Soul Mate - Chapter 20:
When Harry finally managed to call Hermione’s father for help, Mr. Granger wasted no time.
He immediately contacted his daughter, and within minutes Hermione Apparated
to the Ministry of Magic her second trip that day. Breathless,
she burst into Kingsley Shacklebolt’s office with the news:
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were alive, stranded in Paris.
Kingsley moved fast. Through the Department of International Magical Cooperation,
he reached out to the French Ministry, secured clearance, and
dispatched a full team of Aurors to retrieve them.
When the search party finally located the two missing wizards in a luxury Parisian hotel,
the Aurors nearly cried with relief. After all the wild chases and
the hundreds of Howlers accusing them of incompetence,
they had done it they had found their heroes.
Each Auror grabbed one wizard Harry in one hand, Draco in the other and
within moments, they were back in the grand atrium of the British Ministry.
The moment Harry appeared, he was engulfed by Hermione and Ron,
who squeezed him so hard he could barely breathe.
Behind them stood Ginny, her face glowing with relief.
Harry crossed to her in three quick steps, took her hand,
and pulled her into a long, grounding embrace, murmuring reassurances against her hair.
Across the hall, Draco found himself caught up in his mother’s arms.
Narcissa had been waiting anxiously Lucius, bound by Ministry restrictions,
couldn’t leave the Manor but seeing her son safe and whole allowed her to finally exhale.
Kingsley stepped forward, smiling with visible relief.
“You two nearly scared the entire wizarding world half to death.
What happened after the Portkey took you?”
Harry glanced at Draco, then quickly recounted their ordeal.
He told the story lightly, downplaying the danger, but by the time he mentioned they had each
endured two Cruciatus Curses and a near miss with
Sectumsempra, everyone listening had gone pale.
“My goodness—the Cruciatus?” Narcissa’s voice trembled.
“Absolutely not. You’re both going straight to St. Mungo’s for a full examination.”
No one understood the curse’s toll better than she did.
Lucius had suffered it more than once, and Narcissa knew how
long its unseen wounds could linger.
“She’s right,” Hermione said firmly.
“You need to be checked, Harry no matter what you say.”
Harry looked like he wanted to protest but didn’t dare.
Draco wore the same grimace of annoyance beside him.
Between Hermione’s tone, Ginny’s worried stare, and
Ron’s silent agreement, he knew he didn’t stand a chance.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go.”
“Good,” Narcissa said smoothly, her tone softening as she turned to her son.
“And you, my little dragon?”
Draco’s posture changed instantly. He lowered his head, obedient as a schoolboy.
“I know, Mother. I’ll go too.”
Harry tried, he really did but he couldn’t help himself.
Laughter escaped before he could stop it.
Seeing Draco Malfoy, the proud, haughty prince of Slytherin,
looking so small and compliant was too much.
“Shut it, Potter,” Draco muttered, his gray-blue eyes narrowing.
“There’s nothing funny about this.”
Harry laughed harder. “Come on, Draco! It’s just you and your mother
it’s so different from your usual act. I can’t help it—haha—oh Merlin, I can’t stop.
Everyone around them froze. Harry? Draco?
The first names hung in the air like a charm gone wrong.
When exactly had these two started calling each other that? And why did it sound so natural?
The change was so absurdly fast it left the others staring, speechless.
Before anyone could recover enough to ask, Narcissa smiled,
took her son’s hand with one of hers, and clasped Harry’s with the other.
Without another word, she Disapparated the three of them straight to St. Mungo’s.
Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stood blinking at the empty air before hastily following.
Kingsley, now alone in the atrium, simply sighed, rubbed his temples,
and trudged back to his office.
St. Mungo’s Hospital had always been sacred ground.
Even at the height of Voldemort’s power, no dark force had ever dared to corrupt it.
The healers here worked with calm precision, treating everyone equally,
caring nothing for bloodline or allegiance.
It was Harry’s first visit, and he immediately understood why
Pansy Parkinson had once dreamed of becoming a Healer.
The place radiated purity and purpose its walls gleamed white and bright,
untouched by politics.
Narcissa led both young men to the Dark Magic Injuries ward for full examinations.
The results brought collective relief: the Cruciatus exposure had been brief,
even if doubled, and had left no permanent damage.
A steady course of restorative potions and rest would restore both wizards completely.
Narcissa exhaled softly, visibly reassured. Ron and Hermione followed suit,
their tension melting away. They all knew too well what the Cruciatus Curse could do
its victims driven mad or scarred forever.
“All right, Harry,” Hermione said, already slipping into command mode.
“You’ll take your potions every day, on time.” She turned to Ginny.
“You’re in charge of making sure he doesn’t sneak out of it.”
“Don’t worry,” Ginny said with a grin. “I’ll make sure he drinks every last drop.”
Harry groaned before he could stop himself. The very thought of choking down those bitter brews
made his stomach twist. He didn’t even bother arguing Hermione and
Ginny together were an unstoppable force.
Then Narcissa turned her attention back to Draco, her smile thoughtful.
“Now, my dear, you haven’t told us how you and Harry yes,
I suppose I should call you Harry now managed to become friends?”
Draco said nothing, only lifted a brow toward Harry.
Harry scratched the back of his perpetually messy hair,
trying not to look too awkward under her elegant gaze.
“Uh… well, ma’am—it’s simple, really. We cleared up a few misunderstandings.
So, yes, we’re… friends now.”
Ron made a strangled sound of disbelief before
Hermione clamped a hand over his mouth just in time.
“That’s wonderful,” Narcissa said warmly. “And please,
Harry, you may call me Aunt Narcissa. I knew your parents once.”
She stepped forward and gave him a gentle hug.
“I look forward to having you visit the Manor one day.”
Harry flushed crimson. “Ah—yes, Aunt Narcissa. I’d be honored. Thank you.”
He even attempted a proper bow he’d once seen in a book, though it came out awkward and stiff.
Narcissa didn’t correct him. She only smiled kindly, approvingly,
like a mother proud of her son’s effort.
After exchanging a few more words, she took Draco’s arm and left for Malfoy Manor.
Lucius would be waiting anxiously for their return.
Harry watched the spot where she had stood, an odd warmth spreading through him.
Since entering the wizarding world, he had gained one mother figure in Molly Weasley cheerful,
fiery, endlessly loving. But Narcissa Malfoy, elegant and poised,
had shown him a quieter kind of care.
And in that moment, Harry realized something simple and profound,
he had found his third mother.