hi confused readers who will inevitably get this notif! i'm rewriting!! that's why it happened (:
also, apologizing in advance for the ending of this chapter. I knew what I wanted to happen but I just wasn't sure how, so it's very rough draft-esque. I'll come back and redo it later, but i just wanted to get this chapter up now (:
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Of all the places at Malfoy Manor there were none quite as peaceful as the gardens. She could sit there for hours without being bothered, best of all, by Lucius Malfoy. Draco seldom came outside either – he wasn't keen on the peacocks – so (Y/N) was able to spend her time reading letters from her friends without fear of being caught.

Hermione was sending letters once a week and she could expect a letter from Seamus or Dean nearly every other day. From Ron, she could expect a letter once every few weeks – if there was a reason to write. Harry, however, hardly found the time. It was nice to hear from them; since Dobby's leaving, the manor felt incredibly empty. Rarely did her godfather give her the time of day and since summer holiday began, most conversations she and Draco shared turned into arguments. It was alright talking to Narcissa, but it often made (Y/N) quite sad; she could no longer share everything with her as she had when she was young.

Though she and Harry had saved countless lives and Hogwarts itself at the end of their second year, the Malfoys still disapproved of their friendship. (Y/N) had been quite convinced for the first few weeks of Summer that Narcissa was alright with it, but she soon learned that wasn't the case when she got in trouble after reading a letter of his in the drawing-room. Her godmother expressed her fear of (Y/N) being hurt if she kept around Harry – "it wouldn't be the first time!" Narcissa had said – but her godfather didn't share the same sentiment. (Y/N) suspected he'd warned her to stay away just so she wouldn't be too happy.

It was warm that day, and quiet. The clouds rolled by peacefully and from somewhere far away, (Y/N) could hear the faint song of the bluebirds. She sat under a willow tree, gazing up through the leaves. In her lap was a letter from Dean, who was visiting London with Seamus. They were kind enough to send her a picture and a Muggle chocolate bar, but (Y/N) desperately wished she could have gone with them. She'd never been in the Muggle world before, and she would have loved nothing more than to explore it with her best friends.

Ron had spent the majority of Summer in Egypt with his family after they came into a large sum of money. He said that most of it had gone to the trip, but the rest would be used to buy him a new wand. (Y/N) was relieved; she knew it would spare them all a lot of headaches.

Hermione was traveling, as well. Her family took a trip to France and she wrote to (Y/N) gushing over the wizarding history she learned. She told (Y/N) that she rewrote her entire History of Magic essay Professor Binns assigned over the holiday to include everything that she learned. However, she was worried it would be too long, it was two rolls of parchment longer than the requirement.

Harry was spending another dreadful summer with the Dursleys. They had banned any instance of his life at Hogwarts – no writing to friends, no talk of magic, he wasn't even allowed to do his homework. However, sometimes at night, he told her, he would do his work under the covers by flashlight, and that was when he would write to her. Last she heard from him, his Aunt Marge was coming to visit, and she sounded just as dreadful as the rest of the Dursleys.

"(Y/N), dear, come inside," called Narcissa Malfoy from a few yards away. "We're nearly set to go,"

Very rarely would her godmother come herself to fetch (Y/N). Mostly it was Dobby, and after him, their new house elf – a clumsy little thing called Jipney. She'd been making a better effort lately; maybe she sensed they were growing apart, too.

(Y/N) was sure to hide Dean's letter in her book before she stood.

"It'll just be us this year. Your father's gone to the Ministry."

"What for?" asked (Y/N).

"For reasons that don't concern you," Narcissa smiled, smoothing out (Y/N)'s hair. "No matter, he's never been fond of going into Diagon Alley. This way, we'll spare him the trouble."

"Right,"

When they got inside, Draco was idly poking piano keys in the drawing room. He glanced up only momentarily.

"There you are, (Y/N)." She could hear his smile even though he was turned away. "Thought maybe you'd wandered off and Black got a hold of you,"

"At least I'd be far from you."

"Oh, quit," Narcissa said firmly. "You're family, please act like it."

(Y/N) tried her best not to roll her eyes. Little Jipney approached, trembling, and passed (Y/N) her traveling cloak. She smiled in thanks.

