As Harry’s somnolent mind drifted towards consciousness, the delicious scents of bacon and fried bread wafted through his open bedroom door and hung tantalisingly in the bright, morning air.

Harry’s first, happy thought, which sprung into the teenager’s mind before he had even fully awakened, was that it made a nice change to have someone cooking for breakfast for him.

Deciding that today was definitely a dressing gown day, Harry wandered over to his new wardrobe; yesterday, half asleep, he’d decided to hang up the least-worst of Dudley’s castoffs in what he assumed was an empty cupboard. Much to Harry’s surprise, he’d opened the doors to find the wardrobe practically bursting with brand new, expensive-looking clothes. The mahogany centre column was comprised of three square shelves, each packed with piles of crisply folded tee-shirts, jumpers or jeans, and a set of shallow draws underneath. On either side of this column, were rails; the left rail held beautiful, silk wizarding robes in shades of aubergine, navy and bottle green, the right an assortment of shirts and trousers. Awestruck, Harry had opened the draws, finding, within their burgundy velvet lined depths, socks, underpants, pyjamas, swimwear and, in the final, deepest draw, sparkling new trainers and a stout pair of military style boots.

Straightening up Harry had noticed, in the corner of his eye, a note, pinned to one, burgundy velvet lined, wardrobe door:

“Shopped till we dropped; never let Tom lure you into Selfridges, you may not escape!”

Overwhelmed, the teenager had traced the tiny drawing of an Arum lily and, staggered off to bed. However, Harry had, subconsciously, noticed the long, light yet snug looking dressing-gown of absinthe green linen hanging amongst the shirts and trousers. Shrugging off the ancient tee-shirt in which he usually slept, Harry slipped into the soft garment and knotted the curiously thick belt haphazardly.

When he traipsed downstairs, however, Harry entered the airy kitchen to find Tom leaning against the Aga and happy munching a bowl of porridge, whilst the meat and bread sizzled in the pan. And, sitting at the table, looking totally at home, with his own bowl of oats, was none other than Lucius Malfoy.

Green met silver but, before Harry could speak, Lucius’s eyes had panned down his chest and locked onto the knotted belt. A sound somewhere between a gasp and choke erupted in the blond man’s throat, and Harry looked on in bewilderment as Tom briskly thumped Lucius’ back, as he coughed and laughed, tears streaming from his amused silver eyes.

“Wha..?”

“Swallow first, then laugh, Luc.” Tom sighed, pulling the curtain of blond locks away from the still laughing man’s face. “I’m afraid Lucius mien often gives the false impression that he is frightfully sophisticated, Harry. However, as you can see, nothing could be further from the truth.”

“What’s so funny, though?” Harry asked, his sable eyebrows knotting. Tom straightened up, his ruby eyes glittering, and wandered over to the Aga, where he broke a couple of eggs into the pan.

His back toward Harry, Tom replied in a level voice “You’re wearing a kimono, Harry. I expect you thought it was a dressing gown?”

“Yeah?” Harry replied, his face a picture of confusion.

“Well, um, you see, there’re certain traditions” Tom paused, his breathing sharp and shallow. “The only occasion when the kimono is worn with the right side of the material on top of the left is when the person inside said kimono is a corpse.”

“Oh!” Harry replied, a flush burning across his cheeks.

“And the obi, that’s the belt, is also tied somewhat unconventionally.” Tom added “Don’t worry though, it’s not something the average English schoolboy would know. Incidentally, Lucius once came to breakfast in a cerise furisode, that’s a girl’s kimono, which a servant had accidentally left in his wardrobe. He looked very pretty.”

Lucius glared at the grinning, dark-haired patriarch “I was six!”

Tom shrugged and decanted bacon, eggs and fried bread onto a plate and placed it on the table. “Come and eat your breakfast, vampire boy.”

Smiling slightly uncertainly, Harry approached the table and sat down on the adjacent corner from Lucius, who was stirring brown sugar into his porridge.

Nibbling on a piece of bacon, Harry looked over at Lucius, who was as icily composed as ever, and then at Tom, who had sat down in the chair opposite to the teenager.

Clearing his throat, Harry spoke “Er, are Mum and, uh, Snape up yet?” “Come and gone, Harry” Tom replied airily. “It’s almost ten o’clock.”

