khaari @flakypuffpastry - Tumblr Blog

Foundling

"That will do."

The buzz of chatter died instantly as Malfoy swept into the room. Whether he saw Harry standing there at the very back of the classroom or not, Malfoy gave no indication. He put down the stack of parchment he carried and plucked his wand out from behind his ear.

"I've graded the homework you handed in on Friday," Malfoy said, his voice barely heard at all. "I really do wonder whether those who write an essay without reading the subject material first think I can't tell? Miss Collins, come hand these out, please."

Sitting down behind his desk, Malfoy proceeded to open the attendance register and call out each student's name, glancing up each time.

"And where is Mr. Hinkly?" he asked when a girl raised her hand instead.

"In the hospital wing," the girl said. "He ate a poisonous toadstool."

Malfoy blinked. "How come?"

"Um. He was dared to."

At this point, Malfoy looked up and straight into Harry's eyes. Then he gave a little shake of his head as if it was Harry who had been stupid enough to eat a poinsonous toadstool on a dare.

Shutting his register and getting to his feet, Malfoy rapped the blackboard with his wand. Graceful, cursive writing appeared on the board.

"Rather aptly, we're going to be brewing Essence of Insanity this week," he drawled. "At sixteen, I'm sure none of you needs to be told not to drink this potion - even on a dare." Once again, Malfoy threw Harry that look of derision.

Harry realised he was scowling back at Malfoy, automatically crossing his arms and spreading his stance, assuming the same posture of intimidation he did while standing across from a suspect in the interrogation room.

"...and the ingredients are in the store cupboard as usual," Malfoy was saying. "This potion, if you do exactly as instructed, will take three classes to brew. You will hand in your samples on Friday. I want you all to make notes as you brew, especially if you do something incorrectly. If the mistake can be rectified, I will instruct you on how. If not, you will start over and come in during your free hours to make up for time lost so you can hand in your sample on time on Friday. As always, I expect nothing but your best work. You may begin."

Harry watched, quietly fascinated, as the students immediately set about their work with an air of reverent keenness that Harry had never felt in Snape's classes. Almost nobody spoke at all as cauldrons were set up, ingredients were procured, knives were sharpened and quills loaded.

The hem of his cloak sweeping the floor, Malfoy walked around the classroom, hands clasped neatly behind his back, with none of the malevolence and balefulness of Snape. His students were clearly quite unafraid of him; in fact, most of them seemed quite breathlessly deferential towards him.

Malfoy reached the student closest to where Harry stood, peering down at her chopping board.

"Good. Try chopping them a bit finer. And don't use the green part of the root."

Harry fully expected Malfoy to just ignore him and continue strolling through the classroom. But Malfoy looked up, and then just stood there, staring at Harry.

Harry nodded once. When Malfoy didn't nod back, he said, "I assume you received an owl from the Ministry? Explaining why I'm here?"

"Safe to assume I did," Malfoy said. "Or I'd have asked you to leave."

"Yeah, well, you weren't at breakfast," Harry said, scowling again. "That's when we were supposed to go over the brief for this week."

"You're tailing me around the school for a week to vet that I'm not secretly murdering or torturing anyone, yes?" said Malfoy, and the girl sitting there looked up, startled.

Harry's scowl deepened. "We'll discuss it after class."

"I'm teaching all through the morning up until lunch."

"Well, at lunch, then."

With a curt nod, Malfoy swept away.

~

Three days later, Harry was completely, without a doubt, certain, that Malfoy was upto something.

For fifteen hours a day, Harry tailed him. He followed him from breakfast to class to lunch to the staffroom; on his walks around the grounds and his visits to Hogsmeade. They had, twice, sat at the same table at The Three Broomsticks along with some of the other staff. They sat side by side at the staff table in the Great Hall during mealtimes. Harry had even conducted a very thorough search of Malfoy's personal quarters in the dungeons.

Absolutely nothing Malfoy did seemed out of place or worthy of suspicion, leave alone investigation. But Harry's intuition claimed otherwise.

Malfoy was a dedicated, patient, and surprisingly engaging teacher. His approach seemed to alter with the age of his students: with the first years, he was patient to a fault and quite lively. With the second, third, and fourth years, he commanded unwavering attention and constantly stressed the importance of minding every single instruction on the board. From the fifth, sixth, and seventh years, he tolerated nothing short of perfection.

