hello!" Called a cheery voice. "And what can I do for you on this lovely evening?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Boy said honestly. "I'm to attend a holiday party and I've not had time to purchase a gift for the hosts." He basked in the warmth of the shop.
"Dear me!" The portly man said, shocked. "And it looks as though you're already dressed up for the occasion! Alright, young man. What were you thinking? For the hosts, I mean."
He bit his lip. "Perhaps a broach of some sort, for the Lady of the house. I've never met her, so I don't know what might look best. Do you know what Lady Malfoy looks like, sir?"
"Malfoy? A 'party' he says!" The man's eyes widened. "I am well acquainted with the Malfoy family. I can help you, though it isn't expected for the guests to bring gifts. You understand that, yes?"
He hadn't, but it wasn't going to stop him. "I do, sir, and thank you."
The man nodded. "Come have a look. I happen to have two pieces that Lady Malfoy pointed out to Lord Malfoy just a week ago."
Boy just hoped he had enough money. They were incredibly wealthy, and he had already spent a good deal of his galleons on his robes and presents for his friends.
At a quarter to six, he had three small, beautifully wrapped packages in his pocket. The shopkeeper, who had been incredibly helpful, even let Boy use his private floo in his work area.
"Malfoy Manor!" He called out, tossing the powder.
Boy was ejected from the floo into a splendidly decorated sitting room. The walls were a lovely forest green and had cream colored accents. The furniture was done in dark wood and cream upholstery. There were green and gold decorative pillows on both couches and both chairs.
A house elf popped up in front of him. "Does little guest has his invitation?"
Boy shook his head. "It was misplaced in the mail. Lord Malfoy invited me."
The elf looked annoyed. "Little boys is bad, sneaking into poor Malfoy family homes! You is bad boy! Go home, bad boy!"
"But I'm not!" Boy said desperately. "My name is Harry Potter, and I was invited. I'll happily wait here if you'd prefer to check." He couldn't be thrown out before getting inside! He had risked a lot to even show up in the first place! They couldn't send him away now!
"I thought I heard the floo," came a melodic voice.
Turning quickly, Boy saw what was surely the most beautiful woman in the world, and she was smiling at him!
"Hello, dear." She approached him gracefully. "Who might you be?"
"He is naughty boy!" The elf said, wagging a long finger at him. "Naughty boy who sneaks into Mistress' home without invitation!"
Again, Boy shook his head. "Are you Lady Malfoy?" When she confirmed that she was the Lady of the house, he introduced himself.
"My husband spoke quite highly of you, Mr. Potter." She said kindly, then dismissed the elf. "Would you escort me to the ballroom?"
Relieved, he offered his arm. He did feel a bit silly, as he was much shorter than her, but did it nonetheless.
He gasped in amazement at the opulence of the ballroom. Everything glittered, from the enchanted snowfall to the massive chandelier, to the long silver runners on the tables. Even the black marble floors were reflecting each sparkle, making it seem endless. It was incredible! And he told her as much.
"You're too kind, Mr. Potter." She smiled again.
He liked her smile. It didn't look fake or forced the way her son's always was. Since they hadn't gotten very far into the room yet, as Boy was still admiring everything, he slowed further. "I apologize, Lady Malfoy, but I'm not entirely sure of all the customs. I hope it wasn't presumptuous of me to bring each of your family a small trinket."
She gasped lightly. "You needn't do that, Mr. Potter. It is greatly appreciated."
Blushing brightly, Boy bit his lip. He was under the impression that it was customary to bring a gift for the hosts of a party. "Sorry," he mumbled in embarrassment.
"Mistress," came a mildly frantic whisper.
Lady Malfoy stopped, facing a well-dressed house elf. "Yes, Dobby?"
"Mistress, there be's a great, scary beast in the sitting room! We elfies be keeping it inside, but it be's trying to get out!"
"Bear!" Boy gasped.
"Don't you worry, dear." Lady Malfoy said easily. "A bear couldn't get past our wards."
"No, sorry. The... beast. His name is Bear. He's my familiar." Boy explained quickly.
"Little master has great beasty Wyhound?" Asked the incredulous elf in quiet awe.
