Confessions of an Ex-Death-Eater

Tuesday 25th December 2007

Harry was sitting in the very crowded sitting room at The Burrow feeling somewhat satiated after one of Molly's sumptuous Christmas lunches which had followed a morning of home-Quidditch, first helping Gin umpire the kids on their training brooms and then a full-blown hour of him, Ron, Gin, George, Angelina, Audrey, Charlie and Bill playing four-aside over the field at the back. He was glad he'd managed to resume his running because, as always, the game was highly competitive and close. But Harry succeeded in snatching the Golden Snitch from Audrey despite the neck-and-neck chase around the field perimeter and between the other players and he, Ron, George, and Angelina won the game by a miniscule margin.

Teddy had thoroughly enjoyed himself. Molly Jnr, Fred II, Victoire, Dominique, and Roxanne had played three aside and he'd played as Chaser, managing to shoot three goals through the makeshift goal past Fred II. Since then, Victoire had monopolised his attention, idolising him and following him around, much to Harry's amusement and the ten-year-old's discomfort. Then he'd sat between Ron and Harry at the dinner table, the latter of whom had been very much forgiven for his 'argument' with Draco since their dinner and Teddy's sleepover with Scorpius.

The aftermath of the night out had been worse than expected, not least because he'd had to bat off a large amount of questions and teasing by the Weasleys for most of the day and do some serious explaining to Teddy that he and Draco were not getting married despite what the papers had said.

The morning after the meal, he'd Floo-ed to the manor for lunch and to collect Teddy, only to be confronted by Narcissa with pursed lips and a disapproving look on her face.

'I thought, Mr Potter, I made it quite clear that I wanted to make sure your intentions are honourable and that I expressly requested that you tell me when you have made up your mind about your feelings for my son. And then I wake up to this!' She threw a copy of The Daily Prophet onto the kitchen counter top in front of Harry.

He blanched.

The headline read: 'HARRY POTTER TO MARRY MALFOY HEIR?' and underneath was a photograph of the two of them sitting opposite each other, Draco leaning across the table and holding out the spoonful of chocolate torte, watching Harry with obvious wanton desire, and Harry leaning forward and sucking it off the spoon with his eyes shut and for all intent and purposes looking like he was performing a certain sexual act across the table.

It was excruciating. Especially watching the photo repeat the move over and over again. In fact, Harry thought, it was pornographic, no wonder Draco had moaned.

He scanned the article that the Prophet had run below the picture. It accounted how the reclusive Mr Potter had been spotted with millionaire Draco Malfoy at Luna Lovegood's restaurant in Diagon Alley which the eccentric but genius owner ran with her silent business partner Lady Pansy Rosier, nee. Parkinson. Of course, Harry and Draco's past was dragged up, their renowned rivalry at school and then the revelations in Confessions. It even detailed exactly what they had both eaten and drunk, surmising that the men were celebrating because they started the evening with champagne which they shared with their two school companions, Pansy and Luna. There were two further photographs, one of them holding hands across the table looking like they were about to devour each other and another of them leaving, with Harry kissing Luna goodnight while Draco's hand rested on the small of Harry's back. It then stated that neither Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy were available for further comment. Not that Harry'd been asked to comment before the article had been hurriedly written, printed, and published.

Harry spluttered in front of Narcissa, 'it's not what it seems.'

She raised an eyebrow, watching him intently in a way which was unerringly like Draco.