Fic: Two of Swords
Title: Twenty Years
Author: aylarah_scale
Type: Fiction
Length: 2015
Main character or Pairing: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, just play with him a bit :P
Warnings: None
Summary: Twenty years after the war means it’s about time Harry and Draco review how they should interact.
Card Interpretation: "Friendship and union. An alliance to achieve a goal."
Author Notes: This definitely isn’t how I was originally imagining this fic - it was going to be much longer and have a lot more plot, but life got in the way and if I wanted any chance of getting it written in time, it had to be shorter. I hope it’s still enjoyable.
“You want us to what?”
“Professor, surely you jest.”
“It’s just insane, that’s what it is. Why on earth -“
“ - Would you think us doing this is a good idea?”
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and looked over her spectacles at the two men who sat before her. “Well for one,” She stated crisply, “You’ve just managed to finish each other’s sentences.”
The two men glanced at each other and pulled a face.
“Mister Potter and Mister Malfoy, you are nearly forty years old. I would request that you start acting like it, and stop behaving like four-year-olds.”
Harry often wondered at how even at his age, the woman in front of him could make him feel like he’d forgotten to hand in a piece of homework. It had been over twenty years since he’d last sat in a lesson taught by the woman, but at the moment it felt like it was just yesterday. He glanced at the man sitting in the chair beside him, smiling slightly when he saw that Malfoy seemed to be squirming under the Professor’s gaze just as much as he was.
“You have been chosen for this task for several reasons.” Professor McGonagall continued. “You were both prominent figures in the war, even if you Mister Malfoy were on the other side for a large portion of it. This is the perfect occasion to show that two people can come together and achieve great things no matter what their pasts are. We’re hoping that by you doing this, the enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor might die down a little. It’s absolutely ridiculous how the animosity has lasted so long between the two houses.”
Harry nodded, agreeing with how ridiculous the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was. It had never really bothered him whilst he was at Hogwarts; it had just been one of those things that had been there before his time and would carry on after he was gone. Now though, he thought differently. When his youngest son Al had started school the previous year, he’d been sorted into Slytherin, whilst his older brother James was a Gryffindor. He knew that the house rivalry had taken its toll on his two sons, as despite their occasional squabbling, they were fairly close. Their houses encouraging both of the boys to hate the other was hard on them, and things had been tense between the two when they’d arrived home for the summer. They wanted to like each other, they did like each other, but they didn’t want to be ostracised by their schoolmates for failing to behave in the proper Slytherin or Gryffindor-like manor.
“And before you ask,” The woman continued, “No, we could not have picked a different member of each of your respective houses. So gentlemen the choice is yours. You can work together to organise this celebration, or you can not, and it won’t go ahead, and everyone will know that it was due to you two not being able to put aside your childishness for a few weeks in order to get one simple thing done.”
Harry gave the Professor a flat look. That wasn’t much of a choice.
“So if we were to agree to this, what would the job actually entail?” Malfoy asked, leaning forward slightly in his seat as if he were riveted with attention. “How long would it take, what resources do we have, what are the specifications?”
Harry stared at the other man for a moment in amazement. Malfoy sounded like he was thinking about this seriously, which didn’t sit right in Harry’s mind at all. Shouldn’t Malfoy be protesting a bit more about having to work with a Gryffindor, or a Potter, or a Muggle-lover, or something? He shouldn’t be sounding so mature about the whole thing. Not that Harry was going to protest anymore - he thought the Professor had a point about their age and the reasons for choosing them, but why would Malfoy acquiesce so quickly? Surely he hadn’t grown up. The thought was ridiculous.
“Yes,” Harry said, turning his attention back towards his old Head of House. “When’s it going to be held? What exactly do we need to do Professor?”
Professor McGonagall gave the two men a brief, tight smile. “First of all, please feel free to call me Minerva. Neither of you are students any longer.”
“Of course Minerva,” Malfoy says smoothly. “And the same applies here, please feel free to call me Draco. Mister Malfoy reminds me of my father.”
Harry nods quickly in agreement. Minerva’s been using his first name for years, he doesn’t really feel the need to give her permission now to use it, but since this is a more formal setting, he feels he should probably say something. “Likewise.” There, that was something. Harry sees Malfoy’s eye twitch, but Minerva gives him a small smile.
“Very well then, now let’s get on with business.” She says, picking up a number of pieces of parchment off her desk and sorting through them. “As you know, the Ministry would like to have a celebration for the twentieth anniversary of Lord Voldemort’s death and the end of the war. Before you say anything Harry, this is to honour those who died, and everyone who helped with the war - we all know how much you hate the limelight, so we’re not going to focus on the fact that you were the one to defeat him in the end.” Harry started to speak, but barely got a sound out before Minerva was holding out a hand for him to stop. “And yes, I know perfectly well that you weren’t the only one involved in the process Harry, but the fact of the matter is that you did defeat him. However, if we can move on please?”