Every single one of Malfoy's students seemed to be in awe of him. They hung on to his every word, preened when he rewarded them for a job well done, and looked genuinely ashamed when he expressed disappointment.

The other staff members seemed completely at ease around him, too. Malfoy rarely sat in his own office, preferring to grade homework and take his tea breaks in the common staffroom instead. He seemed closest to Professor Sinistra, and the two of them often read the day's Prophet together over their tea.

Malfoy was so normal and... nice. Why the hell was he nice now? And why the hell were none of the other staff members suspicious of him? Clearly, he was up to something.

Harry was extra irritated because on top of everything else Malfoy was very handsome and seemed pleasant towards almost everybody except Harry. So clearly he still hated Harry. The only explanation for this was that Malfoy was up to something nefarious.

Harry had tried reporting this to McGonagall. He'd been to her office every evening after seeing Malfoy off at the entrance to his quarters. He was writing his report for the Ministry, of course, but he wanted McGonagall to see what nobody else could.

"Nonsense, Potter," MCGonagall had said crisply when Harry had expressed his doubts. "Professor Malfoy is one of the most popular teachers in the school. Now, I know you're here doing your job on the Ministry's orders, but that hardly means you revert to behaving as you did when you were a student yourself."

Harry had just sat there feeling as though he'd been slapped.

"He's definitely up to something, Professor!"

"You follow him everywhere?"

"Yes."

"You've searched his quarters?"

"Yes."

"Have you found anything?"

"No, but--"

"Go to bed, Potter, it's another long day tomorrow."

Harry had gnashed his teeth and stomped off, wishing Hagrid weren't in France. Hagrid would have believed Harry. Maybe.

He had taken to staring at Malfoy's dot on the Marauders Map until he fell asleep every night. The sense of déjà vu was unsettling to say the least.

"Morning, Potter," Malfoy greeted him at breakfast on Thursday. "You don't look like you had a very restful night," he added, briskly buttering his toast. The tip of Malfoy's nose was pink, as were his lips.

Harry just glared at him and then poured himself a heaping mugful of coffee. "Whatever, Malfoy."

"You're determined to uncover something unappealing about me, aren't you?" Malfoy asked pleasantly, shaking his head lightly so that his hair slipped onto his face and caught in his pale lashes.

"I'm determined to uncover the truth, yes," Harry said, staring steadily through the brightness radiating from Malfoy.

"What an exciting prospect," Malfoy drawled idly, sipping tea, and turning back to the day's Prophet that was propped up, folded, against a jug of pumpkin juice.

That morning, Harry was in for yet another surprise. After putting up the ingredient list and instructions for a Wiggenweld Potion on the board, Malfoy clapped his hands and, to the great delight of the gathered first years, asked if they would all like to spend the first hour of the lesson collecting Moly and Wiggentree Bark for their potion from the school grounds.

It was a chilly November morning but there was still some sun as Malfoy led the group of tiny first years, stumbling over the hems of their robes, each clutching a little wicker basket and chattering excitedly, across the dew drenched grounds. Harry brought up the rear, his eyes never leaving the back of Malfoy's stupid, shiny head.

When Malfoy matter-of-factly walked into the Forest, the students didn't even pause or hesitate before following him. Drawing his wand, Harry went in after them.

There was a great deal of shouting and excited pointing as Malfoy stopped every now and then to point out a familiar potion ingredient. Whenever he asked a question, most of the students would jump up and down with an arm in the air.

They found Moly flowers and Wiggentree Bark after about fifteen minutes of wandering around. They were barely inside the Forest at all, and the trees grew far apart, letting sunlight filter in and dapple on their hair and faces. Malfoy reminded everyone to put on their gloves before touching anything, and then went around with a pair of clippers, helping the students collect their ingredients.

Harry stood leaning against a tree and watched Malfoy. He was soft spoken and kind and showed a fair amount of interest when a student pointed to something or asked a question. He did not, for one instant, remind Harry of the person he had hated for so long.

Malfoy himself was plucking and clipping up a variety of roots, berries, leaves and soft barks into his own basket, and after about ten minutes of foraging, he called the students to attention and announced that it was time to head back to class.

