Even though Harry now spent the majority of his days being tortured with horribly difficult Potions challenges, he found he didn’t mind the new routine of the Christmas holidays that had formed. While brewing with Snape inevitably left Harry with a tension headache by lunch, it was strangely satisfying when he finally managed to work out where in the process his potions were failing.

 

The daily Occlumency lessons were going well, even if they could be a bit boring at times. As much as Harry loved the Quidditch pitch, it could get a little tedious picturing it over and over twice a day, every day. Still, Snape had promised that he’d be able to let Harry advance soon, so that spurred him on.

 

The most rapidly approaching excitement Harry had awaiting him was the trip to Diagon Alley on the twentieth of December. As Harry was quite literally locked up in a dungeon at the moment, he was really looking forward to actually going outside and escaping the confines of Snape’s laboratory. Harry also had a fair bit of Christmas shopping to do once he and Snape left Draco and Andromeda to their own devices.

 

Harry was growing rather curious about Draco’s infamous aunt. What would Andromeda be like? Was she nice? From the tidbits he’d put together, Harry thought she’d led quite an interesting life, running away from Pureblood society in the way she had. Either way, Harry really hoped that she and Draco would get along.

 

Draco spent the night before his meeting with Andromeda on tenterhooks, moving from room to room and snapping at Harry and Snape if they so much as looked at him funny. He’d been in a sullen mood ever since the letter had been delivered, and it was beginning to become unbearable. In the end, Harry admitted defeat and locked himself up in his bedroom early to avoid the constant sniping.

 

Harry was hovering in that fuzzy space of half-sleep when he heard movement. He squinted his eyes open, and saw a golden beam of light slicing through his bedroom - someone had opened the door. Harry's first assumption was that Snape had come in for something, but when he looked more closely, Harry realised that it was actually Draco.

 

“Are you awake?” he whispered.

 

“Sure,” Harry muttered. He was now, at least. “What is it?”

 

“Er - nothing, really…”

 

Harry quickly realised that Draco wouldn't have come knocking if there wasn't something going on, so he stuck an arm out from under the covers and gestured vaguely at the other boy. “Come in, if you want.”

 

Draco quickly complied. He shut the door behind him, plunging both of them into darkness, and plopped himself on Harry's bed. The lack of proper light meant he ended up also sitting directly on top of Harry's legs.

 

“Hey! Watch it!” Harry complained.

 

“Sorry.” Draco shifted slightly, and Harry was able to free himself. He was too tired to come up with any sort of proper conversation, so was content to lie in silence until Draco spoke.

 

“It's tomorrow. I'm seeing her tomorrow.”

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

“I'm scared,” Draco whispered. Harry could just about make out the anxious hunch of his shoulders through the gloom. “All I can think about is everything that might go wrong…”

 

“I bet it's way less than you're expecting,” Harry said, trying his best to sound reassuring. “And anyway, she's your aunt - she's family. It'll be fine.”

 

“But… well, what if she's like your aunt?” Draco said softly.

 

“Unlikely,” Harry said with a small sigh. “You know it’s different. Think about it - your aunt reached out and wrote you a letter asking to meet up. And remember, she wanted to take you in and everything after the stuff with your parents, even if she wasn’t allowed in the end. My aunt always hated me for being dumped on her doorstep, and couldn’t get shot of me quick enough. It’s a completely different situation - Andromeda is nothing like Petunia.”

 

Luckily enough for you, Harry thought bitterly.

 

“I suppose.” Draco lapsed into silence again. Harry felt his eyes begin to drift close…

 

“Mother used to cry over her,” Draco said suddenly. Harry heard him shift - he was lying perpendicular to Harry at the end of the bed, now. “I heard her once. I must have been eight. Andromeda had sent us a Christmas letter that day - she did it every year. And every year, Mother would throw it into the fire. She said she didn't want anything from a filthy blood traitor, and three hours later she's sobbing to my father about how she just wants her sister back. I still don't get it…”

 

“There's nothing to get, I reckon,” Harry said honestly. “Families are weird.”