Harry sat back in his chair and nodded slowly. The look Malfoy gave him suggested that he’d turned into something unpleasant at the bottom of someone’s shoe. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the other man.
“The anniversary is in two months, which should give you ample time to organise everything. The Great Hall is on offer for you to use, although obviously you won’t be able to decorate it until much nearer the time as the students will still have to eat meals in there. With the house tables and head table, we can accommodate about three hundred people, but if you were to change seating arrangements then I’m sure it could hold maybe three hundred and fifty. It’s left to you two to decide exactly how many people can be invited, and I have a list,” She flicked through several of the sheets of parchment before pulling out a fairly large page with lots of tiny scribbles on it, “Of people who are expected to be invited. Most of them are Ministry lackeys just wanting to put in an appearance at an important event, but they’re on the ‘we must include’ list, so I’m afraid that can’t be helped.”
Harry frowned. Of course he knew there’d be people who would only turn up to make sure that their faces were seen by the right people in the right place, but it was still galling to think about. What if it meant that those who genuinely wanted to pay their respects couldn’t turn up? And did that mean that he and Malfoy had to decide whom else to invite? Harry wasn’t sure he liked that responsibility. Surely anyone who wanted to should be able to come? He sighed, already sensing a stressful two months coming on.
“To finish up, there isn’t really much more I have to tell you. How the night goes will pretty much depend on how the two of you organise it, but there should be some time for speeches, and obviously people are going to want something to eat. You’ve been to plenty of Ministry functions, the both of you. You know how these things go.” Minerva finished, placing the parchment back down on the desk and looking at the two men.
“I certainly do,” Malfoy said wryly, “May I see that list?” He reached out a hand for the parchment which Minerva handed over instantly. “Well,” He said, eyes flicking back and forth over the list of names. “It could be worse. It’s not an open invite to each and every member of the Ministry, which means that people who want to go to commemorate their loved ones will be able to obtain an invite.”
This caused Harry to look at Malfoy appraisingly. Where on earth was the Malfoy he knew? He thought when they’d been arguing at the start of the meeting that the man would be just the same as ever, but it really did seem like he’d grown up. The old Malfoy wouldn’t have cared about people wanting to remember their love ones; he’d have just wanted to be seen with the right people in the Ministry. At least, that’s what Harry assumed. He had to remind himself occasionally that whilst Malfoy had been a prick at school, he didn’t really know him all that well.
Minerva smiled at Draco’s assessment. “Well gentlemen,” She rose from her seat and moved to the front of her desk, causing Harry and Malfoy to rise with her. “I shall leave the rest with you. Now if you’ll please excuse me, dinner is about to be served in the hall. You’re both welcome to join me if you like.”
Harry grinned but shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I think it might mortify my children to have my turn up at dinner time. They’d probably feel like I was checking up on them.” Which he sort of would be, he supposed, since if he joined the staff for dinner he wouldn’t be able to resist asking how the three of them were getting on, especially Lily who was still in her first year.
“I hate to agree with anything that Potter says,” Malfoy said, with just a touch of humour in his voice, “But I’m going to have to on this occasion. Scorpius might never forgive me.”
Harry wondered at how soft Malfoy’s expression seemed to go when mentioning his son. Who knew the man had a heart?
“Very well, Harry, Draco.” Minerva nodded at each in turn, before sweeping from the room almost Snape-esque, only pausing to call over her shoulder, “I look forward to seeing what you can do.”
Once the woman had left Harry turned to face Malfoy, trying to think of something to say to him. He was saved, however, when Malfoy deigned to speak first.
“Look Potter,” he began with a small frown. “I’ve never really liked you, and you’ve never really liked me. But it’s been twenty years since we last had to deal with each other on a regular basis, and whilst I don’t know about you, I’ve certainly grown up since then.”
Harry decided that protesting the idea that he hadn’t grown up probably wouldn’t be the most grown up thing to do, so he stayed silent.
“Plus,” Malfoy continued, “If the amount my son talks about yours is any indication of how close they are to each other, then I’m sure we’ll soon end up talking to each other a lot more than we’d like to anyway, organising visits to our respective houses. Therefore I’d like to propose a truce.”
“A truce?” Harry asked with a small smile. “If what you say is correct Malfoy, then we’re probably better trying to become more friendly than just a truce. For the sake of the celebration and our children’s sanity, I’m willing to put the past behind us. We could be friends?”
Malfoy was silent for a moment, looking at Harry as if trying to work out what he was. Then he held out his hand.
“Very well then. I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy.”
With a grin, Harry reached out and shook it, remembering a similar scene nearly thirty years previous that ended so differently.
