Hello all! I very much enjoyed writing this, so I hope you all will enjoy reading it as well. This is my first published Harry Potter fic since 2012 (six years ago!) and I loved diving back into the fandom to share this story.

This work is cross-posted on AO3.

Dracaena

It was the last night of his third year when he noticed it. The little dot, almost indistinguishable amongst the others of its ilk, was mislabeled. Sitting in his bed, hunched over the Marauder's Map, Harry watched carefully as the dots in the Slytherin common room began to disperse as members the house headed to their dormitories. There was Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. But there was one name amongst the third year Slytherins that Harry didn't recognize. The dot was wedged firmly between Crabbe and Goyle, and the text was difficult to read, the letters crossing over the other nearby labels.

Still, Harry could recognize the last name. Malfoy. It was the first name that was wrong. It was possible that Draco was a nickname or a shortened form of a name, but Harry had the sense that Draco Malfoy would never permit the usage of a nickname. He was too certain of his own perfection to even doubt that something like his name would have a different, preferred version.

Then why did Malfoy's label say Dracaena Malfoy?

Aunt Petunia had a few dracaenas around the house. Harry had always liked them because the little plants were particularly hardy and didn't droop even if Aunt Petunia forgot to water them. They fared much better than the miniature banana tree Aunt Petunia had tried to maintain for a few months, and infinitely better than when Aunt Petunia had tried her hand at growing her own herbs, only to become frustrated with the slowness of the process and throw her basil plant out the kitchen window.

Harry watched, transfixed, as Malfoy's little dot moved away from the rest of the Slytherins and exited the common room. Rather than heading for bed, however, Malfoy seemed to step out into the dungeon corridor. His dot meandered to the castle atrium, down through the trophy room, and then up a back staircase to the Astronomy Tower.

It was stupid, but Harry didn't care. The map never lies, he could hear Lupin saying.

Sliding out of his bed, Harry saw the rest of the Gryffindor boys sound asleep. They'd been packing all afternoon to prepare to return to their homes, and they were exhausted. Harry was too, if he was being honest, but the thought of going back to the Dursleys after having the chance of a real family with Sirius had kept him up. He didn't want it to end. He didn't want to leave the magic of Hogwarts and go back to another summer with the three people who most despised him.

Harry tucked the map into his pajama bottoms and slid a pair of trainers onto his sockless feet. Reaching into his truck, he retrieved the Invisibility Cloak and wrapped it around himself. He was only going to look, he told himself. He just wanted to make sure it was the real Malfoy and not an imposter like Scabbers had been. Besides, it was the last night of the year. What were they going to do, give him a detention?

Well, if Snape caught him, probably yes, but otherwise, Harry wasn't too worried. Everyone's spirits seemed lighter now that the dementors had left the grounds.

Sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower was much easier without a small dragon in tow. Harry padded up the long staircase, careful not to breathe too loudly. At the top, he double-checked the map – it still said Dracaena – and then cautiously poked his head around the corner and into the observatory.

Draco Malfoy was there. The normal, regular, ordinary Draco Malfoy.

He was sitting at the edge of the tower, gaze turned upward to the stars. His body was still, and the moonlight reflected brightly off his luminescent silver hair. He could have been a statue carved from marble and shaped by the finest sculptors.

Harry wanted to leave, but he couldn't. He felt rooted to the stop, his feet suddenly as heavy as boulders. Malfoy was radiant in the moonlight, in the way that a masterpiece is beautiful in a gallery. Harry felt as though he were intruding on something private, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

He knew he shouldn't do it, but some strange compulsion inside of him was already acting, was already pulling off the Invisibility Cloak and was clearing his throat and was saying, "Dracaena."

The syllables hovered in the cool evening air. Then, Malfoy whirled around, eyes flashing dangerously, and the beauty of the moment was shattered. "Potter," Malfoy snarled through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, then closed it stupidly. He didn't have anything to say to make the situation better. Instead, the idiotic part of his brain made him say, "Dracaena," again, and this time, Malfoy's fury was raw and visceral. He stood angrily and strode towards Harry, shoving him roughly against the stone wall.

"What did you call me?" Malfoy hissed furiously, hands fisting on the material of Harry's shirt. "Say it again!"

"Dracaena," Harry whispered, and Malfoy dropped him with a shuddering breath, the anger seeming to run out of him as swiftly as it had come.

