lomonaaeren

Thank you for all the reviews!

Part One.

Title: How Like Hatred (2/3)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters; I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Lucius/Narcissa, otherwise gen
Content Notes: Angst, AU of Chamber of Secrets, mild violence
Wordcount: This part 2800
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry has learned that speaking in Parseltongue makes some people hate him and others fear him. He had not learned that it would make Draco go straight to his parents and tell them that he has reason to suspect “Harry Potter” is actually his missing twin brother. As far as Harry is concerned, life would be a lot better if he was the Heir of Slytherin.
Author’s Notes: Another of my “From Samhain to the Solstice” fics, for agatag’s request about Harry actually being a Malfoy. I’m afraid that I couldn’t fulfill the request for a really long fic, but I won’t rule out a sequel in the future. As requested, this fic focuses more on emotional fallout than plot. It will have three parts.

Part Two

“But not really.” Ron was backed up against the wall of the staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower, his eyes so wide that Harry was surprised that he hadn’t sprained something. “You’re Malfoy. Or his twin,” he added, because Hermione had poked him in the side with an elbow, and Harry supposed it was about not supporting him. “Or you’re Malfoy who put that scar on your head for a prank. Not Harry. Not our Harry.”

Harry swallowed. He hated the feeling that he didn’t belong to them anymore. “Apparently my real name is Aldebaran Malfoy—”

Ron snorted hard, and then clapped his hand over his mouth. Harry gave him a tentative smile that Ron didn’t return.

“I felt the same way when I heard it,” Harry agreed. “But somehow I got taken to my mum and—I mean, the Potters when I was a baby. They conducted some tests that proved I’m a Malfoy.” Mr. Malfoy had done the blood magic after the bracelet test. Professor Dumbledore seemed to think he couldn’t prevent Mr. Malfoy from doing it then, because the bracelet had proven that Harry really was this Aldebaran bloke. He seemed to be in shock, and had just stood back and watched numbly.

“How did it happen, though?” Hermione asked. She at least sounded curious instead of upset.

“They think that someone called Sirius Black took me. Apparently he was my godfather and Mrs. Malfoy’s cousin, and he betrayed the—the Potters to Voldemort.” Harry ignored Ron’s flinch and took a deep breath. “Mrs. Malfoy said she heard something about how James Potter was infertile, but she’d ignored the rumors.”

“That’s it, though!” Ron broke in suddenly. “They’re rumors! You can’t trust her! She’s probably lying about everything. And you saw the way Malfoy’s dad went after my dad in the bookshop. How can you trust them when they’re lying about everything?”

“They did tests that didn’t lie—”

“Tests can be fooled,” Ron said, with a loud scoff. “And why would you want to be a Malfoy anyway? Especially one with such a stupid name?”

“Ron!” Hermione said. She sighed and looked at Harry. “It’s not as though I like Malfoys, Harry, but if the tests don’t lie, then I think you should try to get to know them. It must be wonderful to have your parents really be alive.”

“How can it be when they’re like that?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I just want you to know that I’m still me. I’m not going to suddenly start swaggering around with my nose in the air and believing in blood purity. I’m still here.”

“No, you’re not you,” Ron said, shaking his head. “You don’t look like Harry, and you don’t talk like him, and Harry would never make any deals with a Malfoy, no matter what kind of family he wanted!”

“Ron!” Hermione said again. She sighed and reached out to take his arm, but Ron backed up and kept shaking his head.

“It just isn’t right,” he said. “I mean—Harry, you’re Harry, not Aldebaran. You should have refused to let them turn your face that way and go with them, if you’re really Harry. If you’re going to stay Harry.”

“I’ll have you know—”

“No, listen to me.” Ron was pale instead of red, which made Harry feel an uncomfortable stir in the bottom of his stomach. “Malfoys have never tried to be friends with Weasleys. You can’t be my friend.”

“But I am your friend!”

“That just proves that you didn’t really know who you were, and neither did I.” Ron turned and walked up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry called after him. But Ron only said, when he was near the top of the stairs, “My Harry would have denied them.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting a family!” Harry yelled, as finally his temper cracked. He had known Ron would take this badly, but he had never thought it would be this bad. “You have brothers and a sister and parents, and you act like you despise them! And you want me to turn my back on them just because of what I look like and what my name is! You’re stupid!”

“Yeah, that’s the way it is.” Ron only nodded, looking abnormally calm. “Malfoys insult Weasleys.”

He disappeared. Hermione looked torn between going after him and staying with Harry. Harry looked at her and sighed, and the anger drained out of him.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he whispered. “But he wants things to be true that can’t be true. I don’t like the Malfoys, but I know they’re going to fight for custody, and they’re going to get it.”

“Of course they will.” Hermione came up and hugged him, lightly, probably sensing how stiff and uncomfortable he was. “It’s not right that you should have to turn your back on them because Ron’s upset. And—maybe he’ll come around. You know, when he sees that you’re not really turning into a different person because of the way you look.”

Harry nodded, although he didn’t really feel convinced. But what could he do? He’d explained things, and Ron had got upset and stormed off, and right now, he didn’t have much more time to stay and explain things. Mrs. Malfoy had said that he could have half an hour to speak to his friends, but then they needed to leave. There was some kind of legal documentation they needed to do, and that could only be done at the Ministry.