“Sorry” Harry muttered uncomfortably.

“No problem, I prefer getting up lateish myself.” Tom replied calmly “In fact, the only reason I’m up is because Sev woke me to say that they were off to the market. They probably thought they’d be back by now.”

“Probably buying chickens or some such” Lucius smirked.

Tom sighed and threw his waterfall of raven hair back, so it skimmed the seat of his chair “Please, God, no bloody chickens.”

“What’s wrong with chickens?” Harry asked, slightly amused. “Mrs Weasley has them.”

Tom straightened up from his comically prostrate position “Lily tends to make pets of them and Severus, bless him, has a soft spot for hens.”

Noticing that Harry green eyes had widened to the width of saucers, Tom added “He thinks they’re funny.”

“Chicken droppings all over the floor and feathers everywhere.” Lucius elaborated. “And they learnt to open the larder. I’ve never seen chickens so spherical in my life.”

“At least they kept the wood-mice down.”

“Mice?” Harry asked, confused.

“Chickens hunt, Harry. The true descendant of dinosaurs!” Shaking his tousled, raven head at the strangeness of the world, Harry glopped his fried bread in the yolk of his egg. For a non-meat-eater, Tom certainly knew how to do a fry up.

“Are many people vegetarian in the wizarding world?” Harry asked, to break the slightly uncomfortable silence that had fallen between the three mages.

“Very few” Lucius replied. “The only families which are, habitually, vegetarian are those who have descended almost exclusively from herbivorous youkai.”

“Like horses?” Harry asked, a thought flitting into his brain.

“Indeed.” Lucius said, smirking at the teen's embarrassed flush. “I eat grains, vegetables and dairy products but I have to be careful with fruit and I’m not fond of eggs unless they’re used in baking.”

“And, of course, sugar lumps” Tom added, a mischievous grin quirking at the corner of his mouth as he sipped his orange juice.

Silver eyes disapproving, Lucius snorted, and looked away haughtily.

Harry sighed. Everything was so confusing at the moment. Since his first encounter with the icy, sophisticated and downright dangerous Mr Malfoy, Harry had regarded him with something akin to awe. Sure, he was never one not to tweak the tigers’ tail if necessary but he’d always understood that, in the grand scheme of things, the man was definitely a tiger.

Now, however, it was quite frankly odd to see this other, more human side of him. To realise that under all that controlled arrogance and cold beauty, he was just a man. Albeit one with some rather equine traits, now that Harry came to think about it.

While Tom and Lucius appeared content to allow silence to settle, Harry started feeling uncomfortable.

“Youkai are, like, magical beings?” he started. “Do the ministry, er, allow them to carry wands?”

Lucius smirked, revealing a flash of white teeth “Wands are useless to true youkai; they can channel their powers directly.”

“You mean, like wandless magic?” Harry asked, his bushy black eyebrows hitting his messy hairline.

“Yes, almost all non-human magical creatures are able to access their magic without conducts such as wands.” Tom replied, twirling a strand of sable hair around his fingers. “The Ministry passed the Wand regulations out of pure sour grapes or, possibly, fear. House-elves have been known to kill people who have attacked their wizards or witches through pure, natural magic.”

“Are the magical races… related” Harry asked hesitantly.

“Generally speaking; very distantly. In some cases, the genetic difference is similar to that between humans and whales” Tom replied. “However, when you get down to specific cases, well, there have been quite a few inter-species marriages over the years.”

Harry hesitated, wondering whether he should bring up Dobby.

“Did you ever wonder, Harry, why a wizard from a family as wealthy and ancient as my own would only have one house elf?” Lucius asked idly.

“Um…”

“Or why I would risk public humiliation by dressing my servant in rags, while all other wizards provided their elves with neat, clean and, above all, expensive togas?”

Harry blanched, his stomach sinking; the Malfoys were all about style and the grubby, tatty, woebegone Dobby just didn’t fit their image.

“Youkai seldom keep servants” Tom said, suddenly. “The majority lead the nomadic lives of hunter-gatherers because, due to their superior abilities, they can find sustenance in even the harshest of climates and fight off any foe so foolish as to challenge them”

“However, youkai never enslave others” Lucius added firmly. “As a race, we are under no illusions of our own invulnerability. After all, the great Dog General, a daiyokai of phenomenal power, died at the hands of a mere human. To keep a slave within one’s den is viewed in much the same way as requesting an eagle to pick one’s teeth.”

