BEAUTIFUL DISASTERS ｢DRARRY｣

PART 7

He stood in front of the somewhat-familiar statue. He felt nervous and kind of wished Draco was there, just for the sake of seeing such a familiar face. Of course, Draco was busy teaching, and although he wanted to watch, he decided that a visit to the Headmistress was due.

"Albus," he muttered to the statue, and watched as it began to move. It was a Thursday, about three weeks since he first came to Hogwarts, and he decided that it was about time he asked certain questions. He hopped onto the moving stairs, anxiety rippling through his veins.

He reached the door, and before he could chicken out or decide that this was a bad idea, he knocked. From inside, he heard someone shout come in! and he decided to fuck it. He opened the door.

As usual, Minerva McGonagall was at her desk, and she did not look surprised at all to see Harry. "I was beginning to wonder when you would pay me a visit," she said, and Harry realized that he was expected to come. It was no wonder, really; Draco had been telling him since day one that he had to go to McGonagall to ask certain questions.

"I'm here for answers," he said, and she simply nodded and gestured to the seat in front of her desk. His legs still jittery, Harry walked over and sat down in it.

"Tell me the story about the war," he whispered, as if it was a taboo. He knew it was a sensitive topic for everyone, and he felt bad for asking, but he had to know.

McGonagall nodded. "It's a long story. Would you mind coming every Thursday for biscuits and stories?"

Harry blinked in surprise; the last thing he expected was to be invited for a weekly session, complete with biscuits. He would also have to miss at least one of Draco's classes, which was a real bummer, but he saw Draco every day...

Harry nodded. "If that's all right, yes please."

She cleared her throat. "I'll start from the beginning, then. The very beginning of the war. Now, there was once a young girl named Merope Gaunt... she was a descendent of Salazar Slytherin, who I assumed Draco has told you all about?" Harry nodded. "Merope had a bit of a bad life; she was terrorized by her father and brother. She also fell in love with a Muggle, although it was unrequited.

"Merope bewitched the Muggle boy, whose name was Tom Riddle. She tricked him into wedlock and although later he escaped, it was too late, and she was pregnant with his child. Long story short, she died after giving birth, and the young boy was given to an orphanage. He was to be named Tom Marvolo Riddle; Tom after his father, and Marvolo after his grandfather. He grew up in the orphanage alone, unaware for a long time that he was born to a very ancient pure blood family."

Harry listened intently. He didn't doubt McGonagall, of course, but what did this have to do with a war?

"Now, because his father had been bewitched the entire time he was with his mother, the young boy was incapable of feeling love. This lead to him bullying other children and taking what wasn't his. However, he was incredibly smart, and incredibly cunning. He never got caught.

"One day, a man named Albus Dumbledore, bless his soul, personally went to the orphanage to talk to Tom. He was there to tell him that he was a wizard, and that he would be leaving to go to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, still slightly confused. "What does this have to do with—"

"Tom Riddle grew to become Voldemort, the reason for the war."

Harry was almost stunned; he didn't know what he was expecting, and maybe it was a bit obvious, but he certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Mr Potter, I believe that's enough for today," she said, and Harry's heart rate spiked.

"What? No! I want to learn more!" He said, fully aware that he barely learnt anything about the actual war itself.

"Next Thursday, my boy. I'll have some biscuits ready," she said, and dismissed him. Harry sighed and got up from his chair, walking to the door. Before he could open it, however, he turned back, remembering something that he'd talked to Draco about.

"Can I be Sorted? Just out of curiosity?" He asked, and McGonagall nodded. While she got up and walked to one of the shelves in the room, Harry backed away from the door, anxiety prickling at him.

She grabbed a beaten up old hat from the shelf and placed it on Harry's head, who was already standing near her. Instantly, the hat began to speak, but only to Harry.

"I certainly sense a lot of bravery here... quite a bit of loyalty... I would say Gryffindor, maybe, but you would do splendidly in Slytherin, as well... very self-preserving, yes... very ambitious..."

"Slytherin!" The hat shouted, this time out loud, and he felt the hat being taken off by McGonagall.

"I certainly wasn't expecting that," he heard the Headmistress mumble, and Harry found that he agreed, although he did see where the hat was coming from...

"Goodnight, Headmistress," he mumbled, finally leaving the office.

The hallways seemed to be extra long on the way back, but eventually he did reach Draco's classroom. He walked in, knowing well that classes should be over, and was pleased to see that he hadn't interrupted anything. Draco sat at his desk, head down and hair covering his eyes, scribbling onto a paper that Harry assumed was someone's homework.

Draco looked up when Harry walked in, and knowing it was just him, went back to scribbling. "How was it?" He asked, his attention still on the paper on his desk.

"It was okay, I guess. She didn't tell me much," Harry said, honestly. "Just about Tom Riddle's parents." He watched carefully, and was surprised to see that Draco didn't flinch this time. Hopefully he was becoming more used to the mentioning of the war?

He walked up to Draco's desk, and saw that he wasn't marking a test or anything, but was in fact doodling on a spare piece of parchment. Harry smiled, although he didn't know why.

"I got Sorted," he said, now beside Draco's desk, looking down at him. Draco turned his attention to Harry and raised an eyebrow.

"And?" He asked, and Harry couldn't
contain his grin.

"Slytherin," he said, and watched as Draco raised his eyebrows even further.

"I thought you'd be another insufferable Gryffindor," he said, his voice highlighting his surprise.

Harry shrugged and smiled. "Guess not," he said.

Draco turned back to his doodles, which occupied half the page. They were so small that Harry wondered how long Draco had been at it.

"Well, run along, Mr Potter," he said, his eyes on his doodles. Harry just shrugged and grabbed a book from one of the nearby shelves, which happened to be a fourth year astronomy book. The subject somewhat interested him, so he figured that it would do. He brought it to one of the desks in the first row and sat down at it, feeling Draco's eyes following him.

After that, silence fell upon them, the only sounds in the room being the turning of pages and the scribbling of a quill against parchment. The silence felt awfully comfortable and almost domestic. Harry felt his heart rise as he read about the stars and felt Draco glancing at him every now and then.

Harry decided that he liked Hogwarts. A lot.