“Aldebaran!”

Harry cringed. Hermione did at the same time, and smiled at him with her lip trembling. “Do you think you can get them to stop calling you by that name? It really is awful.”

“I don’t know if they will,” Harry said, with a sigh. “As far as they’re concerned, Harry is a name that my kidnappers gave me, and they don’t want to use it.”

“If they really love you and would do anything for you, then they’ll get used to it.”

Harry paused, and then had to smile. Hermione’s idea was more than a little wonderful. At the same time, he didn’t know if he wanted to ask anything of the Malfoys.

But he would have to. They were going to control his life from now on.

That made Harry lose the smile. After eleven years with the Dursleys, he knew the worst they could do. He hated it, but he could survive it. How was he going to cope with the Malfoys? Especially since he’d seen Mr. Malfoy and Draco in that shop selling Dark artifacts? What did they own? What spells would they use to punish him if he didn’t do what they wanted?

At the same time, Harry knew that he couldn’t just give up and go along with everything they wanted. That wasn’t him. And he wasn’t an obedient little doll like the Malfoys would probably want.

Maybe if I bother them enough, they’ll give me back my illusion and let everyone pretend that I’m just Harry Potter?

It was an idea, Harry admitted, as Mrs. Malfoy called for him again and he hugged Hermione and then turned to go back down the stairs. It was definitely an idea.

*

“A Malfoy! Well, how wonderful indeed, how most wonderful!”

Minister Fudge had been saying some variation of that for the last hour, while they stood in a small room with a polished wooden table and chairs and waited for people called Aurors to bring in Sirius Black. Harry was getting tired of hearing it.

But he didn’t say anything, because he was clinging to the hope that Black would say that the Malfoys were wrong, and he was really Harry Potter. He looked up sharply as the door opened and the Aurors, clad in scarlet robes, dragged in Black.

Harry shivered. The man looked insane. Matted black hair clumped around his face, and he had grey eyes that looked like Mrs. Malfoy’s and Draco’s. And Harry’s, now. Harry shuddered a little.

The man glanced back and forth between them with no sign of recognition. Minister Fudge cleared his throat and adjusted his bowler hat. “I’m afraid that he’s not really all that sane, Mr. Malfoy.”

“That’s all right.” Mr. Malfoy waited until the Aurors left the room and then took out a sparkling vial from the corner of one pocket. “I assume that this stays between us, Minister?”

“Oh, well.” Fudge had eyes that darted back and forth like a rabbit’s when he was nervous. “The man didn’t consent to Veritaserum, you know, Mr. Malfoy,” he added, with a vague reproach.

“How could someone in the state he is in consent to anything?” Mr. Malfoy asked smoothly. “And we need answers.”

“Yes,” Draco said. He stood next to Harry, and he hadn’t moved away from him since they came into this little room through the fireplace. Now he leaned heavily, so that Harry nearly staggered from the weight. We’re supposed to be twins, but he’s taller and heavier than me. So maybe we’re not twins? “I want to know why he took my brother.”

Harry sneaked a look at Draco. Why did he want Harry? Wouldn’t he just enjoy being an only child, and see Harry as the competition? That was the way Dudley had always seen him.

Draco gave him a challenging stare, and Harry turned away, to look at Black again. It was still beyond weird to be reminded that the eyes looking at him now were the same color as his own.

He must have missed them pouring the Veritaserum down Black’s throat, because Mr. Malfoy was taking back an empty vial. Black’s head bobbed on his neck for a minute. Then he looked up with glazed eyes.

“Whazz?” he muttered.

Harry bit his lip, desperately afraid Black might not be able to talk. Then they would never get answers, and he would have to go along and be a Malfoy for the rest of his life.

Mr. Malfoy spoke. “State your name.”

“Sirius Orion Black.” The voice that emerged from Black’s lips was unexpectedly strong and firm, nothing like the other. This time, Harry hoped that Mr. Malfoy hadn’t created a potion that would just make Black repeat whatever the Malfoys wanted to hear. But no one else seemed surprised that he sounded that way.

“What are you in prison for?”

“The betrayal of James and Lily Potter.”

Loathing squirmed in Harry’s belly. Mrs. Malfoy had told him a little about the Death Eaters and the background of the crime that Black had been involved in. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t known about it before.

But, of course, he felt conflicted about it. Because it was terrible that the Potters had died, but they weren’t really his parents, but they had died protecting him, but they had stolen him…

“I think we have established the baseline for the Veritaserum,” said Mr. Malfoy, and then asked, “Did you steal our son, Aldebaran Malfoy, from his cradle and place him with the Potters?”

“Yes.”

Harry felt as though someone had punched him. He staggered back and grabbed something. He thought it was the table, but then he realized he was leaning on Draco. He drew himself free, or tried, but Draco wrapped an arm around his shoulders and refused to let go.

“Why?” Mrs. Malfoy asked the question, soft and heartbroken. She touched Harry on the arm, as if she wanted to hover between him and Black.