“Oh!”

“The house of Malfoy liberated its elves almost upon the moment my father entered our Wiltshire Manor.” Lucius explained, his silver eyes meeting Harry’s for the first time. “Some accepted their freedom joyfully, two begged to remain as paid servants and the rest were gifted to Hogwarts. The two elves who stayed were Aiko and Hikaru, formerly Sootie and Pudge.”

Harry’s forehead wrinkled “Why were their names changed?”

Tom’s mouth twisted into a smirk “Would you call one of your kids “Sootie” or “Pudge”? Yuuhoshizumi gave his elves the forenames of youkai nobles out of respect.”

“What about Dobby, though?” Harry asked, the injustice of the elf's mistreatment rankling in his heart.

“My mad great Aunt.” Lucius signed “was somewhat enamoured of Dumbledore…”

“He was apparently quite the pin up in his day.” Tom interjected wryly.

“and she bequeathed her equally insane elf to me.” Lucius smiled ruefully “I don’t know whether she’d finally lost what remained of her marbles or did it out of pure spite. Thus I was encumbered with an elf too traditional to restrain from self-flagulation at the slightest misdemeanour, let alone countenance taking clothes.”

The elegant man sighed “This was not a good combination, given the way in which my aunt taught him to consider my family.”

“Why?” Harry asked, sable eyebrows knotting over confused green eyes. Silver eyes glittering like alpine stars, Lucius opened his quirking mouth to reply.

However, at that moment, however, the door clattered open and Godric bolted upright, yapping his surprise and displeasure in a timbre that Harry felt sure was slightly deeper than yesterday.

“Hey Harry, Tom” Lily cried, staggering in behind a gigantic bird cage. Severus entered behind her, carrying a cluster of bags in one hand and two cardboard animal carriers in the other, with a third clamped under his arm.

“Not in the kitchen, Lil!”

“But they’re indoor chickens!” she insisted, straightening up and brushing a long lock of fiery hair behind her ear. “Oh, Hello?!”

“Lily, this is Luc. His father was a friend of mine” Tom said casually.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance” Lucius replied, standing up and extending his hand. Silver eyes drifted over Lily’s petite form, the pale green linen of her dress skimming the curves of her hips and bust. Severus cleared his throat loudly.

With a wry smile, the young woman shook his hand “Hello Lucius, I see you haven’t changed.” She said, a hint of challenge in her viridian eyes.

Lucius’ grin widened, revealing pearly teeth. Harry busied himself with glopping up some stray egg yolk: Snape was a bit like a thunderstorm- when everything went quiet and still, you knew that the frothing clouds of armageddion were gathering on the horizon.

“And Severus,” Lucius strode past Lily and clapped Severus’ tweed clad shoulder. “I see you’re settling into domesticity.”

“I am not so helpless a bachelor as to be unused to buying groceries.” Severus replied coolly, drawing up his slender frame to look into Lucius’ amused eyes.

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Snape wasn’t actually all that tall, certainly not Malfoy’s height or even equallying Tom’s slighter frame. Must be those billowing robes, the teenager thought, as his eyes met Lily’s reassuringly good-humoured, green gaze.

Severus folded his arms, tucking pale, elegant hands into the folds of his green jacket and tilting his head, sleek strands of glossy black hair scrittering over the coarse fabric.

As Lucius’ cocky grin faded, Harry felt a smile tugging at his own mouth. Yeah, Severus wasn’t physically imposing but, however small the scorpion, it’ll still look pretty damn menacing as it sashays towards you, stinger glinting with venom.

Suddenly, Harry’s own, much despised lack of height didn’t seem so bad after all.

oOoOo

Upon Lucius’ swift departure, heralded by a suddenly remembered appointment at the Ministry, calm (or, rather, a type of calm) descended upon the kitchen.

As Lily and Tom argued over the benefits and negatives of raising chickens indoors, Severus strode across the kitchen, Godric fearlessly dancing around his heels, and set the shopping basket upon the table.