 

“Got that right.” Draco's breath hitched in his chest. “And here I am, going behind Mother’s back and meeting with Andromeda, knowing how things are between them… I’m a terrible son -”

 

“You can't think like that," Harry interrupted. “If your mum really cares about you, she won't want you alienated from the one blood relative you've got."

 

“I… I suppose, but… I can't come back from this, Harry." Draco's voice was shaking. “If my parents knew I was doing this tomorrow, that’s a massive line I’ve crossed. I don't know if either of them would ever forgive me -  if they'd even want anything to do with me, once they're out of Azkaban. I'll just be another blood traitor to them. This is it - my point of no return.”

 

Harry thought that Narcissa and Lucius were truly ridiculous people, then, if that was all it would take for them to permanently cut off their son. Contacting his own aunt was really that much of a sin? They were just plain stupid, then…

 

Harry also knew that it probably wasn't wise to voice such thoughts to Draco. He stayed silent, trying to gather the right words.

 

“I actually think you went past the point of no return a while ago, Draco,” Harry said softly.

 

Draco made a choked sort of noise. "I think I did, too.” He furiously swiped his hand over his face. “I want to do the right thing from now on, but… but it’s so hard when they’ll never understand.”

 

Harry reached out and squeezed Draco’s shoulder, lost for words. Draco's breathing was harsh and shaky for several minutes, and Harry was sure that if the lights were on, he'd see tears. Finally, he could understand why Draco had spent the last few days being so irritable. This meeting was really weighing on him - not just because he was seeing an aunt who he'd heard nothing but bad things about, but because of everything that meeting represented. By spending time with Andromeda, Draco was truly shaking off the bigoted beliefs his parents held so dearly - beliefs they might even put over their own son. Draco was facing the prospect of losing his parents to more than just Azkaban. It has to be gutting.

 

Draco sniffled, wiped his eyes again and turned to look at Harry.

 

“Even if everything that I'm doing means I lose my blood family… you'll be here?” Draco's voice was thin and vulnerable in a way Harry had never heard it before.

 

"I will be.” Harry knew he needed to say more than that, though. This wasn’t enough. So, he decided to say something he'd never, ever admit in the light of day.

 

"You know… one time, Professor McGonagall said to me that you and I are pretty much stepbrothers now. I think… well, I think she was right about that.” He swallowed, hard. “And I’m glad we are.”

 

“Stepbrothers.” Draco made a humming noise. “I always wanted a sibling, you know.”

 

“Same here. Dudley really didn't count.”

 

“Obviously,” Draco scoffed. When Harry really squinted through the gloom, he thought he could see a smile on the other boy’s face.

 

“Brothers,” Draco said softly. “I like it, too.”

 

Harry smiled, even as a shudder of trepidation rocked through his body, one that he did his best to shove down. Harry hadn’t dared to put any of this into words before tonight - not with Snape, not even with himself, and certainly not with Draco. Brothers were people in a family, and the idea of Harry being linked to Draco and Snape with that sort of tie frightened him unlike anything else. The words made it real.

 

But it was real. Friendship simply didn't cut it when describing Harry and Draco’s relationship. The shared experience of being under Snape's care, coupled with the intense highs and lows of the last few months, the good natured bickering, the shared fun, the things they'd endured side by side… brothers was the only word that fit properly, whether they were related by blood or not.

 

Harry had an inkling that Draco might feel just as frightened by all this as Harry did himself, but it was alright. They were frightened together. That made everything seem the slightest bit more manageable.

 

---

 

Harry wasn’t sure how long he and Draco stayed in silence together - he fell asleep before the other boy went anywhere, but Draco was gone when Harry woke up the next morning. He’d partially convinced himself the whole thing was a dream, but Draco’s behaviour had changed too drastically for that to be the case. He was far less short with Harry as they headed into breakfast together, at the very least.

 

Still, just because he wasn’t in a particularly foul mood didn’t mean Draco was quite himself yet. He was anxious and withdrawn; Harry didn’t think Draco’s knee stopped bouncing once during breakfast, which he barely touched. Snape watched all of this with a frown, but didn’t comment. Harry, who had put up with months of Snape’s nagging at mealtimes by now, felt slightly resentful that the man wasn’t having a go at Draco for not eating when he was anxious… double standards like that always got on his nerves.