"Mother, I was only teasing!" Draco whined.

"Jokes are supposed to be funny," said (Y/N), sticking out her tongue. Narcissa pulled on her ear. 

What (Y/N) and Draco knew of Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban came through muffled conversations they listened in on. They heard enough to know he was dangerous; he killed twelve muggles and an unlucky witch or wizard (that part wasn't quite clear). It was enough to make (Y/N)'s blood run cold, and she wrote to each of her friends warning them to be especially careful.

"Alright, Mother," Draco groaned, squirming away from Narcissa's cold hands as she fastened his traveling cloak.

"Now, come, both of you." She outstretched her hands expectantly.

Both of them still pouting, they latched onto her hands and apparated to Diagon Alley.

(Y/N) still hadn't gotten used to the sensation. She found it to be incredibly unpleasant and would much rather take to using the Floo. However, the Malfoys preferred to arrive at their destination without being covered head to toe in soot.

She landed, feeling quite dizzy, just outside of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"We'll stop here first," said Narcissa, holding open the doors. "Then we'll get your books. And if you two can make it through this trip without arguing, you can each pick out something you'd like."

(Y/N)'s eyes brightened. "Anything?"

"Anything," she nodded, smiling warmly. "Now, go on,"

(Y/N) still had her sights set on a brand new broom. Earlier that month, a new model, the Firebolt, was released. It was said to be the fastest broom in the world. It would do wonders for her at quidditch trials that year, and she would love to see the look on Draco's face when she had a better broom than him.

Madam Malkin got them set up straight away, stood on two platforms in front of a large mirror. She pinned (Y/N)'s robes first, making idle conversation about the upcoming school year – which subject they were most excited for, if they'd heard anything about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who'd be coming to replace Lockhart after his most unfortunate accident. Once she finished pinning, she moved onto Draco's robes, and with a swish of her wand, (Y/N)'s robes began to fit themself.

She watched the needles and threads work through the fabric. Mauve tape measures the same color as Madam Malkin's clothes scurried about her form as quickly as a pair of silver scissors. (Y/N) looked at her reflection and she was struck with a thought.

"Mother, what can you tell me about my parents?"

Narcissa was quiet, but her blue eyes fell idly on (Y/N) in the mirror. Draco peered curiously over his shoulder as (Y/N) stared intently at her godmother's reflection. After a long moment, she finally spoke.

"I hardly think that's something we should talk about here."

(Y/N) thought a robes shop was just as good a place as any. "Well, Madam Malkin, you had to know the (L/N)s. You fitted them, didn't you?"

"Oh, certainly! Every one that came to Hogwarts! Each of them Slytherin, except for one."

"Me, you mean,"

Madam Malkin looked up, startled. (Y/N) hadn't meant to sound so sad. "Oh, no, dear! As a matter of fact–"

"Enough, if you please," Narcissa said firmly. "I hardly believe you're the one to talk about her family. Are you nearly finished?"

The rest of the fitting passed by harrowingly slowly. (Y/N) felt rattled; never once had she considered the possibility of someone in her family being like her, largely due to the Malfoys having never told her. She wondered what house they were in – Gryffindor, too, perhaps? – or if they felt diffident about it as she did.

She knew well enough to keep her questions to herself. They'd be answered later, if at all. And in the case her questions were not answered, she had an entire year of field trips to Hogsmeade to figure it out; surely someone in the village would remember the (L/N)s through all their years at school.

When Madam Malkin was finished, she hurried to ring them up, much quieter than when they first entered the store. (Y/N) kept to the storefront for fear of being scolded. She'd just started looking at a pair of rose-colored robes when she saw a very familiar boy with round glasses pass by the window.

(Y/N) rapped on the window without thinking, and Harry Potter turned. His wide emerald eyes fixed on her and she saw the surprise cross his expression just before he beamed at her. (Y/N) found herself smiling, too.

She wanted to go outside and hug him, but she knew there was a bell on the door and her mother would know she'd left. Instead, she pointed to the bookshop around the corner. Harry looked over, but found nothing, and looked back with an evidently confused expression.