"I hope it won't cause any undue problems. He's actually a support animal that marked me on the grounds at school." Boy couldn't help but feel dumb. First, he has no invite and is scolded by an elf. Then finds out that he wasn't supposed to bring gifts. And now he's got an uninvited animal! He has only been here for a few minutes and has already made a fool of himself. This was a mistake. "I'm so sorry. I should probably go."
"Is everything alright, dearest?"
They turned to find the master of the house approaching.
Boy wished the floor would split open and swallow him whole.
Lucius smiled upon seeing Boy's flushed cheeks. "Narcissa, have you been teasing our guests?" He asked playfully.
Boy's blush darkened.
"Of course not!" She said with no real heat. "Dobby, please let... Bear through."
"You don't have to do that," Boy said immediately. "I can go-"
"Don't be silly," Lady Malfoy said kindly. "If he is your true familiar, I would never attempt to separate the two of you. That would be cruel."
Boy was curious about her wording, so he pulled up his sleeve, where the tattoo-like bite mark was on his forearm.
At that moment, there was a clicking echoing through the gorgeous ballroom.
Lady Malfoy let out a less than dignified squeal.
"Were you a good doggy for the elves?" Boy asked, scrubbing his knuckles behind Bear's floppy ears.
Bear wagged his tail happily.
"I know what he looks like," Boy began. "But you have to believe me. He is not a Grim." He leaned close to Lucius. "He's a Wyhound, but not many people know that. It's why he's so big. The color is just a coincidence."
"Right," he said breathlessly.
Bear sniffed at their hands, seemingly pleased with the couple.
When Bear stuck his tongue out, Boy stopped him. "No kisses! I don't think anyone would appreciate a face full of doggy slobber, no matter how cute you are."
Bear huffed and let his ears droop.
To his and Lady Malfoy's surprise, Lucius began patting Bear! And he looked happy about it!
Boy couldn't understand why everyone was so afraid of the Malfoy Lord. He was very kind.
When Lucius finished, he saw their shocked expressions and smirked. "It looks like it's time for me to play the dutiful host."
"Nose up, darling," Lady Malfoy reminded him. She looked back at Boy. "You are certainly something, Mr. Potter. Not many people can bring out his sweet side in public. He is rather fond of you."
Boy beamed. "Me too!" He said wholeheartedly. "I-I mean, I enjoy his company as well..." Oh, Merlin. Would he ever stop embarrassing himself? These people were fancy, and he was an awkward eleven year old! Everyone thinks he's smart, but he can't even talk to anyone without looking like a little kid!
"I must attend to my duties," Lady Malfoy said regretfully. "You'll save a dance for me?"
Without thinking, Boy nodded.
"Excellent!" She replied, glancing toward her husband. "I do believe the younger guests have decided to hide in the dining hall."
Taking that as his queue, Boy led his familiar to the large doors and slipped inside.
All of the Slytherins were there, from first to third year. Boy assumed that the older ones were there too, but stayed with their parents in the ballroom. They had separated themselves by year, but now that they saw Boy, they were united in their obvious dislike.
"What the hell are you doing here, Potty?" Draco demanded angrily.
"Not taking a hint," Blaise said boredly. "Wasn't having your invitation stolen enough to tell you that no one wants you here?"
Boy didn't say a word. He was used to it, having lived with them for four months. There was no need to point out that by receiving an invitation at all was proof he was wanted at the ball. It wouldn't have made a difference. Their views of him would never change.
For half a second, Boy regretted spending so many galleons on Draco's gift. The dragon cloak pin had cost him thirteen galleons! He could have used that money for clothes (which he was in desperate need of) or gotten more gifts for people who would actually appreciate them!
Just as quickly, he felt bad. It wouldn't have been right to show up with things for Draco's parents and not him. Besides, Lucius' gift hadn't cost much at all. It had only been two galleons and a few sickles. It was Draco's and Narcissa's that were more costly.
Boy froze. What if Lucius was upset at receiving something so cheap while the other things were expensive? What if he missed Boy's attempt at humor? What if all Boy had done was anger the first person to ever be nice to him? That hadn't been his intention at all! Oh no.
Boy left the dining hall, in search of Lucius.
There were so many people! At least a hundred and fifty!