“I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”
Author: aylarah_scale
Type: Fiction
Length: 2015
Main character or Pairing: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, just play with him a bit :P
Warnings: None
Summary: Twenty years after the war means it’s about time Harry and Draco review how they should interact.
Card Interpretation: "Friendship and union. An alliance to achieve a goal."
Author Notes: This definitely isn’t how I was originally imagining this fic - it was going to be much longer and have a lot more plot, but life got in the way and if I wanted any chance of getting it written in time, it had to be shorter. I hope it’s still enjoyable.
“You want us to what?”
“Professor, surely you jest.”
“It’s just insane, that’s what it is. Why on earth -“
“ - Would you think us doing this is a good idea?”
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and looked over her spectacles at the two men who sat before her. “Well for one,” She stated crisply, “You’ve just managed to finish each other’s sentences.”
The two men glanced at each other and pulled a face.
“Mister Potter and Mister Malfoy, you are nearly forty years old. I would request that you start acting like it, and stop behaving like four-year-olds.”
Harry often wondered at how even at his age, the woman in front of him could make him feel like he’d forgotten to hand in a piece of homework. It had been over twenty years since he’d last sat in a lesson taught by the woman, but at the moment it felt like it was just yesterday. He glanced at the man sitting in the chair beside him, smiling slightly when he saw that Malfoy seemed to be squirming under the Professor’s gaze just as much as he was.
“You have been chosen for this task for several reasons.” Professor McGonagall continued. “You were both prominent figures in the war, even if you Mister Malfoy were on the other side for a large portion of it. This is the perfect occasion to show that two people can come together and achieve great things no matter what their pasts are. We’re hoping that by you doing this, the enmity between Slytherin and Gryffindor might die down a little. It’s absolutely ridiculous how the animosity has lasted so long between the two houses.”
Harry nodded, agreeing with how ridiculous the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin was. It had never really bothered him whilst he was at Hogwarts; it had just been one of those things that had been there before his time and would carry on after he was gone. Now though, he thought differently. When his youngest son Al had started school the previous year, he’d been sorted into Slytherin, whilst his older brother James was a Gryffindor. He knew that the house rivalry had taken its toll on his two sons, as despite their occasional squabbling, they were fairly close. Their houses encouraging both of the boys to hate the other was hard on them, and things had been tense between the two when they’d arrived home for the summer. They wanted to like each other, they did like each other, but they didn’t want to be ostracised by their schoolmates for failing to behave in the proper Slytherin or Gryffindor-like manor.
“And before you ask,” The woman continued, “No, we could not have picked a different member of each of your respective houses. So gentlemen the choice is yours. You can work together to organise this celebration, or you can not, and it won’t go ahead, and everyone will know that it was due to you two not being able to put aside your childishness for a few weeks in order to get one simple thing done.”
Harry gave the Professor a flat look. That wasn’t much of a choice.
“So if we were to agree to this, what would the job actually entail?” Malfoy asked, leaning forward slightly in his seat as if he were riveted with attention. “How long would it take, what resources do we have, what are the specifications?”
Harry stared at the other man for a moment in amazement. Malfoy sounded like he was thinking about this seriously, which didn’t sit right in Harry’s mind at all. Shouldn’t Malfoy be protesting a bit more about having to work with a Gryffindor, or a Potter, or a Muggle-lover, or something? He shouldn’t be sounding so mature about the whole thing. Not that Harry was going to protest anymore - he thought the Professor had a point about their age and the reasons for choosing them, but why would Malfoy acquiesce so quickly? Surely he hadn’t grown up. The thought was ridiculous.
“Yes,” Harry said, turning his attention back towards his old Head of House. “When’s it going to be held? What exactly do we need to do Professor?”
Professor McGonagall gave the two men a brief, tight smile. “First of all, please feel free to call me Minerva. Neither of you are students any longer.”
“Of course Minerva,” Malfoy says smoothly. “And the same applies here, please feel free to call me Draco. Mister Malfoy reminds me of my father.”
Harry nods quickly in agreement. Minerva’s been using his first name for years, he doesn’t really feel the need to give her permission now to use it, but since this is a more formal setting, he feels he should probably say something. “Likewise.” There, that was something. Harry sees Malfoy’s eye twitch, but Minerva gives him a small smile.
“Very well then, now let’s get on with business.” She says, picking up a number of pieces of parchment off her desk and sorting through them. “As you know, the Ministry would like to have a celebration for the twentieth anniversary of Lord Voldemort’s death and the end of the war. Before you say anything Harry, this is to honour those who died, and everyone who helped with the war - we all know how much you hate the limelight, so we’re not going to focus on the fact that you were the one to defeat him in the end.” Harry started to speak, but barely got a sound out before Minerva was holding out a hand for him to stop. “And yes, I know perfectly well that you weren’t the only one involved in the process Harry, but the fact of the matter is that you did defeat him. However, if we can move on please?”