 

“I want to Floo,” Draco said abruptly.

 

Snape frowned. “Draco, I really don’t think that’s a good idea, given -”

 

“I don’t care!” Draco snapped. “I’m not a coward, and I have to just get over it already!”

 

“There is nothing cowardly about a normal emotional response to what you’ve been through,” Snape said sharply. “You’ve got a stressful day ahead of you, so don’t upset yourself before it even starts.”

 

“I’m doing it,” Draco said. He crossed his arms and jutted his chin out, defiant expression unwavering.

 

Snape sighed, and rubbed his temples. “Then you’ll take a Calming Draught before you go through.”

 

Draco scowled. “I don’t need -”

 

“You take a Calming Draught, or we walk out of the grounds so I can Apparate you both to Diagon Alley,” Snape interrupted. “Those are your options, and I will not be argued with.”

 

“Fine!” Draco snapped, shoving his chair back and jumping to his feet. “I’ll drink your stupid potion. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to do my hair.”

 

Harry, who couldn’t see anything wrong with Draco’s usual groomed and gelled locks, simply shook his head with confusion as Draco left the room. He turned to Snape. “Is there any reason he can’t use the Floo Network? What, does he just not like the ash on his fancy clothes or something?”

 

“He nearly died in a house fire, as you’ll recall,” Snape said sharply.

 

“Er - yeah. Sorry, I didn't think.” Harry grimaced, then frowned as Snape’s words sounded alarm bells in his mind. “Wait he nearly died? I knew he was there, but I thought his mother got him out!”

 

“She did, but that doesn’t negate the danger he was in,” Snape said in a low voice. “Fiendfyre is very dangerous Dark magic, and spreads incredibly quickly. He was covered in soot when I picked him up from the Ministry, and suffering from the aftereffects of smoke inhalation. I believe the experience was a lot more traumatic than he prefers to let on, so keep that in mind as we set off.”

 

“I will,” Harry said.

 

He found himself thinking back to the incident at the Cokeworth fair all those months ago. Seeing a bonfire had struck absolute terror in Draco, hadn’t it? Harry supposed it was similar to the way he reacted to doing accidental magic. It was a very specific vulnerability that you wouldn’t know about unless you were intimately involved in Harry’s life.

 

They set out to leave soon after, bundled up in cloaks and scarves to brave the winter chill. The three of them gathered around the crackling fireplace, the jar of Floo powder awaiting them on the mantelpiece above. Draco looked between the dancing flames and the jar, his face paler than usual even after taking the Calming Draught that Snape had forced upon him.

 

After several long moments of inaction, Snape cleared his throat. “If you don’t -”

 

“I just need a minute!” Draco snapped. He squeezed his eyes shut and took several breaths.

 

Harry watched the tension fade from his face gradually, in a manner that reminded him greatly of Snape when he was Occluding. Of course - Snape had taught Draco Occlumency, too. Harry remembered Draco mentioning it to him all the way back in August. It took Draco significantly longer than Snape to push his emotions away, but Harry supposed Snape was a lot more experienced than Draco in that area.

 

When Draco finally decided to act, he was swift. He rushed forwards, grabbed a fistful of Floo powder, and threw it into the fireplace with unnecessary vigour. “Diagon Alley!”

 

With barely a moment of hesitation, he jumped into the whirlwind of green flames and vanished from view. Snape turned to Harry. “I oughtn’t leave him for long - I trust you know the way?”

 

“Yep - see you there.”

 

“Diagon Alley.”

 

Snape vanished from view, while Harry stepped forwards and grabbed a handful of Floo powder himself. He ensured he pronounced Diagon Alley properly, unlike the disastrous trip from the Burrow where he’d ended up in Borgin and Burkes. Harry could only imagine the sort of telling off he’d get from Snape if he wound up in Knockturn Alley…

 

After a nauseating journey through a maze of fireplaces, Harry landed face first onto the floor of the Leaky Cauldron. He pushed himself up just in time to see Draco roughly shoving Snape away from him. “I said I’m fine!” 