He had to explain the gift, despite not having given them yet. If he hadn't told Lady Malfoy about the gifts, it wouldn't be an issue. He could have just kept them in his pocket and no one would have been any the wiser.
It took quite a while, but he eventually found the aristocratic blond, who was speaking to a group of old men. Not one of them looked under the age of eighty-five.
One of the old men cleared his throat, glaring at Boy pointedly.
Lucius turned. "Mr. Potter," he said evenly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. It can wait," Boy was quick to say.
The old men seemed perfectly content to ignore him.
"Actually, Mr. Randall," Lucius said, keeping an eye on him. "I believe that an introduction between yourself and young Mr. Potter could prove beneficial for both parties."
Boy and Mr. Randall were both confused, and a bit skeptical.
"Mr. Potter, Harry, not either of the James'," his lip quirked in amusement at that. "Is the first eleven year old to be immediately tested straight into OWL classes. Mr. Randall, who's name actually is James, is the Head of the Mastery Apprenticeship Program in the ministry. MAP for short."
Boy's eyes bulged. "Masteries?" He parroted, awestruck.
"Eleven, you say?" Mr. Randall looked impressed, if not totally convinced.
"Indeed," Lucius supplied. "If he weren't under obligation to complete the OWLs first, he would have been placed in the seventh year."
Boy's cheeks burned.
"You're not serious!" Mr. Randall gaped.
"Have you spoken to Professor Vector?" Boy asked, surprised at his familiar words. "She said that I'd likely wind up skipping sixth year all together. She was actually mad that I had to take my OWLs to move on to NEWTs, that it was a waste of time."
"For Merlin's sake, Mr. Potter! Why haven't you taken them at the ministry already?" Mr. Randall asked, astonished.
"Sorry?" Boy didn't understand. He was still thinking about the gift situation.
"Your exams!" He said excitedly, his big, bushy mustache twitching. "Heavens. Let us have a seat. I am not as young as I once was."
He had to admit, it would be nice. While it wasn't too bad (yet), his leg was beginning to become bothersome. "Of course, sir. That sounds wonderful."
Lucius excused himself politely as they made their way to an open table.
Boy was delighted to note that his slower pace was evenly matched with the elderly man's.
"If I may," he began, stroking his mustache. "I find myself curious about this." He pointed at the cane, now leaning against the table.
"It's nothing," Boy replied, brushing it off. "Just a little accident at Hogwarts a couple of months ago."
"Months, you say?"
Boy nodded. "It got me a familiar, so it's not all bad. Huh, Bear?"
Bear had been dutifully by his side, never making a sound. Now that he was being acknowledged, though... He went doggy-kiss crazy.
"Blech!" Boy said, his nose crinkled. He wiped his face clean. "Sorry about that, Mr. Randall. Bear here is very affectionate."
"Clearly," he responded, smirking. "Lady Malfoy warned all of the guests that there was a Grim-like dog in attendance this evening, but that it was a lovable thing. She was correct, I see."
Boy smiled. "Yes, sir."
"Now," he said, taking a delicately crafted goblet of wine from a floating tray. "I insist you call me James. I have a feeling that you and I will be seeing quite a bit of each other in the near future."
"Thank you, s-James. Please, call me Harry."
"Think nothing of it!" He put down his goblet and dabbed at his mouth with a silky napkin. "Have you considered your future, Harry? What you would like to do by way of employment, I mean."
"Not really," Boy admitted, slightly ashamed. "My friends, who are in my year, have asked the same thing many times, but I can't answer them either."
"Well, you'll not find many closed doors, I can assure you. With your intelligence, you'll have Masters of all kinds knocking down your door!"
"I certainly hope not. The repairs alone..."
James laughed heartily at the silly joke. "Tell me, what classes hold your interest best?"
"All of them!" Boy said right away. "Oh, except for history, but I think that has more to do with the teacher than the subject itself."
"We've all been there," James said knowingly. "For me, it was my potions professor... Althwait, I believe. What about fun, then? What do you do when you're not in classes? That might help you decide what to do later in life."
Boy hummed in thought. "I love flying. They made me seeker for the house team! I also have a bit of a salon business going on at Hogwarts. My friends thought of it. I made quite a bit of money in a short amount of time. Aside from that, I enjoy drawing a lot. It's a new hobby, and I'm not great at it, but I absolutely love it."
