Harry Potter The Long Lost Malfoy

Healer Letham's smile was slow in coming, but like dawn when it did. "Good. I think you're right. He wants you whole-heartedly as his son, Harry, and while I imagine that he also wishes things were different, he is committed to trying to make you more comfortable."

"Do you think I could ask him to leave Sirius alone—no."

"No," Healer Letham echoed. "Do not seek to change your father's core, Harry. Instead, work on understanding him, and helping him understand you. If you would find his revenge unforgivable, tell him so. I'm sure he would forego it and choose something else if he knew getting Black's soul eaten would mean losing you."

Harry was quiet.

"Harry?"

Harry licked his lips and said slowly, "I feel horrible for saying this, because Sirius didn't deserve to be sent to Azkaban for what they thought he did, but he tried to kidnap me again this summer. He might have deserved to be sent there for taking me. And part of me—part of me feels that I would be safest if he was dead."

"And yet another part of you feels horrible for thinking like that. Because he has had his sanity restored and might not want to kidnap you anymore."

Harry shut his eyes and nodded.

Healer Letham sighed. "I wish there was some other way I could make your burdens easier. But as you said of yourself, I would always rather know the truth than not know it. Please continue to discuss it with me."

Harry gave her a shaky smile, and their talk turned to other things.

....

"Henry."

If Harry thought his mother had hugged him hard before he left for Hogwarts, it was nothing compared to what she did now. Her arms locked around him as if they were a cage, and Harry held onto her and tried not to think about the woman he'd heard screaming when the Dementor had come near.

"Over here, son."

His father was sitting at a table in the middle of the private room they'd been granted at a small restaurant called the Silver Swan, which was apparently a few streets down from the small parts of Hogsmeade Harry had seen when he was reading the carriages to the school. The room was dazzlingly silver, everything gleaming as if made of metal, even the wood their chairs were made of. But they were perfectly comfortable when Harry sat on his, and the napkins were soft and sliding like velvet in his hand.

"What would you like to eat?" Mr. Malfoy asked, while Mrs. Malfoy sat down next to Harry so she could keep her arm around his shoulders.

"I don't know what they have."

"They'll serve you literally anything you ask for," said Mr. Malfoy, a trifle smugly. "That's what they're famous for. The ability to Summon the right ingredients and cook food from all over the world."

Harry's mind went a little blank. Despite his family's efforts over the summer, he honestly didn't know very much about food, and no fancy French or Italian dishes. He nibbled his lip and said the first thing that came into his mind. "Beef Wellington." It was something the Dursleys had eaten but Harry had never got to have.

"Why not?" Mrs. Malfoy said. "You should have everything you want, Henry, darling."

Harry smiled at her, and Mr. Malfoy rapped his wand against the table in what seemed to be a star-shaped pattern, making points of light flare briefly. They must have ordered already, Harry thought, or someone was listening to them, because no one said anything or confirmed their order.

Mr. Malfoy put his wand away, and turned to Harry. "I have secured tutoring in the Patronus Charm for you."

Harry felt his mouth fall open a little. "You think I can master it?" he had to ask. "Even though I'm just thirteen?"

"You have a strong will and a determined intelligence," Mr. Malfoy said. "And it requires happy memories. I hope we have managed to give you enough of those that drawing on them will be easier than it might have been a year ago."

"And you are our son," his mother said, her voice soft with adoration. "Yes, we think you can do it."

"All right," Harry said. "But am I going to be leaving the school for it? And will Draco and Ron and Hermione be able to learn, too?"

"Draco has expressed a desire to learn, and will," Mr. Malfoy said firmly. "I will pay more to the tutor if she agrees to take on your friends. I must ask her if she will. Keep in mind that, if you learn well enough, you may also be able to teach the spell to your friends if your tutor doesn't agree. The lessons will be at the school."

"Thanks." Harry fiddled with his napkin. "Professor Lupin keeps talking about wanting to teach me the Patronus."

Mr. Malfoy didn't actually leap out of his seat and march over to Hogwarts to kill Professor Lupin, but Harry had the feeling that he would have liked to. "You will not be doing that," he said.

Harry took a single angry breath, and then bit it back. He was still getting used to having parents. The Dursleys would have tried to forbid him from learning the Patronus Charm, sure, but the Dursleys also wouldn't have found a tutor who could teach him.

"Okay," he said.

"Good," said Mrs. Malfoy, still not taking her arm from around Harry's shoulders, as their food popped onto the table in front of them. "Now, tell us how you're getting along with your other professors who didn't used to be best friends with your kidnapper.

....

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