 

“Very well.” Snape took a step back from Draco, who had his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes squeezed shut. When he noticed Harry getting up from the floor, Snape frowned and quickly hauled Harry up the rest of the way, then dusted the soot from his cloak with a few swift pats.

 

Draco remained to the side for several moments, visibly anxious. Harry shifted from foot to foot, wondering if he should do or say something to help. Before he could make up his mind, Draco took a deep breath and reopened his eyes. “Let’s go.”

 

“Well done,” Snape said quietly.

 

Draco glared at him, but there wasn’t any real heat behind it. They quickly made their way into the back of the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley beyond, where Snape briskly led them along the narrow street. The whole place was imbued with Christmas spirit, from the twinkling Christmas trees in the shop windows to the bright lights strung up above. They kept changing shape - Harry made out baubles, Christmas puddings and prancing reindeer in the time it took them to arrive at Toffit’s Tearoom. It was a small but cheery place, with lacy curtains adorning the frosted windows and great stacks of teapots and finger foods sitting at every table.

 

As they approached, Harry reached out, squeezed Draco’s arm, and whispered, “It’s going to be okay.”

 

Draco looked at him, face a mixture of gratitude and fear. The three of them pressed forwards and through the door, and a small bell tinkled above them.

 

The tearoom was moderately busy. Harry scanned the room, looking for somebody bearing a resemblance to Draco. After glancing over several groups of gossiping middle-aged witches, he spotted a woman with long curly brown hair sitting alone at a table near the window. She was fidgeting and folding her hands in lap in a way that suggested nervousness. When she glanced over to the door, Harry got a better look at her face: high cheekbones, and heavy-lidded grey eyes. They were the exact same colour as Draco’s, Harry realised with a start. He knew instantly that this had to be Andromeda Tonks.

 

She seemed to realise a moment after Harry did who she was looking at. A smile spread across Andromeda’s face, and she got to her feet and moved over to them. Harry looked over to Draco - he was also smiling slightly, but his eyes were still filled with fear.

 

Andromeda came to a halt before the three of them. She made an odd, jerky sort of movement, like she’d gone to reach out to touch Draco’s shoulder but had thought better of it at the last moment.

 

“Draco - it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

“And you, Mrs Tonks,” Draco said politely. He held himself stiffly, back ramrod straight.

 

“Please, call me Andromeda if you’d like!” she said quickly. “I trust you’re well?”

 

“I am - and you?”

 

“Splendid, thank you.”

 

They fell into silence. Andromeda was staring at Draco, and Harry was almost certain there were tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. After a moment, she shook herself and turned to him and Snape. Andromeda outstretched a hand. “Severus - it’s good to see you again.”

 

“And you.” Snape shook her hand. “How is Ted?”

 

“Well, but busy - St Mungo’s always increases his shifts in the run up to Christmas,” Andromeda said with a small shake of her head. She looked to Harry and smiled. “And you must be Harry. It’s nice to meet you.”

 

“You too, Mrs Tonks,” Harry said. Unlike most people upon their first time meeting him, she actually looked him in the eyes instead of ogling his scar. Harry instantly decided he liked this woman.

 

“Harry and I have some Christmas shopping to attend to, so I’ll leave the two of you to get properly acquainted,” Snape said, taking a step back. “I’ll return in an hour, shall I?”

 

“Okay,” Draco said, the tightness in his voice indicating his panic. Snape went to leave the shop, while Harry took the time to shoot Draco a furtive thumbs-up before going to follow him outside.

 

The winter air stung as it hit his face, and Harry drew his scarf more tightly around his throat. The husky voice of a busker singing Christmas songs floated over the wind as Harry and Snape walked down the bustling street, packed almost shoulder to shoulder with shoppers. Harry took one last look back over his shoulder through the foggy window and into the tearoom. Andromeda was talking to Draco at their table, her head tilted to one side inquisitively.

 

“He’ll be fine without us there, right?” Harry asked.

 

“He will be,” Snape said confidently. “At any rate, this is something Draco has to deal with himself. I doubt our presence would help him significantly.”

 

“She seemed nice,” Harry said. “She and Draco have the same colour eyes.”

