Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction in the Harry Potter fandom and in this site, so please don't throw knives at me or anything if you dislike... Moreover I don't live in an English speaking country so, if you find any grammar, vocabulary or punctuation mistake, feel free to let me know, since I have no beta at the moment.

This is SLASH as in boyxboy so, please, if it's not your cup of tea and it will never be, kindly, leave.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters do not belong to me (sigh), they are property of J.K. Rowling. Writing this gave me a lot of satisfaction, but certainly not money.

Prologue

"Draco! Draco!"

Harry had been knocking on the hard, polished mahogany door for almost ten minutes now and his knuckles were starting to protest. "Open this door, dammit! At least let me explain! … Fuck."

"Language, Mr. Potter"

Oh. How could he have forgotten her? Of course Narcissa was still standing there, maybe wondering why exactly Harry Potter, of all people, was in her house and currently trying to pull down the door of her son's bedroom.

When she spoke again her voice was, of course, extremely polite, but just as cold and threatening as her husband's had been. "Mr. Potter, could you please explain why my son yesterday came home in tears, in the middle of the night?"

"How can you know he was in tears? You said it yourself: it was the middle of the night!"he remarked.

"Many middle-aged women suffer from insomnia, especially if they have seen and lived through what I have." Then, softly, almost in a whisper, she added "I had not seen him cry since the end of the war…"

Harry sighed. This was going to be difficult. Finally he nodded.

"Okay, I'll tell you everything, but we should talk somewhere more… private, I believe."

She raised a single, unbelieving, eyebrow, in the same way he had seen Draco do so many times… Draco…
"All right" she said, snapping him out of his reverie "Please, follow me".

And follow he did, watching as the mother of his… lover? Friend? Fuck-buddy? Arch-enemy? -'Draco' he thought 'just Draco' - led him through a magnificent candle-lit corridor (after all, could anything less than magnificent be worthy of Malfoy Manor?) to a refined, cosy little parlour, where she sat gracefully on one of the cream-colored armchairs.

"Please, Mr. Potter, take a sit" she said, seeing as he had not moved from the threshold.

A little depressed, Harry walked forwards and plopped down on the small couch beside her chair.

"So... is there something in particular you want to know?"

She just kept on observing him, in silence, frowning slightly.

"I guess I'll just start from the beginning then ... but you must promise me" he added quickly "that you won't skin me alive in the middle of my tale and that you'll let me get to the end safely, at least".

He smirked, a little flushed.

"You should know better than that, Mr. Potter" Narcissa said smiling in a dangerous, yet somehow motherly manner. "I would never do something as unrefined as skinning someone alive"

"Yeah, poison would be more your style, wouldn't it?" Harry whispered, thinking aloud.

"Excuse me?" But, despite the threatening tone of her voice, this time she looked sincerely amused.

"Never mind! Let's get to the story... well... it all began more or less a month ago, at the Ministry..."

And this is the end of the prologue... I hope it was interesting! I'm sorry it's so short but I'm not (and will never probably be) one for long chapters. I'm a terribly insecure writer so... reviews (of any kind) are loved if they help me to do better.

Next chapter features: angry/mischievous Ron, mention of a childish Draco and a quite amused (but still uncertain) Harry.