Overall, it was a very happy bunch of first years that trooped out of the dungeon an hour later. Ignoring Harry, Malfoy went around from desk to desk, Vanishing the contents of each student's cauldron and setting up the tables for his next class.

"So, you love your job," Harry blurted abruptly.

Malfoy smirked at him. "Are you very shocked?"

"Sceptical, more like."

Malfoy laughed, his eyes dancing. "What, you think I'm pretending to love my job while I secretly practice the Dark Arts and torture my students and poison my coworkers?"

Harry didn't answer immediately. "You're up to something, Malfoy. I can tell."

Malfoy stood up very straight, his nostrils flaring. "Very well. You can go ahead and prove it, then."

"I will."

~

Friday was the last day of Harry's mission. He was to head back to London after breakfast on Saturday, take the rest of the weekend off and hand in the report on Malfoy's activities on Monday.

It was all part of an ongoing, Ministry-conducted survey of exonerated/ex Death Eaters. Harry had put in a special request for Malfoy's file. It wasn't that he had hoped to find something bad, but then he supposed old habits died hard.

After dinner on Friday, he watched Malfoy disappear into his room with a feeling close to sadness. What he wasn't sure about was whether the sadness stemmed from not having found something terrible about Malfoy, or from the prospect of not seeing Malfoy again for who knew how long.

He went up to his room, and without undressing or getting ready for bed, he sat in the armchair by the fireplace with the Marauders Map. Malfoy's dot was firmly in place within his quarters. Harry huffed a sigh, pulled a quilt over his shoulders and waited.

He dozed off without meaning to and at just past 4AM he grunted himself awake. Scrambling up, he pushed his glasses back into place and peered into the Map.

It was as if an alarm bell had woken him up because even as Harry watched, Malfoy's dot exited his quarters. Heart now pounding, Harry sat up straight and watched as Malfoy steadily made his way up to the Entrance Hall and then out the main doors.

Harry ran to his trunk, flipped it open and yanked out his Invisibility Cloak. He threw it on as he ran out the door. Wand in one hand and Map in the other, Harry raced downstairs, thumping silently across the Entrance Hall and out into the freezing night.

Malfoy was almost at the edge of the Forbidden Forest by now and Harry flat out sprinted across the grounds after him. The moon slid in and out of clouds and owls swooped overhead, eagerly hunting for dinner.

Reaching the edge of the Forest, Harry slowed down, gasping for breath. Malfoy wasn't very deep inside the Forest yet and was moving very slowly. Harry lit his wand and made his way inside until he was close enough to hear movement.

"Nox," he whispered, as he neared a clearing and heard Malfoy's soft voice, along with another sound.

It was a sort of weak cry, rather like bleating or neighing; it sounded infantile.

"I know," Malfoy was saying, as the small cries grew longer. "It's sad she isn't here. But you've still got me."

Harry inched closer, stepping upto a gigantic oak for cover and then peeking around it.

Malfoy was in a small clearing with several enchanted lanterns lit up and flaoting all around him. He was standing in the centre of the clearing and seemed to be speaking to someone or something that was below knee level.

The tiny, helpless cries sounded again and Malfoy sighed.

"We should head back," he said firmly.

Stepping forward, Malfoy bent down to scoop something up into his arms. When he turned, the lights from the floating lanterns fell squarely on him, tall and cloaked, holding a...

Harry's mouth fell open.

It was a baby unicorn. Pure gold with a star on its forehead where its horn would eventually grow, the foal was absolutely exquisite. It was also very, very small - much smaller than the ones Professor Grubbly-Plank had showed them in fifth year. Quivering in Malfoy's arms, it emitted another one of its piteous cries and Malfoy shushed it gently.

Harry held his breath as Malfoy walked past him, following him after a safe minute or so. Malfoy's lanters had vanished but he had his wand lit for which Harry was grateful. As it is Harry stepped on a fallen branch, freezing as Malfoy looked around wildly, straight through Harry, his face oddly hopeful.

Harry waited until they were back in the castle and just as Malfoy tapped the wall to his room open, Harry stepped out from under the Cloak and said quietly, "Seriously, Malfoy?"

With a gasp, Malfoy spun around, panic in his eyes for all of three seconds until he registered Harry's presence, at which point he simply scowled, clutching his chest.

