An astonishingly boring sixth year did not mean Harry wanted the summer to be utterly awful. Less than two weeks after arriving at Number Four Privett Drive, Harry threatened the Dursleys with descriptive examples of things he would be able to do in the easily foreseeable future, and demanded to leave. They let him go in exchange for promises that he wouldn't do anything and they'd never have to see him again. On his way out the door he advised them to move before the wards fell, but he really couldn't care if they did or not.

Several nonmagical weeks in a muggle motel involved a lot of take away and telly, and out of sheer boredom, Harry also finished all of his summer assignments and read enough books to make even Hermione jealous. It was nice to actually have access to his school trunk for once. With his birthday conveniently at the end of July, the attendant hadn't batted an eye when Harry had paid cash through the month and then moved out right on time.

After settling his things in his new room at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry went back down to the bar and the fireplace. He tossed in a pinch of floo powder, calling out Malfoy Manor as he stepped into the green flames.

Nothing happened.

Harry did this twice more, then bought a butterbeer and sat down. When he finished his drink, he tried again.

This time the green flames pulled him in, spun him past dozens of other fireplaces, and then deposited him stumbling into an opulent receiving room. Two wands were pointed directly at him. Lucius Malfoy stared at him with an elegant sneer while Draco's expression didn't quite conceal his surprise.

"Mr. Potter, welcome to Malfoy Manor. I wondered who so crudely knocked against my wards. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Thank you, Lord Malfoy. I wish to have a few words with your heir. His presence here is quite convenient. I need not intrude further." Harry very carefully held both hands open, not reaching for his own wand.

Lucius gestured to Draco with his off hand.

"What's to stop us from hexing you, Potter?" Draco asked.

"Nothing, Heir Malfoy. Feel free to be so foolish when I came through from a public floo after three very visible passes against your wards. No one keeps records of such things."

Draco scowled.

"Valid answers also include manners, courtesy, hospitality, or any other variety of formal etiquette. After all, your father did bid me welcome. I know my training in protocol is lacking, as my Godfather had very little time and less desire to teach me, but even I can answer for the basics. Simple curiosity might also suffice." After a moment he shook his head slightly and added, "I really have been hanging out with Hermione too much. That was almost worthy of her."

"You should have chosen better friends."

"And you should have chosen to be polite until you knew where we all would wind up. You, Heir Malfoy, are the reason why I'm a Gryffindor."

"What?" Draco's wand veered to the side and he hastily aimed it at Harry again.

Lucius kept his wand firmly pointed at Harry, though he directed his glare to his son.

"You were an irritating little git when we first met in Diagon Alley, and then on the train you insulted other first years so casually that I rejected you personally as well as the house you hoped to join yet so poorly represented. When the hat offered me Slytherin, I declined because I didn't want to share a dorm with you for seven years. I sat on that stool thinking 'not Slytherin' over and over until the hat gave in."

Draco's pale complexion grew ashen. Harry looked at his father who also looked somewhat ill.

"My regards, Lord Malfoy. I thank you for your time. That is all I wished to say." Harry turned back to the fireplace and tossed in a pinch of floo powder from the mantle box, calling out, "Diagon Alley".

When nothing happened, Harry stepped back into the receiving room, concern flaring through him. While telling Malfoy off seemed like fantastic first thing to do for coming of age, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

"Lord Malfoy, do you mind?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he answered in a voice of silk, wand still raised.

"No one leaves the Manor without my permission." The new voice came from the far end of the receiving room. A familiar tall, dark haired man stood framed in a doorway looking at the visitor with great interest. A chill ran through Harry. If this man heard their discussion, Draco Malfoy was going to die.

Everyone turned to face him, though Lord Malfoy's wand remained firmly aimed at Harry.

"My Lord, permit me to formally introduce to you Harry Potter. I believe you have met before."

"We have, Lucius, more than once." Lord Voldemort turned to Harry. "Meeting you here is unexpected."

"I was unaware that you reside here, Mr. Riddle."

Draco's eyes widened while neither Lucius and the Dark Lord showed any response to Harry's use of the Dark Lord's youthful name. "Yet you do not seem surprised."

"No one else could usurp Lord Malfoy's rights within his own manor."

"You reckoned that quickly."

"For years, you've been the first to cross my mind when things go wrong. More often than not I've been right."

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor, Heir Potter." Riddle sounded almost amused.

Harry shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He was somewhat surprised that the Dark Lord acknowledged his status. Both Malfoys had snubbed him despite his own attempts at courtesy, not that he cared much for either the formalities or the snubs.

Riddle raised an eyebrow.

"Because eleven year olds are required to make poor life choices with an artefact that's a thousand years out of date."

"I see. Let's continue this discussion over tea."

Harry nodded. There really wasn't any other choice. He was already dead and everyone present knew it, except possibly Draco. Apparently, Riddle didn't see a need to be rude about it.

Lucius Malfoy finally lowered his wand.