After a few more moments of pointing, Harry got the idea and hurried off to Flourish and Blotts. He just disappeared behind a family of wizards when Draco appeared behind her.

"What are you doing?"

"These robes are pretty," said (Y/N) thumbing the rose fabric. She noticed the subtle look of disappointment when he realized he couldn't get her in trouble. "Don't you think so?"

"I don't know," he grumbled. "I guess,"

They left shortly for the bookstore. As soon as they were inside, (Y/N) dismissed herself to look for Unfogging the Future and disappeared between the bookshelves.

Flourish and Blotts was nowhere near as busy as it had been the year prior when Lockhart was doing his book signing. (Y/N) was relieved for it; it was easier to find Harry without a crowd. And, she wouldn't leave with the headache she usually had after having to listen to Lockhart speak.

She found Harry in a section on quidditch, not to her surprise. He was thumbing through a book (Y/N) couldn't see the title of, but she saw the same picture of Joey Jenkins smacking a bludger she'd seen a hundred times before.

"Flying with the Cannons again?" she teased.

Harry looked up and his face brightened. "It's my favorite book,"

(Y/N) hadn't realized how much Harry changed when she was looking at him through a display window. In the two months since she'd last seen him, he shot up a bit – taller than her, now – and his skin had gone darker from the summer sun. It brought out the striking green of his eyes quite nicely, she thought, and he looked older somehow – handsome.

She didn't bother hiding her smile. "It's good to see you,"

Harry smiled warmly. "Yeah," he said. "It's good to see you, too."

She still wanted to hug him, but (Y/N) felt the moment had passed. So instead, she said, "What are you doing here? I didn't think I'd see you until we were on the train."

"Well..." Harry began sheepishly. He looked for the spot Flying with the Cannons belonged in, but (Y/N) thought it was just so he wouldn't have to meet her eyes. "When Marge came – my aunt – I sort of... blew her up..."

"What?"

"She's fine now!" Harry hurried to say. "And I didn't do it on purpose, it just happened. And the Minister came and said I'm still allowed back at school, so everything's fine, really,"

"But what happened?"

"She was talking badly about my parents. I got upset, and next thing I knew she was floating down Privet Drive." He allowed himself to smile at the image. "That's why I'm here. I had enough and I left the Dursley's early."

The way Harry recounted his escape made (Y/N) think he was incredibly brave.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," she said. "Are you staying at the Leaky Cauldron? Maybe I can visit you?"

"Oh," said Harry. He almost looked surprised, as though he hadn't expected her to want to see him again. "Yeah, okay."

"Good," (Y/N) all but sighed in relief. "It was getting boring at home. And if Draco said one more thing about me being a blood-traitor, I'd probably blow him up, too."

Harry laughed, which made (Y/N) grin. For a moment, she felt as though they were back at Hogwarts and she no longer had to worry about pretending to be someone she was not. She could simply be, and no one wanted anything more or anything less. No one that mattered, anyway.

She thought of tomorrow when it would just be her and Harry. She had to hurry to talk of something else when she felt her face grow warm. "Have you already got your books?"

Harry nodded. "Last week,"

"Then you can help me find mine. Do you remember where to find Unfogging the Future?"

Harry was able to show her where to go and after a few minutes, when she had her books, (Y/N) had to say goodbye. It was only a matter of time before Draco and their mother wondered where she was.

She and Harry agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron the next day at noon, and finally, (Y/N) got her hug when Harry said goodbye. He ducked outside of the bookshop and (Y/N) went to find Narcissa.

With books and robes bought, they only had a few more stops to make. (Y/N) and Draco each got new cauldrons and quills. When it came time to pick their gifts, (Y/N) abandoned the Firebolt and decided to get Alcestis a new cage – her old one was still beat up from its run with the Anglia. Draco chose a broom servicing kit, looking smug.

They arrived back home later that evening. After dinner and a shower, (Y/N) dismissed herself for bed early, but she could not sleep. She stayed up most of the night imagining her day with Harry.

Come morning, (Y/N) was sure to disappear before anyone would wake. It was just a few minutes before 8
o' clock when she threw down her Floo Powder and shouted, "Diagon Alley,"

And when she stepped out in the Leaky Cauldron, she found Harry sitting at a table eating his breakfast with his head bowed toward his school books.

