Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6225973.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Lucius_Malfoy_&_Narcissa_Black_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Dom/sub, Sexual_Slavery, Domestic_Violence, Unconventional_Relationship,
      Sex_Toys, Spanking, Whipping, Torture, Human_Trafficking, Captivity, Oral
      Sex, Voyeurism, Fetish, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fisting,
      Anal_Fingering, Brainwashing, Original_Character(s), Breathplay,
      Protective_Draco, Hurt_Harry, Hurt_Draco_Malfoy, Magically_Powerful
      Harry, Powerful_Draco_Malfoy, Magical_Bond, Psychic_Abilities, Psychic
      Bond, Body_Modification, Adopted_Harry, Puppy_Play, Child_Neglect, Child
      Abuse, Child_slavery, Child_Soldiers, Shota, Yaoi, Chan, Gender_Issues,
      Genderfluid, Crossdressing_Harry
  Series:
      Part 1 of Freedom_Series
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-12 Completed: 2017-05-14 Chapters: 61/61 Words: 320640
****** Freedom Bound in Chains ******
by Sensiblytainted
Summary
     Draco is stolen from his DeathEater family and turned into a sex-
     slave. The Dursleys sell Harry on the black market when he’s five
     years old. Thrown together, the boys form a magical bond, escape to
     live with a Muggle who is caught up in the mob, and eventually get
     discovered by the Magical world, but neither world considers them
     normal: Draco has been forged into an Alpha while Harry finds freedom
     in submission. This is the story of how Harry becomes bonded to Draco
     Malfoy and a ward of the Malfoy family.
***** August 1984 *****
A/N: Warning! This chapter contains child abuse, non-con, slavery, oral, hand
jobs, and dark topics. 
                                      ...
August, 1984
 
Four-year-old Draco Black was yanked from a deep, peaceful sleep and dragged
from bed. It was dark. The woman's face so close to his, and all he could see
were wide eyes.
“Come on! Hurry!” she yelled in his face.
So dark. He could hardly see as he was painfully yanked forward and toward the
door. And the air was thick, making Draco cough. His heart was pounding; Miss
Heather was screaming, “Hurry! Hurry! Go downstairs!” The other kids stumbled
and cried as she pushed them toward the door. Draco's pajamas grew damp with
sweat. It was so hot. Then he heard it. A roar. Like a dragon from a story
book. Then he saw the flickering light. Yellow and hot. Fire!
Draco knew fire was bad. He grabbed Jillian’s hand. She was the only one
younger than him at the orphanage and she slept in the bed next to his. He
pulled her downstairs, ignoring her loud, fearful screams. Bigger kids were
running away. The nurses were yelling for them to get out. Draco stumbled as
someone slammed into him from behind and hit his shoulder on the wall. He lost
Jillian’s hand and started to cry.
Then he was outside; he turned to look at the front of the orphanage. It was
burning! Flames jumped and flashed from every window. There were still people
inside. He could hear them scream even over the cries from all the kids around
him. Sirens pierced the night. People came running from all down the street.
Draco turned as a man took his hand. He looked up, tears streaking his face,
shocked and afraid.
“Come on. I’ll take you somewhere safe,” the man said gently. “We have to get
you off the street.”
Draco allowed himself to be tugged through the crowd. When they finally
breached the press of bodies, the man swung Draco up on his hip. Staring over
the man's shoulder, Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away from the burning
building. His home was burning to the ground.
He was spun around and placed inside a van. “Buckle yourself in,” the man
ordered gently.
Draco struggled to obey, but something didn’t seem right. “But… where are we
goin’?”
The man turned around with a white cloth in his hand. Draco's eyes widened as
the man slapped it down over his mouth and nose. Draco struggled and kicked,
but he was falling sideways and blackness crawled across his mind.
xXx
Draco woke and immediately rolled onto his side and threw up. Tears streaking
his face, he looked around. He was in a very small room. He could almost touch
each wall if he stood in the center and reached both ways. A single light bulb
hung from the ceiling. The walls were bare; the floor was tiled. The only thing
in the room with him was a big white towel that he had wrapped around him like
a blanket. A grate in the middle of the floor caught his attention. His vomit
was sliding toward it and dripping down.
He shuddered and crawled into the furthest corner from the only door. He wasn’t
stupid. He knew he was in big trouble. He knew the man who’d taken him wanted
to do bad things to him. He knew it might hurt a lot. Shaking, Draco drew his
legs up to his chest and curled into a tight ball. He sat there for an
eternity, wrapped around his fear, when the door finally opened.
The man from before gave him a smile and crouched down. His hair was thin and
oily, hanging around his face. His cheeks were wide and fleshy, his eyes seemed
small, but they never blinked behind his square glasses. He was big. Tall and
wide, pudgy, he filled the doorway completely. In his big hands, knuckles
dusted with dark hair, he had a bowl of rice, chicken, and vegetables. He
offered it to Draco.
Draco's eyes darted around, desperate for escape. His hands scrabbled at the
walls as he pressed himself tight into the far corner.
“Are you hungry? I bet you are. Come here, baby. Sit in my lap and I’ll let you
eat.”
Draco began to sob. He tried to get away, but there was no room. The man
grabbed him easily, dragging him across the tile floor and into his lap. Draco
sat rigidly as a large arm pinned him against the man’s chest. He could feel
how hot the man was. He was sweaty even through his clothes. Draco shuddered
and gagged, almost throwing up again. He wanted to turn and claw the man’s
eyes, to bite and scream. But he knew it would only get him hurt.
A spoon rose to his lips. Draco stared at the offering with sick dread, shaking
and terrified.
“You’re a good boy. Yes, you are. Come on. Open up.” The man smiled and rubbed
his cheek against the top of Draco's head when Draco finally forced his mouth
open. “Yes. That’s it. Good boy.”
xXx
Years seemed to pass. Draco never left the closet. He used the grate in the
floor to go to the bathroom. He was filthy, itchy, and it stunk. Sometimes the
man came with food. Each time he forced Draco to sit in his lap. It no longer
bothered him. Draco actually looked forward to the hated man’s visits. He was
lonely and bored. He thought he’d go crazy if he didn’t get out of here soon.
He was pacing the small room, literally bouncing himself off the walls just to
break the silence.
The door opened and Draco stilled. The man smiled down at him happily. “Hey,
baby. How are you? I brought you a surprise.”
Draco noticed that the bucket the man held was filled with soapy water.
“Let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll feed you, okay, baby?”
Draco stood still as the man pulled off Draco's shirt and then removed his
pants and underwear. A sponge pulled from the
man’s pocket felt good going over his dirty skin. Draco practically melted into
a puddle of goo it felt so good. Tears stung his eyes. He knew this wasn’t
right. Knew it was bad the way the man lingered over Draco's privates, rubbing
softly back and forth, back and forth. He wanted it to stop. He just wanted to
go home.
He looked up at the man tearfully. “Please…” he begged softly. It was the first
time he had spoken to the man, and his voice cracked and rasped from the long
silence.
“Hush, baby. I’m taking good care of you.”
Draco brought up his arm and pressed his face into the crook of his elbow. The
man dropped the sponge and touched him with his hand instead. Draco kept his
eyes tightly shut as his penis and balls were stroked and petted. The man’s
hand trailed further back between his legs. A large finger pressed at his hole.
Draco cried out, terrified.
“Trust me, baby. It’s not going to hurt. Hush, now. That’s it. Hush.”
Heart jack-rabbiting in his chest, Draco cringed as a slapping sound entered
the closet. A quick glance showed him the man was on his knees, pants open. His
thing was huge and red. It began to smell, even over the soap. That big hand
worked harder up and down as the man pressed and rubbed at Draco's hole. The
man’s fingers tapped at the entrance, threatening to go in but never actually
doing it. Draco bit down on his arm. The pain anchored him, distracted him from
what was happening. It lasted forever; the man alternating from stroking his
privates to teasing his butt. Draco felt a scream building in his throat. He
was covered in sweat, his body shook with fear. He didn’t know how much longer
he could stand it.
“Such a good boy. So beautiful… Yes…”
Slowly the slapping sounds got faster, the hand on his privates rougher.
Something gooey and hot splashed on his stomach.
Draco gasped and looked down to see white stuff splattered across his skin.
Dazed, Draco said nothing as the sponge came and cleaned him off once more.
“That’s it, baby. You were so good for me. Come here.”
He said nothing when he was dragged naked into the man’s lap and fed. The man
took Draco's clothes when he left, so Draco curled up naked in the towel, eyes
unseeing. He didn’t cry. He was empty.
It felt like years and years went by. The man visited him often, and now he was
withholding food unless Draco spread his legs, held his cheeks open, and let
the man touch.
xXx
Pale slender body, the boy on his knees, chest and check pressed to the floor
with his pale thighs spread. Those small hands reached back at his order to
expose his hole. A single silver eye, wide and dull, stared over the soft curve
of the boy's shoulder as the man knelt behind his prize.
“You are so good at this, baby. I knew you would be. So good.”
He lifted the camera and took several pictures of the provocative sight. He
stuck a finger in his mouth, wetting it. Trembling he reached forward and
touched that perfect, soft skin. Over the round cheek, down the crease. The boy
tensed and his back arched slightly. His eye glistened through his silky blond
hair so beautifully. His round mouth was open and panting, his cheeks
reddening. Up and down he ran his damp finger until it dried and the boy was
trembling and crying softly.
He sucked his finger in his mouth. He was hot and throbbing, panting almost as
hard as his boy. He couldn't wait any longer. He grasped those small hips in
one hand and pulled them closer. The boy rose up on to his hands and knees. His
head hung. Sweet boy-sweat coated the child's flawless skin.
Reaching forward with his wet hand, panting breaths and fast beating heart
roaring in his ears, he pressed his finger forward into the perfect heat of the
boy's body.
The child bolted up right, head flown back, and screamed as if he were dying.
The sound pierced through his haze and he yanked his hand free, spun the boy
around, and slapped him hard across his little face. The boy flew sideways and
hit the wall with a loud thud.
“Shut up, you stupid brat!”
Terrified for no good reason, furious and almost ready to burst his pants, the
man stormed from the room and slammed the door behind him.
xXx
“Hello, baby. It’s been two days. I know you’re hungry.”
Draco felt hallowed out and the food the bastard held smelled like heaven.
“Why… why are you doing this?”
“I’m just trying to make us both happy.” The man smiled and knelt down just
inside the door. He opened his pants and lifted his hands up, grabbing the door
frame. “I won’t touch you this time, baby. I promise. That's what you want,
isn't it? And I’ll give you all this yummy food. Just touch me. See how big I
am for you. It’ll be easy.”
Draco felt dizzy. He was so hungry. The man promised not to touch him, so how
bad could it be? He’d just do it quick and eat. Shaking, Draco crawled over on
hands and knees. His hair was lank and greasy. It fell in white strands around
his face and into his eyes. He lifted up to his knees in front of the man. He
was rewarded with a bright smile.
“Good boy. That’s it. Just put your hands around it.”
Draco dropped his eyes to the large thing. Carefully he wrapped a hand around
it, but his fingers barely circled half of it.
“Both hands,” the man rasped, voice low and hoarse. His eyes practically glowed
as they watched him.
Glaring hatefully, Draco used both hands to encircle the thing all the way
around. Then slowly he squeezed and brought his hands up and down, up and down.
“Faster, baby… Oh, just like that… My sweet angel…”
Draco worked his hands until he was panting, sweating, and nearly faint with
hunger. By the end, both of them were yelling - Draco from exhausted effort,
the man from pleasure. When the white stuff shot out, it hit Draco in the face
and up under his chin. Draco practically flung himself away, sobbing, and wiped
at his face frantically with the towel.
“Shhh, you did so good, baby. So good. Come here, hush. Come on. Eat for me.”
Draco snapped. He balled his fists and yelled up at his captor with all the
fury trapped inside. “Just leave it here! I don’t want to see you! I hate you!”
The man gave him a wounded look, but he did as Draco said. He pushed the food
inside and shut the door. Draco crawled over and ate it quickly. It tasted
salty from his tears. When he was done, he shoved the empty dishes away and
curled up in the corner.
“I’m gonna escape,” he promised, rocking himself soothingly. “No matter what,
I’m gonna get away.”
xXx
“Let’s try something new, baby.”
He knelt just inside the closet that held his treasure. The single light bulb
hung from the ceiling and cast clear white light, filling the small space. The
boy was thinner now than when he had stolen him, but he was still perfection.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from those perfect plush lips. Candy pink. His
heart felt close to soaring out of his chest in anticipation. His hands opened
his pants with practiced movements and took out his cock. He smiled and drank
in the boy's dead expression.
“I want you to put it in your mouth today, okay? I’ve got a really special
treat for you if you do a good job.”
The boy curled tighter into his corner, but his eyes tracked the piece of cake
he pushed into the closet. There was longing in those luminous gray eyes.
“Come on, baby. Please, for me? I’ll really like it if you do this.”
The boy was torn, tears spilled over the flushed cheeks, but then he was
crawling forward. Slinking like a beaten animal, big eyes staring at his rock
hard shaft, and it was so erotic he almost came right there.
“That’s it,” he gasped, breathless. “Come here. Good boy.”
The boy took a deep breath and his little hands wrapped with practiced ease
around him. The touch of those soft hands, cooler than his dick, lit him up. He
bit his cheek to keep from forcing this faster. Those hands slid up, steadying
the head, and it was happening. Those petal pink lips parted, eyes still wide
open as a tiny tongue lapped at the tip.
“Shit,” he hissed, nails practically digging into the wooden frame of the
doorway.
The boy opened his mouth as wide as he could and still his lips stretched a bit
as this cock pressed inside.
“Oh my god.”
The small throat tensed, the boy gagging.
On edge, strung tight, he practically barked his next order. “Close your lips
tight.”
The boy did his best, he really did, but barely more than the head could fit
inside. Desperate, he bounced his hips forward, pressed a bit of the shaft in
with the head. The boy pulled off with a gasp, dry heaving. He was sobbing now,
but there was no stopping this.
He didn't want to break the boy, his perfect boy, but he had to have it. Now.
No more waiting. He pulled the boy's head up and pressed at those lips. He
slipped inside, and this time, he wasn't retreating. A moaned whine escaped the
boy. Muffled by the rod in his mouth. Too soon, not even half way in that wet
heat, he hit the boy's throat. The boy's face was stretched, his eyes wild. The
boy's face red as he couldn't breathe, and it was so fucking good.
His fingers laced in the boy's silk-soft hair, he slowly fucked that tight
throat, ignoring the boy's thrashing. “Oh holy fuck! Oh yeah! Fuck yes, so
good!” He could see his dick moving in the boy's throat, the outline pressing
in and pulling out. He was dripping with pre-cum and the boy's spit.
“Fuckfuckfuck...”
Just as the boy's eyes rolled back into his head and the little fists stopped
beating on his thighs and hips, falling slack, he came so hard he screamed. His
vision went white, his body electrified.
Exhausted, he stared down at the child that lay crumpled on the floor,
enraptured as white cum dripped from the boy's nose, the corners of his mouth,
splashed his chin and cheeks. Still tingling from the intense orgasm, he
reached forward and turned the boy onto his side and hit his back a few times
until he gasped and coughed up semen.
He took several pictures of the gorgeous sight. “Such a good boy,” he praised
again and again. “You look so pretty, baby. Rest. I’ll bring you dinner later.”
xXx
“He’s beautiful. You should see this kid. His eyes… I could stare into them for
hours.”
Draco jerked awake, eyes crusted with sleep. The man was back.
“You sound like a woman, Howie!” a new voice barked, followed by a laugh that
was harsh and deep. “All I care about is his sweet little ass! How old do you
think he is?”
“Four or five. I’ve had him for about two months.” The doorknob turned. “You’ll
be careful with him? I really like this one, Sean. I'm ready to break him in,
but you're so much better at not making them bleed so much.”
Draco stared fearfully up at the men in his doorway. He pulled the towel closer
around him.
“Come here, baby. Let my friend see you.” The man reached in and grabbed his
ankle.
Draco trembled, but he didn’t fight as he was pulled out of the closet for the
first time in eternity. He lay limp, staring up at the strange, hairy man who
leered down at him. Big, rough hands lifted him and carried him over to a bed.
He’d been in the closet of the hated man’s bedroom all this time!
But he had no time to think about that. He was placed gently on his back.
Draco's captor crawled up next to him and petted his hair. For the first time
since being taken, Draco grasped at the man’s promises, desperately believing
that he’d be okay. He told Draco that he’d get a special treat of ice cream and
candy as soon as the other man was done playing.
What followed was something not even Draco's worst nightmares could have come
up with. His captor’s arm threaded under his knees, keeping them up by his
chest. The other arm was around under his neck, his elbow bent so his hand
could stroke Draco's hair. He was pressed close to Draco's side as Sean knelt
at the end of the bed in front of Draco's bottom. He felt on display and
vulnerable. He felt betrayed and frightened, so small and breakable. Sean’s
hungry eyes filled his vision.
He screamed as a slick finger pushed into his body. Sean laughed at his tears,
and Draco's captor did nothing to stop it from hurting. In fact, the man told
Draco that his friend was being very careful. “Feel that, baby?” the man
soothed, stroking Draco’s hair off his sweaty face. “He’s using a lot of lube.
He’ll stretch you nice and wide. I promise it’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”
“God, he’s tight. Never had such a tight ass,” Sean grunted, voice breathy with
excitement.
“Make sure you don’t hurt him,” his captor warned, holding Draco protectively.
Draco arched with a whine as a second finger slid painfully next to the first.
It felt tight and hot. “Stop!” he screamed, voice high and shrill with fear.
“You’re killing me!”
Sean groaned. “Fuck that’s hot!”
Draco thrashed his head back and forth. He felt full, like he had to poop
really bad.
As time passed and Sean used his fingers, moving them and stretching Draco's
muscles, Draco felt a haze saturated his mind. It felt like he’d always been on
this bed, pinned and hurting and afraid. It was never ending. The constant burn
made him feel sick. Just when he thought he’d survive, another finger was added
and he’d start from the beginning.
Draco gasped as Sean added his white spunk to the lubrication on his butt, the
man's hand pumping and pumping just like his captor always did. His lower half
and his thighs were dripping wet. The sheets under him were slick. He was
spread wide and he hated it. He was crying and whimpering, feverish with
terror. His butt was lifted up further and his eyes bugged as he watched Sean
lined his re-hardened penis at his tortured hole.
“No!” Draco screamed. “Noooo!”
“Go slow,” his captor demanded, holding Draco tighter. “Don’t hurt him too
bad.”
“Oh fuck. Oh god. This is gonna feel so good.” Sean pressed forward slowly,
savoring the moment.
The pressure built and built. It didn’t stop coming. Draco screamed! The pain!
The pain was unbearable; he was being ripped in two!
Draco body went rigid as the terror ignited into a rage. It knocked his breath
right out of him. Made his vision swim red. He’d done everything his captor had
asked. Why wasn’t he stopping this? Draco hated him, hated him, HATED HIM!
Sean pushed in and out, slow shallow thrusts, breaking Draco more each time he
thrust forward, going a little deeper.
His captor’s voice droned on in his ringing ears; Sean’s animalistic grunts and
pants bathed Draco's agony-contorted face.
And Draco kept screaming until he thought he was dying.
Something began to boil inside of him. All the fear, all the betrayal and rage;
it surged up through his stomach and tore through the agony to the source.
Sean’s rocking hips froze. His eyes went wide and suddenly he was frothing at
the mouth. Draco's captor let out a startled yell, his arms releasing Draco as
if burned.
Maddened with pain and fury, Draco kicked his legs, pushing Sean away from him
and out of his body. He yelped as he was left empty and raw. His butt felt like
an open wound, but he couldn’t curl up and cry now. He had to get away! This
was his chance!
Panting through the sickness and pain, the nearly deafening throb of his lower
half, Draco crawled toward the edge of the bed. A trail of blood slithered down
his thighs. Sean was thrashing, choking. His face was swollen and purple,
shiny. Draco dropped to the floor. Gritting his teeth, he pushed to his feet.
His insides burned and his legs collapsed underneath him. Sobbing, Draco
crawled for the door.
“Oh my god! Sean! Shit!”
He forced himself to stand, to open the door. He staggered into the hallway,
limping, nearly dragging his feet. There were stairs. He practically fell down
them. Dazed, in agony, he stared out a window. He could see outside: the city
street, passing cars, freedom! Draco let out a little cry of joy and crawled
forward. He was shaking badly as he dragged himself to his feet, reaching for
the doorknob.
Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and lifted into the air. Sweet, cloying
cloth was pressed into his face, smothering him. He passed out.
xXx
“… one grand, can you believe it?”
Draco woke in so much pain that he could hardly breathe. Dizzy, he squinted
through his tears; an office, a man behind a desk, another sitting in a chair
at the edge of the room.
