Harry Potter The Long Lost Malfoy

"I think he wants to take me back and make me be a Potter again."

Draco sat up so rapidly he almost fell off the bed. "I didn't even think about that!" he exclaimed, and leaped to his feet and started pacing back and forth. "Shit. What if that means that he's going to Memory Charm you to forget you're a Malfoy and reinstate the glamours? Then you wouldn't even know you used to be part of our family!"

"Do you think that's worse than me being killed?" Harry asked, a little entertained at the way Draco was phrasing it.

That entertainment ended when Draco turned around. His face was grim and pale, and he came around the foot of their beds and squeezed Harry's hand.

"Not worse," he said. "But it's terrible that we lost you. It would be terrible if we lost you again just as we found you, and if Black managed to convince you that you were really Harry Potter, so that you didn't even want to come back." Draco abruptly bit his lip, and looked for a second the way he had when Ron had accidentally let it slip that Harry was abused. "I don't want to lose you, Henry."

Harry was terrible at this. He'd never had a brother. But he did manage to wrap an arm around Draco and hold him for a second, before he let Draco go and punched him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"I don't want to lose you either, git."

Draco sniffed. "Do you hate star and constellation names so much that you won't even speak mine?"

"I just think 'git' suits you better."

That led to a shoving match that made Harry feel better, especially when Draco didn't try to follow him to the bathroom next time.

...

"Um. Wow, mate."

Harry nodded and smiled anxiously at Ron and Hermione, who had walked through the front door of Malfoy Manor and then stopped and were staring around. "I know, it's weird, isn't it? So huge."

It had taken some complicated negotiations, but in the end, Healer Letham—once Harry was allowed to visit her again—had helped him figure out ways to ask for his friends to come over. The Weasleys had given their permission, although reluctantly, and Hermione's parents had done it happily. Harry didn't think they really knew much difference between one wizarding destination and another.

It was Hermione herself who had been the challenge, and she held herself stiffly, warily, as Draco came around the corner into the entrance hall.

But Draco only nodded to them all, his face perfectly neutral, and glanced at Harry. "Henry, that elf of yours is in the silver drawing room. I think he'll lose his mind if you don't let him feed the three of you something."

And Draco turned and walked away. Harry let out a long, shivering sigh. It had been a week since the kidnapping attempt, and the Malfoys had finally agreed to let him spend time by himself—or by himself with his friends. Harry knew them well enough to be sure that they were watching from a distance with spying spells, but that was at least an improvement over "right in his face."

"You have your own house-elf?"

Ron sounded as though he didn't know whether to be jealous or not. Harry laughed. "Yeah, it's a long story. Come on, I'll tell you."

Hermione gasped and squealed when she saw Dobby, and then reached out a hand. "How do you do? I'm Hermione Granger."

Dobby stared at her with his mouth open, and then began to wail. "Dobby has never been asked to shake hands before!"

Hermione grabbed his hand before Dobby could pull it back and shook it once, then turned and looked hard at Harry while Harry waved at Dobby to bring in the food he'd obviously been slaving over. Dobby vanished. "Harry! You never offered to shake his hand?"

"I was a little busy saving him from living in a dark, cold place off the kitchens," Harry said dryly as he watched Dobby pop in with covered dishes, steaming bowls of soup, treacle tart, cups of hot chocolate, mugs of what might be cider…Harry sighed. There was far more food than any of them would ever be able to eat, weighing down a suddenly-appearing table that ran along the wall next to the fireplace. "The Malfoys treat their house-elves pretty badly."

"Look at all this!" Ron grinned and reached for the nearest bowl of soup, which looked like some kind of creamy potato version. "Thanks, Dobby! This is amazing!"

Dobby muffled his sobs when Harry nodded to him, and then vanished. Harry sat down in the chair nearest to the table and reached for a bowl of soup of his own. It really did taste creamy and wonderful.

"Harry. I'm waiting."

Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione. "Like I said, I was saving him. The Malfoys tried to keep him concealed from me. Dobby was the house-elf who came last summer when I was still living with my rela—the Dursleys. The house-elf who was keeping my post and got me in trouble by floating that cake, remember?"

"I remember!" Ron shook his head and swallowed. "Merlin, that's weird, mate, but it sounds like it all worked out in the end." He reached for bread and marmalade.

"The house-elf who was being treated terribly and made to punish himself by his family?"

....

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