Bending down to pat the dog's blond head, the Potions teacher suddenly said “It might be wise for you to know what provisions are available should you find yourself hungry between meals. To this end, would you like to help me unpack the shopping?”

“Um, sure” Harry replied, gazing with bewildered emerald eyes at his… Snape’s hunched form, a curtain of dark locks shielding the man’s angular countenance from view.

Uncertainly, Harry reached his callused hands into the basket and pulled out an entire baguette. “Cool!”

“An undetectable extending charm.” Severus said quietly, removing two large jars from the blue gingham swathed depths. “Raspberry jam and lemon curd. There is also honey and cherry jam somewhere.” Severus’ pale hands indicated to the high, deep cupboard in which he placed the jars.

“Where does the bread go?” Harry asked, hefting out a dense, black loaf.

“General provisions larder. With the cheeses.”

As Harry unpacked, he was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few of his favourite, muggle foodstuffs, things which he’d been given at primary school or Mrs Figgs or even swiped as a taster at the supermarket deli counter, whilst Aunt Petunia’s back was turned. Pickled onions, bobbing palely in russet, spice bejewelled vinegar, slabs of soft, unctuous pate, little pots of richly scented pesto, scarlet vine tomatoes, cartons of glossy, many-hued olives, a jar of ponderously occilating pickled eggs, two huge, gleaming pork pies…

“Shit!” Harry gasped, thrusting a squidgy, square package away from him, as his nose shivelled from the scent which, but a second ago, it has been so eager to snuff up.

Severus span round, the first syllable of Harry’s former surname trembling on his lips. Harry, who had a well honed sense for danger, hastily back-tracked.

“Sorry Sir, but it’s well nasty” the teen murmured, averting his eyes.

Swallowing, the embarrassed flush across his high cheekbones, Severus grabbed a couple of bunches of herbs and turned to put them away. “Vieux Boulogne is one of the more pungent of cheeses.”

“You’ve got Vieux Boulogne?” Tom gasped, his petulant frown morphing into a huge smile as he turned from his argument with Lily. “I didn’t think you could get it over here!”

“One usually cannot” Severus drawled. “However, the local lads seem to believe that cheese smuggling is rather dashing.”

Harry tentatively lifted the waxed paper and took a suspicious glance at the obnoxious orange-rinded menace. “How can people put that in their mouths?”

“It’s quite nice, actually, Harry” Lily replied, opening one of the chicken carriers. A white feathered head poked out, glaring balefully with a straw-coloured eye.

“Don’t you bloody dare, Lily Evans!” Tom cried, grabbing Godric’s collar as the pup danced across the tiles to welcome the newcomer.

Severus shook his head and turned back to unpacking the shopping. “Worse than a bag of cats.”

“I heard that!” Lily cried, clinging onto a box which Tom was firmly carrying out of the kitchen.

Harry grinned to himself; Snape was always one of the more… dominant of the Hogwarts Masters, even gainsaying the Headmaster on occasion. However, it appeared that, in the company of Lily and Tom, the Potioneer was rather more circumspect.

Noticing Harry’s smile, Severus added “It does well to choose one’s battles, Harry. On that point, I was wondering… There is a form of magic which enables one to shield one’s thoughts from those who would access them by stealth”

Harry’s brow furrowed “You mean, like mind-readers?”

“The mind is not like a book, Harry” Severus drawled, folding his arms and tucking his hands into the folds of tweed. “Most Legilimens, that is, wizards who attempt to access ones’ thoughts, can only view those memories or sentiments which are on the surface.”

“Right.”

A lengthy, uncomfortable pause fell. As if recollecting himself, Severus added “It is Tom’s opinion that this particular skill would be of benefit to you.”

Harry gazed at his father, bemusement clouding his green eyes. Severus raised a sable eyebrow and a thought, possibly motivated by primal terror, clicked into place. “Is Dumbledore a Legiliwotsit?”

“Yes, a particularly powerful one.” Severus replied, leaning against the butlers sink.

Harry’s heart and face fell; even though he knew very little, the teen understood enough to realize that this didn’t bode well.

“However, he is not the most powerful.”  The Potions Master added, inspecting his long, tapered nails.

“Who is?” Harry heard himself ask.

“Me,” green eyes met obsidian, “which is why I am offering to teach you.”