The man nodded thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how those interests would translate into a lucrative career worth your time and talents, though having such a wide array of interests is admirable. Well rounded. Not a mere egghead, you know."
Boy giggled at that. "One of my friends said something similar. She said that if I weren't so smart, I'd make an excellent hairdresser." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I just liked playing with my own hair. I don't think I could make a living at it, despite making pocket money for now. I don't know, I think I'd like to travel."
"There are a great many professions that include travel as part of the job." The man snagged another goblet of wine. He leaned close to whisper. "Don't mention this to anyone, but this wine is one of the only reasons I attend the same party every year. The Annual Malfoy Yule Ball is the only time they dig into the good stuff."
"They won't hear it from me. I clearly don't drink, so as far as I'm concerned, you can say you've had my share."
"That's a good lad!" He chuckled.
"If you'll excuse me," Boy said politely. "I have a promise to uphold and a loo to visit first. It was a pleasure to meet you, James."
"And to you, dear boy!"
As soon as he was a reasonable distance from everyone, he called the elf, Dobby, to show him to the loo. If he was to dance with Lady Malfoy, he'd need his brace, which wasn't something he could put on in good company. Or any, really.
Snapping the lip of the brace over, Boy kept still, then shimmied his trouser leg back into place. He had the brace anchored in place, leaving his toe slightly pointed and his knee bent a bit. He hoped it would work for a single dance, never having done it before. Either way, the pain relieving spellwork was blissfully helpful. He wished he could wear it more often.
Taking a fortifying breath, Boy headed back toward the dance floor. Throughout the night, he'd been discreetly watching some of the dances.
Naturally, there had been books on dancing in the Potter library, but reading about it and doing it were two separate worlds.
Reaching the table where the hosts were seated, Boy bolstered his confidence and held out his arm. "I did promise you a dance, Lady Malfoy.
You'll have to forgive any trodden toes, though." He gave her what he prayed was a charming smile.
Lucius smirked, covering it with his goblet.
"Such a little gentleman," she cooed, standing.
"Bear, can you stay with Lord Malfoy for a moment?" He propped his walking stick against the table. "I didn't want to embarrass either of us in front of your friends, but I really have very little experience with dancing."
"That's alright, Mr. Potter," she whispered conspiratorially. "I have enough experience with it to help you fake it."
Oh, Merlin. Dancing with an immobilized leg was not easy. He actually had to stop for a second to pop the lip of the brace down. When he told her what he'd done, she'd shifted her grip to support a bit of his weight. It made him feel silly, but it did get much easier after that. Quickly, too quickly, the song was over. He had never heard anything so pretty before. The violins were incredible! The way they changed the atmosphere in the room, bringing feelings of anticipation, elation and sadness. It was a heady thing, and he was sorry to hear it end.
"That was the most gorgeous thing I've ever heard," he said reverently. Shaking his head, he turned his focus back to Lady Malfoy. He escorted her back to her seat, then kissed the back of her hand, collected his walking stick and started to walk away when someone called him.
It was an older woman. He recognized her... she was the witch from his examination! The one that had a pheasant on her hat! Now, though, there was no pheasant. There was no hat at all. Instead, she wore a thin band of silver with delicate looking gems in brilliant blue woven into her curled hair.
"Come have a seat, Mr. Potter," she said pleasantly.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said graciously, sitting between her and Lady Malfoy. Since he was presumably going to be sitting still for a while, he snapped the lip back into place. The warm tingling was nice. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name at my exams."
"Of course," Lucius interjected politely. "Harry Potter, this is Lady Augusta Longbottom."
His brows rose in surprise. The Longbottom's were number four of the sacred twenty-eight and were a notoriously light family. To see one of them at any function held by a Malfoy was astounding. "It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Lady Longbottom."
"I hate to ask this of you, Mr. Potter, but I would like to request that my presence here not be mentioned in front of your parents." She sighed. "To keep the peace, you understand."
"Yes, of course," he agreed. It wasn't like Sir or Ma'am knew he was here either. With any luck, they would never know about either of them attending. As the night progressed, Boy began to worry less and less about Sir and Ma'am. Even if he did get caught, the memories would last, and the connections he would be able to create... It would be worth it. It didn't stop him from wishing that they didn't find out though. Nothing would stop that.