“He’s used,” the not-desk man said.
“Yes, but he’s pretty enough. We’ll get a few days out of him. He’ll more than
triple our investment,” desk-man replied. Suddenly they were both looking at
Draco, and the smiles on their faces terrified him.
The next few hours were a blur. He was collared and dragged around on a leash.
Draco couldn’t walk. His insides felt bruised and his butt was on fire with
agony. He crawled. The men seemed to like that. They didn’t hurt him for it. He
was taken to a dark, underground room. It was large. Way bigger than any room
at the orphanage, even the dining room. It was dark with throbbing blue and red
lights. Deep music pulsed and jumped, making it hard to hear anything.
Other kids were there. Most all were older than Draco by several years. All of
them were on tables like food laid out at a buffet. Some were crying, some lay
like broken dolls. Men were pushing into the holes between their legs and into
their mouths. Then Draco was lifted onto a table. The leash was tied to a bar
hanging from the ceiling. He didn’t have enough slack to get down.
Men – all ages and sizes – came over to look him over. They touched and petted
his skin, sometimes pinching. Draco begged them to stop at first. He looked for
help in each face, but their eyes were shinning like Sean’s. He stopped
speaking after that. He had no idea how long he was groped when suddenly a hand
cupped the back of Draco's neck, pulling his head down so that it was nearly
level with the table’s edge. The position made the collar cut into his throat
painfully, but the bastard didn’t care.
The man pried Draco's jaws open and pushed his penis inside. Draco screamed,
but that only made the man push forward harder. He gagged and choked. Fingers
touched his raw butt and Draco lost it. The sizzling hate tore through him like
a bonfire and lashed out. The man slid in and out of his mouth a few more times
when suddenly Draco's mouth was clear. He gasped and coughed. Looking up
through his hair, he saw the old man bent over puking his guts out. Similar
sounds came from behind him, and the fingers left.
As Draco watched the man violently heave, he began to smile. No one would touch
him without consequence again.
xXx
Draco hissed in pain. He woke covered in bruises. The ground he lay on was
swaying. It was dark. Squinting he could make out other shapes, could hear the
soft sounds of kids crying. It was very familiar, and for a split second he
thought he was back at the orphanage. Then a door opened above him and spilled
light into the room. The room was large and filled with dozens of dirty kids.
They stared back at him with big, scared eyes.
A man stomped down the wooden stairs and came right up to Draco. Draco screamed
and kicked as he was lifted. His whole body hurt. The man didn’t even flinch.
He simply brought his fist up and bashed it into Draco's skull. Draco went
limp, and the man carried him up the stairs, down a hall, and into a very small
bedroom.
“I’m your master now, boy,” the man growled in Draco's ear. He was holding
Draco close to his chest, his meaty hand squeezing Draco's face painfully hard.
“Bought you off some crazy fool convinced that you were poisonous or something.
Least you were cheap. I’m going to need you to do a job for me. If you can’t do
that, you’ll be worthless.” The man’s face loomed inches from Draco's own. “You
know what happens to useless boys on my boat?”
“Stop!” Draco choked out, terrified, as his legs were prized apart. The man
lifted a baseball bat, pressing the smaller end against Draco’s hole. It felt
way larger than a penis, and so hard and cold. Draco didn’t want anything to
touch him down there ever again. “No! Please! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!”
“Oh, you’ll be good, or I’ll fuck this into you until you die. Now what do you
say to your generous master?”
Draco was nearly hyperventilating. The man was applying more and more pressure
until that huge thing was beginning to stretch him painfully open. “Please!”
“Please what?” the man yelled, slapping him in the face.
“Please, Master!” Draco screamed out just as he began to feel blood trickle
down his leg.
The bat disappeared. The man pulled him up so he was kneeling on the bed and
they were eye to eye. “I’m going to punish you for being so slow to understand.
I don’t need a stupid boy running around. You can take an inch of this bat for
five minutes or you can take a beating for an hour. Which is it, boy?”
Draco sobbed, but he knew his answer. He knew what his answer would always be
if given the choice. “The beating, Master.”
Master grinned at him and smoothed back his hair. “You’re strong, boy. What’s
your name?”
“Draco,” he answered, voice dull and choked with tears.
“Got a fancy name there, little slut,” the man said with a laugh. “Listen to
me, Draco. This can either break you or make you stronger.”
The man moved Draco's body so that he was lying on his belly over his knees.
The boy was naked. His pale white skin was already marked and dirty, but the
man anticipated the heat and furious red color he'd create. The little slut had
his eyes closed and his hands fisted in the man's pants down by his calf. He
smoothed his hand over the soft skin of the boy's back and ass, his heart
already picking up.
“You can take the pain inside. Let it live and breathe, and then it will be
over. Or you can fight it and it will chip away at you until you’re as good as
dead.” The man leaned down so that his mouth was tickling Draco's ear. “How can
you beat me if you’re dead, boy? You’ve got to kill me, don’t you? Like all
those other bastards. Survive, Draco. You survive until you figure out how to
take me straight to Hell with you.”
Draco screamed shamelessly as he was spanked brutally, his tender insides
blazed in agony.
The man brought his hand down again and again. Alternating cheeks and
occationally dipping to the boy's balls and soft thighs. He loved the little
fox-like yips and yelps. The boy's blond hair was plastered to his head with
sweat, his whole body damp with it, soaked in pain.
They were only twenty minutes in and the boy was already limp as a noodle and
sobbing weakly. The skin was red hot. He'd be black and blue when the man was
done. Maybe even unconscious. Grinning, he raked his nails down the boy's back,
drawing blood and fresh screams, just checking to see if the boy was still with
him, then he resumed beating that small little ass. He laughed as the slut
began to wail brokenly, and still his hand continued to slap the boy's ass raw.
As the hour came to an end, the man felt himself get hard. The boy wasn't
unconscious. The child was silent now, breathing deep, barely a hitch to every
inhale. Those luminous large grey eyes were open and staring. The boy had found
his subspace. He pulled the boy up and lay him on the bed, face up. It had to
be agony to the boy's battered backside, but the boy didn't even flinch.
The man opend his pants and pressed his cock between the slender, heated
thighs. He pinned the boy's legs shut with his own knees and thrust into that
channel, his dick sliding under the boy's burning ass every thrust forward and
dragging between the tender skin of the thighs on every pull back. The heat was
almost painful and he groaned lustfully as fucked the boy's warm and pliant
body.
“You're mine now, slut. Mine. I own you.”
 
Chapter End.
 
A/N:I'm not sure how many of you will read this author's note, however, I felt
I must explain something. I received a review from someone very upset by this
story. I was called sick and accused of promoting pedophilia, if I wasn't one
myself. I've received flames in the past, but this one really hurt me.
I in NO WAY endorse or think it okay to hurt a child in any form. I do not
think it sexy or acceptable. That being said, sexually abused children exist in
the world. I personally have experienced that horror. On my journey, I have
studied the psychology of perpetrators and survivors of sexual abuse and sexual
slavery in an attempt to make sense of it all. And this story is my way of
piecing all I've learned together to understand how such darkness can exist.
Because it DEFINITELY is more complicated that a “few people are sick”. There
is a societal system in place that allows child abuse and rape to FLOURISH. It
is not something that happens rarely. A large percent of our populace has
experienced sexual assault and abuse, and human trafficking is PROSPERING
today. I am exploring that through writing in an attempt to understand it.
If it wasn't clear before, what Draco and Harry suffered in this story is
HORRIBLE. One of many aspects that I am pursuing is to contrast the abuse they
suffered at the hands of adults to the consensual love between the boys. To
show how sex can be a beautiful thing in one form and a weapon in another
(which baffles me still today).
The fact that the boys are still children and sexual is also realistic.
Children of sexual abuse and especially sexual slavery have had sex become
normalized. Once the box is opened, it can't be shut. A lot of people think
this is disgusting and that the kid is forever tarnished by it, but through
Draco and Harry I want to test that social convention.
I am not promoting children becoming sexually active. Children should be
children! But I don't want to just write off the kids who had no choice and had
that door open early. I don't want shove them in a dark societal corner. Their
knowledge and sexual experience is socially unacceptable, but that's what is. I
want to explore Draco and Harry coming to terms with society and society coming
to terms with them.
I am deeply concerned if this story is interpreted in any other way.
Thank you for allowing me to explain this. The reviewer who was so disgusted by
me did not leave me a way to answer back, but I had to get this out.
 
 
 
***** November 1985 *****
November, 1985
Booming thunder encompassed the world. It rattled the walls and shook his
bones. Freak darted forward where the door should be. It swung open as his
slight weight pressed against it. Light flooded over him and into his sensitive
eyes. Panting, he huddled in the hallway. A stick thin woman towered over him
with a heavy metal ladle in her hands. She was the cause of the thunder, the
god of his world.
“Get cleaned up, you worthless freak,” she hissed threateningly.
Freak nodded jerkily and scurried as fast as he could to the bathroom. Three
days this time. He knew because he kept count of the meals they had in the
kitchen. He could hear and smell everything from the cupboard. Meal time was
the worst parts of his day… when hunger burned the brightest, the smells from
the kitchen torture…
They had never locked him away for that long without at least opening the door
to throw him bottled water. The boy moaned in agony. His insides were on fire
with need, but his mind was too numb to understand its message. Dots of light
danced in his eyes so he shut them tight. He knew the way without them, anyway.
Good thing because he was jumbled.
Another door banged against a wall as he stumbled through it. A cool tub
pressed suddenly against his shaking hands. He flung himself forward,
frantically searching for the faucet. Liquid bliss spilled over his mouth. His
tongue, so swollen and dry, almost stopped it from passing into his throat.
Whimpering fills his ears. He imaged he’d turned into a puppy. What fun it’d be
to have a tail! To be so small that he could hide safely away when his family
was mad! But he deserved it. Didn’t he?
He shook his head and went back to daydreaming.
Maybe they’d love him if he were a puppy. Puppies were so cute and lovable,
after all. They’d hold him, and feed him, and take him for walks. He could
sleep curled up warm at the end of the bed. Or maybe they’d let him sleep
outside with the wide open yard and a sky full of stars over him.
But it wouldn’t happen. Freak was a boy; a very bad, ungrateful boy. No one
would ever love him.
Freak didn’t realize he was crying until the heavy hand hit him hard on the
back of his head. He looked up through blurry eyes to see his aunt. She was
screaming at him, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. It didn’t matter.
He knew what she was saying. She only ever hit him with her hand if he was
crying. Usually, she used a ladle, a pan, anything she could grasp to hit him
with.
Guilt burned him like acid. He almost threw up the water he’d drunk. He’d made
her touch him. Now she’d scrub her hands red to get his filth off her. He was
so bad, so filthy.
Exhaustion wrapped around him. For the first time, he wanted to sleep and never
wake up. He wanted to stop moving, stop breathing, stop hurting. . . Just.
Stop.
As if guessing he couldn’t hear her over the pounding in his ears, Aunt grabbed
him by the arm and dragged him over to his cupboard. She reached in and took
out the best of his secondhand clothes. Freak went to reach for them, but she
yanked them away so she could throw them hard in his face.
He picked them up and shakily began putting them on. He pressed himself firmly
against the stairs for protection.
Vernon came down and they all moved into the kitchen. The huge man kissed his
wife good morning and patted his son proudly on the shoulder as he took the
seat next to him. Petunia smiled and placed big plates of food in front of them
both. Freak didn’t even look up. He knew he didn’t deserve food. Instead, he
curled up and tried not to listen to the happy chatter going on at the table.
Aunt Petunia scrapped what was left on their plates, which wasn’t much, on the
floor in front of him. “Eat quickly. And don’t leave a speck on my floor!”
Shocked and happy, Freak fell on the food and ate it straight off the floor,
licking it up. A puppy, he was a puppy!
“Disgusting freak,” Vernon growled and stepped on his fingers.
Freak whimpered but didn’t stop eating. Dudley laughed and made barking sounds.
Freak pretended that Dudley was playing a game with him because they were
friends. Boys were always friends with their puppies.
“Go get your bag for school, Duddykins, and wash your face, love.”
Freak looked up to see her lovingly smooth Dudley’s blond hair and kiss his
forehead. Dudley beamed at his mother before running out of the room. He
wondered what this place called school was like. Aunt said he couldn’t go
because everyone would see instantly what a freak he was. It sounded like a
nice place, though; a place where you colored and played games outside and
counted a lot. He loved to count. Sometimes he'd count for days. Sometimes when
he counted, everything was quiet in his head, nothing hurt, he wasn't even
hungry.
“Wash the floor, freak,” Aunt growled, pulling him from his thoughts. “Your
germs are all over it.”
Freak scrambled over to the sink and reached underneath for the cleaning
supplies. He quickly cleaned the spot where he had licked the floor. Dudley had
returned by the time he was done, and he scrambled back to his cupboard only to
be drawn-up short by a meaty fist.
“Not today, boy. You’re coming with me.” Uncle lifted him to his feet and
pulled him to the front door by his arm.
Freak was excited. He’d never been allowed outside before! That changed when he
was taken to the back end of the car. The trunk lid was lifted and he stared in
terror at the small hole. Uncle grabbed him by the neck of his shirt when he
whined and tried to pull away. He lifted Freak completely off the ground,
choking him.
“Keep your mouth shut, boy. You’re a worthless piece of shit, you filthy freak.
No one wants to hear from you.”
Freak locked his jaw, keeping his cries silent as he was flung down into the
trunk and the lid was closed. It seemed to go on for hours. The car was getting
hot and the air tasted funny. Freak curled in a ball, crying silently. After a
long time, he realized that he had to pee and he bit his lip. He knew if he
peed himself in the car he’d get a beating for certain.
Finally, the car pulled to a stop. His uncle came around and opened the lid.
Freak was dragged out by his arm. It hurt, but he was just so glad to be free.
Freak looked around for a bathroom, but they were in a big parking lot.
“You’d better be good, freak, or you’ll regret it.”
Freak nodded vigorously and followed his uncle toward another car. Men climbed
out when Uncle approached. They talked. Something about no one knowing about
Freak. Uncle got a big, thick wallet and quickly turned back to his car. Freak
tried to follow, but a strong arm wrapped around his middle and lifted him up.
He grabbed onto the man so he wouldn’t fall.
“You’re coming with us, kid,” the man said gruffly.
“S-sir…” he stuttered as that arm pressed on his bladder. He was ignored and
warm tears spilled down his cheek as he peed himself.
“What the fuck!” The man dropped him, face red with rage.
Freak’s whole body was jarred as he hit the hard concrete. A kick slammed into
his chest. Pain exploded as all the air was knocked out of his lungs, his body
flying several feet. The shame and self-disgust that burned his insides hurt
almost as much as the kick. As he lay, unable to breathe, he realized his uncle
had finally gotten rid of him.
His last thought was that he deserved it.
Blackness pulled him under.
xXx
Thirty hours later
Cold November air seeped through the small holes on the top of his crate as
Freak pressed himself against them. He’d woken up hours ago. Two hellish hours
he’d huddled in the crate, knowing he couldn’t hope for better. Not even his
family wanted him. Just thinking of them made him sick and afraid. Bruises
bloomed on his shoulders and back from the jostling he had received during the
flight. It had been so terrifying - the noise, the pressure - that he’d vomited
bile. The smell clung to him and made his eyes sting. His legs burned from
where he peed himself, a rash forming.
Just when he thought for sure he’d break and begin to cry, noises sounded
throughout the large, cold place. Light broke the heavy darkness and he curled
tighter to wait. Eventually people came and grabbed his crate. It tipped and
slammed forward as he was dropped. Unprepared, his head cracked against the
side of the kennel.
“Fuck!”
“Dog must've gotten sick.”
“I don’t know why these rich bastards have to tote their animals with them
wherever they go.”
“Think of the animal. Poor things.”
“Poor things, my ass. They’re probably eating caviar off their master’s plates
at night.”
They laughed.
Freak wasn’t tempted to cry out. He knew better. No one wanted to hear from
freaks. Even if they saw him, they wouldn’t help. Bad boys deserved punishment.
Head spinning, sick and exhausted from fear, he tumbled into darkness.
xXx
the Hold
Locked in the empty bottom of a boat, damp wood creaked and swayed encircling
the kids trapped inside. The only source of light came from four dim electric
lamps. The only noise was the sound of the choppy waves surrounding them and
the bleak sobs of children. They were in the Hold, or as Draco liked to call
it, Hell. Nearly a dozen naked children huddled under blankets. Some were
crying; others stared despondently. Soon they’d be sold on the black-market to
clubs and rich men, to seedy doctors for their organs and blood. The lucky ones
would be illegally adopted.
Draco shifted uncomfortably. His back ached horribly with even the slightest
movement, but he’d have to get up soon. It was almost feeding time and it was
his job to tend to the goods.
He was used to children coming and going. None stayed long. This was just a
holding place before the goods were sent elsewhere. He had enough going on just
trying to keep himself out from under the Master’s sadistic punishments, so it
sucked that he had to share his corner with the new brat. Especially since the
kid was so young; the young ones like this were so whiny!
Fortunately, he only rarely had to deal with very little kids. Too young and
they were only good for one or two weeks, the abuse eventually killing them.
Draco had been taken when he was as little as this boy, but his secret power
had kept him alive. The top of the boy's head would probably only come up to
Draco's chin. In fact, they were the two smallest in the Hold. Most of the
others down here were a year or two older that Draco.
The little boy at his side stirred. The messy head of dark hair lifted,
revealing a gaunt, frightened face. Draco saw that expression every day, and he
scowled in annoyance that he’d have to deal with a weepy kid when all he wanted
was some time to rest.
“Bout time ya got up.”
The boy blinked large eyes, obviously not tracking things well.
Draco eyed the skeletal chest littered in old and new bruises. Unknowingly, his
face softened. “I’m Draco. I saved you food.” He freed his arms from under his
thin blanket and handed over a bit of bread and cheese.
Two huge eyes stared up at him in shocked wonder, as if Draco were the most
amazing person in the world. Surprised at the unusual reaction, Draco shifted
uncomfortably and shoved the food closer. The boy reached for it and froze as
he caught sight of the thin red welts and cuts striping Draco’s arm like a
candy cane from wrist to shoulder.
“You’re hurt,” the boy rasped.
Draco gave the boy his most disgusted sneer. “Shit, you think? Jus’ eat.”
The boy ducked his head, distressed, but he said no more and obediently picked
up the food. However, the deep dark eyes never left the injured arm.
Draco watched as the boy chewed slowly. The kid was crying, his tears wetting
the hard bread. Feeling a pang of pity for the obvious pain caused by the
simple act of eating, Draco figured maybe he could talk to the brat some, keep
him distracted and quiet.
“People wanna adopt kids, you know? But gettin kids is hard. Takes lots of time
and money, so they pay for kids from the black-market. It’s like a secret
store. You're here ‘cause someone wan’ed a kid like you, probably it was the
green eyes, and the sellers found you. This is the place the kids who’re for
sale are held, but you won’t be ‘ere long. Your new mom and dad will pick you
up soon.”
“I never had a mummy and daddy ‘afore,” the boy mumbled, still nibbling at the
bread. “Are you going to be ‘dopted, too?”
Draco lifted an eyebrow at the kids weird accent. “Nah,” he answered, voice
brittle as he considered his own situation. “Most here don’ go to adoption.
People need toys ta play with. I was a toy but no good at it. Woulda killed me
‘sept the Master thought I could be useful. Most of these others will be toys,
too.”
“How can you be a toy?” the boy whispered, hunching away as if afraid to be
struck for the question.
Draco shrugged, tense. “It ain’t a good thing, so be glad you’re goin’ to a
mommy.” He felt a flare of jealousy at that reminder and glared hotly.
The boy whimpered, flinching.
Draco nodded, satisfied that his feelings were understood, and turned his back.
He was done talking to the kid. He closed his eyes, cheek against his knees,
trying to rest. His greasy, shoulder-length hair fell into his face, further
shielding him. However, before he got too far into his quiet place, the Hold
door banged open. The children jumped. Some began crying loudly in fear. Draco
tensed. Whenever he had to bring up kids to show for a potential buyer or for
photos, the Master liked to play with him a bit and he’d hardly recovered from
the last games. Stupid kid bothering him and taking up all his rest time.
“Draco! Bring up the Angels.”
He obediently stood and stepped forward, the blanket falling away from his
naked, scarred body. He gestured to the group of blonde kids. Most stood
obediently, too scared to do anything else. The two that refused to move, he
took by the hand. The rest followed him like ducklings as he led them over to
the stairs. They began the long climb toward the massive body blocking the
bright light from the other side.
This doesn’t matter. I can’t change anything. I just have to survive, he told
himself sharply. I have to survive so I can kill the bastard and escape.
By the time he reached the top and stepped within reach of his Master, the fear
and anger slowly disappeared. So did everything else. He was empty. Nothing
could hurt him anymore.
