jharad17 - Whelp

"Lucius." Father inclined his head. "So good of you to come."

"Of course." Mister Malfoy looked at Harry then, and he couldn't help but take a step back. His knees ran up against the settee, and he used it for balance. "We meet again, Harry."

"Good afternoon, sir. It's very nice to see you."

"I'm sure." Mister Malfoy turned when the Floo made another whooshing sound and Draco tumbled out.

Instead of falling, like Harry often did, though, Draco caught himself and kept his feet. He grinned at Harry till he caught sight of his own father's face, at which point he straightened up even more and held his head high. "Uncle Sev. Thank you for inviting me to stay with you."

Father inclined his head again. "You're welcome. You can put your belongings in the room at the end of the hall. Harry, if you would show Draco to your room? And mind your hand!"

"Yes, Father!" Harry jumped forward and skirted around Draco's father, then grabbed one end of the trunk so they could drag it down the hallway. "Right down here, Draco!"

Draco took up the other end and the two of them hurried out of the sitting room. "It's small, isn't it?" Draco said, when Harry opened the door to his room and stepped inside.

Harry shrugged, feeling a little worried in his tummy. Would Draco not want to be his friend, if his room wasn't as big? It was loads bigger than his cupboard was, and even bigger than Dudley's main bedroom, but he had to admit that Draco's room had been loads bigger than this. "It's big enough for me."

"I guess." Draco looked around. "We're meant to share?"

Harry nodded unhappily at Draco's tone.

"Well, which bed is mine then?"

"That one," Harry said, pointing. "Father said you could choose your own dec'rations if you want something different."

Draco nodded and threw himself onto the bed. "Not bad. I guess I can get used to it. I'll want more pillows, though." He looked around again. "Where are all your toys? Do you have a play room?"

Harry's mouth opened and then he shut it, uncomfortably reminded of Dudley and his two bedrooms. Draco's room had been filled with toys, he remembered. Had there been even more, in another room? Harry could hardly even imagine it. "These are my toys. I've got dragons, see?"

"Mm-hm. Where's your broom?"

Harry sighed, knowing he was about to be laughed at for being a baby, and helpless to do anything about it. He'd wanted Draco to visit, but he hadn't counted on it being like this. Pointing to the corner, he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable jeers.

But when he heard nothing after another minute or two, he cautiously opened his eyes. Draco was standing by the broom, and his own lip was between his teeth as he watched Harry. "I had one like this, too. Till my birthday." He shrugged. "It's not really a baby's broom."

Harry gave him a tentative smile. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all. "Hey, Draco, d'you want to meet a giant?"

Draco's eyes widened, all traces of bragging gone. "Sure!"

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TBC . . .with more Hagrid, more Draco, and the continuing antics of seven-year-olds at Hogwarts. . . .

A/N:Thanks, as always, to all who read and/or review. You're my chocolate mousse, my inspiration, and my slave dri . . . er, that is, you're my very nice, friendly encouragement squad. :-) Next chapter by Wednesday.

*Chapter 21*: Chapter 21

Whelp -- Chapter 21

By jharad17

Disclaimer:None of this is mine. Honest. She's rich, I'm not.

A/Nat end.

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"Father! Can we go--" Harry ran out into the sitting room, and came skidding to a stop when he saw Mr. Malfoy was still there. The tall man with pale, silvery hair was standing face to face with Father, and neither of them looked happy. Both of them turned to stare at Harry, who stepped back.

"What is it, Harry?" Father asked. His tone was cool, but his eyes weren't angry, like they could be.

"I . . . er . . ."

"What is it? Speak up, boy!" Mr. Malfoy snapped.

The words made Harry feel dizzy, and he shook his head to try and clear it. When the man took a step towards him, his sliver tipped cane flashed in the firelight, and Harry fled, back down the hall to his room.

He was dimly aware of his father calling his name, but his own breaths were coming too loud to hear more than that. In his room, he ducked behind his bed and wormed his way underneath, taking comfort from the small, cramped space. Almost like his cupboard, it was, and no one could get him here.

"Harry?" It was a new voice, and it took him a minute to realize it was Draco, and then, only because he could see Draco's pointed face at the edge of the bed, where he crouched down. "What're you doing under there? I thought we were going to go see a giant."

Shaking his head, Harry curled in on himself, making as small a ball as he could.

"Uncle Sev!" Draco called, and his face disappeared. "Come'ere! Something's wrong with Harry."

"Draco. Lower your voice. Only hooligans shout." Several sets of footsteps entered the small room, but the voice was Mr. Malfoy's, and Harry shivered as the man came closer.

"Yes, Father." Draco paused, then, "But Harry's under the bed, Uncle Sev. Like he's hiding. Is it a game?"

"Yes, Draco. . . . Why don't you and your father wait for us in the sitting room. We will be out shortly."

The footsteps retreated, but one set paused, and Harry could hear Mr. Malfoy say something very softly, and though he couldn't actually hear what was said, the man's threatening tone made him tremble and bite his lip to keep himself quiet. Then that set of footsteps went away, down the hall, too, and it was quiet once more.

Harry drew a shuddering breath, then coughed as he inhaled some dust. His eyes itched and he rubbed at them until he sensed someone nearby. His father knelt beside the bed.

"Harry," Father said, very softly. He was hunched over on the floor, and his bent nose and dark eyes were all Harry could see of him, through the black curtain of his hair. "Come on out, now. No one's going to hurt you."

"C-cane," Harry whispered.

"Mister Malfoy will never, ever use that cane on you. Never . I won't let him. Do you hear me?"

Harry's breath hitched and he nodded. "Yes, sir."

"All right then." Father put out his hand, and after a long moment, Harry took it and let his father pull him out from under the bed. "Good thing you were in play clothes." Father lightly brushed at some of the dust that clung to Harry's shirt.

"Yes, sir," Harry said, staring at his shoes.

"Harry," Father murmured, and Harry chanced a look at him, to see sadness and hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry, sir. I mean, sorry . . . Father."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Remember what I said about not apologizing for things that aren't your fault?"

Harry nodded and rubbed at his itchy eyes again, and startled when Father's long, slender fingers tucked under his chin and lifted his head. He tried to look away, but Father just waited until Harry, lip still firmly in his teeth, met his gaze. Father raised one eyebrow, and Harry mumbled, "Yes, si -- Father. I remember."

"Good. Now. You had a question for me?"

"Yes, Father." He wasn't sure he wanted to ask now, but Father was waiting. His words came out in a rush, "CanmeandDracogodowntoseeHagridagain?"

"Slower, and more distinctly."

"Sorry, sir. Can me and Draco go see Hagrid today?"

"You and Draco may go visit Hagrid, yes. But only with supervision, such as myself, or Nelli. I don't want you running about outside with that hand. Understood?"

"Yes, sir! Thank you!"

Father let go of his chin and put a hand on his shoulder instead, and his face was very serious. "And if you have any trouble . . . any trouble at all, with Draco or your hand, or anything else, you come right back here and I will sort it out."