Song after beautiful song, he chatted with some impressive people. The man (who simply went by Master Belby) that invented the Wolfsbane potion, which was incredibly misleading, as the plant wolfsbane was poisonous. It wasn't even in the potion! He'd named it that because he said 'containing the beast would be the bane of the wolf'. Boy was awed. He met Elya Hawthorne, the Editor in Chief of Hermes Herald which specialized in academic advancements made by Masters in a variety of fields every month. She was a proud woman in a desirable line of work, and she knew it. Okay, she was a bit of a snot, but she kind of deserved to be. Bastien Leigalos was the biggest shock. He was the Head of Human/Creature Relations in the ministry. Oh, and he was a High Elf. Between his sharp, regal frame, his elongated ears that ended in a point and impossibly bright orange irises, it was clear he was an Elemental Elf. The orange signified a fire affinity.
Boy squashed the urge to mention Bear's fire affinity. That was his secret to keep or tell, and he didn't feel comfortable sharing someone else's information, even if it was his familiar in question. Bear knew more about him than anyone, and whether or not he retained the ability to speak, Boy knew that his secrets would be safe.
"Is your position half as exciting as it sounds?" Boy asked, fascinated.
Bastien paused to think for a moment before answering. "At times, it is quite exciting. For the majority of the time though, it is a profoundly dull position. Paperwork, meetings with stuffy old beings, too set in their ways to embrace new ideas and ideals alike. It is rewarding, despite the potential for excruciating boredom."
Boy giggled, taking a sip of some sort of juice he'd yet to identify. It was cold and tangy, and had pressed basil leaves in it. He was afraid of looking dumb, so he didn't ask what it was... even if he did want to know for future reference.
It was nearing midnight when Boy yawned for the second time. He knew he had to get back to his attic, but he didn't want the night to end! There were so many people who gave him contact information with promises of beneficial correspondence that Boy had to make notes on each one to keep them all straight!
"Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy," he said respectfully. "I have to thank you again for the invitation. Tonight was absolutely fantastic, but unfortunately I need to be going."
"Of course," Lady Malfoy said, rising from her seat. "We will walk you out." She held out her arm, but for Boy rather than her husband.
They had to switch sides so that he could still use his walking stick, but they made it work.
As they strode through the ballroom, they were stopped several times so that they could say goodbye properly.
Boy had shaken so many hands that he eventually had to hook his walking stick over his arm, just to keep a free hand!
"You've made quite an impression, Mr. Potter," Lady Malfoy told him as they entered the sitting room. "I believe that you will be the topic of countless conversations over the near future."
"Absolutely," Lucius agreed. "You have impressed a great many people, all of whom are influential in their own fields. That is quite a feat."
Boy blushed darkly, fiddling with his hands. "Oh! I nearly forgot!" He dug the three small packages out of his pocket, careful not to misplace any of the business cards he'd acquired.
He handed the longer one to Lady Malfoy, but hesitated with Lucius'.
"Oh, Harry, it's gorgeous!" She exclaimed, eyeing the broach. It was a mother of pearl hibiscus adorned with tiny pearls on the center and had thin slivers of jade for the leaves.
Boy was relieved she liked it. It wasn't one that the jeweller had pointed out. He hadn't wanted to get her a gift that she had already seen and chosen.
"Um, Lucius..." Boy began uncertainly. "I've got yours here too, but it isn't as expensive as Lady Malfoy's or Draco's."
Lucius just smiled. "Harry, when someone is as wealthy as either of our families are, expensive gifts don't quite mean as much. Do they?"
Boy shook his head, not really knowing, and flung himself forward. He wrapped his arms around the man's middle and was ecstatic to feel the embrace returned. "I got this for you so that no one else can break your nice one." He let go and gave Lucius the little box. He handed Draco's to Lady Malfoy.
Upon opening it, Lucius chuckled warmly. He pulled out the simple pocket watch and knelt down to Boy's level. "That was incredibly thoughtful, Harry. Thank you."
Boy hugged them both and stepped into the floo, waving goodbye.