 

“Draco always took after his mother in that regard.” He swiftly glanced over at Harry, a wistful look on his face that vanished within moments. “Now, I have some potion ingredients to purchase - follow me.”

 

Harry proceeded to spend a ridiculous amount of time in Slug and Jiggers while Snape restocked on ingredients. As a general rule, Harry hated the foul-smelling apothecary and aimed to spend as little time in it as possible. Snape, however, seemed to enjoy the process of browsing and picking out products, and went over all of them individually to carefully examine the quality. The only highlight of the experience was watching Snape haggle over the priceswith the poor owner, who looked like he was about to wet himself by the end of the interaction. They exited the shop at last, Snape looking terribly pleased with himself.

 

“Sir - er, Severus, I thought you said we were doing Christmas shopping,” Harry pointed out.

 

“We are,” Snape said. “You may pick the next place.”

 

Harry ended up heading to Flourish and Blotts next door in a vain attempt to try and find a book that Hermione hadn’t yet bought or read. Snape was surprisingly helpful in that area, and managed to point out a book about brewing that Harry would have rather stuck pins in his eyes than read but thought Hermione would enjoy.

 

He also discovered a small and neglected-looking shelf of Muggle novels shoved in a deserted corner of the bookstore. Harry quickly headed over, and picked up the Lord of the Rings trilogy for Draco’s gift. He knew the other boy liked reading fiction, and thought he’d enjoy haughtily insulting Muggle fantasy tropes.

 

Harry then dragged a displeased Snape into Quality Quidditch Supplies to buy Ron a moving figurine of the new Chudley Cannons Seeker, and spent quite a while staring longingly at the Firebolt in the shop window. It had to be ludicrously expensive, but Harry did need a new broom -

 

“No,” Snape said from next to him. “Don’t even think about it.”

 

“I’m obviously not going to try and buy it,” Harry complained. “It would clear my vault out!”

 

“I am glad you possess that level of self-awareness, because I would happily lock your vault key away until you reached seventeen if you attempted to purchase that astronomically overpriced contraption,” Snape said pointedly.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever.” He sighed. “I miss my Nimbus - Oliver’s been going on at me to get a new one for weeks now…”

 

“Don’t fret,” Snape said. “These things have a way of working themselves out.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure if Snape thought his broom could magically become un-smashed by the Whomping Willow, but didn’t try to argue the point further.

 

“Are you at last done obsessing over racing brooms for the day?” Snape complained. “I’d prefer to leave this place before I die of old age.”

 

“Fine. You’re the one who insists on stalking me around all the shops, you know,” Harry grumbled, heading over to the till.

 

“And you’re the one who insists on using any unsupervised time to flagrantly break important rules,” Snape said sharply.

 

“But I have things I need to do without you here!” Harry said. “Like - like secret shopping and stuff.”

 

Harry dearly hoped Snape realised that 'secret shopping' was actually code for ‘buying Snape a Christmas present’ and didn’t assume Harry was about to tear off into Knockturn Alley to buy wizard drugs, or whatever it was that he imagined Harry did while unsupervised.

 

“Very well,” Snape said eventually. “You have half an hour - meet me outside of the Magical Menagerie, and if you are so much as a second late, you will regret it dearly.”

 

Harry snapped his head around, shocked. “Wait, really?”

 

“You could say I have some secret shopping of my own to do,” Snape said, turning to leave the store. “I will see you soon - don’t go anywhere near Knockturn Alley, or I will have you scrubbing cauldrons until you’re thirty.”

 

Harry shuffled forward to the front of the queue and paid for the figurine, wondering what on earth Snape could be doing that had to be secret. Maybe he was going into Knockturn Alley to get some potions stuff he didn’t want Harry knowing about…

 

While Harry made his way to Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop to pick up some sweets for his friends, his mind was working overtime trying to think of what he could give Snape. He’d drawn the man a fairly decent sketch of his Potions laboratory for a gift, but that just didn’t feel like enough, somehow. What else could he find?

 

Harry also ended up buying a mug with ‘World’s Greatest Potions Master’ written in curlicues above a moving, bubbling cauldron image. Snape’s usual blue mug was chipped and faded, so it couldn’t hurt for him to have another one to add to the rotation. Was that enough, though? Harry wasn’t sure what else Snape would even like. The man’s main interests were concentrated around brewing, but he had everything he needed for that… this was impossible!