A large hand, almost as big as his head, reached for him. The thick fingers
wrapped around his neck and squeezed cruelly. Blood and oxygen were immediately
denied him, and Draco swayed, knowing he’d black out in seconds if he wasn’t
released. He prayed that Master would hold on. He didn’t want to be awake for
this.
xXx
Three hours later Draco led the children back down into the dark, damp of the
Hold. He stood stiffly, holding his body rigid in the hopes that if he didn’t
move the pain would lessen. The children were crying softly, clinging to each
other. Two were missing. Draco put them back in their corner and whispered that
they needed to be quiet. Task done, Draco returned to his corner. He hesitated
when he saw the small body curled up there. He’d forgotten about the boy.
His best bet would be to ignore the pest. Draco slowly crouched and dropped
carefully into a sitting position. His breath hissed out as dots danced before
his eyes. Thin strips of skin an inch wide were peeled from his chest, leaving
bare, oozing muscle. His throat burned from all the screams his Master had torn
from him. He'd been pissed about something that was for sure.
As soon as the boy saw the wounds, his little face twisted with horror. Draco
would have snapped at him, but he was ignoring the kid. Instead, he closed his
eyes and began to mentally map out the groups of kids he was supposed to take
care of. He often did this just to get away from the pain for a while and to be
sure he didn’t forget anything. He didn’t want to give his Master any more
excuses to hurt him.
The first group was called the Angels – unused, blond children. The second
group was called Brats. These were the unused dark-haired children. The Darks
were the third group. They were the unused children who weren’t white. Newbie’s
were any kids, no matter their coloring, who were older than ten and had no
experience. The last and smallest group was called Pets. They were the children
with experience as toys or slaves. Pets were always least in demand. Draco was
technically a Pet, and he was the youngest of that group. There was another
group, but Draco rarely saw a kid from there. Subs, the master called them.
They were used, but very well trained. Draco had met two in the Hold and they
had been at least twelve or thirteen. It took years to become a good sub; years
most kids couldn't survive. They were the most expensive kind of kid.
And it was Draco's job to keep all these kids in line down in the Hold. There
was never more than thirty and never fewer than ten. Being the smallest and
youngest – well, before this new kid anyway – Draco had to get creative. A
single tray of food was delivered twice a day; one at dawn, the second at dusk.
It always had a good amount on it, and Draco rotated who got that tray.
Sometimes if a child was being especially difficult, he’d withhold food from
the whole group. The rest of the hungry children would then gang up on the
trouble maker and Draco’s problem would be solved.
Draco may be small, but he was mean. He knew a lot about pain from the master.
In fact, he was probably an expert. And he didn't care one bit about these
stupid kids. He had no problem finally getting to dish it out instead of taking
it. Using the food as leverage was one of his better ideas. Ever since he
hardly ever had to resort to violence.
He still remembered what he’d been willing to do for food when he’d first been
taken hungry. And he didn’t want to have to fight with the bigger, older kids,
especially since he was hurt all the time, but he would if he had to.
Thankfully, most of the new kids were scared and weren’t up to challenging him.
They’d be gone soon anyway.
His thoughts were broken when he felt something damp touch one of the cuts on
his stomach. He flinched, his eyes flying open as terror sent his heart
rocketing. Sweat rolled down his face and chest. The salt stung, adding to his
misery. Draco quickly registered what had touched him. It wasn’t his Master. It
was that annoying little boy again. He was kneeling in front of Draco, a dirty
blanket in his hand.
Draco hissed and shoved him hard. He’d learned that it was better to let his
wounds heal without aid than to clean them up with anything down here. His last
bout with fever had been a nightmare that he never wanted to experience again.
“Sorry. Just wan’ed to help.” The boy ducked his head. Dark messy hair spilled
forward and hid his vulnerable expression. “Didn’t it feel better?”
Draco was about to snap that of course it hadn’t when he paused. Now that he
was thinking about it, his stomach did hurt less. He looked down and his eyes
widened. The oozing muscle the boy had been tending had stopped bleeding and
had scabbed over. Even better, it was now pleasantly numb.
“It does,” he whispered, awed.
“I can do the rest. Please?”
Draco was too shocked to say anything.
The boy took that as permission. He grabbed the blanket and dipped it in his
cup of water again. Delicately, with all the care in the world, the boy began
to wipe at the injuries once more. Draco sat still under the gentle touch. He
felt tears burn his eyes as the constant pain he lived with began to diminish.
The cooling sensation spread. It felt like heaven.
The boy stopped, misunderstanding his tears. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt
you.”
“No.” Draco quickly brushed away his tears. “It jus’ don’t hurt no more.”
The little boy smiled a blindingly bright smile; one so pure that Draco felt it
on his skin, like how he remembered warm sunlight. He let the kid continue to
heal his many wounds, just soaking in the sensation of being cared for. He
stared down at the boy’s head and felt a strange tight sensation in his chest.
This boy. . . this boy was special.
He noticed instantly when the hand granting him such rare relief wavered. The
kid was paler than ever before. His eyes were half closed with exhaustion and
his whole body shook slightly. The blanket fell from the trembling hand, and
the boy was about to topple over when Draco grabbed him.
“Sorry,” the child whispered. “Wan’ed to finish.”
“You did,” Draco lied easily, shocked a second time when he realized the boy
had hurt himself. For Draco. Even though Draco had been mean to him. “I feel
all better now.”
“Tired,” the kid confessed.
Draco did something he had never done before. He pulled the boy close, up
against his battered body, and held him. The boy gasped, as if surprised.
Barely conscious, he stared at Draco like Draco were the miracle. It was as if
the boy had never been held before. Something almost like steel snapped closed
around Draco's heart at the thought.
“Sleep,” he whispered softly, stroking the wild dark hair ever so softly. “I’ll
take care of you.”
The boy gasped, little hands clutching at Draco desperately. Soft sobs shook
through the tiny shoulders for several minutes before the kid finally succumbed
to sleep.
Draco lay on his healed side, staring at the sleeping boy wrapped in his arms.
The boy was magic. He was a light in the dark, and Draco wasn't going to let
him go. “I’ll take care of you,” he repeated.
Chapter End.
I'd really love a Comment. :)
***** The Hold *****
A/N: I had a few questions about Draco's magic:
Draco knows he has a "power". He thinks he knows what that power does: Poison
anything that penetrates him or that he penetrates. Therefore, he contains his
own magic unknowingly setting rules upon it. 
 
Thank you so much for the comments and questions! Keep them coming!
 
The Hold
Freak woke up feeling warm. He opened his eyes to see the blond boy from the
day before sitting next to him, wrapped in a tattered brown blanket. The Hold
was dark like before. Just four hanging lights that weren't very bright. There
were lots of shadows. The kids on the other side of the room were quiet now.
Most were curled up and sleeping. 
He turned his attention back to the hurt boy. The boy was sitting right next to
him. He had a blanket wrapped around him so only his head could be seen. His
stringy, blond hair was tucked behind his ears and just brushed his shoulders.
He was staring at the curved wall, his grey eyes not blinking or moving. It was
as if the other boy was turned off. He'd done it the day before, too, and Freak
had tried to clean the nasty cuts while the boy wasn't paying attention. 
Freak felt his face grow hot. He had no idea where the courage had come from,
to pick up that blanket and touch the other boy. He had just wanted to help so
badly! The boy had looked him in the eye and talked to him. He'd even given
Freak food! And then. . . then the boy had held him. He'd stroked Freak's
hair! 
Freak began to tremble just remembering it. The motion must have caught the
boy's attention, for he turned to look at Freak, eyes now bright and alert. The
boy smiled at him. Smiled! And he reached out to push some food closer to
Freak. 
“I saved this for ya.”
Freak shook his head wildly. “I'm okay! Y-you should eat it.”
Those grey eyes became sharp and hard. “Eat.”
Freak scrambled to obey, and in only a few minutes, the bread, apple, and jerky
were gone and he was finishing off a bottle of water. He looked up uncertainly
at the other boy, but the boy's eyes were normal again. He wasn't angry. The
boy had tucked himself back up in his blanket and sat watching him. 
“My name's Draco. What's yours anyway?” 
At the question, Freak broke out into a cold sweat of terror. His pulled his
stick-thin legs and arms close to his body and stared with wide eyes. What if
Draco got mad when he found out Freak was a freak? What if Draco hurt him for
not telling him sooner? Freak hadn't known what being held felt like. Now he
wanted more, but if he told then that would go away. But if he didn't, then
Draco would be mad that he was keeping secrets. He was a horrible, disgusting
freak for even thinking about keeping it secret!
Heart pounding, scared and hating himself, Freak ducked his head and played
with the frayed hem of the blanket pooled in his lap. He bit his lip until he
could feel the blood roll down his chin. A pale hand reached out and touched
his face. Freak gasped and snapped his eyes up, shocked to see his own blood on
Draco's skin.
“Oh!” he cried and dove for the water. He desperately spilled some on the
blanket and scrambled forward to wipe Draco's fingertips clean. “I'm sorry,” he
whispered. Fat tears spilled down his face. “I'm sorry.”
Draco's other hand reached out and touched Freak's face again. Freak could only
stare in horrified awe as Draco put the blood-smeared fingers in his mouth. In
his mouth! Those grey eyes stared at him. “You shouldn't be sorry. I'll let ya
know when you should be sorry, okay?”
Freak nodded dumbly. He had no idea what to think. Draco was so strange!
“What's your name?” Draco asked again. He held Freak's eyes, refusing to allow
Freak to look away. 
“I'm . . .” He was crying now, but he was helpless to disobey. “Freak . . . I'm
Freak.”
He could hardly hear over his banging heart. He was ready for Draco to narrow
his eyes, to hate him. He was ready for the slap or to be banished to one of
the other groups of children away from Draco. He waited for what felt like
eternity, but Draco only looked back at him. The other boy sat so still, and
then the black in Draco's eyes, already big in the low light, grew until there
was only a small line of silver left. Freak felt like he was falling into them
as Draco stared and stared.
“Not Freak. . .” Draco said slowly in a lower voice. “Harry. . . You're Harry.
. . born as the seventh month dies. . .”
Freak whimpered. “Draco?”
The other boy blinked and his eyes went back to normal. He shook his head, his
stringy blond hair falling around his face. “Look.” He pulled Freak up against
his body again. “Just. . . Don't call yourself Freak, kay? That's not your
name. It's Harry.”
He stared up at Draco. He had no idea what to think. So much was happening. He
couldn't understand. All he knew was that Draco was looking at him. Draco was
petting his hair again and holding him. He would do anything for Draco.
Softly, almost as if Draco were whispering, he said, “Kay? Can ya be Harry for
me?”
Freak – Harry – nodded his head even though he had no idea how to be what Draco
wanted.
Draco smiled and it made Harry feel warm. No one ever smiled at him before.
“Good. Sleep, Harry. I've got ya.”
Harry closed his eyes and obeyed.
xXx
Draco held the boy as he slept. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the kid.
This kid. . . This kid had been so hungry it had hurt to eat. He'd acted like
he'd never been touched without being hurt when Draco had held him. He'd
thought his name was Freak! Draco lived in Hell, but at least he had a name. He
had plans to escape; he had plans for Revenge. And he had these because he'd
had the orphanage before he was kidnapped.
Draco didn't let himself remember often, but he did remember. The nice ladies.
The games and playing outside. The warm food and baths. He remembered laughing
and running. He remembered songs and sweets. Holidays. Wishes and presents.
Draco didn't think this boy ever had any of that. 
Rage stirred hot in his stomach and he held the boy tighter. He'd seen. . .
something dark. Something evil. He had stared into the boy's green eyes, the
boy's blood on his tongue warm and tingling, and knew that something was
hunting this poor kid. Something would come for him, something unspeakable, and
the boy wouldn't survive it. It would destroy him. Draco had also seen the
boy's name. He had no idea how it was possible, but the name had been written
across Draco's mind in golden letters: Harry Potter. It had been amazing and
terrifying all at once. 
Draco shook himself. Whatever had happened when he'd swallowed the boy's blood,
he knew it had happened because Harry was special. The wrong kind of special.
The special that drew monsters, that made you a target. He stared down at the
kid's sleeping face, turning the problem over and over, round and round. He
must have sat like that for hours because suddenly the Hold door slammed open.
The kids nearest the rickety wooden stairs jumped and gave startled screams.
Draco was already on his feet, hands fisted at his thighs. Harry was awake,
huddled on the floor behind Draco like a helpless puppy. The lackey standing in
the doorway laughed at them from the top of the stairs. He had the food tray in
his arms.
“Grub's on!” the bastard called down.
Draco silently climbed the stairs, automatically compensating for the sway of
the boat. He ignored the way the man's eyes roved over his naked body. He knew
no one would touch him. He was for the Master's use only. Without a word, he
took the tray and turned away, carrying his prize down to the kids. 
He took it to his corner first, just as he always did. He put two bottles of
water, two apples, two rolls, and two bags of jerky down before taking the tray
to the Brats. It was their turn. The kids all watched him with hungry,
frightened eyes. They didn't say anything as Draco put the tray in front of the
dark-haired kids, but the Brats scrambled forward around the tray as soon as he
put it down. It had been four trays, which meant two days, since they had
eaten. Draco gave them a sneer and went back to his place with Harry.
The boy hadn't moved. He just watched Draco with those green eyes of his. Draco
snorted and sat down. He gave the boy one of everything and took the other
half. He bit into the apple and raised an eyebrow. The kid still hadn't made a
move to eat the food. 
“Eat,” Draco ordered after swallowing.
Harry looked so lost and confused it was almost painful, but he picked up the
bread and began to eat. 
“Ya know Cinderella?” Draco asked. Just as he suspected the boy shook his head.
Of course he hadn't. “Well, there was this girl an' she. . .”
Draco told the tale of Cinderella. It took hours, but it was worth it. Harry
stared at him as if Draco was the most wonderful thing in the world. It made
Draco's chest swell with air that almost tickled. For the first time in
forever, Draco was happy. But he wasn't used to talking so much. Screaming,
yes. Talking, no. 
“Your turn,” he demanded and waved at Harry to tell a story.
The boy instantly looked frightened. “I don't know any stories,” he whispered
miserably, as if confessing some great sin.
Draco shrugged. He turned the boy so Harry was sitting in his lap, back to his
chest. He wrapped the blanket around them both and leaned against the damp
wooden wall of the boat. “Just make somethin' up til we fall asleep.”
For a long minute, Harry sat silently in his arms, but then he began to talk.
“There was a boy. He was a Prince. He, um, he had snow white hair and grey
eyes.”
Draco smirked and held the boy tighter. “I like this story.”
Harry tilted his head back to smile up at him before snuggling back down into
Draco's body. “The Prince. He was in a big castle. He lived there. It was so
big and white. There were big rooms that had gold floors and gold ceilings. And
there were tables and tables of food. Big roasts and potatoes and everything.
There were even pies and cakes! Chocolate and lemon. And he would go outside
and ride horses. They were white like his hair. They would run and run. The
wind would blow in his face. It was like he was flying. . .”
Draco held the boy tight and let himself fall away into the painfully beautiful
story where Draco was a prince.
xXx
The door to the Hold opened and Draco tensed in wretched anticipation. It had
been a few days since the Master had made him bring kids up. He knew it would
happen soon. The food tray was placed on the top step and the door shut again.
Draco relaxed and looked over at Harry with a smile.
“Wanna help?”
The boy flashed a wide smile. “Can I really?” he asked. He was always so eager
to be helpful.
“Don’t talk to them. Jus’ follow me.”
“Yes, Draco.”
Satisfied, feeling strong and invincible under the little boy’s trusting gaze,
he stood, naked and dirty, and made his way up the stairs for the tray at the
top. He brought it down and put it in Harry's arms. The little boy was stick-
thin, and he almost couldn’t manage the wide tray, but the kid was stubborn. He
had Harry put their portion over in their corner and bring it back. It was the
Angel's turn for the tray. 
“I want my mommy,” a girl sobbed weakly. She’d been brought in the same day as
Harry and was still weepy over her capture. She was a year or two older than
Draco, maybe seven. 
Draco gestured for his charge to put the tray down on the floor before the
small group of kids. “Eat quick,” he ordered them, unmoved by the emotional
plea.
The blondes scrambled for the bottles of water, bread, cheese, beef jerky, and
apples. The newest girl didn’t move. She just sat there and continued to cry.
“Don’t cry,” he snapped harshly. “No one’s gonna help you here. Eat. You won’t
get more for a long time.”
Harry smiled at the girl and picked up a piece of bread. Draco knew this would
end badly, but he let the kid continue so that Draco could prove a point.
Seeing that she was getting attention, her cries grew louder. She made no move
to take the offering. His charge tried again. Again, she began to cry louder,
and now other kids from the other groups were crying, too. The sound began to
rise and Draco quickly intervened.
He slapped Harry’s hand with a glare, making him drop the bread. “Leave her
alone. If she wants to eat, she’ll get it herself!” He said this last with a
fierce look at the girl who had started it all before looking back at Harry.
The boy looked devastated. “Sorry,” Harry whispered and backed away until he
was practically behind Draco.
The other children, those who’d been there longer, eyed the food. When the
crying girl made no move to grab her share, little hands snaked out and stole
it from her. Draco let them. He picked up the empty tray and carried it to the
top of the stairs before coming back down.
He glared at any of the crying children and made sure none of them were outside
the designated areas he’d created before making his way to his private corner.
His charge sat with his knees pulled to his chest. His eyes were wet as he
stared up at him. Draco sighed and settled next to him, pulling both their
blankets around their shoulders to keep out the damp cold.
“You don’t help ‘em by being nice,” he explained softly.
“I’m sorry,” the boy answered miserably. “Don’t be mad at me.”
He reached over and grabbed the little boy’s jaw with firm fingers, forcing the
green eyes to meet his own. “Did I say I was mad?”
“No,” the boy said softly, eyes bright with the hope of forgiveness.
Draco nodded and let him go. “Look, the people here aren’t gonna be nice to
‘em. They need to understand that quick. Get it?”
Harry stared at him as if he had all the answers. It made Draco feel good. “I
won’t do it again.”
Draco shrugged. “You don’t have to be mean like me. It’s not your job to take
care of ‘em. It’s mine. Jus’ ignore them.”
“Okay,” the boy whispered even softer.
Draco gently wrapped his arms around the little boy. “Don't worry. I'll take
care of ya.”
The boy tilted his head back to look up at Draco and his eyes shimmered with
something that made Draco hold his breath. “Love you, Draco,” the boy whispered
softly.
Draco looked away, holding to Harry tightly. Tears burned his eyes. No one had
loved him in a very long time. Draco almost didn’t remember what it felt like.
It burned his chest and made his skin tingle. They sat quietly together as
Draco stroked his charge’s soft hair, absorbing the boy’s unconditional warmth
and trust. It was the most wonderful thing he’d ever experienced in his hard
life.
The Hold door opened and the Master stood framed, his long shadow falling on
the frightened children. “Draco, bring the boy.”
Draco felt his stomach drop. Harry's adoptive parents were ready and he still
didn't have a plan. He didn't really want to keep Harry in the Hold, but who
was going to look out for the kid? Harry stood out in the darkness. Monsters
would always target him. And what about what Draco had seen? Something bad was
waiting for Harry. Who would protect Harry from that? Draco felt sick, but he
knew better than to let any of it show. He'd long ago learned to mask what he
felt. So with only a slight tremble in his hands, he grabbed Harry and towed
him toward the stairs.
Both naked, they climbed the stairs and walked behind the Master down a narrow
hallway. The ship swayed underneath their feet. The Master opened the last door
by another set of stairs. The room was brightly lit with a huge window open to
allow light and air in. A man and a woman were waiting there, and one gestured
Harry further into the room. However, they weren't adoptive parents. Draco knew
them very well. They helped the Master with cataloguing.
Numbly, Draco towed the boy over to the bucket. If those two were here, then
something had gone very, very wrong. Draco desperately avoided making eye
contact with his charge as he carefully washed all the dirt and grime from the
soft skin. When that was done, he backed away. His charge was taken out of
reach and told to stand on the table.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing…” the man remarked absently as he worked his camera,
taking pictures of the naked boy.
Harry was pretty, Draco supposed. He had thick dark hair that stuck up messily.
Dark eyebrows and equally dark lashes that framed large, crystal green eyes. He
had light skin a few shades darker than Draco's white, and he had no freckles.
Harry blushed easily, as he was doing now. His mouth was small, but he had full
lips. The only thing wrong with the kid was the way his bones stood out. Harry
was like those running dogs, all knees, ribs, and elbows, and some sickos liked
that starved look. 
A knot of pure dread sharply twisted Draco’s insides.
“You’re a cutie,” the woman cooed. Her hand slapped the little boy hard on the
butt twice, making him whimper and look to Draco for reassurance. “There. Put
more color on you.”