"Potter, what the hell?"

"A baby unicorn? That's low even for you."

Malfoy looked thoroughly confused. "Why is it low?" When Harry just shook his head, he looked down at the foal in bewilderment and said, "Wait, what do you think I'm doing here?"

"That's what I was going to ask you. I mean, killing grown unicorns is one thing..."

"Killing?!"

"...but to fuck around with an actual baby..."

"'Fuck around'?"

"A highly protected, Class XXXX creature--"

"Potter. Shut up!"

Harry shut up, his mouth still open in speech. Malfoy then sighed, and turned around saying, "You'd better come inside before my bones turn to ice."

The inside of Malfoy's rooms were wonderfully warm and glowed softly golden. As soon as the door slid shut behind Harry, Malfoy set the little foal down. Together they watched it cross the room on shaky little legs and curl up on a large, satiny bed in front of the fire.

Malfoy unclipped his cloak and hung it up before heading for the little tea station he had by his desk. Without speaking, he put together two cups of tea and brought them to a round, spindly little table by the fire. He sank into one of the two armchairs and huffed out another mighty sigh.

"You genuinely believe I'd hurt a wee little thing like this?" he asked quietly. Harry watched as Malfoy bent down and ran a gentle hand over the bright gold foal.

"Well, you're a potioneer and unicorns are highly sought after for their--"

"Potter. Enough." Malfoy looked tired. "Please stop. I've tolerated the way you've glared at me all week, waiting for me to cross some invisible line you'd drawn as a test, but please- just stop now."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he walked over and sat down opposite Malfoy.

"She was abandoned," Malfoy said, waving a hand at the foal. "I found her two weeks ago, and stayed with her nearly three hours in the Forest but none of the other unicorns came to claim her. I finally brought her up to the castle and hid her here because I didn't want her prodded and poked at. Every few days, I take her back to where I found her and wait to see if her calls are answered. No luck so far."

"What do you think happened to the mother?"

"I don't know," Malfoy sighed. "I just hope the poor thing hasn't died. I collected some of the baby's fallen fur and rubbed them around on the trees, hoping the scent will draw the mother back."

"What about food?"

"Oh, they're very easy to feed. Berries and roots and all sorts. They're herbivores and survive on things found very easily in the Forest."

"Where did you put her when I was in here for my search on Tuesday?"

Malfoy's lip quivered at the edges. "Under my unwashed laundry. Sleeping."

Malfoy seemed so...innocuous. Harry just sat there feeling as though he'd swallowed a whole flagon of Butterbeer. Warmth spread from his chest to his frozen fingertips, and in the soft light from the fire and lamps, Malfoy suddenly looked painfully beautiful.

"I'm sorry," Harry found himself saying, taking himself by surprise.

Malfoy looked as surprised as Harry felt.

"I'm sorry I've been trying to catch you out all week," Harry said. "I suppose I haven't grown up much over the past decade."

Malfoy smiled; he actually smiled. It was a knowing sort of smile with a gleam of amusement in it and Harry found himself smiling back sheepishly.

"Are you going to put this in your report?" Malfoy asked, nodding towards the now sleeping foal.

"No," Harry said. "But I do hope you find her mother. Or at any rate, find a way to look after her until...whenever."

"I'll look after her," Malfoy said softly.

"Right." Harry clutched the arms of the chair and after a moment's pause, pushed himself up. "It's almost- I should probably," he hooked a thumb at the door, "go."

"When do you go back?"

"In the morning," Harry said awkwardly. "So, you won't have someone breathing down your neck when you wake up."

Malfoy just smiled, and got to his feet.

"Good luck with your report," he said.

"Thanks," said Harry.

Harry was almost at the end of the corridor that led upstairs from the dungeons when he suddenly turned and bolted back. He tapped on the stone wall and it slid open.

Malfoy was kneeling by the foal and looked up in surprise. "Potter."

"Will you have dinner with me sometime?" Harry blurted.

Malfoy bit on his upper lip to hide a smile, gracefully rising and approaching Harry.

"Is this related to your report?"

"No," Harry mumbled. "It's just...dinner."

Malfoy held Harry's gaze for a solid beat before smiling that dazzling smile of his again. "I thought you'd never ask."

~fini~