 

But on his way out of the sweetshop, Harry spotted a record shop nestled nearby, and an idea suddenly struck him. He recalled a conversation he’d had with Snape a few days earlier while they were brewing, about a certain song that Snape sometimes used to keep time while stirring…

 

An evil grin spread across Harry’s face as he headed into the store.

 

Harry, who was surprised to learn wizards even had record shops, was doubtful that he’d find what he was looking for. Luckily for him, the owner of the shop was a cheerful Muggleborn wizard who had apparently expanded into Muggle music as well as wizard. Harry quickly found a vinyl with all of ABBA’s greatest hits on it, and smirked to himself. He could already imagine the irritated look on Snape’s face when he unwrapped it. This was going to be amazing.

 

“You’re Muggleborn?” the wizard queried as Harry handed over his money.

 

“Er - sure,” he said, carefully flattening his fringe over his scar.

 

“Then just a warning - don’t use that on a regular turntable,” the shopkeeper warned. “Magical records are a bit different - tap it once with your wand, and it’ll start playing to you.”

 

Harry nodded, and smiled at the man. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

 

He left the shop and trotted over to the Magical Menagerie, his pockets considerably lighter and arms weighed down with shopping bags. He found Snape waiting for him by the Magical Menagerie with several extra bags of his own, staring at his watch and at the tracker connected to Harry’s bracelet sitting beneath it. He looked up at Harry as he approached and nodded. “Good - you’re on time. Shall we meet up again with Draco?”

 

“Alright,” Harry said, blinking rapidly to try and clear the snowflakes from his eyelashes. They’d started falling in the last ten minutes, and were building into a considerable flurry.

 

He and Snape fought their way through the downfall and re-entered Toffit’s Tearoom. Harry immediately looked over to Draco, and was relieved to realise that the other boy looked considerably more relaxed than he had when they’d started the day. He actually had a smile on his face, and was listening attentively to Andromeda as she spoke.

 

“...Cissy wouldn’t have that, of course. There I was, crying over Rabastian’s answer, more embarrassed than I’d ever been, when she stepped up to confront him. Eleven years old, she stormed over to Rabastian, kicked him in the shins so hard he started howling in front of the whole Slytherin common room, and informed him that he’d be lucky to have a girl like me!”

 

Draco laughed. “I can’t believe Mother would do something like that!”

 

“Oh, Cissy was fiery at that age - you had to be, growing up with our eldest sister,” Andromeda muttered the last part, a hint of darkness colouring her tone. “Your mother and I fought like cats and dogs when we were younger, I tell you… when I was seven I cut all the hair off her favourite doll, and Cissy was so furious that she - oh, hello, you two!”

 

“Severus, Harry!” Draco’s eyes were bright and cheerful, and darted immediately to the shopping bags they were holding. “Anything in there for me, perchance?”

 

“Yes - I thought it was a perfect day to stock up on coal,” Snape said dryly. He intentionally shifted the bags so that Draco was unable to peer in and see their contents.

 

“Do sit down!” Andromeda said, gesturing to the extra chairs at their table. Harry and Snape quickly settled down. “Draco’s been telling me all about the two of you. I hear you’ve got quite the rematch coming up between your Quidditch teams?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Our Captains can’t agree on a date yet, though.”

 

“Well, good luck to the both of you,” she said. “I’ve always enjoyed Quidditch, although I never had the balance on a broomstick to play it myself.”

 

“I was much the same,” Snape said, lips quirking with amusement. “Although enjoying Quidditch would be a significant overstatement of my interest in the sport…”

 

Andromeda laughed. “You and Ted would certainly get along, then.”

 

“She’s told me so much about Mother that I never knew, Severus,” Draco said excitedly. “Did you know she botched an attempt to become an Animagus when she was fifteen?”

 

Snape made an amused sort of noise. “I’d forgotten. Yes, Lucius used to tease her about it mercilessly…”

 

“Oh, our father was furious when it happened!” Andromeda laughed. “He made Cissy go around with a fox tail and whiskers for two weeks that summer as a punishment… it certainly put her off Animagus Transfiguration for good.”