Draco had none to give. He wanted so badly to cover the boy, keep him safe, but
he was too scared to move. The Master was right behind him, making suggestions
so they could get a good picture for the catalogue. What had happened? Harry
was meant to be adopted. Why was he going into the catalogues for people who
were looking to buy toys? 
I haveta be strong, he mentally chanted his mantra, his whole body trembling
with the repressed urge to rescue his boy. This was the kid who’d taken away
his pain, the only one to ever love him. He belonged to Draco now.
“Smile, kid.”
The green-eyed boy looked carefully into the round glass end and smiled his
biggest smile.
Draco felt gutted. He'd never seen such a beautiful smile and it would be
smashed by these bastards.
“Draco.” The Master placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Come with me.”
Draco quickly masked his expression. The Master couldn’t become suspicious. It
would be the worst thing that could happen. So he bowed his head and nodded. 
“Draco?” Harry cried out fearfully. 
It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do – and he’d had to do some veryhard
things – but Draco left without looking back. He felt numb, his mind retreating
as he was led to his Master’s bedroom. The door shut behind him. The bed loomed
before him.
“Go stand in the corner. Bend over and touch your toes.”
Draco moved forward like a robot, like he was walking through fog. He faced the
wall and bent over, his mouth and chin touching his knees; Master had made sure
he was flexible. The man came up behind him and pressed him forward until he
was on his toes, his back leaning against the wall, his head hanging upside
down an inch off the ground. His feet were pressed outward.
Draco was hyperventilating now. He hated these fucking games. It wasn’t enough
that the bastard beat and tortured him for his own sick pleasure; he was going
to rape him now. And the fucker was smart. He’d learned that if he penetrated
Draco in any way with any part of his body, it would make him sick, so the
bastard used objects to do it for him or just rutted against his skin.
Raymond grinned down at the little boy. He'd been in this business for almost
thirty years, and Draco was the first kid to last a year. And miracle of
miracles, the kid wasn't broken yet. No matter how much he was beaten, fucked
with toys, degraded, or denied medical care, Draco was not broken. They could
actually manage a cargo of thirty with Draco onboard to keep things running
smoothly. The child was a gift. He smiled evilly. A gift in more ways than one.
Draco was a gorgeous kid. All lean hard lines. White blond hair that shone in
the low lighting. Pale skin gorgeously decorated with scars, bruises, and
welts. He was especially gorgeous now. His little legs spread as he leaned
forward against the wall, bent in half. They boy's heels were off the ground as
he rested on his toes slightly. The arch in his small pale feet was so
perfectly delicate. Those slender arms wrapped around those legs and hooked
around the boy's calves to hold himself in position. 
Raymond had the perfect view of Draco's face, upside down, the eyes dead as
Draco sank into subspace. He was so well trained, his Draco. Grinning with
pleasure, Raymond picked up a candle he had specially designed for this moment.
It was a deep red. The color he loved to paint on the boy's skin. The bottom of
the candle was about an inch thick and it slowly widened until it was two and a
half inches wide at the top. There was a thick wick sticking out ready to
light. 
“It’s your birthday, Draco. Did you know?” he asked. He was tempted to finger
the boy open, but he knew better. The one time he did that, he'd been sick for
three days, unable to keep anything down. “Been here a year and you haven't
killed me yet. Maybe you secretly love being my slut, is that it?”
He made a short stab downward with the candle. It penetrated Draco shallowly,
spreading the boy's hole. The boy gasped out a sharp, “Fuck!”, and Raymond
laughed. He jiggled the candle. About an inch in and five more to go. He knew
it had to sting. He'd used no lube.
“Next year, how about I use two?” Raymond asked evilly. “Or maybe we can use
two now? One to grow on.”
Pain spasmed through Draco's body at being stretched so wide without lube or
preparation. The thought of two of whatever was in his ass made him sick with
dread. Would Master kill him this time? Cold fear clawed through him even as
Master worked the thing in deeper, fucking him with it. 
“You’re such a pleasure to play with,” Master practically purred. “Bent over
like the slut you are. Your face all flushed, your mouth gaping open, your
little ass being split open by my toys.”
Draco bit his lip and refused to make any more sounds to get the bastard off.
The hard thing pushed in and dragged out slowly. Master was in a good mood
today. He was playing with him, laughing. Each time the thing pressed in, it
went deeper. Soon Draco felt the pressure in his gut. He felt himself start to
bleed. His body rocked against the wall hard now on every inward push.
“Such a pretty slut,” Master praised and slapped him hard on the ass, jolting
whatever was buried deep in Draco's body. 
Raymond admired the boy as Draco's skin flushed a gorgeous pink where he'd hit
him. The skin around Draco's hole went white as it was stretched wider and
wider open, small tears appeared in the rim as it stretched too far, the candle
getting thicker as he pulled it out and pressed it down. Four inches in, two
left sticking out of the boy's hole; the candle stretching the small entrance
two inches wide. 
Blood now. Up and pressing down, turning it. The boy was moaning through the
pain. Draco's arms were shaking as he practically clung to his own legs.
Chuckling, Raymond bent forward and bit the boy viciously on the ass cheek hard
enough to leave bloody teeth marks. Draco barked a scream, but he hadn't moved
an inch.
“Good boy. Ready to make a wish, slave?”
Draco's eyes widened in horror as he heard a match light. Not fire play! It
always hurt so badly and he always got fevers while healing the awful burns.
Helpless to stop it, he began to cry. He almost couldn’t believe it when he
heard a hard puff of air and smelt smoke as the match was blown out. Master
hadn’t burned him!
A large hand soothed down his trembling thigh. “I’ll be back, boy. If I see
you’ve moved an inch, I’ll get out the branding iron.”
Draco shuddered. Nothing was as bad as that, and he resolved to hold still. He
watched as Master’s feet left him. The door opened and closed, and then Draco
was alone. He held his position, his calves burning from having to stay on his
toes. Slowly, he started to sink his heels down, his tendons stretching the
longer he stood folded in half against the wall.
Something hot dripped down his crack. Draco yelped and jerked. He gasped, eyes
wide. The bastard had shoved a candle into his asshole and lit it! The hot wax
was melting onto his skin. Biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed, Draco
closed his eyes in horror. Pain seared his nerves as the burning hot wax
dripped down over sensitive skin and over his genitals. He sobbed and yelped as
the pain slowly grew worse, the soft skin beginning to blister.
“Oh god,” he moaned. His hands slapped down on the floor. His body jerked,
trying to come to a standing position, but he forced himself to hold. The brand
killed some kids. Draco hated every mark on his body. The thought of an ugly,
gruesome brand on his face or chest or anywhere else sickened him. He had to
hold position!
More wax splashed and burned. 
Draco screamed.
An hour later, Raymond slipped into the room and stared hungrily. Draco was
still bent, but he was no longer in half. His back made a flat table. His hands
pressed into the wall and beat at it helplessly as he tried to stay folded. 
“Position!” Raymond barked and laughed as Draco instantly folded in half again.
The boy's legs were spasming from the pain and collapsed under the kid. Raymond
crossed the room and kicked the boy in the ass, shoving the candle deeper and
putting it out.
Draco went to his knees, back arched sharply as he clawed at the wall, mad with
pain and incoherent. Raymond roughly pulled him up to his feet and flung him
toward the bed. The boy hit the side and bounced off, crumpling to the ground.
Raymond grabbed him by the hair and flung him face first onto the mattress.
Viciously he kneed those pale legs open. His big, tanned hands spread the boy's
cheeks to see that the red wax was still soft around the blistered hole.
“That's my, slut,” Raymond groaned and took his cock out. He pressed into the
moist wax and heat between those cheeks, used his hands to close them tight to
make a channel, and started to thrust.
“Nooo,” Draco moaned, clawing desperately at the sheets. His hair was soaked,
his face pale with a feverish flush, his eyes bright with agony. “Please, no
more, please. . .” he sobbed brokenly. 
“That's it. Tell me how much it hurts.” Raymond laughed and fucked between the
boy's cheeks harder, faster. He couldn't take his eyes off his dark purple cock
head rubbing against the boy's lily-white back on every hard snap forward of
his hips. “Oh fuck yeah, boy. Such a good slut.”
Draco was near wailing, his high piping voice filling the room, a song of
agony, as he fucked against him. Raymond stared entranced at he smeared more
and more blood across the boy's ass, thighs and lower back. He came in an
explosion of cum that splashed up the boy's back and hit the back of his head.
Raymond collapsed next to the small boy, panting and grinning. Oh yeah, this
had been a great idea.
After a few minutes, he gathered himself enough to wipe his messy cock down
with the sheets. “I'd stay with you tonight, slut, but I have a major deal
going down. Back to the Hold you go!”
Draco was unconscious. Humming, Raymond took the boy by the upper arm. He
dragged him from the room, down the hall, and literally tossed him down the
stairs. It had been a good day. The adoption deal may have collapsed for the
green-eyed Brat, but he'd get a fortune for the pretty, doe-eyed boy. Better
yet, he'd gotten to paint his slut's skin red and white. Yes, it had been a
very good day.
xXx
Harry sat huddled with his knees to his chest. His eyes were huge as he stared
up at the door. Draco was not there. He'd gone with a big bearded man. He'd
left Harry. Was he coming back? Was he being hurt? Harry rocked back and forth,
terrified of a world without Draco in it. The other kids glared over at him
hatefully and he hunched down further. Suddenly, the door opened. Harry stared
in wide-eyed horror as Draco was flung down the steps. 
The door slammed shut. Harry hurried over to see Draco completely limp. There
was blood and dried white stuff. Worse, there was a weird, hard coating on
Draco, too. Harry tried to drag him to the corner. It was hard. Draco was
heavier than him. He didn't wake up at all during the whole thing. Harry's
heart beat rapidly. Was Draco okay? 
Desperately, Harry got Draco on his stomach on a blanket. He started to scratch
and peel off the hard stuff and clean off the blood. He worked obsessively. He
wanted Draco's skin clean! If Draco was clean, maybe he'd wake up. Finally all
the hard red was gone, and only the blood and the white crusty stuff remained.
“Once the wax is off, you're supposed to lick the rest, might as well learn
now, ” a low voice said.
Harry turned to look at one of the older children. The Pet stared at Harry with
dead brown eyes, and Harry flinched, looking back down at the mess on Draco's
back and butt. He cringed at the idea of putting his mouth on Draco's skin.
What if he made Draco dirtier? But some small part of him really wanted to be
that close to Draco.
“It won't get better if you don't lick it.”
There was something mean in the other kid's voice, but Draco lay completely
limp. He was really hurt! If Harry could fix him, then he had to try.
Slowly, Harry went to his hands and knees over Draco's body. He stared down at
the pale skin and gently bent his arms until he was right above that soft skin.
His lips parted. Just as his tongue was about to touch his friend, Harry's eye
slid shut. The crust and blood on Draco tasted weird, but the soft warmness of
his skin made Harry tingle. His arms shook and his heart punched in his chest
steadily quicker.
He ran his tongue in slow laps from the small of Draco's back up along the
spine. Warm licks across Draco's shoulder blades, up the back of his neck. Inch
by inch, Draco's skin was cleaned, made perfect again. Harry was panting at
this point. Tears dripped slowly down his cheeks to further moisten Draco's
skin.
Draco rode the waves of pain, red and white screaming through his brain. Then
something cool touched him. It stroked over his skin, casting the red and white
away, putting out the fires of agony. Inch by inch, he became aware of relief.
Until he was staring at the wall in the Hold and knew it was his Harry who was
touching him, healing him. He held his breath, desperate for Harry to keep
going. It hurt so much deep inside and on his skin. He just wanted to stop
hurting. Moaning, he felt tears finally spill over until he was crying softly.
Harry echoed Draco's moan. Everything disappeared except for this moment, the
feel of Draco against his tongue, the sharp salty taste of the white, the
almost metal flavor of blood, the Draco-ness of every swipe of clean skin.
Harry's tears spilled faster, filling with love for the boy under him.
“Draco. . . Draco. . .” His boy's high, soft voice whispered against the skin
of Draco's neck, his shoulders. Until the boy was gone from him. Gentle hands
touched his butt and Draco opened his mouth to scream in furious reaction when
that warm healing mouth lapped in fast little strokes over the bleeding bite
mark the Master had left on his butt cheek. The scream became a gasp. 
Draco pressed his forehead into the rough wood of the hold. His hands twisted
the blanket under him. Pleasure like he'd never known rushed through him. It
curled in his gut and shot up his spine into his nipples.
Harry stopped, his breathing rough and uneven, “Draco?”
Before he knew what he was doing, Draco rasped, “Don't stop.”
Horrified over what he'd just asked his boy to do, Draco pushed up onto all
fours to get away, but then Harry's little hands were on his hips and that
mouth was back, erasing the Master's teeth from his skin. Draco arched, his
head thrown back, as he gave a soft cry. Hot tingling heat sizzled through
every nerve and Draco never wanted it to stop.
Harry licked and licked and watched as magic happened. Draco asked him to keep
going! He wasn't mad his mouth was on him. He didn't think Harry was dirty! He
wanted more! Heart singing, amazed as the blood and wounds disappeared under
his tongue, Harry moved to the trail of blood coming from Draco's hole. He
reached forward, sliding his hands along perfect skin, and he spread the
cheeks. There it was. Bleeding a steady trickle. It was red and slightly open,
hurt. Harry pressed forward and licked a long, slow stripe from the blistered
privates to up past the hole. 
Draco collapsed to his forearms, his ass still up and open, and gave a low
ringing cry. He was panting, covered in sweat. Harry's tongue touched
everywhere. It dipped inside him again and again, stroked along the rim in hot
swipes. Draco's thighs trembled as he slid them wider. Harry took the
invitation to press deliciously closer.
Pet watched the two boys. The little blond master was on his knees spread wide,
his chest pressed to the floor, his hands in tight fists slightly over his
head. His usually cold grey eyes were wide and bright, his mouth hanging open.
Red flushed his cheeks as he began to glisten with sweat. His small hips were
rocking back onto the face of the slightly smaller sub boy. The dark haired one
was also on his knees. Naked and sweating, he was bent slightly forward, his
face buried in the little master's ass. His hands visibly trembled where they
clung to the Master's small, boyish hips. 
Neither of them could be older than five, the dark-haired one could be as young
as four, and yet they made even Pet's blood heat with lust. Pet watched with
utter hatred, but he was unable to look away from the sensual sight. He had
wanted revenge. Wanted to see the little master scream at being touched like
that, to see him beat the little boy, but instead they were moaning and making
whimpering cries of pleasure. Pet hated them.
As the blisters disappeared, Harry drank in Draco's cries and gasps, shivered
at every low moan. He focused solely on the little hole. Slithering inside,
Harry's tongue licked and rubbed at every cut. He circled the opening, sucked
gently. He clung to Draco's hips as the hurt boy made a keening sound that went
straight through Harry. He was making Draco feel good! He wished he could go on
forever, but his vision began to darken. Suddenly, he couldn't feel his hands.
Just as Draco gave the loudest cry yet, Harry felt himself go limp, barely
conscious.  
Something powerful washed over Draco, turning his vision black. He lost all
sense of time and self. He existed in a surging pool of pleasure until the
throbbing slowed and he was able to think and breathe again. He was lying on
his side, Harry silent and no longer touching him. 
With a shaking hand, Draco reached between his legs, but he was dry and soft.
Confused, he rolled onto his back and pulled Harry up to him by the hair. The
boy's eyes were blown open, pupils large, but he wasn't tracking. He stared
blindly with a huge smile on his face. He looked pale and thinner, if that was
possible. Draco was speechless, still tingling with aftermath.
“Draco. . . love you. . .” Harry mumbled before going utterly limp,
unconscious.  
Draco stroked the dark hair under his chin, just basking in the feeling of
being warm and safe. He felt perfect except for the uncomfortable pressure
pushing on his insides. Draco held Harry to his chest as he rolled slightly
onto his side. He reached back to his butt and opened himself with his fingers.
It felt fine now. No pain at all. He smiled sleepily.
Slowly pushing as if he had to poop, he stayed nice and relaxed. Soon he felt
the candle head. He pushed one last time, got his nails in the wax and pulled
it from his body. It came out with a squelch. His ass throbbed lightly, and he
threw the disgusting thing into a shadowed corner. Draco had never felt so good
in his life. Grinning, he held the boy close and fell asleep.
Chapter End
Comments keep me writing! (wink)
***** Drawing A Line *****
Drawing A Line
Draco woke in an instant. He immediately checked the other kids. They were
sitting and murmuring together, but they were still in their groupings. None
had crossed the invisible lines Draco had laid for them. Relaxing, he checked
the boy asleep in his arms, half sprawled on his chest. Harry was completely
out. He didn't even twitch as Draco slid out from under him and covered him
with a blanket. 
Loose limbed, Draco stretched up on his toes, hands linked above his head. With
casual grace, he crossed to the cargo. The children had gone silent. He was the
food bringer. He led them upstairs and not all of them returned. He was
Master's pet. They were rightfully terrified. 
Draco ignored all of them except for a dark, long-haired boy. He was ten or so.
Lean with empty, cruel brown eyes. As Draco approached, the boy tried to hide
behind the only other Pet, a red-haired girl about eight. The girl shifted
away, refusing to be in Draco's line of sight. 
“Please. . .” the boy whispered.
Draco smacked the boy hard. The Pet cried out and collapsed at Draco's feet,
groveling. Draco lashed out, kicking the boy away with all the strength of his
bottled rage. The boy hit the wall with a loud thunk and Draco pinned him to
the floor by stepping firmly on his throat. 
Unblinking, he stared hard into the Pet's pain-rattled eyes. “You ever talk ta
my boy again. You even look at 'em.” Draco pressed down, applying pressure on
the throat. The boy's mouth gaped, but no air or sound escaped. His face
darkened instantly. “I'll kill ya.”
With a final shove downward, Draco released the Pet to gasp and sputter and cry
in the corner. Still angry, he stalked the kids, snapping at them to shut up
and stay in their places or he'd let them all starve. Draco finally returned to
his corner with Harry. He glared at any kid who dared look their way and placed
Harry's head gently in his lap.
Hours went by until the tray was finally brought to their door. Draco took four
of everything and gave the rest to the Newbies, skipping the Pets. No one dared
argue. Gently shaking Harry's shoulder, he slowly woke the little boy. Harry
blinked dazed eyes and obediently ate three of everything. Draco quickly ate
his portion, eyeing the boy carefully. Fortunately, the food seemed to restore
Harry completely. The boy smiled at him with bright eyes. 
“You don't think I'm dirty?” he asked.
Draco reached forward and pulled Harry's mouth to his own. The boy gasped in
shock and Draco used that opening to run his tongue into the boy's mouth. It
was both salty and sweet from the food, and Draco took his time, sucking and
tracing every inch. Harry melted against him. When they parted, a string of
saliva briefly connected their swollen lips. 
Grey burned into green. “You're not dirty, Harry,” Draco whispered. “You're
mine.”
Fat tears welled up in Harry's eyes and rolled slowly down the boy's cheeks.
“Draco. . . Draco, love you. . .”
Draco gently pulled the boy into his arms. “Hush. I'll take care of ya.” He
stared off above his charge's head tucked safely under his chin. He had no idea
how he'd make it so, but he felt as if his thoughts were made of crystal. He
would keep his promise.
xXx
A few days passed in surprising bliss for Draco as they were left alone in the
Hold. Draco kept Harry occupied by taking turns telling stories, tending the
cargo, and playing games they made up to pass the time, but the best time of
the day was before they went to sleep and every time they woke when Draco would
kiss Harry long and deep until they were both breathless and flushed.
And then the Master was there. “Draco, bring the Brats!” he bellowed from the
top of the stairs.
Draco wished he could leave Harry, but he knew that would be a dead give-away.
If the Master even suspected Draco's feelings for Harry, the boy would be
tortured and sold for scraps. Steeling himself, he took Harry by the hand.
Harry clung tighter than normal. The last time they went up those stairs Draco
had been separated from him. 
“Come on,” he hissed at the Brats. His glare was enough to get their feet
moving. 
Up the stairs they went. It wasn't unusual for Draco to lead reluctant ones by
the hand, so he didn't bother to let go of Harry. He marched the children to
the room where they would be quickly scrubbed clean. He did his job with empty
eyes, but inside he was on fire. His heart pumped hard and strong.
“Do exactly as I say,” Draco whispered into Harry's ear as he rubbed a scented
towel over the boy's hair. “Do not touch me. Do not look at me. Not when we're
up here. Be still and quiet. As quiet as ya can.”
Harry stared at him with frightened eyes, but he gave a small nod. 
The door to the wash room opened. “Come,” Master barked.
