Mrs. Malfoy sighed and hugged him again. Harry felt the flutter of her eyelashes against his shoulder that probably meant she was closing her eyes. "It's a process of adaptation, Aldebaran. It will take time to get used to you, and time for you to get used to us. I know you still jump when we call you by name. But we want to call you that. We love you, we want you to love us. And I will tell your father and your brother to keep their mouths shut on certain words and certain attitudes."
"That doesn't mean they'll stop believing them, though."
"As you cannot change who you have been for twelve years overnight, Draco cannot change who he was for twelve years, either," Mrs. Malfoy explained, leaning back and studying Harry. "And your father has been as he is for much longer than that. Still, I will tell them to behave. In return, I ask that you give them a chance, and not insult your brother."
"Tell him to stop calling me Alde, then."
"Yes, I will." Mrs. Malfoy gave him a misty smile. "I cannot tell you what it means to me to see you standing here in this room. To know that you went through—what you went through, but now you are safe, and you are home."
Harry swallowed. "I wanted parents when I was growing up. I just thought I would never get them. And now I have a father who hates my best friend's family and a brother who was my rival for a year and a half. It's weird."
"Neither of those things is as important as the fact that they are your father and brother," Mrs. Malfoy said firmly. "I only ask that you give them a chance. Draco has heard stories of you all his life, which is the reason he can accept you at all, in the way that I'm sure he wouldn't have if we'd adopted another child. He'll want to make you comfortable, And let me speak with them about things like Draco insulting your friends and Lucius having his…beliefs. I am sure that I can persuade them to change for you."
"If they have to be persuaded to change, does it really matter? Is it real?"
"We all have to work on making this real," Mrs. Malfoy said, her arms tightening around him.
And that was true enough that Harry felt a little calmer, and let her talk with him about the kinds of pictures he might want to have on his walls, and whether he wanted to change the color of the carpet and the curtains on his bed.
....
"I…what?"
Harry stared at the enormous pile of gifts lying on the floor in front of him. There were two piles, but while he had been sure that the Malfoys—his mum and dad, that was so weird—wanted to spoil him, he had naturally walked towards the smaller one, assuming the bigger one was for Draco. It was beyond strange to think that the bigger one was for him.
Even stranger, Draco was grinning smugly at him. "I added a few things to the pile for you, Aldebaran." At least he'd stopped with the stupid nickname, even if it meant that Harry had to hear his awful full name even more often.
Harry glanced over his shoulder. They were in the middle of an enormous drawing room with so many mirrors on the walls that their reflections flashed distractingly back and forth, and which was decorated with all kinds of tree branches. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy stood behind him and smiled the way Uncle Vernon had when he got a new car. They nodded encouragingly at the pile, which was decorated with more branches, and what looked like a pile of ivy.
"Come on," Draco said. "What, did you never do this before?"
"Draco," Mrs. Malfoy chided. Draco sat down with a huff and reached for the top present on his pile.
Harry sat down slowly in front of his. He'd have expected all the presents to be wrapped in green and silver, or maybe white and silver, which were the dominant colors in Malfoy Manor, but it seemed that his parents had found at least one variation of every single color. They were all different sizes and shapes, and all different paper.
"I never did get to do this before," he whispered, and then he tore open the first present, which turned out to be a thick woolen cloak, pure white wool with a huge silver Malfoy swan on the back. The swan was part of the family crest, which Mr. Malfoy was teaching him about. Harry swung it around his shoulders, and gasped aloud at how warm it was.
"Imbued with a permanent Heating Charm," Mr. Malfoy said, sitting down behind him on a silver thing that was called a chaise long-goo or something like that. "We want you to be warm in the storms of life, Aldebaran."
Harry looked down and touched the cloak so that he didn't have to show his face.
The present Draco was holding up was a similar cloak, but it had an underlining of green, so Harry watched it without envy. Mr. Malfoy had had a talk with him the other day that had seemed obscure, but Harry had finally worked it out: Mr. Malfoy was trying to ask if he was really happy in Gryffindor House or wanted to transfer to Slytherin.
Harry had firmly and clearly refused to leave his House. Yes, some of the other Gryffindors were being idiots right now, but he could still deal with that. He could deal with it pretty well if he gave up on hoping for Ron to talk to him each time he walked into the common room. Right now, Ron wouldn't do that. Harry had to accept that and go on.
"And look," Draco sang out as he took another box off the top of the pile and opened it to reveal a huge assortment of chocolates. "The best of Honeydukes!"
"That's the sweet shop in Hogsmeade, right?" Harry had seen a box on his pile that was probably the chocolates for him, but he ignored it and poked curiously at a package that looked like a broom but was only about half the length. A camera flash went off next to him and he looked up self-consciously.
Mrs. Malfoy was lowering the camera, smiling at him. "I just wanted to have a photograph of both of you," she explained. "Before this, we only had a few pictures of you right after you were born, Aldebaran."
Harry nibbled his lip. The smile on Mrs. Malfoy's face was so sincere, or at least it looked like it, and Mr. Malfoy was also beaming as he sat there with a cup of tea….They looked ordinary right now, even though Harry knew they really weren't. Maybe now was a good time to ask.
"Could you please call me Harry?" he asked. Mrs. Malfoy's face darkened with a shadow of pain, and Harry had to turn away from her, but he faced Mr. Malfoy. "It's just—I really, really can't get used to that name."