The Legacy of Salazar

Ice Cream with Draco

"I still can't believe that your dad let you come. Isn't he supposed to hate me?"

Draco didn't speak for a moment, his hand hesitating over his sundae of green tea ice cream. It'd been three days since the evidence hearing, and Merlin had expected Lucius Malfoy to bar his son from ever spending time with him again. So the fact that Narcissa had kept her word about Draco joining Merlin for ice cream that week had surprised him.

"I think my mom talked to him," Draco replied at last. He watched as Merlin took another bite of ice cream—chocolate with pecans. "Watching the hearing probably helped."

"I thought that would have made it worse. I admitted to standing in Voldemort's—" Draco coughed, "—way."

"Well," Draco glanced around and lowered his voice; "they have a habit of allying themselves with the strongest player. The instant He disappeared they cosied right up to the ministry, and since, well..." he trailed off pointedly.

Merlin stared at him. "Are you telling me that I may have won your father's allegiance?" he asked, feeling smug.

Draco snorted. "C'mon, you didn't think it'd be that easy?" He shook his head. "No, but I think he's realized it might be safer not to get on your bad side—just in case." He smirked and ate another spoon of ice cream.

"I'll take what I can get." Merlin didn't say anything more for the moment, scooping out the last few melting chunks from his bowl. From across the room, he could see more than one person brandishing a copy of The Daily Prophet, his name plastered across the front page.

Merlin wasn't sure what kind of media response he'd been expecting. He had read Rita Skeeter's articles before, known that she would detail the evidentiary hearing and put some sort of spin on it. But when a squat man ambushed him the first time he left the parlour the day after the hearing, holding a camera and snapping three photos before Merlin could even open his mouth, he'd actually blushed. Of course, the media had loved that. The photo ran the next day, under the headline, "Boy Who Defeated Quirrell Shy of Attention," with Merlin's photographic image staring blankly at the camera before his cheeks unmistakably darkened and he disappeared back into the parlour.

"They haven't approached you for an interview yet?" Draco asked, noticing where he was looking.

"I think I have Dumbledore to thank for that." Merlin could remember how the Headmaster had tried to keep Merlin's privacy before.

Draco snorted. "That won't last long. I'd be surprised if this Skeeter woman doesn't make an appearance while you're walking around Diagon Alley."

Merlin grimaced. "Sort of like that photographer."

"Yeah!" Draco had finished his ice cream too. "The hell was that Merlin? Blushing? You're making it too easy for them."

"Ugh, I know," he ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't even know what happened. I just got embarrassed—"

"Embarrassed?" Draco repeated indignantly. "You're kidding me."

"How was the ice cream, kiddos?"

Florean Fortescue had walked over, smiling at the pair of them. His eyes flickered to the empty ice cream bowls and his grin broadened. "Want a refill?"

"Oh no, Mr Fortescue," Draco said quickly. "Mother will probably have a fit if I eat too much." He shot a look at Merlin that dared him to ask for more. Merlin wanted to laugh, the two of them could probably eat third helpings but he too didn't want to antagonize Narcissa Malfoy. Not now that she'd actually allowed the two of them to hang out.

"I'm fine with just this," Merlin said looking up at Florean.

Florean laughed and took the two empty glasses off the table. "Give a holler if you change your mind. We want young Mr Malfoy to come back, after all. Wouldn't want to be inadequate hosts," and he left their table.

"Okay, I'm officially jealous. How do you not end up eating ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?"

"Who says I don't?"

It took a moment for Draco to realize that he was joking. While Merlin dodged an attempted kick, the bell of the shop door clanged. Narcissa Malfoy wore cyan blue robes, the heat of the summer day having made thick black cloaks impractical. Her blonde hair was pulled back in an elegant bun, and she systematically scanned the shop once before seeing the pair of them in the corner. She did not approach, or speak a word. All she gave was a small nod, and she walked back out with another soft bell.

Draco got to his feet at once. "Time to go," he said heaving a loud sigh. "We'll do this again soon, right?"

"Course." Merlin stood up as well. "Maybe you'll invite me over for tea and biscuits or something," he added, donning the queen's British accent.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right, and maybe my father will adopt a muggle." He shook his head. "Well, at least I'll see you when I get my school supplies."

Merlin walked with him to the front door and waved as Draco joined his mother. Narcissa nodded to Merlin as well, before leading the way back up the street. Perhaps where he stood with Lucius would remain ambiguous forever, but at least Narcissa seemed to tolerate his friendship with Draco. He'd go so far as to say that she even liked it—the way that he was a good influence on her son. He wished he could say with confidence that Draco was safer but—well, he was planning to stand directly in front of Lord Voldemort's path.

So how much safer would Draco be really?

"That was a short visit."

Florean had joined him beside the door, and Merlin shrugged in reply. "Didn't expect a visit at all, to be honest."

"You know about his family, then." It wasn't a question.

Merlin glanced at him, hesitating. Should he admit that he knew that Lucius Malfoy was still loyal to Lord Voldemort? Somehow it didn't feel right to voice it. Florean seemed to realize this because he continued without a response.

"I'll invite him to your birthday anyway. Maybe you'll get lucky again." He stroked his short goatee and smiled. "Along with, oh—the bushy-haired girl from the station. Hermes?"

"Hermione?" Merlin supplied, now staring at him. "But my birthday isn't until the end of July." They were still several weeks out.

"I think the Malfoy's would appreciate some notice." He ruffled Merlin's hair. Someone rang the bell of the counter and he turned around. "Duty calls."

Merlin watched him for a moment before heading up to the flat above the shop. In the living room, Silas was reading one of his schoolbooks and he looked up as Merlin entered. He frowned. "You're done already?" he asked, shutting his copy of, Language and Form: A collection of Short Stories and Essays.

"Had just enough time to finish our ice cream," Merlin said snapping his fingers. He shook his head. "You were welcome to join us, you know."

"Nah, you needed to catch up."

Merlin laughed. "Yeah, but I know you're dying to talk to him about Quidditch."

His foster brother grinned in reply. "Right, so next time be prepared for me to steal him away from you completely."

"Consider me prepared, what're you reading?"