Draco took Harry's hand again and led the children to the viewing room. This
room wasn't bare like the previous one. It was painted a pale blue-grey. Thick
navy blue curtains hung over the windows keeping unwanted eyes away. Luxurious
arm chairs and couches were set against the walls, and a bar took all of one
wall with dozens of gem-hued bottles glinted in the bight artificial light. In
the center of the room sat a low table where one-by-one the children were
shown. 
There were four men. They were dressed in fancy clothes. Gold glinted on
fingers, wrists, and necks. They were smirking and talking. Crystal glasses
full of amber liquid were in hand. Two were smoking cigars. One grabbed his
crotch and said something, making another man laugh. Master was smiling at them
indulgently as he snapped his fingers at Draco.
Draco lazily led a seven-year-old girl to the table where she climbed on. The
rest of the kids pressed against the wall as the men circled her. They ran
thick fingers over her skin as she trembled and cried. Brats were dark-haired
unused kids, so they had no idea what was happening or what would happen to
them if they were chosen. Harry stood next to him, but Draco squeezed his hand
in warning whenever he tried to press too close.
“What about that blond one, Raymond?” a beefy, grey-haired man asked with a sly
wink. “You holding out on us?”
Master put his hand possessively on Draco's head. “This one's mine. Besides,
you all said you preferred Brats. Well, here they are. This is the last one.
He's small. Youngest we have, but he's good quality.” He jerked his chin.
Draco took Harry's hand and led him to the table. As he moved, he locked eyes
with the other men for the first time that night. He put everything he had into
his glare. All his hatred. All his power. With every cell in his being, he told
them all, Mine. He would keep Harry to himself. 
The men stared at the suddenly dangerous child. Those grey eyes promised death.
It did not matter that they were set in the face of a scrawny, dirty five-year-
old. Their animal instinct screamed at them that there was danger here. The way
the boy's hand lingered on the brunet's wrist, they way his body was angled
toward the displayed child, and the ferocious look, it screamed possession. The
men knew at a gut level that a line was being drawn. 
Raymond frowned as the rowdy men grew quiet and shifted their weight awkwardly.
He was behind Draco and the young Brat, but he saw no reason for their
reaction. The kid stood perfectly still up on the table, head ducked. Raymond
shrugged. Maybe it was the kid's size and age. He was a tiny, skinny little
thing. That bothered some people.
He quickly stepped forward with an engaging smile, subtly gesturing Draco to
take the boy off display. “I believe these darlings are desperate for some
loving. Did you make your choice?” he asked. 
Another hand signal had Draco pulling the kids forward, all except for the
smallest who had not been well received. There were seven in all, ranging in
age from seven to twelve. As the buyers caught sight of the cargo once more,
they regained their boisterous banter. Two haggled over the same little girl
and Raymond was able to almost double her price. Finally the four men each took
a child in hand, wrapped them in heavy coats, and departed with their toys. 
Draco led Harry and the three remaining Brats back to the Hold, but he knew his
job was not done. Master had made a fortune tonight and he would want to
celebrate. Draco gave Harry an extra firm push to make sure the boy didn't make
a scene or look back as he went down the stairs alone with the remaining
Brats. 
The Master grabbed Draco by the hair and drug him to the bedroom to play.
“Today was a good day, slave,” Raymond said cheerfully. He flung the boy toward
the bed. “Kneel in the center.” He watched with smug eyes as the little boy did
as he was told.
Draco hated this bed. If he could catch the whole thing on fire, he would, but
it was also routine. It would hurt like hell, it always did, but he'd been here
a hundred times before. He just wanted to get it over with and get back to his
boy. So he moved quickly into position, sitting back on his ankles, knees
spread wide, hands behind his back, wrists up between his shoulder blades. It
pulled on his shoulders painfully to hold the position, but Draco gave no sign
of it. He stared at the far wall and fell into that quiet place where the world
was muted. He'd stay in that faraway place as long as he could until the pain
dragged him back.
Raymond circled the bed, admiring the boy's skin. He reached out and touched
the boy's ass cheek. “Didn't bite you hard as I thought if it's healed in two
days.” He gave a wolfish grin. “Have to fix that.”
Draco winced. How could he have been so stupid? Of course the Master would
notice his marks gone! Rage and hate boiled through his blood as he realized
he'd have to stop Harry from healing him. He wouldn't be allowed that relief
anymore. Unexpected tears burned his eyes and he hated knowing the Master was
seeing it.
“Breaking down already, slut?” Raymond asked with fake sweetness. He had straps
and a metal bar in hand. “This is going to be a good night.”
He put the spreader bar between Draco's thighs. It pushed them even farther
open until Draco felt the painful stretch. The bar was strapped in place with
black leather. Straps also went around his chest and arms, keeping them pinned
up between his shoulder blades and forcing his chest out as his back arched to
accommodate the bound limbs. Last an O-ring was forced into his mouth. The open
circle sat right behind Draco's teeth. Any bigger and Draco's jaw would have
been dislocated. In minutes, his chin and lap would be soaked and shinny with
drool. Last, Raymond gently tucked Draco's hair behind his ears so he could see
the boy's face.
Pale white skin, large grey eyes, eyes that usually were dead until Raymond
beat life into them, soft, shimmering white-gold hair and a gaping red mouth:
positioned on ruby silk sheets, the boy was an erotic masterpiece. Raymond went
to his cupboard already rock-hard. He pulled out a vicious five-tailed
flogger. 
“Ready, Draco?” he asked, hushed with anticipation.
A burning look of absolute hated flashed his way and Raymond nearly came right
there. He whipped his arm down with full force, leather catching the chin,
shoulder, and chest of the slender child. The boy made a sharp cry, but he
never looked away. 
“That's it, boy. Keep your eyes on me.” He wound back and lashed the flogger
down, this time on the faintly scarred thighs, landing a glancing blow on the
boy's exposed penis.
Draco arched with a scream, eyes slamming shut as he dove desperately for his
quiet place. He rocked and shivered as the blows rained down. Every inch of
skin slowly took fire until he felt flayed. The hateful voice of the Master
droned on in the backdrop. Suffering became the whole of his existence. 
Raymond stared mesmerized as Draco's face contorted in agony. He loved that
look, the look of animalistic madness on the child's face. He steadied his hard
cock, the head purple. He kept it even with the boy's wide-open mouth. Every
downstroke of his fist on his cock, he lashed the boy. Until he was matching
Draco moan for moan. Until he was raining blows down fast and furious, his hand
pumping in rhythm and he was about to blow. 
All Draco knew was the red and white of pain until the Master's cum splashed
into his open mouth. Draco screamed, eyes flashing open. Raymond grunted and
moaned as stream after stream of cum hit the boy's mouth and face. Draco's eyes
were blazing. Cum always brought Draco back. The boy was such a slut. Such a
gorgeous slut. 
The white skin was no longer white. Red stripes decorated every inch of the
boy's front, blood spattering him here and there where the flogger actually
broke through the soft skin. The boy was soaked with delicious pain-scented
sweat, and Raymond shivered just imagining the sting of the salt on the
whipped-raw flesh. But his favorite part was the boy's gaping red mouth. 
Draco's tongue writhed, trying to push out the spunk that filled it. Raymond
laughed and laughed as he spurt more. Finally, he was spent and he collapsed on
the bed next to his slave. He was asleep in seconds, the boy's pained whines
and gasps lulling him to sleep.
Body and muscles already burning in agony, Draco screamed his fury, knowing
he'd be tied like this for hours until the Master woke and released him.
xXx
Harry waited an eternity. His anxiety ramped up as every hour passed and Draco
didn't return. What if he never did? What if Harry was alone forever? He was a
filthy, no-good freak. He didn't deserve Draco. Did they find out and take
Draco away? He stared at the door, rarely blinking. His lips were chewed bloody
and he never felt it, consumed with mental anguish, until finally, finally,
Draco returned.
The hurt boy held the tray. Apples and bread tumbled down the stairs as Draco
was unable to keep the tray steady. He was shaking. His skin was a road map of
damage, and he moved stiff and jerky. His eyes were empty; Draco was gone away.
Harry scrambled to gather all the fallen food. Fortunately the other kids
hadn't moved. They were crouched down, terrified. 
Draco walked right by him without a look or word. Harry whimpered and followed
close on his heels. Draco dropped the tray with a clatter and stiffly lowered
himself to the ground until he was lying flat. “Feed the Darks,” he ordered
hoarsely. 
Harry quickly removed two of everything and brought the rest over to the
darker-skinned children. There were five of them. Harry did his best to split
the rest of the food into even amounts and quickly hurried back to Draco. He
began to cry as he took in the welts and cuts. Draco was hurt!
As Harry knelt down, Draco's eyes flashed open and pinned Harry in place with a
look. “Listen, Harry...” He paused to breathe through the pain. “You can't fix
me... all the way... Only some spots, kay? … Only kiss where I'm bleeding, …
but you got to suck real hard... Suck that spot 'til I say.” He hoped the
hickies would would blend in with the bruises the flogger had given him. If
Harry was able to heal the cuts, Draco might be able to avoid the hellish
fevers he typically got after the Master made him bleed.
Sobbing, Harry nodded his head quickly. He ran trembling fingers over Draco's
arm until he found broken skin up by the shoulder. He bent forward over his
knees and put his mouth on the cut. Draco moaned as the boy licked the blood
clean. The sound made Harry's heart slow. He felt the terror of the last few
hours melt away. He was helping Draco.
Draco cupped the back of Harry's head as the boy began to suck in earnest. Each
pull of the little boy's mouth felt like heaven. He gasped and squirmed, his
skin alight with magic. It made his toes curl and his nipples hard. “Harder...”
He felt pleasure coil in his gut. “That's right... Like that... Next one...”
Harry slowly released Draco's skin. He felt hot and shaky as he trailed his
lips over to the next cut and began to suck again. Draco's soft moans, the
feeling of having something warm in his mouth, the taste and smell of Draco, it
all put Harry in a daze of warmth and pleasure he never wanted to end.
Soon both boys were damp with sweat, eyes heavy-lidded and dazed. Draco's skin
was cleaned of blood and the hickeys darkened with every passing minute, adding
to the spots amongst red stripes, a carnival collection. Harry ended his
journey at Draco's crotch. Without warning, he latched on to the bleeding skin
and nestled in tight between Draco's trembling thighs. 
Draco arched in shocked reaction. He stared with wide eyes as the little boy
went down on him. Harry's swollen, bruised lips were wrapped around Draco, his
cheeks hallowing on every firm suck. The little boy stared back with sleepy,
happy green eyes. Draco couldn't catch his breath, his chest heaved with every
gasp. Every pull on the sensitive flesh, Harry's tongue gave a slow lick only
to suck again.
Draco's hands sank into Harry's hair, his small hips rocking upward. “Don't
stop...” he ordered, low and husky.
It was building again, that wave of absolute bliss. It crept closer with every
pull of Harry's mouth. His hands fisted the boy's dark, messy hair tighter as
he arched with a cry, almost... almost... Harry sucked harder, tongue lapping
faster, and Draco exploded into a thousand pieces. 
Harry gentled his mouth as Draco went limp. Shivering and tingling in reaction,
a sleepy warmth saturated his whole body. He smiled as Draco began stroking his
hair and crawled up into his waiting embrace. At peace once more, Harry slid
into sleep.
xXx
When they woke, Harry tilted his head for a spine-tingling kiss, but Draco
reached out and touched his bruised lips instead. Grey eyes met his and Harry
looked away from the concern he saw there. He wanted it so badly, Draco's
attention and concern, but he was still a freak.
Draco frowned. All the places he'd been whipped and not healed burned like
Hell, but he was used to pain. He'd survived down here for a year before Harry
came, after all. He was more worried about Harry's fat lips. It looked like the
boy had been popped in the mouth, and that wasn't because he'd given Draco
hickeys and head. Harry had to have done it to himself. 
It wasn't uncommon for kids to hurt themselves down here. They chewed their
nails, fingers, hair. They scratched themselves. Even bit their lips as Harry
had done. He hadn't cared one bit, but he cared about Harry. And he did not
like it when Harry looked away from him or the way he passively resisted
Draco's concern.
“Look at me,” he demanded and green eyes immediately shot back up. Draco
thumbed Harry's battered mouth. “Fix this.” Where Draco's mouth and body was
poison, Harry's healed. He'd healed worse for Draco.
Harry gasped, eyes wide. Draco was perfect. It made sense that he was healed,
but Harry was a freak. Magic like that wasn't for him. “I-I can't. Not for me,”
he whispered, head moving slowly back and forth in denial.
Draco grasped Harry's jaw and applied pressure until it opened. He pressed his
first two fingers of his free hand forward into the boy's soft mouth. “Get 'em
wet, Harry.” 
Eyes wide, Harry didn't hesitate. He began to lap and suck on those fingers
immediately. 
“Good boy,” Draco purred with a smile that never reached his hard eyes. “Now,
in a minute, I'm gonna touch your mouth, Harry. And I want it ta'heal. I'm
gonna be very upset if it don't.”
Harry's eyes went wider at the command. He'd do anything for Draco; the world
would end if Draco were mad at him. He closed his eyes tight and wished with
all his might. Please work please work Draco wants it to work... In response,
he felt his body begin to warm and he sucked harder on Draco's fingers. His
heart began to race with nerves, but he felt it happening: slow pleasure pulsed
from his mouth. He looked into Draco's face to see him smiling, the blond's
cheeks blushing red, eyes dark with a mirroring warmth. 
Draco pulled his wet fingers from Harry's mouth and traced the boy's battered
lips. Like magic, they healed before Draco's very eyes. Draco felt warm down to
his toes, his heart racing in his chest at the display of power and obedience.
“That's good, Harry. You did so good.” 
Giving a soft cry at the praise, Harry crawled into Draco's lap and wrapped his
legs around Draco's slender waist. 
Draco held him tightly. “Listen, Harry, I will always come back for ya. You
never haveta be afraid of that. Don't worry 'bout me. Unless you don't trust
me?”
Harry gasped. “No! Draco, I trust you!” he cried almost desperately, arms
squeezing tighter. 
“I'll get hurt, but I'll always be okay 'cause I promised ya I'll come back.
And I'll always come back 'cause you're mine, Harry.” Draco's hands slid up
Harry's naked back and into his hair, and then they were kissing, mouths moving
hungrily. 
When they parted, Harry looked into Draco's eyes and burst into tears. “Thank
you, Draco,” he sobbed. “Thank you. Love you so much.” 
Draco pressed Harry's head down to rest on his shoulder and rocked him slowly,
letting him cry. “You're a good boy. I have ya.”
Chapter End
 
***** Escape *****
Escape
It had been two months since Harry had been brought to the Hold. Fortunately,
the Brats were only summoned three more times since then, the trend was for
Angels and Darks. Draco had only had to scare of a few potential buyers. Life
had settled into a rhythm pretty quickly, and soon it felt like they had always
been together in the damp, dark swaying Hold. Harry continued to heal Draco as
much as Draco would allow him, the blond afraid the Master would get
suspicious.
However, Draco was afraid that time was running out for Harry.
He cast his eyes down to the boy. Harry was on his stomach, bare as the day he
was born. He was making a pyramid with bread crumbs. His dark head of messy
hair was thick and wild. His cheeks had a healthy flush and his little tongue
poked out between his petal lips.
Although the little boy was still thin, Draco could no longer see Harry's ribs
and knees. He felt proud that he was taking such good care of Harry, but at the
same time the boy was now more desirable. The Master was bound to get
suspicious why no one wanted him.
Harry glanced up and gave Draco a sweet smile. Draco smiled back, unwilling to
frighten the boy. He just had to think of a plan. And really, there was only
one plan worth considering at this point: Escape. Draco stared upward, his eyes
unfocused. He'd been obsessively thinking about escape for over a year now,
ever since he'd been brought to this Hell. It wasn't going to be easy.
The Master always remained aboard and had five to ten handlers working at all
times. The yacht they were on was called The NorthStar. The Master only docked
to pick up clients. It was never the same dock twice, but Draco was able to
overhear that they were still in New York and The NorthStar traveled up and
down the Hudson mostly, although they did occasionally go out to sea to avoid
police notice.
The best Draco could figure it escape was only possible two ways. One: slip off
the boat and onto the docks somehow when clients were on board. He didn't
really see this as possible unless there was some type of large commotion. Two:
jump off the boat when a storm hit and security was most lax. Everyone bunked
down in a storm. However, Draco wasn't stupid. The chances of survival in the
Hudson or the ocean during a storm wasn't very good. Plus, he now had Harry. He
doubted the boy could swim at all, let alone manage storm-thrashing waves.
Which all led back to the fact that Draco hadn't escaped yet. He kept telling
himself to wait for the right moment, but it had been over a year and no moment
had come. And now he had Harry to worry about. The boy wouldn't make it in the
Hold much longer. The Master didn't like to keep the same kid for more than
three months. He called it good policy. Draco was running out of time, and he
had no idea what to do.
“Draco?”
He blinked and saw that Harry was kneeling next to him. His big green eyes
peered into his face anxiously. Draco offered a smile and pulled the boy into
his side. “It's okay. I'm just thinkin'.”
Harry snuggled in, his hands gently stroking Draco's stomach. Draco dropped his
cheek on top of the boy's messy hair and took a deep breath. Harry even smelled
good.
He'd have to go with option one: escape when the boat was docked. As for the
needed commotion, if Draco could get close enough to the Master somehow and
bite him, he'd kill the bastard once and for all.
That was what Draco most wanted in all the world, but the Master was usually
very, very good about keeping some space between them. At least until Draco was
in a position where he couldn't bite or was nearly unconscious with pain. But
if he could do it, if he could kill the Master, that could be what he needed to
escape.
Draco's breath slowed and deepened. This would have to be done perfectly.
“Harry,” he said and gripped the boy's hair gently, pulling so the boy was
looking up at him. “I wanna play a new game. I wantcha to run up the stairs and
back. I wanna see how fast you can do it.”
Harry smiled, all eagerness to please him. “Okay, Draco!” He jumped to his feet
and ran for the stairs.
“Quiet!” Draco hissed. “Ya gotta do it real quiet, too!”
The little boy nodded his head. He took a funny running position and then went
as fast as he could up the stairs, quiet and light on his feet. When he came
back down, he was red-cheeked and panting. His grin lit up the dark.
“How'd I do, Draco?” he asked.
Draco counted the steps: ten. Harry was already breathless. They'd be caught in
minutes. He shook his head with a mock frown. “Nah. You could do better.
Watch.” Draco ran up the steps, down, back up again, and down before he was
panting. That wasn't really impressive, either. He'd have to practice with
Harry.
“Wow, Draco!” Harry bounced on his toes. “You're fast!”
“Your turn.” Draco smiled and gave Harry a push. The boy obediently ran up the
stairs agin.
They took turns racing up the steps, playing Draco's “game” until their calves
and lungs burned. Even though Draco pushed him, Harry never complained or
balked. Dripping with sweat, visibly trembling and hardly staying on his feet,
Harry got into position again and again. Draco was just as weak, red-faced and
cramping, as he flung himself at the stairs again and again.
“Okay...” Draco finally gasped. “Enough... Let's take... a break.”
They collapsed on their blankets, dripping sweat. Draco smiled. The little boy
was so cute with his face flushed and his wild hair heavy with salty sweat.
Harry smiled back, happy to have Draco's attention. The tray was delivered.
Draco forced his feet under him and jogged up the stairs.
He almost dropped it on the way down, but he managed to keep it steady. He
placed four of everything next to Harry and brought the tray to the Pets. The
kids were staring at him wide-eyed. They thought he had lost his mind.
Draco dropped the tray carelessly, eyes soulless. “Eat.”
The kids scrambled for the food. Draco turned his back in disgust and went to
make sure Harry ate his portion.
xxx
Ten food trays came and went, signaling the passing of about five and a half
days since the start of their “game”, and they could now do ten sprints up the
stairs before they really began to feel it. Draco was stronger and faster than
Harry, but he was also bigger by a few inches and heavier.
Red-faced, sweaty, Draco smiled at Harry. “You're getting good.”
The little boy was bent over, hands on his knees as he gasped in breaths, but
he was beaming at Draco's praise.
Suddenly the door opened with a bang.
Draco moved instantly. He grabbed Harry's wrist, tight enough to bruise, and
practically dove away from the light and toward their blankets. Without missing
a beat, he began rubbing Harry down with a blanket while Harry clumsily tried
to do the same for Draco as the Master yelled for the Brats.
Heart pumping smooth, Draco's eyes hardened. He could feel it. This was it. He
was going to kill the Master today. “You gotta do exactly what I say, okay?” he
demanded, grabbing Harry by the wrist again and towing him over to the group of
three Brats.

“Yes, Draco,” Harry whispered, eyes wide and frightened. “I'll be good.”
Draco softened his hand and pet the boy's hair softly, talking fast. “The
Master is gonna get real sick. It's not gonna be pretty, but you gotta ignore
it and run, kay? You gotta go fast, Harry. You can't let nobody grab you, you
hear me?”