 

Harry watched as the three of them smiled at each other, feeling a little left out. He did his best to hide the continual waves of envy coursing through him and sat back, fidgeting with his hands. Still, someone ended up noticing him withdrawing - and shockingly enough, it was Andromeda.

 

“You know, Harry, I met your parents a few times myself,” she confided.

 

Harry turned back to her, his heartbeat instantly quickening. “You did?”

 

She nodded. “Ted and I were non-active members of the Order of the Phoenix - that was what we called the old crowd of us fighting against You-Know-Who. Your parents were full members, of course, out on the front lines fighting, and they’d end up in our home sometimes after battles. We were one of the Order safehouses, you see.”

 

Harry stared at her, wide-eyed, hoping against hope that Andromeda would continue speaking. To his immense delight, she did.

 

“One particular occasion I remember is back in early 1980, when your mother was pregnant with you,” Andromeda said. “The Potters came to us after an unexpected attack on the original safehouse they were doing Curse Research in. Lily Potter was quite the spitfire - four months pregnant, and she escaped a Death Eater ambush outnumbered five to one with barely a scratch on her!”

 

“Wow,” Harry breathed.

 

“Your father wasn’t one to be overlooked, either,” Andromeda added. “He disabled some of You-Know-Who’s most lethal Death Eaters that night, trying to make sure you and your mother got out safely. He came to us with his arm half hanging off, but wouldn’t even let Ted look at him until he’d checked over Lily. His wife and the baby were more important than any little flesh wound, he said.” She shook her head fondly. “Ridiculous man. Foolish, but braver than anyone else I knew.”

 

Harry stared at Andromeda, borderline entranced as she finished off. He could really understand why Draco had looked so fascinated by his aunt’s words when they’d arrived a few minutes ago; Andromeda was a truly brilliant storyteller. She put dramatic emphasis in all the right places, and Harry couldn’t believe the recall for detail she had of events that had occurred over a decade ago.

 

“Now, I unfortunately must be rushing off soon, but I’d love to do this again,” Andromeda said earnestly. She turned to Draco and fondly patted his shoulder. “It has been an absolute pleasure to finally meet you, Draco.”

 

“And you, Aunt Andromeda,” he said, beaming up at her. It was a far sight from the nervous wreck Draco had been just hours earlier. He was as comfortable with his aunt as if he’d known her for years.

 

“If Dora isn’t too busy with her Auror duties, I’ll bring her along the next time we meet,” Andromeda promised. “I hope the three of you have a very happy Christmas.”

 

“You, too,” Snape said, rising to his feet. “I’ll be in contact to arrange a weekend meeting while Draco is still at Hogwarts.”

 

After a final few exchanged pleasantries, Harry and Draco followed Snape out of the tea shop and into Diagon Alley. It seemed that Draco had just been waiting to be out of the presence of his aunt to explode into chatter. When they were a little way down the street, Draco spun around to face Harry and Snape, face split wide with a grin.

 

“So?” Harry prompted.

 

“She’s great!” Draco said happily. “So nice. She told me so much about my mother that I’d never heard before, it was amazing! I felt like I saw a completely different side of her. Andromeda’s going to properly introduce me to her husband and daughter the next time we meet. I’ve already met Nymphadora - that’s my cousin’s proper name, apparently - but it will be nice to do it again in a more pleasant situation, of course. Oh, that was better than I could have ever imagined!”

 

“I’m pleased for you, Draco,” Snape said.

 

Harry did his best to smile at the other boy while he continued to talk, because it was the right thing to do. The jealousy had reared its ugly head yet again, vicious and choking, but that wasn’t Draco’s fault. There was absolutely no point in feeling upset about Aunt Petunia, just because Andromeda was so different to her in every possible respect. He had accepted a long time ago that Petunia would never want anything to do with him, so he had to bloody well start acting like it, Harry told himself fiercely. He was being ridiculous.

 

But knowing that didn’t change how Harry felt. It didn’t stop Harry from staring at his bedroom ceiling late that night, wishing he was Draco. Wishing things could be different.