Hope is a waking dream.

Aristotle

Narcissa was a quiet woman, she always had been. When given the opportunity she was more likely to spend the extra time evaluating the situation before deciding to act. When she was growing up in the Black household she learned to keep calm in every situation, her mother would not have it no other way. Showing fear or surprise was a weakness and the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black did not produce weak individuals.

So when she sent Draco up to wake Severus and lead young Harry into the kitchen to talk she found herself relying heavily on these skills. Harry had responded to the magical moments of the morning with a shy joy… but no curiosity or disbelief as she might expect him too.  He carried no anger or mistrust in him despite the struggle and pain of his life, but there was a stillness about him that lay close to his bones and broke her heart. Narcissa, while quiet and calm, was a curious woman, and it behooved to better understand this child.

“Harry, Dear, How are you feeling today?” She started with an informal question, easing him into the conversation.

“I’m fine Ma’am. I’m sorry for waking you last night, I have nightmares sometimes and I have trouble being quiet. Last night was the worst.” Harry had laughed while playing cards with Draco, and smiled at breakfast as he admitted he had no idea what half the things piled on his plate tasted like and had no idea what he wanted to eat for breakfast, but  that stillness that Narcissa observed in him remained. It clung to him even now, shrouding every action and disguising his fears.

“Do not overly concern yourself with waking me Harry. I am a mother, I could do no less than comfort you and I do not hold you accountable or in debt for your response to your nightmares.” Narcissa hadn’t meant to sound uptight and pretentious, but when she opened her mouth to speak again, sure that she had either offended Harry with her tone and that he had most likely not understood the intention of her statement she was surprised, the first of many times to come, she was sure.

“I am grateful for your compassion. You say that all mothers would respond thusly but I have found that it is not always the case. My Aunt Petunia, while very much a mother, saw no need to provide such comforts.”  Harry traced the worn grain of the table with one finger as he spoke, he eyes distant and locked in the past. Narcissa considered for a moment before she spoke.

“You are a very well-spoken young man Harry.  Most eleven year olds are not so articulate.” The question was implied… Narcissa watched as Harry deliberated his answer… she could see the gears and cogs of his mind working furiously behind his expressive eyes.

“My Aunt and Uncle would much rather that I not exist at all, much less live in their house where my strangeness could infect their precious son Dudley. I did my best to stay out of the way and to stay quiet. I was hiding from him in the Library at school one day when I started reading. I read everything that I could get my hands on. I read all the kids books and then moved on to the books for the older kids. After I’d read everything that I could in that library, I started walking to the Public Library after school. It was just down the road and my Aunt didn’t care. I read everything… books have been my life since the first time I cracked the spine on ‘Where the Wild Things Are.’  There was a sliver of a smile on his pale lips, it made the sight even sadder. Here was a child who should have been given every love and comfort, but instead was given words and books. She understood better than most the comfort of those musty pages, but they could not hold a child after a nightmare, or feed a child, or sing them to sleep at night… no, books while comforting to the soul, did nothing for the body.

“You must be very smart then, Harry. I am pleased that you will be a friend for my son Draco. I believe that your continued acquaintance will be beneficial to both of you. He will be able to each you about our world and you will be able to teach him about yours, so neither is ignorant of the other.” Narcissa was leading him to a point, a place where she could ask him what he knew about magic but she knew if she simply asked the question he would not answer, the muggles had ensured that.

“I enjoy your sons company. I look forward to getting to know him better. Will he be attending school in the fall? I received a letter from a school called ‘Hogwarts’ but I have not sent a letter in return with my intentions.”  Harry seemed once again confused, but Narcissa was too much of a Slytherin to let the opportunity pass her by.

“Draco will be attending Hogwarts in the fall. I hope that you will be as well.” She was almost ready to spring her question on him.

“I would like to. I will have to speak to the Headmaster about the tuition…” Harry trailed off. Narcissa could see his internal struggle.

“Harry that will be entirely unnecessary. Your parents where rather wealthy and when they died your father’s title and their wealth passed on to you. They both attended Hogwarts for their education as well. Your father is a descendant of the Potter family, one of the oldest families in the magical world and your mother was a muggle born, meaning she came to Hogwarts very much the same way you will.” Narcissa barely restrained the smirk that wanted to curl her lips.

“What do you mean, Ma’am?” Harry’s eye were bright with keen intelligence and a certain something that looked to Narcissa like judgment, as though he was weighting her, testing her character before showing his hand.

“She had read many books about magic, but as for a true understanding of it… that must be gained through the practice and cannot be attained through reading.” Narcissa was ready to move forward when a half whispered statement broke her train of thought.

“What makes you so sure that I do not have a ‘true understanding’ of magic?” His eyes locked on hers.

“Harry?” Her voice was soft and comforting while inside her mind was a riot of ideas and possibilities.

There was a strained silence in the Kitchen for a moment. Narcissa held out, not speaking a word, waiting for Harry to break first. With a heavy sigh, he did.

“I’ve always known about magic. I have always been able to feel it around me. At first I didn’t know what to call it. I didn’t know if it was real or if I’d made it up, but things started happening and I knew that I was different from other people. “Harry looked away from her and back to the table.

Narcissa’s heart was slamming about wildly in her chest.

“What kind of things Harry?” There was no tremor in her voice to betray her curiosity or internal chaos.

“I was running from my cousin Dudley once and I ended up on the roof of the school, it feel like I’d been pulled up there, like water through a straw.”

Apparation…Narcissa thought to herself. She had never heard of a child apparating being part of their accidental magic.

“My teacher was yelling at me for ‘cheating’ on a test, which I would never do, but she was incredibly angry that I had received such a high score on this test and none of the others before it… her hair turned blue.” That was more like the accidental magic that Draco had performed but it was still interesting.

“Then there was the time I went to the Zoo with the Dursley’s for Dudley’s birthday. I’m not entirely sure how it happened but I ended up talking to a snake and the snake talked back. It was rather incredible, until my cousin’s friend Pier’s saw and from there it was nothing but a mess.” Narcissa froze. In fact, she wasn’t even sure that she was breathing… even her brain had ceased to function… Harry Potter is a Parselmouth… It echoed in and out of her gray matter filling every corner with its ramifications.

She was so caught up in her contemplations she almost didn’t notice that Harry had started speaking once more.

“Even when those things weren’t happening, I could feel the magic all around me. It helped me heal when I was sick or hurt. It kept me warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It has always been there, I can see it around some people, like a light that lays just around the frame of their bodies. Severus’ light is gray around the edges and pure light as it reaches closer to his body, yours is very much the same. Draco’s light is blinding, all white from where it begins to where it ends. That’s why the letters didn’t startle me overmuch; I knew that magic was real. I’ve always know it was real.”