Terror stole across Harry's face as his breath came fast. “Draco?”
“What the hell's taking you so long, slut! Move it!” the Master bellowed.
Draco turned and practically leapt on the youngest of the Brats, a kid only a
little bigger than Draco. He reached between the boy's thighs and pinched right
behind the balls. He knew from experience that was a very sensitive spot. The
boy howled in agony.
“Got a crybaby,” he called. “We're on our way up!”
He turned back to an almost frozen Harry and fisted his hair firmly, getting
Harry's attention, but he kept his voice low and soothing. “You just be fast
and listen to me right away. You do that and I'll be so happy. You want to make
me happy, right?”
Harry gasped and his fear melted a little into something more determined.
“Okay, Draco. I'll be good.”
Draco flashed his eyes to the kids. “Move,” he growled, low and menacing.
The kids scrambled up the stairs. The boy he'd pinched limped and sobbed. Harry
walked just behind the kid with Draco taking the rear, almost pressing against
his back.
They stepped into the hallway. Draco was yanked back by his arm and backhanded
viciously in the face. Lips split and fresh blood spilled. It spattered his
bruised and scarred torso. The red color sat vibrant on his pale, sun-starved
skin.
Draco stared up at Raymond, unaffected, grey eyes dull.
Raymond grabbed the boy by the hair and tilted Draco's head back on his slender
neck to the point that Draco made a wheezing sound as he breathed. “Don't ever
keep me waiting, slut,” he growled in the boy's face and then flung him forward
toward the clutch of frightened Brats, cowering against the walls of the
hallway. “Get them cleaned up. But not you, Draco. I want to see all that
lovely red on you.”
Draco took Harry and the crying boy by the hand and led them to the room with
tiled floors and soapy buckets. He snarled at the others to clean off and saw
to Harry himself. Those green eyes were still too wide, but he wasn't shaking.
He watched Draco's every move, ready to obey.
Draco grinned and kissed him hotly, practically shoving his tongue into Harry's
mouth. The boy would have melted against him, but he held him back, afraid
Harry would smear the blood on Draco's skin. Their mouths came apart, spit and
blood strung between them. Draco tongued his lip and felt it was still busted.
Harry hadn't healed him without permission.
“You're such a good boy, Harry,” he praised, causing the boy to blush and duck
his head.
Draco smoothed his hand over Harry's bare shoulder and reached for the sponge
in the soapy water. He soaped the boy's chest. He gently circled the pink
nipples and stroked the boy's thin stomach. He could practically feel Harry
relaxing under his hands.
“You keep focused on me. Do everything I say and we'll live together away from
here. Promise. I'll take real good care of ya, Harry.” Draco moved the soft
sponge up between Harry's legs before he turned him and had him bend forward.
Harry pressed his hands flat to the wall, pliant in Draco's hands. “Love you,
Draco.”
“Love you, too,” Draco whispered, voice raw as he ran the sponge between
Harry's cheeks and over the tiny hole. The boy gave him no resistance. He was
loose and relaxed, trusting Draco completely. Heart thumping, he stood and
dropped the sponge back in the bucket. “Let's dry you off.”
Gathering a white towel, he held his arms open to the green-eyed boy. Harry
turned into Draco's fluffy embrace happily. He practically rubbed against the
towel, enjoying the touch of the soft cotton as Draco patted him down. A small
sound escaped him, almost like a purr.
Draco promised himself he'd give Harry more things to enjoy and feel against
his skin. He'd give Harry real food, warm food, that would fill him up. He'd
give him sunshine and laughter. He would! They'd get out of here and Draco
would make everything good for Harry.
xxx
Draco stepped into the viewing room last, herding the kids. He kept Harry right
in front of him and within reach. He was on high alert. Master stood a few feet
away like always. He'd only step close if he came up from behind Draco. There
was only one man in the room, but Draco knew instantly this wasn't just any
rich bastard who loved to use kids.
He sat on the couch. There were no jokes and posturing; there was no drink in
hand. He did not engage the Master, merely looked over the Brats that Draco
ushered in. He sat with his ankle resting on his knee, his slacks fitting
perfectly so only a little of his boots - leather and pointed slightly at the
tip - could be seen. He wore a silk button-up of steel-grey. His arms rested
along the back of the couch, his body language open and commanding. His brown
hair was swept back off his square face. His eyes were a dark blue. There was
no gray in that hair and his body had little fat; he was thin and muscled.
This wasn't what Draco would have wanted, but nothing had changed. He couldn't
stay another night trapped on this boat. He knew it in his gut. Harry wasn't
safe here anymore. Draco would find a way to destroy the world before he let
his Harry suffer.
As if sensing Draco's thoughts, green eyes peered over a thin, bare shoulder to
meet his eyes. Draco stared back unblinking, eyes fierce. Harry's gaze dropped
and he looked ahead once more. Draco let his lips curl up in a slight smile.
“I don't want them on the table,” the man spoke, voice deep and even. He moved
an arm to point at the floor in front of his crossed legs. “Here. And give me a
twirl.”
As Draco led the first Brat forward, he met the man's eyes, trying to see which
way he'd jump when Draco made his move. Interestingly enough, the man stared
back, not once looking at the trembling Brat quietly crying.
Wary, Draco stared back, taking in every tiny detail until they reached the
indicated spot. Draco turned an uncaring eye to the child and applied pressure
to the girl's shoulder. “Turn.”
The girl began to do so, but clumsy and fast.
“Slower,” Draco hissed.
The girl did as she was told and Draco briefly stroked her shoulder in praise
to keep her calm. He split his attention between the girl and the man. He
realized he hadn't met a man like this one and had no way to guess what he'd
do.
xxx
Brendon watched the small blond boy with his undivided attention as he led a
naked little girl forward. Even the strongest men and women quailed under his
gaze. The boy, however, merely watched back, one wolf-minded soul evaluating
another.
He'd been sent here to gather a toy for his brother's business associate. He
could care less what weak-minded men sought for pleasure. The fake dominance
and illusion of power disgusted Brendon. He figured he'd pick the first child
he was shown and go home, but the boy interested him.
He almost chuckled as the boy effortlessly mastered the terrified child, having
her bend to his will with perfect control. He knew without a doubt that these
games disgusted the boy as well, and not for the reasons an abused child would.
Brendon's eyes lifted to the seller, really seeing him for the first time.
Raymond was all bulky weight, dark hair, and mean eyes. The type who believed
he could master the world by beating it into submission.
The second child was brought forward. A boy.
If Brendon exerted himself at all, in less than a week he could have Raymond
hanging on his every word, desperate to please him, and Brendon wouldn't have
to beat him once. Because the truth was, the man was weak-minded. He had no
true self-control and therefore could never truly dominate another. He could
only abuse, terrify, break. That's why the pathetic bastard had been attracted
to the business of selling children in the first place.
Brendon really did smile as he looked back to the little blond. Raymond had
only half-convinced himself that he controlled the little one, but the truth
was clear to those who knew how to look.
Even though the boy showed evidence of sustained abuse - bruises, scars, blood-
coated skin, underfed and pale from lack of sunlight - it was the man who stood
out of reach, who approached the boy carefully. Oh, he postured well, but
Brendon could see it plainly. The boy was half in control already.
The third child was brought forward. Another girl.
All throughout the lovely show of true control, those grey eyes would flash
over, keeping Brendon in sight, watching every move Brendon made. They were
bright with adrenaline, burning with repressed action, and Brendon began to
realize that the young child was about to make a move. The boy was furiously
working to place the unexpected Brendon into his likely very carefully crafted
plans.
And then something beautiful happened. The boy took the smallest and fourth
child by the wrist.
To the untrained eye, the boy repeated the exact same routine he had with the
other children, but Brendon was special and noticed the difference right away.
He felt his pulse jump as the dark-haired boy's eyes lifted to the blond's face
the instant he was touched. They dropped to the floor not because the dark-
haired child wanted them to but out of obedience. He'd been told to look away,
likely before they'd entered the room.
The little boy moved with the blond in perfect tandem, attuned to the blond's
every move. His wolf-boy's whole demeanor changed. It became charged with power
and purpose. Those eyes were no longer grey as they stared Brendon down but
shining disks of silver, looking more wolf-like than ever.
Brendon instinctively tensed, shifting his weight and putting his feet flat on
the floor at this genuine challenge. He had to breathe deep to relax again. He
had no interest in touching what was not his, and the little dark-haired boy
was very clearly not his.
Brendon's amusement and pleasure at meeting a like-minded soul disappeared in a
flash. Indomitable or not, the blond was a child. He'd survive this place, it
would actually forge him into an unstoppable force, but the dynamics had
shifted completely once the blond had bonded the submissive.
The blond would not be able to protect the dark-haired boy here and that would
be absolutely unacceptable. With that in mind, Brendon suddenly knew with
absolute certainty what the boy was planning: escape.
The small brunet was turning in a graceful circle, his body unconsciously
leaning toward his blond protector. The blond stared at Brendon fiercely, his
hand briefly flickering to caress and sooth the smaller boy.
Brendon met that shinning silver gaze and inclined his head.
“Good choice!” Raymond suddenly boomed.
Brendon's eyes flashed up to meet the man's. “I'll take him now.” Rising
gracefully to his feet, he flicked his fingers. “You have this one well
trained,” he remarked. “I hope I can expect the same from the other.” - He very
carefully did not say 'with mine'.
Raymond's piggy eyes squinted as he grinned. He moved closer to them, strutting
and sticking out his chest, proud and showing off - weak. “Draco is mine.” He
reached forward to lay a possessive hand on the boy's head. “You'll have to...”
Fast as a striking snake, Draco whipped around and lunged at that hand.
Brendon's face split into a fierce grin as he heard the little wolf boy growl
as he clamped down, tearing flesh with his bare teeth.
xxx
Heart pounding with searing hatred, the world slowed into crystalline images.
He felt the Master reach for him. Thousands of hours under this bastard boiled
to the surface. All the screams, the agony, blood, cum, and tears built into a
ferocious growl as he turned on the bastard at last.
Draco felt hot, throbbing power deep in his gut as he launched himself forward
and bit down on the man's guilty hand. Skin tore, blood splashed his tongue,
and Draco howled in victory as all that hatred and pain and power lashed
forward faster than any whip ever could into that open wound.
Raymond flung him away with a furious, terrified bellow. The sheer force of the
blow sent Draco skidding across the floor until he came up hard against the
legs of the table.
Draco practically howled with laughter, his first laugh in two years. He sprang
to his feet to see Raymond stagger back, face already swelling and going
splotchy. The man collapsed and began to seizure. Draco darted his eyes to the
buyer, but he was staring at Raymond in fascination.
“Run!” Draco barked.
Harry moved instantly. The little boy bolted for the only door. Draco was hot
on his heels. One more look back and he saw the buyer chuckling, and then his
eyes faced forward on his boy as he ran.
“Right!”
They careened around the corner and sprinted down the hallway. Draco shouted
directions. They finally reached a ladder and scrambled up, still not out of
breath. The hatch at the top took both of their shoulders to open. It hit the
deck with a bang, and icy night air poured over their faces.
Draco shoved Harry up, found the dock on the far right and pushed the boy that
way.
“Hey!”
“Stop!”
The cries came from different directions and Draco pounded after Harry,
glancing left and right to see huge men running toward them. One lifted a metal
gun. Draco flung himself forward and tackled Harry to the ground just as a bang
sounded.
Grabbing Harry roughly by the arm, he pulled the smaller boy to his feet. “Keep
low! Go fast!”
Draco's bare feet slip-slid on the varnished deck as he scrambled after his
boy. Harry was gasping now, clearly terrified. Draco was too focused to be
scared. The boat dipped and swayed gracefully against the level wooden dock. It
was all he could see.
“Jump!” he screamed and shoved the boy forward.
Harry made the leap and crumpled to his knees as the second shot went off.
Draco felt something push him forward in mid jump. He sailed over the dock and
almost went into the water on the other side.
Harry was screaming. There was pain. Searing pain.
Draco shoved it aside as he rolled, hands clawing at the wooden planks to stay
on top. He felt several nails tear away. He grit his teeth and stood, fury
moving him forward. He was not going to get this far only to fail.
“Run, Harry! RUN!” he snarled.
The boy's eyes were wild, but he spun and took off down the dock toward the
shore. Draco stumbled a few steps before catching his stride.
“Brendon O'Shea!”
Draco looked back at the yell, but he didn't slow. The buyer had a gun and was
blocking the dock so the Master's men couldn't shoot or go after them. He gave
Draco a jaunty salute. Draco whipped his head forward before he caught his foot
on something and wiped out. He saw Harry reach land. People were screaming as
the naked boy ran past. Draco pinned his stare on that bare back and ran.
xxx
All the screaming and running and loud bangs were bad, but the image of blood
spraying out of Draco's shoulder was the worst. But Draco had said to run, so
Harry ran. He wanted to make Draco happy. He wanted to be good the way he was
only with Draco. Draco loved him. He would make everything okay if Harry could
just listen and be good.
Sobbing, Harry practically collapsed in a tiny alley only a few feet wide. He
couldn't run any more. His side hurt bad and his feet were throbbing in hot
agony. He looked behind him. For a terrifying moment, Draco wasn't there, then
the blond was filling the mouth of the alley and stumbling in after Harry.
Harry gave a cry of utter relief and practically flung himself at the blond.
Draco gave a cry of his own, but he caught Harry and held him close. They were
both panting, their bare chests rising and falling rapidly, slick with sweat
and soon blood.
Harry's fingers ghosted over Draco's shoulder and he moaned at the gushing hole
he found. Draco put his back to the alley wall and slid down before tipping
over completely.
“Draco!” Harry screamed, more terrified in that moment than he had been all
night. “DRACO!”
He knelt and put his mouth to the gushing wound. Swallowing quickly as his
mouth was filled again and again, Harry wrapped his body around the other
boy's. He closed his eyes and just let himself fall into everything that was
Draco:
kisses gentle touches watching eyes smiles food love warmth being needed being
wanted promises rules being good Draco Draco DRACO
Harry gave it everything he had. Until the world greyed out and Harry felt like
they were swaying, like back on the Hold. Until the mouthfuls slowed and his
belly was almost too full of the hot liquid that was Draco.
xxx
Draco moaned as he was drug back to consciousness. Pain and pleasure pounded
him in waves that slowly ebbed and he realized he'd already reached the peak
and was falling down the other side. He barely remembered the alley and didn't
remember passing out at all. All he knew was that he was lying on slick
pavement, Harry was wrapped around him and was burning hot as a furnace.
He lifted himself up on his elbow and hissed as his shoulder pulled. Harry's
mouth fell away from his skin and he saw a ragged circle of raw skin where he'd
been shot. He felt only a little light-headed. Harry had just saved his life.
He cradled the boy's head gently to his chest as he sat more fully. Harry was
almost completely out. He was ghostly pale and looked as thin has he had when
he first arrived in the Hold. All the extra weight Draco had managed to put on
the boy was gone. The green eyes were dark. Harry was losing consciousness.
“Harry,” Draco rasped. He shifted the boy up so he was more firmly in his arms,
his head resting on Draco's shoulder. “Harry. We're free. You did so good,
Harry. I love you so much. We're free!” he laughed for the second time in
years. “Free!”
Harry gave a weak whine, eyes fluttering closed.
Draco had never felt so full of emotion. He stared into Harry's lax face, the
boy having spent everything he had to save Draco. He stared and felt such pure
love that he didn't think he'd ever be able to contain it without bursting.
The feeling grew and grew until Draco was panting harshly and tears spilled
over his cheeks. He stared into Harry's face until he was suddenly curling
forward and putting his mouth on Harry's shoulder, on the place that mirrored
where Draco had been shot and saved. He put his mouth on that spot and bit
down, letting his love spill forward into that broken skin.
Draco's eyes widened, shocked at what he was doing, but he could feel his power
wasn't going to hurt Harry. He'd never hurt Harry.
He felt all the blood that Harry had swallowed, felt his power reach for his
own blood in Harry's belly. Through that blood, his power spread throughout
Harry's body, making him Draco's in a way more real than before.
And he felt Harry's power still echoing inside his own body, felt that healing
warmth meet and meld with Draco's deadly power and circle between them, fold
and entwine and separate only to circle again.
It was powerful. It was overwhelming. It was perfect.
And then Draco tumbled into blackness knowing nothing at all.
Chapter End
A. Should they be found and taken to the police?
B. Should they wake and go see Brendon?
C. Should Draco try to survive with Harry on the streets under his own wits and
power?
***** Choices *****
Making Choices
Draco woke with a sharp hiss as the first drop of cold rain hit his skin. His
head whipped up and he looked around frantically. He was in a narrow alley an
adult would have to turn sideways to fit in; there were cars and people, noise,
horrible sour smell of garbage and car fumes. 
Heart beating fast, Draco curled around Harry, shivering as the rain began to
pour down. It was the middle of the day and a cold 61 degrees Fahrenheit that
was quickly dropping, although Draco didn't know it. All he knew was that it
was cold. They were naked and alone in the middle of January in New York City.
Harry was still unconscious. His ribs showed again. Worse, the little boy's
feet were scrapped and raw, bleeding in some places. They were both naked and
probably not far from the docks. Raymond might be dead, but the bastard had
worked for very powerful people. They'd be after Draco for blood. He and Harry
were free, but they were hardly saved. Not yet.
Draco pulled Harry even closer into his arms for warmth. His shoulder throbbed
hotly and his own feet were cut to ribbons, but he hardly felt it. Pain didn't
really register for him unless it was excruciating. He stared out the mouth of
the alley into the curtain of rain at all the blurry shapes and figures rushing
past. He had to think of something! He had to take care of Harry.
It didn't take him long to figure out they needed help. His teeth were
beginning to chatter and his nose and fingers were numb. He'd have to wait
until nightfall when there were less people around to see them. Then he'd get
Harry up and moving. Stay out of sight and get further away from the docks. 
Draco was pulled from his thoughts as something seemed to press at his head. He
shook his head back and forth, his hair flopping wetly around his face. The
rain was a loud patter in his ears and it was so damn cold, but something was
whispering, distracting him. Feelings... They were feelings.
fear confused -“Draco,” Harry's sweet voice rose as the feelings grew sharper. 
Draco was panting, shaking his head back and forth, trying to get the weirdness
out of his head. 
fear worry -“Dr-draco!” Harry turned in his arms and had his hands on Draco's
face, trying to peer into his eyes. His lips were blue and his teeth were
chattering, too.
“I'm fine,” he hissed, forcing his head to still and his hands to stop shaking.
pain fear - “Draco, you're in my head. Hear you,” Harry whimpered, green eyes
falling closed.
The rain began to slow, thank god! It had been a quick shower, but they were
long since drenched. Draco blinked his eyes clear of the water and pressed his
forehead firmly to Harry's. His heart pounded a mile a minute. His mind raced
and he felt the - pain fear -spike in his head. Holy shit! 
“You can feel my feelings, Harry?” he demanded. 
“No.” Harry's eyes cracked open. “Hear you talking in my head.”
Draco could feel Harry's feelings, but Harry could hear his thoughts! He had to
control it somehow. It was his job to take care of Harry not scare the kid or
hurt him. Fisting his hand in Harry's wet hair, he pulled Harry's head back and
stared into the boy's face. He felt along the weird feelings, searching for a
way to mute his mind, so Harry couldn't hear. He used Harry's pain as a guide. 
They were both gasping now. Wisps of steam rose from their bodies. At least
they weren't so cold anymore. Draco's arms trembled from the effort, his whole
body strung tight as he forced his power to search and map. He pushed
everything aside and focused just on that. 
He could almost see it, like a hula hoop. The top of the circle was Draco's
mind pouring into Harry. The bottom of the circle was Harry's feelings pouring
into Draco. Draco wanted to make the top flexible, so that he could pinch off
the flow or narrow the tube so only the thoughts Draco wanted would go
through. 
It felt like trying to bend a steel bar. Draco strained and squeezed down with
all his mental might. Hours passed. They were both crying. Draco's nose began
to bleed. Until finally the pressure in their minds shifted. Harry's pain
disappeared, but the throbbing worry fear remained. 
Draco opened his eyes to see that night had long fallen. Their panting breaths
clouded the air. It was below freezing now, and the streets were empty at last.
Draco held Harry to his chest. The little boy was shaking from the cold. “I f-
fixed it. It's quiet again, y-yeah?”
“Y-y-yes, Dr-dr-aco-o,” Harry whispered tearfully, teeth chattering and
practically burrowing into Draco's chest.
“But I c-can still t-talk to you. S-see?” Draco focused on the tubing running
through the core of his mind like a hot brand. I'm right here, Harry. We'll
never be apart again.
love joy - “Dr-draco!” Harry gasped and flung his arms around Draco's neck. 
