Harry Potter The Long Lost Malfoy

Harry blinked. He really did think that the Malfoys would have bought a broom for Draco, too, if they were getting him one. And by the way that Father was starting to his feet and drawing his wand, they hadn't done that.

"Do not give that to him," Mother said sharply. "Sidney, what were you thinking?"

Sidney whimpered and reached up to tug his ears. Harry stood up. "Don't punish him," he snapped.

Mrs. Malfoy glanced at him and took a long breath, then nodded. "Fine," she said. "But I want to know how that thing passed our wards."

"If there are no curses on it…" Father said.

"Of course there would be! What other purpose would there be in sending it to him?"

"There is being this card," Sidney squeaked, and slowly held out what looked like a thick square of parchment with golden lettering on it. Harry tried not to resent it when Mother snatched it. It probably was dangerous, and not just post for him.

Mother cast a bunch of spells on it, and then held it out wordlessly. The tremble in her fingers told Harry who it was from before he read it.

If this is the only way I can be your godfather, then I'll send it to you. This is the new Firebolt broom. Happy Christmas.

Harry felt a thick clutch in his throat for just a second. The Firebolt. Man, if that hadn't been a gift from a man who'd kidnapped him when he was a baby, wouldn't he have just loved to have it?

He held out the card to Draco when Draco extended his hand in a silent question. Draco read the card quickly and looked up. "Mother! We have to keep it!"

"No," Mother said, her voice quiet and savage. "We will be destroying it tomorrow, Draco."

"Mother—"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy."

Draco sat down at the table in a visible sulk. Harry gave his own longing look at the Firebolt as Mother told Sidney to take it away, but he was careful not to be seen looking. He could absolutely understand why his parents wouldn't let him, or Draco, keep the broom.

But he did have to wonder what in the world Sirius thought he was doing. Did he think he could buy Harry's affection with a great broom?

Well, Harry admitted after thinking about it for a minute. He can't, but this comes closer than a lot of other ways would.

 ....

"No, Draco. You don't need a Firebolt."

"No, but I want one."

Harry bit back a smile as he sat eating the Christmas morning meal that Dobby had made for him. It was mostly porridge, but drizzled with cinnamon and covered with at least half a dozen different kinds of berries. Most of the time, Mother would have said that it was too unhealthy for him to eat. But Harry didn't think he could have asked for anything during this holiday that he'd be refused.

He still didn't ask for everything he could have, of course. For one thing, he felt uncomfortable doing that and knowing the Malfoys would just…give it to him. Maybe because he had grown up with the Dursleys, and they wouldn't have. But whatever the reason, he wouldn't ask.

For another, he thought Mother and Father had quite enough to cope with, having one Draco in the family.

"We already destroyed the broom," Father said, his voice on the line between cold and exasperated. "Why can't you be more like your brother, Draco? See, he's perfectly satisfied with the gifts he got already."

Harry grimaced. Yes, he and Draco were brothers, sure, even twins, but he could still wish their parents wouldn't compare them.

"But he grew up poor! He just doesn't know how good he could have it."

The cheerful mood of the morning froze in an instant. Harry glanced up and saw Mother staring at Draco with a face as pale as marble, and Father shutting his eyes and taking a long, deep breath. Draco frowned, but he still looked back and forth as though someone else had caused the problem.

"What? I'm only saying what all of us should be saying. And I'll ask the questions that should be asked, too." Draco leaned forwards. "Have you punished them? The ones who abused Henry and locked him up behind bars?"

"I do not wish to speak of them," Mother said. "Particularly today."

"We have to, though. No one tells me anything! I mean, maybe you punished them, but you never said anything to me. And I think Henry would like to know, too." Draco looked at Harry, who glared at him and tried to mouth Don't drag me into this, you moron. That only made Draco smile. He probably wasn't good at lip-reading.

"We have wanted to do certain things to them," Father said. "Henry did not approve of those things. We have agreed that some of the vengeance must remain up to him."

"So they're just walking around free, like they're innocent?" Draco demanded. "Henry, how can you stand for that?"

"What Father wanted to do was torture or kill them!" Harry snapped. "I don't want my cousin—I mean, the boy I thought I was my cousin to grow up an orphan just because I thought I was! I don't want him to suffer because I did! That's not the way you get justice."

"It would be fine. It's not like you would ever have to see him again. So why would it matter to you if he suffered like that?"

Harry hissed and pushed his porridge bowl away. "I'm not feeling very hungry," he said, and turned and looked at Mrs. Malfoy. "Can I be excused and go to my room, please?"

"But it doesn't matter," Draco said loudly. "Come on, Henry, you know it doesn't."

"It would still be happening even if I wasn't right there to witness it! Merlin, you're a little shit sometimes, Draco."

"Henry! Do not swear at your brother."

"Then can you tell him not to say that everything would be fine if I'd agreed to let Father kill the Dursleys for what they did to me? Can you stop him from acting like only the family is important, and no one else?"

....

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