"Why would you say that?" said Malfoy quietly. "Why did you call me that?"

"I…" Harry was too stunned to think. "I don't know." He gave Malfoy a good hard look for the first time and saw the dark bags under his eyes, the sunken misery that usually hid behind his trademark wicked smile.

Malfoy turned away and walked back to the edge of the tower. "Go away, Potter." When Harry made no response, he turned around and shouted, "Go!" with his finger shakily pointing at the door. Harry realized with a start that Malfoy's eyes were glistening with tears that he had not yet let overflow.

"No," he said quietly to Malfoy. He took a cautious step forward, hands both held up, almost as if he were approaching a wild animal.

"Leave!" Malfoy shouted again, his voice suddenly raw and quavering. The tears had begun to leak onto his face, tracing meandering paths down his nose and cheeks.

Harry took another step towards him instead. When they were face-to-face with one another, Harry whispered quietly, "Malfoy… is your name Dracaena?"

Malfoy broke.

Thick, wet sobs overtook his body as he sat down hard on the stone floor of the tower. Harry came around his side and carefully put his arms around Malfoy, holding the other boy to his chest while he wept. Malfoy had no pride left, Harry realized. This boy – this broken, sobbing, lonely boy – was the truth of who Malfoy was. He was small, and scared, and unloved, and… well, rather similar to Harry.

When Malfoy finally quieted, he made no move to escape Harry's arms. Harry stroked one hand through Malfoy's hair gently in the soothing gesture he'd always wished someone would do for him when he was a child. When the sniffing and quiet blubbering stopped as well, Malfoy finally sat up on his own and gazed at Harry regardingly. "Why did you do it?" he finally asked.

There were so many things he could be asking about. Harry was quiet for a moment before saying, "Because no one ever did for me."

Malfoy sighed. "Names are powerful. Far more powerful than you even know. When a witch or wizard is Named, it's not just an identity. It's their soul presenting itself to the outside world. If the wand chooses the wizard, then some believe the name chooses the wizard too."

"Your name is Dracaena," Harry said quietly. "But you don't go by it."

"My Naming went wrong." Malfoy's gaze turned upward. Harry could see his eyes tracing out the constellations. "My name is Draco. My Name is Dracaena. My parents… didn't want to accept it."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Malfoy seemed to be steeling himself for something. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly, as though he couldn't bear to see Harry for this. "Because…" he said. "Because Dracaena… it's a girl's name."

Harry felt a small metal ball drop right in the middle of his stomach. Oh.

"Are… are you a girl?" he asked cautiously.

Malfoy sighed. "Yes. No. I don't know. I don't know what I am. I'm a boy, or at least, my body is, but my Name... And sometimes I think…"

"Do you want to be a girl?" Harry said.

There was a long moment of silence.

"Yes," Malfoy said with feeling. "More than anything."

There was quiet on the tower.

"Well," Harry finally said, "if you think sometimes that you're a girl, and you want to be a girl, and your Name is a girl's name… then I think it sounds like you're a girl."

Malfoy looked over at him swiftly, his eyes (her eyes?) suddenly flashing with intense feeling. "I've never heard anyone say my Name out loud before," she said. "I've never had anyone see… see me."

"Your Name is your soul in an outward form, right?" Harry said. "So your Name means more than what your body looks like. And you're… you're Dracaena."

A few fresh tears were beginning to glint in the corner of Malfoy's eyes. "Buzz off Potter," she said, "before I get snot all over your pajamas."

"If we're on a first name basis, it's Harry now," Harry said. "It only seems fair."

Malfoy offered him a weak smile. "Buzz off Harry," she corrected herself, but she laid her head on Harry's shoulder and sighed quietly.

"Of course, Dracaena," Harry said, running his hand gently through Dracaena's moonlit silver hair. "Of course."

Thank you for reading! This was always intended to be a oneshot, but I like to imagine that Dracaena and Harry correspond over the summer and surprise everyone at the start of 4th year when they act like they've always been friends. In my eyes, they're both still young enough to be vulnerable with each other, because neither of them truly harden until after Voldemort's return the following year.

Incidentally, Dracaena is the Romanized form of the Greek "drakaina," which means "she-dragon." It is also a genus of plants (and, as Harry notes, they make good houseplants because they are easy to care for) and a genus of lizards.

All feedback is treasured and appreciated!