Draco smiled at him and smoothed his hair back from his face. “Let's g-go. We
g-gotta find som-someo-one to help us get cl-clothes. And you n-need to eat-t-
t.” He stood stiffly and pulled Harry to his feet.
pain -Harry didn't say anything about his feet or the cold, but Draco could
feel both biting at the boy. He wished he could carry Harry, but he wasn't that
big yet. 
Gently, he wrapped himself around Harry from behind, trying to keep the smaller
boy warm. It was awkward until they found a rhythm and they almost fell a dozen
times. They ran across any open spaces as fast as they could and tried to keep
to the shadows and alleys as much as possible. Harry's pained feet and empty
stomach beat at Draco harder and harder.
They were exiting their fifth alley when Draco finally saw someone. A skinny
older black man was sitting on a stoop of a closed store and leaning against
the wall. A battered stuffed duffel sat next to him. He had long dreads and a
bunch of mix-matched clothes way too big for his skinny frame. He looked to be
sleeping.
Draco pulled Harry so that the little boy was sitting just out of sight of the
mouth of the alley. “I'm g-gonna go t-talk to him-m-m. Rest h-here.”
pain trust love - “Yes-s-s, Dr-draco.”
Looking both ways to make sure no one else was on the street, Draco reached
back to absently pat Harry's head. “G-good-d b-boy.”
happy
Draco scampered quickly over to the stoop. He crouched down next to the man,
drawing his knees to his chest to cover his exposed parts and carefully tugged
on the man's sleeve. He smelled, but so did Draco after walking through dirty
alleys for the last hour.
xxx
Leon swung his hand out with a wild yell. The dogs were at him again. Blinking,
he saw that a kid, not a dog, was crouched next to him, leaning away as far as
he could and still stay on the stoop. “The hell!” he growled and pulled his
arms in close. 
He stared. Damn kid didn't have any clothes on! He also had a busted face, a
shoulder that looked like a healing gun wound, and dangerous eyes. This wasn't
a normal weepy kid. “The hell?” This time it was a question.
“You g-got-t-t some cl-clothes?” the kid spoke evenly through his chattering
teeth, body still tensed to bolt. Poor damn bastard. 
“Yeah. Hold on. I got me a sweatshirt ya could wear. Maybe some boxers, but
they'll fall right plum off ya.”
“I n-need two.” The boy met Leon's surprised look with an unwavering stare that
spoke volumes. “If y-you got-t-t 'em to spar-re.”
Leon nodded and pulled his duffle toward him. He'd be giving the boy half of
what he owned, but it wasn't like he could let the kid run around bare. “How
big you need it?” he asked.
“The smallest-t-t you got-t.”
Leon shook his head. What the hell was the world coming to that two naked kids
were running around the city looking beat to hell in the dead of night in the
middle of January no less!? 
He pulled out his two smallest sweatshirts. One was grey, but it had originally
been white. It was thread-bare, soft, worn almost to pieces. The other was
bright orange with a  tropical bird of some restaurant. Leon had known why it
had ended up at the Goodwill. It was god awful. Leon wore it as little as
possible, so it was in better condition than the grey, but it was still stained
and worn. 
The kid slipped on the grey sweatshirt with a quiet. “Th-thank you.”
Leon handed over his only other pair of boxers. They stank a bit and were
crumpled. The kid didn't even hesitate and tried to slip them on, but just as
Leon had guessed they slid right off no matter what the kid did. He gave them
back and Leon slid them into his bag. That's when he noticed the kid's feet.
They were torn and bleeding.
“Boy, ya gotta take care of them feet or ya ain't gonna make it long,” he said
worriedly.
The boy stood. He didn't even wince. The worn grey sweatshirt fell off one
shoulder, but it covered the boy at least. It fell to just above the kid's
knobby knees and well past his hands. Boy couldn't be older than five. Shit.
“I'll b-b-be f-fine,” the kid said, holding the ugly orange shirt to him as if
afraid Leon was gonna yank it back. 
“Fine,” Leon snorted. “Ya got a plan there, kid? Where ya gonna eat? Or sleep?
Dogs be around. They get ya if you're not careful. And those feet gonna get
infected real fast. Gonna go to yer heart or head and kill ya right dead.”
Grey eyes met his in a way that no kid had ever looked at him before. “You g-
got advic-ce? I'll h-hear it.”
“Well shit.” Leon shifted unhappily. “There's shelters and soup kitchens, but
people ain't gonna let you go when they see yer alone.” It was clear as day
that the kid was running from serious shit. Still, the kid wouldn't make it
alone. His voice softened, trying to convince the poor boy. “But maybe that
ain't a bad thing. At least for a few more years 'til you get taller and big
enough for some kinda work.”
“What would-d happe-en-n if I went-t-t there?” the kid asked.
Leon couldn't lie. “I guess they'd be calling the cops. They'd ask you where
yer folks were and what happened. They'd likely take ya to a hospital all
banged up like that. Then find some place for ya to stay. People to look after
ya at least a little.” Leon sighed sadly. “Could be a good deal or ya could get
unlucky.”
The kid grinned. He had straight tiny teeth. It wasn't a happy look. “I'm
guess-sing-g unlucky-y.”
Leon shrugged. “Look. Ya can't make it on the streets. Not as ya are. Yer
naked. The nights are gonna freeze ya out. Gonna get real sleepy-like. The
shivers'll stop and ya'll feel good. Then ya'll go ta sleep and never wake
again. That's the facts. Gonna haveta take yer chances with the coppers.”
The kid shook his head, but he didn't run off. He stood there shivering and
bare foot in Leon's sweatshirt. Finally, he lifted his eyes and made eye
contact again. “Know-w how I can fi-fnd someone if I onl-ly g-got a n-nam-me?”
“Ya got somewhere to go?” Leon asked hopefully. 
The kid only stared at him, and Leon knew the boy wouldn't be telling him
personal information like that. This was one wary brat. He sighed again and
pointed down the street. 
“Ya go down there and take a left. There's a convenience store. It gots a
payphone and a book. Some pages be torn out, but ya could try. If ya find their
name, then their number will be there and ya can call.”
The kid stared harder than ever and Leon shifted uncomfortably. But then the
boy looked away. Leon followed his gaze and his mouth almost fell open. Another
little boy, naked but not beaten like the blond, was scuttling over to them. 
The blond had the orange sweatshirt ready, and as soon as the boy was within
reach, he tugged it over the boy's head. It fell past the kid's knees and
almost off both shoulders. It was almost low enough to show the kid's nipple. 
Green eyes flashed up at him shyly as the first boy took the too long sleeves
and tied them up around the boy's neck like a scarf. The boy wouldn't be able
to use his arms, but the cold was deadly and they had already been out in it
too long. 
“Th-thank-k y-you-u,” the little dark-haired boy chattered shyly. 
Leon flapped his hand, still shocked about everything. “There ain't more of ya,
is there?” he demanded.
The blond shook his head. “No. Look-k-k. I can't r-read, so could ya h-help-
p me look for a n-name in that book-k-k you was talkin-ing about?”
“Shit.” Leon stared at the two lost kids and sighed. “Yeah. Guess I will.” He
grabbed his duffle. 
As they made their way down the street, Leon was on high alert. He didn't want
anyone getting the wrong idea or dogs to attack. Even so, he made sure to walk
slow. A glance over his shoulder showed him that the blond was staring
stoically ahead. He had the green-eyed boy by the hand. The other kid had his
head low, either from pain or exhaustion, maybe both.
There was a street lamp by the phone booth. Good thing the kids had shirts on.
They still looked a right mess, but it was better than being naked. He winced
as the bright orange sweatshirt practically glowed in the night. He quickly
grabbed the book, eyeing the store clerk inside the convenience store warily.
“What's the name?” he demanded. 
The blond was at his elbow, trying to watch everything he did. “Bren-ndon
O'Shea-a.”
“Shit,” he said again. There was gonna be at least a couple of names like that.
He found the right page and grimaced. “Got ten of 'em.”
Grey eyes stared up at him. “Sh-show me and I'll cal-all.”
“Ya haveta have money to call unless yer callin' collect.”
“Show-w-w me-e.”
Deon did so: 18002655328, then the phone number. Giving the kids privacy, he
stood with his back to the booth. He was careful to block the view of the clerk
so the man couldn't see the kids. Didn't need him calling the police when the
boys were close to getting help. Damn kid was smart, too. Memorized the
1.800.Collect number right fast. 
“Dr-draco,” he heard the kid say. 
Leon grinned. Draco meant dragon. Seeing how the kid was banged up and the
other one was just fine if half-starved, he bet the name fit perfectly.
Protective and possessive as hell probably fit the kid to a T.
… 
Draco listened to the phone ring. - hunger pain trust cold– washed through him
in gentle waves. Harry was leaning against his side. He was staring at the
phonebook curiously. 
The first number declined to accept the call. The second and third didn't
answer. The fourth declined. He could see the man outside the booth beginning
to get shifty. His head was darting around, and he was beginning to mutter to
himself. Something about dragons. A check on Harry told him he wasn't alarmed
by the man's weird behavior. He was still interested in the book. 
“Hello?” The voice was definitely the buyer's from the night before. 
“You told me your name,” Draco said and it took all his willpower not to
chatter. “What do you want?”
“Just thought you should have it.” There was a pause. “I'm willing to grant you
shelter. I have enough favors I can pull to hide you good enough the mob won't
find you. In exchange, I'm going to have you clean the private rooms where not
so legal stuff happens. Employees aren't trustworthy enough. The club makes me
a fortune, but I hate cleaning.”
Draco said nothing.
“Cleaning and nothing else. Now, it's not going to be an easy job, but you'll
live free of charge in my guest room in the small apartment above the club.
You'll mostly have the place to yourself. I only crash there if I get held up
at the club really late. I prefer my penthouse downtown.”
Draco swallowed hard. His hand was holding the phone cord so tightly that his
fingers where white. Was this a trap? Another Hold? He was so cold, colder than
on the Hold even at it's coldest, and Harry's hunger pressed at him like
something alive. The black man's warning that the cold would put them to sleep
and then kill them rang in his head. 
“You can come and go as you please. If you don't like the arrangement, you can
take off.”
Draco wanted to scream. It sounded alright, but what if it was all a lie? He
closed his eyes tight and thought back to their escape. It was still so vivid
in his mind. Brendon had been strange. He'd been different. Breath leaving him
in a loud rush, Draco decided he'd have to try it. If the worst happened, he'd
stage another murder and escape. 
“O-okay-y.”
“Where are you?” Brendon asked.
Draco looked to the homeless man who was practically dancing, he was so
anxious. “Where are-re we?”
“9th Ave and West 23rd Street,” the man answered, voice a whisper. “A few
blocks east of Chelsea Piers.”
Brendon chuckled, the laugh warm and genuine. “Almost made your way right to
me. I'm right around the corner. I'll be there in about five minutes.”
The phone went dead and Draco hung it back on it's cradle. He told the man they
were going to be picked up, and the man pointed at a darkened nook off to the
side of the convenience store. Draco nodded. 
“Th-thanks,” he said. “F-for all the h-help.” It burned him that he needed it,
from this guy and from Brendon, but he didn't let it show. Harry was staring up
at him – happy hungry cold– and he didn't want worry him.
The man grinned, revealing several missing teeth. “Good luck, boys,” he
whispered and hurried away.
Draco pulled Harry after him and they sat against the building in the shadows.
Harry crawled into his lap and Draco wrapped him up as best he could, pulling
the sweatshirt over the boy's stick-thin legs and feet. Harry was asleep in
seconds, tremors quaking through his small body constantly. 
Draco sighed and held Harry close, keeping a lookout. The sweatshirt was itchy
but comforting. It had been two years probably since he'd worn clothes, and it
was weird to be out in the open. There were so many lights even this late. And
a lot of sounds, too: cars and trains. He could even hear the hum of the
electricity in the store. The shit and piss smell was the same, though. 
A car pulled up fast. It was black and quieter than other cars. Draco knew
instantly it was Brendon's before he even saw the man. Sure enough, Brendon
stepped out, shut the door and leaned against the door with his arms-crossed.
He wore grey slacks tonight and a thick, black sweater that fit him perfectly. 
Wake up, Harry. Time to go.
The boy blinked awake with a large yawn – hunger cold curiosity. “Draco?”
Draco smoothed Harry's ruffled hair from his face. “We're g-gonna go with this-
s guy for a littl-le bit, and I'm g-gonna get-t ya someth-thin-in to eat.”
Harry just nodded, still shaking –hunger happy cold. 
Draco gripped Harry's chin, forcing the boy to meet his eyes. “You k-keep your
eyes on me-e. Don't talk-k to him at al-ll. That's my j-job.”
trust love - “Yes-s, Dr-drac-co.”
“G-good.” Draco leaned forward and kissed him quickly.
happy
Brendon watched as they came out of the shadows. He kept his eyes on Draco,
which Draco appreciated, and they came to a stop just out of arm's reach.
Brendon nodded his head, like he had on the boat, and opened the back door for
them. Draco peered inside; it was empty. 
He shot Brendon a hard look. “The th-thing with Raymond-d wasn't a fl-fluke. I
can kill-l ya any tim-me.”
Brendon stared hard at the little boy glaring defiantly up at him. “How did you
manage that, if I may ask?” - Had it been a weird deadly allergy that Draco had
known about, or had the boy managed to hold some poison in his mouth, waiting
for that moment to bite his skin and infect the man? Although the last was
pretty unbelievable. Any poison that potent would have killed Draco, too.
The boy grinned, flashing his teeth, which cattered with cold. It was a
remarably fierce look. “Let-t's-s hope ya d-don't-t find out-t-t.” 
Brendon had no idea what to think. In the end, he shrugged. He'd seen some
really bizarre, fucked-up things in the world. This was just one more. “I could
kill you, too. I'm not going to, though. And you're not going to kill me.” He
flashed a grin of his own. “We're too rare to waste. It'd be a shame. Now come
on before all the heat escapes.”
Draco gave the man one last warning glare before he climbed inside, pulling
Harry after him. Instantly he was wrapped in almost painful heat. As soon as
Brendon shut the door and was in the driver's seat, he made his first demand. 
“I n-need f-food. Right n-now.”
“Sure,” Brendon answered easily. He put the car in drive and peeled out of the
parking lot, making Draco and Harry come up hard against the door. 
Draco glared at the back of Brendon's head as he showed Harry how to put on his
seatbelt. His hands were clumsy, throbbing painfully as they slowly defrosted. 
“I hate cooking,” Brendon said, voice cheery. “I'll order Chinese. After
tonight, you'll have to figure that stuff out for yourself. The fridge is
always stocked, but I'm not going to cook for you.”
“I c-can cook-k,” Harry whispered, looking up at Draco uncertainly –pain eager.
Draco was pleasantly surprised. He smiled at the boy and pet his hair. “That's
g-good. I can't c-cook either.”
relief hunger happy need 
Draco continued to pet Harry's head, hoping to calm the boy and watched the
world fly by. It had been so long since he'd seen anything except for the
inside of that damn boat. Draco grit his teeth and vowed he'd never be trapped
again. Not ever again.
Chapter End 
A/N: Thank you for your input! I look forward to hearing from you again!
***** Chains *****
                                    Chains
Brendon hadn't been lying about being close. They were already turning into a
low-ceilinged parking garage before they had a chance to really defrost. The
sleek car slid smoothly into a spot directly under a light and camera with a
sign that read “reserved”. Draco couldn't read, but he knew the sign meant
“mine”. 
Brendon climbed out of the car and opened the door for them again. Draco slid
out first and took Harry's hand. The cold was like a slap in the face after the
warmth, but he was quickly distracted by the sights. The street was lined with
cars and people. Some of them looked how Draco had come to expect: dark
clothes, a little flash of gold here and there, but there were some that made
Draco's eyes wide in shock. 
He saw whole groups of girls who wore sequined dresses or weird neon tights and
big jackets and shoes that had almost twelve inches added to the bottom. Their
hair was long and often in weird shapes and colors. Make-up was vibrant and
verged on clown-ish. And there were guys who wore vibrantly colored jackets and
frizzed out hair with big jewelry. They laughed and yelled on the street,
running to cars or into and out of buildings. It was like a big party.
Brendon walked at a good pace; not fast enough to draw attention, but he didn't
dally either. Draco noticed they got a few looks, but no one tried to stop
them. Most of the people were lined up trying to get into the building with no
windows and a steel door large enough to drive a car through. Draco assumed it
was a club and that the black men who stood on either side of that door –
taller and wider than any men Draco had seen before – acted as guards. To prove
him correct, one of the guards opened a door that was person-sized and set
flush into the larger door. It had been invisible until the guard opened it,
and 80s rock poured into the street.
Brendon slid through the crowd and gave a salut and grin to the guards. Both
men nodded their heads, but Brendon didn't go through their door. Instead he
went a few feet down to a screen of black metal bars and mesh. Brendon flashed
Draco a smile and crouched to unlock the padlock at the bottom. He flung the
screen up; it rattled all the way and banged once it reached the top. Behind it
was another door made of metal that took a second key. Draco hurried Harry
inside; Brendon shut the steel door behind them with a clang. 
Music seeped through the walls loud enough Brendon had to shout to be heard.
“Apartment is up,” he said, gesturing to the stairs two steps in front of them.
His other hand gestured to a very narrow hallway that led to stairs that went
down. “Basement is for private parties. You'll be in charge of keeping that
clean.”
Draco said nothing. He shivered, still cold, and watched Brendon's every move.
The man just flashed a smile and climbed up the stairs to the apartment. There
was another door, this time wooden with a peep hole. Another set of keys. Then
they were inside and wrapped in warmth once more.
Draco stood just inside the door. The living room was open with low furniture
in weird shapes. There was a bookshelf and a big, boxy tv encased in dark wood.
Rugs covered the glossy wooden floors, also in weird shapes. There was a lot of
grey and white in the room, but the wood floors and hints of deep purple gave
the place color. A kitchen was off to the left. Draco could just make out a
refrigerator and some white cupboards over a counter-top with bar stools.
Brendon dropped his keys in a bowel on a tall table next to the door. “I'll
show you the bath. Take your time. It'll be at least thirty minutes before the
food gets here.”
Draco followed the man silently across the living room and down a hallway.
There was art on the walls, photographs of people screaming or splashed with
colored-paint. When they weren't head shots, Draco noticed they were all
naked. 
“My room's at the back. I keep that locked. Here's the bathroom,” Brendon
pointed to a door with fogged glass squares. “Right next to it is the guest
room. I got my own bathroom, so this will mostly be yours unless I have people
over for drinks or something. The door across from your room is the office.
That's locked, too. There's a small laundry room off the kitchen. I'll show
that to you later. Small place, but it will do for now.”
Draco gave a sharp nod and stared at Brendon, willing him to leave. The man
gave another of his grins and went back toward the living room. Draco took
Harry's hand and pulled him inside the bathroom, locking the door behind them. 
The bathroom was narrow, but it had a long, deep tub on the right and a sink
and toilet on the left. A closet between the door and sink revealed a small
space where towels and such were kept. Absolutely everything in the room was in
shades of white. 
Draco turned from his explorations to see Harry staring at him expectantly with
wide, anxious eyes. The orange sweatshirt hung past the boy's knees and fell
off the shoulders, but the sleeves were tied around his neck to hold it on and
keep him warmer. It looked like a strange, dirty dress. Draco focused on the
boy's feelings and was awash in a wild mix of - fear guilt hunger pain.He
sighed and took the boy's face in his hands. He gently kissed those soft lips. 
Harry whimpered and clung to Draco's sweatshirt, his mouth opening in need.
Draco laved his mouth with his tongue, slowly licking and sucking until the
swirl of the boy's emotions stilled with simple - pleasure love. Draco pulled
away. 
Smiling as he thumbed Harry's swollen red lips, he used his other hand to turn
on the water. “We're gonna take a bath together and it's gonna feel good,” he
said, hoping to reassure the boy.
Massive - guilt anxiety - swirled up through Harry once more, and Draco began
to suspect what the guilt stood for. He was instantly furious, though not at
Harry. He hated whoever did this to his sweet boy. 
Being in the Hold was like a whole different world, but now that they were in a
house-like place, it brought back everything Harry had been taught. 
And Draco could imagine what those people who convinced Harry his name was
Freak had taught the boy to think. Things like: Freaks don't eat, don't get a
bath, don't get to be human. Harry said he could cook, so Freaks probably did
all the cooking and cleaning, too. Well, Draco wouldn't stand for it!
Calmly, with all the rage trapped inside so Harry wouldn't see it, he fisted
the boy's hair hard enough to capture Harry's complete attention and stared
into those anxious green eyes, hoping to impress how serious he was. “You're
not Freak anymore. Remember? You're Harry. You're mine.”
- relief pain sorrow hope love - “Yes, Draco,” Harry answered in a whisper,
tears falling from his eyes.