Harry sat back in his chair and nodded slowly. The look Malfoy gave him suggested that he’d turned into something unpleasant at the bottom of someone’s shoe. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the other man.
“The anniversary is in two months, which should give you ample time to organise everything. The Great Hall is on offer for you to use, although obviously you won’t be able to decorate it until much nearer the time as the students will still have to eat meals in there. With the house tables and head table, we can accommodate about three hundred people, but if you were to change seating arrangements then I’m sure it could hold maybe three hundred and fifty. It’s left to you two to decide exactly how many people can be invited, and I have a list,” She flicked through several of the sheets of parchment before pulling out a fairly large page with lots of tiny scribbles on it, “Of people who are expected to be invited. Most of them are Ministry lackeys just wanting to put in an appearance at an important event, but they’re on the ‘we must include’ list, so I’m afraid that can’t be helped.”
Harry frowned. Of course he knew there’d be people who would only turn up to make sure that their faces were seen by the right people in the right place, but it was still galling to think about. What if it meant that those who genuinely wanted to pay their respects couldn’t turn up? And did that mean that he and Malfoy had to decide whom else to invite? Harry wasn’t sure he liked that responsibility. Surely anyone who wanted to should be able to come? He sighed, already sensing a stressful two months coming on.
“To finish up, there isn’t really much more I have to tell you. How the night goes will pretty much depend on how the two of you organise it, but there should be some time for speeches, and obviously people are going to want something to eat. You’ve been to plenty of Ministry functions, the both of you. You know how these things go.” Minerva finished, placing the parchment back down on the desk and looking at the two men.
“I certainly do,” Malfoy said wryly, “May I see that list?” He reached out a hand for the parchment which Minerva handed over instantly. “Well,” He said, eyes flicking back and forth over the list of names. “It could be worse. It’s not an open invite to each and every member of the Ministry, which means that people who want to go to commemorate their loved ones will be able to obtain an invite.”
This caused Harry to look at Malfoy appraisingly. Where on earth was the Malfoy he knew? He thought when they’d been arguing at the start of the meeting that the man would be just the same as ever, but it really did seem like he’d grown up. The old Malfoy wouldn’t have cared about people wanting to remember their love ones; he’d have just wanted to be seen with the right people in the Ministry. At least, that’s what Harry assumed. He had to remind himself occasionally that whilst Malfoy had been a prick at school, he didn’t really know him all that well.
Minerva smiled at Draco’s assessment. “Well gentlemen,” She rose from her seat and moved to the front of her desk, causing Harry and Malfoy to rise with her. “I shall leave the rest with you. Now if you’ll please excuse me, dinner is about to be served in the hall. You’re both welcome to join me if you like.”
Harry grinned but shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I think it might mortify my children to have my turn up at dinner time. They’d probably feel like I was checking up on them.” Which he sort of would be, he supposed, since if he joined the staff for dinner he wouldn’t be able to resist asking how the three of them were getting on, especially Lily who was still in her first year.
“I hate to agree with anything that Potter says,” Malfoy said, with just a touch of humour in his voice, “But I’m going to have to on this occasion. Scorpius might never forgive me.”
Harry wondered at how soft Malfoy’s expression seemed to go when mentioning his son. Who knew the man had a heart?
“Very well, Harry, Draco.” Minerva nodded at each in turn, before sweeping from the room almost Snape-esque, only pausing to call over her shoulder, “I look forward to seeing what you can do.”
Once the woman had left Harry turned to face Malfoy, trying to think of something to say to him. He was saved, however, when Malfoy deigned to speak first.
“Look Potter,” he began with a small frown. “I’ve never really liked you, and you’ve never really liked me. But it’s been twenty years since we last had to deal with each other on a regular basis, and whilst I don’t know about you, I’ve certainly grown up since then.”
Harry decided that protesting the idea that he hadn’t grown up probably wouldn’t be the most grown up thing to do, so he stayed silent.
“Plus,” Malfoy continued, “If the amount my son talks about yours is any indication of how close they are to each other, then I’m sure we’ll soon end up talking to each other a lot more than we’d like to anyway, organising visits to our respective houses. Therefore I’d like to propose a truce.”
“A truce?” Harry asked with a small smile. “If what you say is correct Malfoy, then we’re probably better trying to become more friendly than just a truce. For the sake of the celebration and our children’s sanity, I’m willing to put the past behind us. We could be friends?”
Malfoy was silent for a moment, looking at Harry as if trying to work out what he was. Then he held out his hand.
“Very well then. I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy.”
With a grin, Harry reached out and shook it, remembering a similar scene nearly thirty years previous that ended so differently.
“I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”