Harry's eyes widened and his heartbeat rocketed.
In the space of two seconds he discovered the familiar warmth of his wand under the pillow. He let relief wash over him.
His nose wrinkled at the whiff of sex and an unusual aftershave, and he fumbled for his glasses.
A note had been tucked beside them:
I'm at work and will arrive home for lunch by one o'clock.
Remember your notebook.
Love you always,
D
What the actual fuck?
"Homenum Revelio," he murmured.
He was alone.
The large bedroom had whitewashed walls and round friezes on the ceiling. He was in a sumptuous four-poster bed with soft purple sheets.
Naked, Harry went over to the floor-to-ceiling shutters, feet sinking in the plush carpet.
His eyes widened, and his jaw fell when he caught sight of the view.
There was a striking vista of nodding sunflowers, their faces staring like a crowd of children. At his touch, the glass door creaked open, and he peered around to confirm that the area was deserted. He stepped out, entranced, but then scrunched up his nose when he trod barefoot onto crushed blackberries and cigarette butts.
This was not his house.
The morning only got stranger when he saw someone had organised the clothing by colour. Overwhelmed, he chose something at random. He put on some silky pants and oddly familiar jogging bottoms, then grabbed someone's dressing gown from a hook beside the door. A little embroidered dragon yawned.
In the hallway, a candelabra sprang to life and illuminated a gloomy painting of giant silver horses that grazed by a pond as their tails swished. Beside it hung a framed photograph.
Mouth open, he approached, with his wand at the ready. His photograph-self nuzzled and smiled into the cheek of Draco Malfoy.
Malfoy, with his sleek, coiffed platinum hair. Malfoy, whose lips twitched in a hesitant smile. Malfoy, grey eyes blinking down and crinkling at the corners, in unmistakable fondness at photo-Harry.
What the ever-loving fuck.
"Put that away and don't do anything stupid," a female voice said.
He whirled around to find a portrait of a gaunt young woman whose gaze was fixed on her embroidery.
With narrowed eyes, he aimed his wand at her instead. "Who are you? What's going on?"
"Your notes are in the parlour," she droned. "I'll deal with your questions once you've studied them."
Down the corridor was a spacious reception room. It smelt of pine and had a massive stone fireplace. A radio stood on the mantelpiece beneath a grand scrolled mirror, a bookcase overflowed with books and scrolls, and the remnants of a takeaway littered a coffee table in front of the squashy sofa. Boiling an Egg and Other Useful Skills lay on the side.
His shoulders relaxed at the sight of a fluffy, sullen-faced grey cat who dozed on an armchair. A kidnapper wouldn't leave their pet, or a wand under his pillow.
Disturbed by Harry's presence, it yawned and blinked at him with orange eyes.
He pointed his wand to cast the Animagus Reversal Spell. There was no blue light.
"Hello." Harry scratched its head.
It purred, then trotted through an archway to the kitchen, tail held high. He followed and grabbed an overfilled purple notebook from the table on the way.
Everything was grey and white. On the wall hung a grubby portrait of warlocks with tankards of mead and roast pheasant.
His stomach growled and he yearned to dive through the cupboards. But his priority was to find out what the hell was going on.
The cat yowled.
"What? Are you hungry?"
Tail swishing, it rubbed its cheek on a sign beside the bare food bowl:
OF COURSE I HAVE BEEN FED; I AM AN ACCOMPLISHED LIAR
Right. That settled it, then.
He sat on the cool tiles and rubbed behind the cat's ears whilst he looked through the notebook.
It was full of Spellotaped photographs and sketches. Underneath them were brief notes in his own handwriting.
Trust Narcissa. (She is not your mother) (or an angel)
Draco – Healer. You can trust Draco --> Boyfriend.
Hagrid – half-giant, good advice, dodge his biscuits
Hermione – Nice lady. Good at paper aeroplanes. Friend for a long time. Married to RON WEASLEY. Enjoys books, research, chatting. Has 2 children. ROSE, HUGO
Ron – nice fellow. Likes C. Cannons (find out why). Works at JOKE SHOP
Mr and Mrs Weasley – You can trust them. Gave you the watch.
Ginny – ex-wife, v. good friend. Quidditch reporter. Obsessed with brooms
Albus Severus – SON. Close friend of Scorpius (Draco's son)
Scorpius Hyperion – DRACO'S SON
Butter – big, grey, lazy
Astoria – nice lady. Hangs in the East Parlour
Sally-Anne – your colleague, likes Pumpkin Pasties. Obsessed with W. Sisters.
Luna – interesting woman, poss from another planet ?
Neville – lopped off Nagini's head with the Sword of Gryffindor. Good bloke
Don't trust Blue
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death.
Something was very, very wrong with his brain. Perhaps this was an alternate reality, or a bad joke. Or maybe he'd died.
A page in the middle was written in an elegant script and bordered by a sketch of a snake eating its own head. How lovely.
General Life Advice if your name is Harry 'Hopeless' Potter
Don't Open Any Packages – Wait For Draco
Sleep through as much of the morning as you can. Things will make sense later
Forgive and forget
Don't use Legilimency on people unless you tell them – rude, illegal, et cetera
Dates of birth of your family – in the back
Write in this sodding book otherwise what's the point?
Keep your wand on you – but NOT in your back pocket
for the love of Godric don't touch magical artefacts
Solve et Coagula
He baulked at:
If anything happens to me, get Draco Malfoy in St Mungo's to sort me out. I trust Draco.
"Blue?"
The cat's ears pricked up.
"Well," he told the cat, "that's one mystery solved."
****
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Heaven Through a Window • Drarry •
FanfictionLife is going swimmingly for Draco: he's a respected Healer, his son is excellent in every way, and none of his patients have died recently. Then he gets landed with Perfect Potter and his hordes of stupid friends. It's intolerable. But the more tim...