"You're up early," (Y/N) teased, falling into the seat across from him.

He looked up, already smiling from when he recognized her voice. His green eyes watched her reach for a menu before he shot back, "So are you,"

(Y/N) only grinned; she couldn't think of anything else. She felt a bit strange sitting at a table with just her and Harry – older, almost. If it weren't for his stack of school books, she might have even convinced herself it was something more than two friends at breakfast.

"I'm almost through with this essay," he said. "I've only got a few lines left, then we can go."

"Go where?"

Harry looked up, but his eyes caught something behind her. (Y/N) turned to get a look herself just before a familiar voice shouted "Blimey!"

Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were coming in from London. They both had gotten taller – though Seamus, not by much – and seemed to have taken advantage of the extra sun that came with the holiday. They made a beeline straight for their table while Mrs. Finnigan made a stop by the bar, even though it was still quite early.

"I thought we asked you to write when you'd be in Diagon Alley!" Dean said, pulling out a chair and sitting beside (Y/N).

Seamus took the spot across from her, and Harry looked vaguely annoyed. "We're on our last day in London. Mum thought we oughta get our supplies now while we're here. Good thing, too, or we would've missed you,"

"Good thing," (Y/N) nodded. "How is London?"

"Oh, it's great," said Dean. "They have a lot of sweet shops, and today we're going to the cinema."

"Cinema?"

"It's like pictures, but there's sound," Seamus said. "Dad knows more about it than I do, but he stayed at the inn."

"You guys should come with us! It would be fun,"

"Oh," (Y/N) wasn't surprised to be invited, but she had hoped the two boys would forget to ask. "It does sound fun,"

Seamus nudged Harry's side. "What about you, Harry? You coming with us?"

"Sure," he answered. (Y/N) could tell he was disappointed too.

After breakfast, Harry ran all his things back up to his room, and then they set out to London. It was (Y/N)'s first time in the Muggle world. It was loud and busy, packed with people hurrying to their destinations. She looked at the tall, tall buildings, at the bright red double-decker buses, and wondered how on earth any of that could have been accomplished without magic.

They went on their way to meet with Seamus' father, a shorter man with thinning hair but a very nice smile. Then, they headed to the cinema.

Every few feet, (Y/N) would point at something and say, "Harry, look!" He would only laugh, nod, and tell her what it was. After a few blocks, he had to remind her that Muggles weren't typically as fascinated with telephone boxes as she was.

There was something called a photo booth in the cinema lobby. Seamus encouraged everyone to get inside. It was a tight squeeze, (Y/N) was crammed between Harry and Dean and unable to move her arms. Seamus, crouched down in front of them, reached up to press whatever option was closest, asking over his shoulder, "This is it, right, Dean?"

"What does it do?" (Y/N) asked, watching the countdown on the screen.

"It takes our picture," Harry sounded amused.

"How?"

But just as she asked, there was a bright flash.

(Y/N) rubbed her eyes as Dean and Harry laughed at her. Seamus adjusted where he sat on the floor. "It's doing another one!"

"Again?" (Y/N) asked.

Another flash, and Dean started laughing even harder. Harry wasn't much help, either; he only warned her it would take four pictures by the third flash.

She tried her best to smile for the last one, but Seamus was getting eager and rose on his knees between her and Dean.

When they looked at the pictures afterward, (Y/N) was disappointed. Everyone else was smiling, while she was looking quite bewildered. In the last picture, she was hidden behind a blur that was supposed to be Seamus.

She still asked to keep the pictures anyway, and tucked them safely into her pocket.

After a day's full of movie-going, sightseeing, and perusing sweet shops, (Y/N) and Harry said goodbye to Seamus and Dean. They returned to the Leaky Cauldron feeling quite full and quite tired.

(Y/N) was disappointed to say goodbye to Harry after what felt like so soon, but after a glance at the time, she knew she didn't have a choice. As she stood in the fireplace with floo powder in hand, she caught Harry's emerald eyes.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked.

And (Y/N) beamed. "See you tomorrow," she nodded.

And then, she threw down the powder and left for home.