“Lily and James wanted a child. They couldn’t have one. They both got hit with curses during the war. They were both infertile.” Black was staring straight ahead, reciting the story as if it had happened to someone else. “They wanted it desperately. It was destroying them. I would have done anything for James. And I knew that you had two children. Why did you need them both? One of them could be rescued. He could go up in a Light family and he could have parents who would really love him and not use him as a status symbol. So I stole him, and used an illusion spell, and Lily and James conducted the adoption ritual to make it permanent.”

There was a dreadful silence in the room. Harry didn’t think he’d heard a silence like that when they told him he was a Malfoy. He just stood there and stared, and Mrs. Malfoy hugged him from behind, her quiet tears falling on his head. Draco seemed frozen, clinging to Harry and not moving.

Mr. Malfoy was the one who stepped forwards, his face dark with rage.

“So you came to visit us. Why did you do that?”

“I knew Narcissa had had twins. I was thinking of taking one. What did you need with two children? You—”

“Yes, you said.” Mr. Malfoy was almost hissing, although Harry didn’t think it was Parseltongue. “How could you do that to your cousin? You were close when you were young.”

“She married into the Malfoys. She wouldn’t do that unless she’d given up on her heart and decided that only ambition mattered. She would have married someone else and been happy that way.”

“You did it for the Potters?” Mrs. Malfoy had got her voice back, but her tears were still falling. Harry could feel them. He could feel that, and he could also feel a great numbness inside him.

“Yes. They were dying for want of a child. They were arguing all the time. I was afraid their marriage would end.”

“Why did they agree?” Mr. Malfoy asked. He was coiled and quiet now, but he still reminded Harry of a snake. “I hated James Potter, but I would have thought he had more honor than that.”

“All they wanted was someone to love. And once the illusion was in place, Harry looked like them. He was only a few weeks old. He could have been theirs. He was still innocent. They looked at him and they loved him at once.”

Harry closed his eyes. So his parents were the way he’d always been told they were. They’d loved him at once. They had been willing to die for him.

He was aware of Mr. Malfoy asking Black other questions, and some answers, like how Black had helped them with the adoption ritual and told everyone who asked that Lily had simply been concealing her pregnancy so they wouldn’t keep her from fighting in something called the “Order of the Phoenix.” And how James Potter had named Harry his heir at once and bragged about him to his other friends, someone named Pettigrew and someone named Lupin.

But his head was spinning so badly that he didn’t really listen. It was—it was so terrible. The Potters had loved and kidnapped him. Black had thought he was saving him and he’d kidnapped him. The Malfoys would have used him as a status symbol and they’d missed him.

Nothing made sense. He didn’t know what to do.

He must have said something like that aloud, because Mrs. Malfoy bent down and whispered in his ear, “You don’t have to do anything, Aldebaran. Just be yourself and let us love you and teach you how to be with us.”

“You’re my little brother,” Draco added. “It doesn’t matter who you were before or that you got stolen when you were little. That’s not your fault.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue that he was who he was and that he wouldn’t change, and not to call him Aldebaran, but then shut his mouth again. Honestly, he was tired of arguing. He was tired of standing here and listening to Black. He just wanted to leave.

Mrs. Malfoy seemed to sense it. She stood up and murmured, “Lucius?” Mr. Malfoy turned in the middle of asking another question and looked at her. “I am going to take the boys back to Hogwarts. Aldebaran needs to rest. Draco has agreed to field the questions for right now.“

Mr. Malfoy nodded and locked eyes with Harry. He gave him a fierce, proud smile and murmured, “You are handling this incredibly well. I am so glad you are home.”

Just a few words, but they felt as if they were the strongest ones Harry had ever heard. He let Mrs. Malfoy lead him and Draco to the door. Draco still had his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry managed to ask a question when they were in a lift going back up through the Ministry. They weren’t going to take the Floo back to Hogwarts, for some reason. “What’s going to happen to Black?”

“He’ll be in prison for the rest of his life,” Mrs. Malfoy said quietly. “We thought about having him go through another trial, but there’s no point. He already has the best sentence he can have. A Kiss from a Dementor would be too quick.”

Harry assumed the Kiss was some kind of execution or something. He said nothing, though. His stomach was roiling, and he didn’t know how to feel.

Black had done what he’d done for love of his best friend. The Potters had loved Harry. The Malfoys loved Harry, or they had loved the little baby they’d had and lost.

And then Black had betrayed the Potters, which maybe proved that love wasn’t so deep after all.

Harry didn’t know how to think, what to feel.

Mrs. Malfoy kept him close to her as they headed back through a huge space with a fountain in the center of it, whispering to him. “We’ll go as slowly as you need to. We have the rest of your life, Aldebaran. Twelve years is going to be nothing to it.”

Harry wanted to ask a million questions. Like how Mr. Malfoy had supposedly fought with Voldemort, and how he was going to make that work with Harry being Voldemort’s enemy.

But it was too much for one day, and he got back to Hogwarts and walked up to Gryffindor Tower when he could finally get away from the Malfoys, and went up to his bed and drew the curtains to get away from the Gryffindors.

It was so much simpler, at last, to just be able to fall asleep.