Draco touched Harry's lips once more. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I'm yours,” Harry repeated, a surge of - gratitude - followed, but Draco knew
it hadn't really sunk in. 
He released Harry and focused on the bath. He made it warm and stopped the
drain. Then he stripped out of the sweatshirt and turned to Harry and stripped
him naked. The boy was shorter than him and skinnier. Draco would have to be
very mindful to make sure Harry ate enough, especially since it seemed healing
took all the extra weight Harry had. 
They climbed into the tub together and Harry actually gasped in surprise as he
sank up to his chest in the warm water probably for the first time in his life.
His eyes were huge in his head and his emotions cut at Draco. They were a storm
so tangled that Draco couldn't tell one thing from the next. 
Eyes half-lidded, Draco had a suddenly brilliant idea. * Can I have your hand?
* he asked straight into Harry's mind.
Harry instantly lifted his right hand and gave it to Draco. Draco smiled at him
sweetly. He let the boy hold his hand there, reaching for Draco, as he soaped
the washrag that had been sitting on the shelf. Then he gently took the small
hand and began to wash all the dirt, dried sweat, and grime that had
accumulated on it. 
He washed every finger, every nail. He made sure to drag it softly over every
inch of skin until he could feel Harry's anxiety turn into pleasure. Then, just
when Harry felt relaxed and calm, he pinned the boy with an intense look. 
* That's mine now. My skin. My fingers. My hand. You gave it to me. *
Harry felt like Draco was putting a spell on him. He sat in the warm water,
feeling light and good, feelings he wasn't allowed to feel, which made him feel
bad. But Draco's eyes were silver. They burned inside him, and Draco's voice
rang inside his head. 
* Can I have your arm? * Draco asked, again choosing to speak deep in Harry's
mind.
Flushed and wide-eyed, Harry held out his arm. 
Draco washed it gently and carefully. When it was clean, he stared into Harry's
eyes. * Your arm is mine now. Not yours. *
Harry gasped and began to tremble, hardly able to comprehend Draco - wanting -
anything of his.
Draco asked for every part of his body. His other hand and arm, shoulders, and
neck. He asked for Harry's chest, his stomach, back, hips. Harry gave him
everything. His privates, his butt, his legs, his feet. Harry gave them over.
* Can I have your lips and cheeks? * Draco asked at last.
“Yes! Yes, Draco,” Harry rasped. Giving it all away was the most amazing thing
he'd ever done. It felt like flying, like freedom.
Draco ran the cloth softly over Harry's mouth and chin and cheeks. Then Draco
cupped his hands and let the semi-clean water wash the soap away. Harry closed
his eyes in painful anticipation for the next part.
* They're mine now. You gave them to me. *
Harry whimpered, his relief so powerful that he was sobbing now. He was almost
all Draco's. 
* Can I have your eyes and ears? *
“Yes, Draco. Please,” Harry practically begged.
Draco ran the cloth over Harry's eyes and around his ears, and then he slowly
rinsed the soap off. Harry held his breath and waited for it. * Your eyes are
mine. Your ears are mine. You gave them to me. *
His heart raced and he couldn't catch his breath. His whole body tingled and
shivered, the anticipation almost painful. All Harry had left was his hair and
he didn't even let Draco ask for it, he was so desperate for all of himself to
be Draco's. 
“It's yours! I give it to you,” he said breathlessly, bowing his head, giving
Draco everything. 
Draco soaped his hair and scratched at Harry's scalp. Harry shivered, shocked
at the little zips of pleasure. He practically melted into Draco's hands, and
Draco had to prop him up so he didn't sink into the water. It went on for a
long time and Harry felt everything disappear except for Draco and peace.
* Will you give me your life? *
Harry lifted his head and stared into shining silver. Draco's cheeks were red
and he was breathing a little quickly. Harry knew he was making Draco feel good
and that was such a happy thought that Harry wiggled.
“Yes, Draco. I'm yours,” he answered with a burst of joy love trust singing in
his heart.
Draco reached forward and slowly pushed him backwards so that Harry had to
scoot his butt toward Draco in the tub and let his legs wrap around the blond's
waist. Draco kept pushing until the boy was under the water. 
* You gave me everything, Harry. You're mine now. You're a part of me and I
love you. I promise to take care of you, and I'm going to make you happy,
Harry. *
Harry stared up at the surface, entranced by Draco's rippling face looming over
him on the other side of the water. He felt calm, at peace. His heartbeat
slowed, his vision clouded at the edges. Draco was watching him – always
watching him. Draco wanted him when no one else did. Draco promised to love and
take care of him. It was all he ever wanted. 
All those years of dreaming and wanting with everything he had, it was finally
true. He finally had someone to truly belong to. And as Harry's lungs began to
burn, all the voices – Uncle's, Aunt's, Dudley's – they slowly went dark. Harry
no longer belonged to them. He was Draco's completely.
Draco was amazing. He was perfect. Nothing of Draco's could be dirty, so Harry
couldn't be dirty. He was new. He was clean. His body jerked; his lungs spasmed
and water poured in. Even as his vision began to go black, Harry lay still in
Draco's hands, pinned by those commanding grey eyes. 
Harry's powerful acceptance and submission almost overwhelmed Draco. No one had
ever gone so far for Draco or trusted him so much. He'd been alone for so long,
but Harry was here, in his hands, giving himself to Draco wholly and
completely. It bonded them closer than family.  
Draco panted hard and fast, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his
shoulders as he leaned over his boy, pressing him down under the water. Harry
truly gave over his life, not fighting at all even as he began to spasm and
pass out, and Draco felt such powerful love, he almost couldn't bare it. 
Finally yanking Harry up out of the water, Draco ordered him sharply to
breathe. Harry gasped and choked and coughed up water, and Draco carefully
rubbed Harry's back and let him hang over the side until he caught his breath. 
* Love you love you love you, * he chanted in Harry's mind.
A wave of - love happy peace - radiated back at him.
Draco pressed himself to Harry's back and kissed at his jaw and neck. He never
wanted to let go of his Harry. He wanted to keep him safe and warm right here
in the bath. Harry was pliant in his arms, filled with dizzy pleasure, tilting
his head so Draco had more access. 
Harry went limp, dizzy and euphoric as Draco's lips pressed into his skin in
little butterfly kisses. He felt safe and loved. In his cupboard, he'd dreamed
of his parents coming back for him, dreamed for so long, and it felt just like
this. He was floating and warm, air sweet in his lungs as he stared dreamily
up, hair hanging wet around his face. He was Draco's.
Draco licked and sucked and kissed. His hands reached forward and rubbed gently
at Harry's nipples, and Harry's head fell back on Draco's shoulder, a moan of
pure pleasure escaping his lips. Draco nipped at his ear and pulled away. He
could smell food, and as much as he wished they could stay here forever, Draco
had promised to take care of Harry.
“Help me wash,” he ordered. “I think dinner's here.”
Harry turned with such a happy look that Draco gave a shy smile. With great
enthusiasm, Harry washed Draco. He made sure every inch was clean, and he was
so excited to do it that Draco felt his whole body tingle. He still wasn't used
to anyone genuinely caring about him. It was why he fell in love with the boy
in the first place.
After everything was washed, Draco rinsed his hair himself and came out of the
water with a laugh. He just felt so damn light and happy, Harry's emotions
singing along inside him, making him fly. He practically glomped Harry,
catching the little boy in the corner of the tub. Draco attacked his mouth,
kissing him soundly and deeply, and Harry flung his little arms around his neck
holding on tightly.
* Mine, * Draco practically growled in the boy's head. 
- joy relief love pleasurepleasurepleasure -
Draco had to pull himself away before he let things build to that peak of pure
ecstasy that Harry had introduced him to. 
Grinning, he stood and stepped out of the bath. He grabbed a towel and held it
out for Harry. The boy went into it with a happy giggle, practically rubbing
himself all over the fluffy cloth. Draco laughed and tried to dry the wiggling
boy as much as possible. Once Harry was mostly dry, he did a quick rub down
himself, wrapped them both up, and stepped outside.
The apartment smelled delicious, salty and sweet at the same time. They found
Brendon sitting on a big pillow on the floor, a plate on the low coffee-table
in front of him. The tv was on and a show was playing with group laughter
echoing in the background. Two plates were sitting next to him and two more
pillows were on the floor. 
Draco hurried Harry to the table.
Brendon flashed them a smile. “It's not hot, but it's still good.”
Draco took the seat next to the man, putting Harry on the outside where it was
safest. Harry was staring at one of the cartons that looked to hold slimy-
looking food. Draco tasted a bite of everything before letting Harry eat. It
was weird, some of it was tangy, some salty, some sweet, but it was food and
they were starving. It was gone in minutes. 
Draco eyed the containers at the center of the table, Brendon's leftovers. 
Brendon caught him looking and pushed them over. “I'm done. I'm going to go
down to the club for a bit. I put some clothes on the bed in your room. We'll
talk details tomorrow.” He stood and stretched before heading toward the door. 
Draco watched him go. He didn't relax until he heard the door lock, then turned
back to the food and pushed it at Harry. “Eat as much as ya can.”
Harry nodded and happily scooped out more rice and veggies. “Yes, Draco.”
Draco stroked his damp hair. “Good boy.”
- happy pride love -
As Harry ate, Draco leaned his back against the couch and just let the moment
sink in. He was out of the Hold, Harry was with him, and they were in a warm
apartment with full bellies. They had a room and a bathroom. Things were good.
Finally, all the food was gone and Harry pressed against his side in sleepy
contentment. Draco smiled at the boy and stood, pulling Harry to his feet. They
walked silently down the hall and to the bedroom Brendon had said was theirs.
The tv was left on behind them to chatter. 
The bedroom door was heavy and had a lock on the inside to keep people out. It
swung open to reveal a room done in blues and greens. The floor was wooden with
sea green rugs. The large bed sat a little to the side and had a fluffy
sapphire comforter with sheets and pillows a darker blue. The headboard was
made of wood and was carved in intricate swirls. Jadedly, Draco thought it
would be perfect for tying someone to the bed.
There was a nightstand next to the bed painted a soft, sage green. A big brass
lamp sat there and filled the room with soft clear light. The only other two
pieces of furniture were a big ornate, wooden armoire that had forest green
leaves and vines painted all across it and a small bookcase, which was painted
to match perfectly. Even the books – all hard cover – had bindings in shades of
blue and green. 
The curtains that hung open around the single window were a dark emerald green,
only a few shades darker than Harry's eyes. Draco let the door shut behind them
and locked it before moving to look outside. Harry stood at his shoulder and
looked with him down into the street. The crazy party-goers were still bunched
up close to the building. Some were leaving the club, some were still trying to
get in. 
Draco unhooked the curtains and let them fall closed. He took Harry's hand and
pulled him toward the bed. It was glorious. The comforter was velvet and
stuffed with something soft, and the sheets were a cotton/silk blend. Draco
smiled as Harry laughed in delight and spread his arms and legs, dragging them
slowly across the softness. 
- joy love pleasure – broke over Draco like a sunrise. 
Breath catching in his throat, Draco felt his lips begin to tremble and he
covered his face in surprise as sobs rose from deep in his gut. Harry sat up
with wide eyes – worry love – and touched Draco's face with gentle fingertips. 
“Draco. Love you, Draco. Love you,” Harry whispered – lovelovelovelovelove.
Draco pulled him close and curled around the smaller boy. He shook and trembled
and wept deep wracking sobs. Harry stroked his arms and shoulders, everywhere
he could reach while Draco held him so desperately. 
After several moments, Draco dragged himself back under control, still not sure
what had come over him. He wiped at his face roughly and uncurled. With gentle
hands on Draco's face, Harry lifted Draco's head and met his eyes. Draco's
breath caught at the adoring look. 
“Please, Draco,” Harry whispered, barely audible. His fingers brushed Draco's
bruised cheek and busted lip. “Please,” he begged, holding Draco's gaze.
Draco dipped his chin, giving permission, and this time it was Harry pressing
him back. Draco lay on the soft sheets, his head cradled by a soft pillow with
tears still slowly falling. Harry lay on his chest, their legs entwinning. The
boy sighed,pleasure love –rising up as Harry brought his mouth to Draco's
skin. 
Eyes fluttering closed, Draco lay limp, just letting Harry take care of him as
the boy began to lick ever so softly over his lips. Little swipes that tickled
and tingled. Their sighs mingled, slightly damp and oh so warm. Then Harry
moved to his cheek, sucking softly over the bruise, but it didn't hurt. It felt
so good that Draco gave a long, low moan. He slid his hand up Harry's back and
into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
Harry arched like a cat, his mouth coming away from Draco. Eyes heavy-lidded,
he stared down at Draco. The bruises were gone. His lips were perfect and
whole, his cheeks flushed only with a blush of pleasure, and Harry knew in that
moment that he'd never do anything more important in his whole life than heal
Draco. 
Heart singing as Draco moaned and gasped, crystal tears still shimmering on his
cheeks, Harry slid down to latch onto Draco's tender shoulder where the bullet
scar was. Draco arched, his hand now pressing Harry more firmly against him.
Harry sucked hard.
Draco's eyes flew open and he gave a long cry. “Harry... yes, oooh...” he
moaned, head tossing as waves of hot pleasure built higher and higher. 
Harry hummed into Draco's skin. He pressed his tongue flat to the mark and
sucked. Every gasp and moan Draco gave set Harry's blood on fire. Down in his
gut, his nipples, even his toes, Harry was on fire. The heat poured out from
his mouth and into Draco's shoulder, and Harry let it flow out of him, all of
it. It was Draco's. All of him was Draco's.
Draco felt himself rush over the edge of pleasure and screamed as his whole
body tensed in ecstasy. Harry echoed his cry but softer. When Draco could see
again, he stared up at his boy. Harry was straddling Draco's waist, panting
with swollen lips and fluffy hair. He was so beautiful, and Draco offered him a
blissed out smile as he lay limp and tingling in the aftermath.
Harry slid down Draco's body, his fingers brushing the boy's skin. They skimmed
over the pink nipples, along the ribs, across the stomach. He wanted to touch
every inch, wanted to taste it. He ducked low and let his lips ever so softly
drag along the path his fingers blazed. Draco made the most amazing sound,
almost like a purr. 
Harry continued down over the thighs and knees, down the shins. His fingers
caught on torn skin and he sat up quickly. Draco's feet were torn and weeping
in some places. Carefully, heart pounding, Harry lifted Draco's leg and brought
his mouth to the sole of Draco's foot. He lapped at the sensitive skin there,
dragging his tongue across the rips and tears.
Draco bunched his hands in the sheets and arched with a gasp as Harry's little
tongue slid between his toes. Green eyes impossibly bright, Harry opened his
mouth wide and took all five tiny toes into his mouth. Draco stared, heart
thumping, hardly breathing, as Harry's lips stretched tight and his boy made
little bobbing motions that went right to Draco's core.  
Harry sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing.
“Harry!” Draco cried, skin beginning to sizzle again.
Harry hummed and Draco nearly lost it. 
“Shit!” Draco shoved his hand into his mouth and bit down, choking back
screams.
Harry licked and sucked and scrapped his teeth along every toe. He let his
tongue wiggle between them; other times pressing his tongue flat as he sucked
hard. Draco was writhing on the sheets by the time Harry started in on the
other foot. Draco felt the wave of blinding pleasure wash through him a second
time and he was lost. 
It went on and on, Harry's tongue and lips keeping him on that crest for an
eternity. He was barely conscious by the time he felt Harry crawl up next to
him. Draco turned on his side and flung an arm over the boy. Harry murmured
something sweet, and Draco sat up just long enough to pull the comforter over
them both. Almost instantly they tumbled into a deep, healing sleep wrapped
tightly in each others arms.
Chapter end.
 
Please leave me comments!!
***** Settling In *****
                                  Settling_In
Draco woke and sat bolt upright, looking to make sure the cargo were all in
their places. Seeing blues and greens instead, his heart kicked hard in has
chest. Feeling a little shaky, he turned and saw Harry curled into a tight ball
next to him on the bed. Harry's lips were parted slightly as he breathed slow
and deep. His long, dark lashes rested on his pale cheeks soft as a butterfly's
wing.
Draco smiled and lay on his side, facing his boy. Ever so gently he ran his
fingertip down the bridge of Harry's nose and over the parted lips. Slowly
Harry woke and blinked sleepy green eyes. - happy peace love – spilled into
Draco's mind, making him smile wider.
“Good morning, Harry,” he said softly.
Harry smiled a sweet smile and moved closer, their foreheads now touching.
“Morning, Draco.” - anticipation want.
Draco smiled back and granted Harry's wish; he lifted the boy's chin and
pressed their lips together.
The kiss was slow and gentle, lasting several breaths. Softly, Draco pressed
Harry back until he was flat and Draco could kiss him more thoroughly. Heat
snaked between them, looping as Draco's pleasure fed on Harry's.
Harry began making needy little noises deep in his throat. Draco, tonguing the
boy's mouth further open, shoved the blanket down to bunch around their waists
and thumbed gentle circles over Harry's nipple. The little boy arched into the
touch and sucked hungrily on Draco's tongue.
Draco broke the kiss, panting for air. Lifting his hand, he pressed two fingers
into that willing mouth. Harry opened for him, bright-eyed and flushed. He
sucked and licked, wetting the digits thoroughly.
“Good boy,” Draco whispered. He dipped his head until his mouth was near the
boy's ear, his lips brushing his cheek. “I want them to heal you, Harry. I want
to see that you're mine. Are you mine, Harry?”
- need pleasure submission -
Draco felt his fingers warm and tingle, and he knew Harry's power was working.
He let the tension build, let Harry keep sucking and licking until his chin was
wet and his lips were swollen. Then he pulled them free with a wet pop and sat
up to lift Harry's foot. He skimmed his damp fingers over the torn skin and
watched in awe as the healing began.
“Such a good boy,” he all but purred as Harry squirmed – joy embarrassment love
-
As Draco continued to stroke the bottom of his feet in soft little swipes,
Harry began to giggle. Draco grinned up at him, love shinning in his silvered
eyes. Moving up, he pushed his fingers back into Harry's mouth. He rubbed at
the soft tongue, sliding his fingers in and out until they were wet.
The bottom of Harry's other foot was next. Draco slipped off the end of the bed
so he could see both feet more clearly. Harry laughed and clung to the sheets,
twisting his upper body as Draco tickled his arch. Draco smiled but firmed his
grip to keep the boy's lower half still. He wanted to make sure every cut was
gone.
Once he was satisfied that Harry was healed, Draco laughed and pulled the boy
toward him with a sharp tug on both ankles. Harry's legs went around his waist,
and Draco bent forward until he was folded in half, their chests pressing
warmly together. He let his fingers tangle in Harry's wild hair as he kissed
him breathless.
Eventually, Draco pulled away just far enough to easily look into those
gorgeous green eyes. “Ready for breakfast?” he asked breathlessly, cheeks
flushed and smiling wide.
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered happily. He swung his arms around Draco's
shoulders and neck, holding on to him and never wanting to let go.
Draco grinned and pulled Harry up. He found white t-shirts in the armoire. They
had to be Brendon's, but at least they would be covered. Harry was bouncing on
his toes, smiling as he let Draco pull the shirt on over his head. Clasping
Harry's hand in his own, Draco unlocked the door and led the way to the
kitchen.
The apartment was quiet. The tv was off. There was no sign of Brendon, but the
man's bedroom door was shut, so there was no telling if he were there or not.
Getting an idea, Draco glanced toward the bowl by the door and saw Brendon's
ring of keys sitting there. So he must be in the bedroom after all.
Draco shifted his shoulders as he confirmed they weren't alone and tugged Harry
into the white, grey, and red galley kitchen. “Do your thing,” he said, smiling
as he released Harry's hand. He leaned his shoulder against the wall with his
arms crossed over his chest.
Harry crouched and began opening cupboards, exploring. “What do you like?” he
eventually asked, standing on his tip-toes, head half in the refrigerator.
“Everything,” Draco answered with a shrug.
Harry took out a carton of eggs, butter, milk, some green onions and tomatoes.
A meat drawer contained a package of bacon. He also found a can of baked beans.
Slices of bread went into the toaster. The oven was turned on to warm. (Draco
had to bring over a stool so Harry could reach everything.)
Draco was really impressed. Harry moved with a confidence he had never seen in
the boy before. Soon enough the kitchen began to smell delicious. Draco's
stomach rumbled, but it was Harry he watched. He couldn't take his eyes off the
boy. The way his small hands moved so efficiently. The way he sniffed the air
above the cooking food. The way he multitasked, having several things going at
once. It was like a dance. Draco felt like he could watch Harry forever.
“What's cooking?”
Draco turned to see Brendon in a white shirt and black sweatpants had appeared
on the other side of the island counter. The man sat on one of the stools and
leaned his body across the countertop, yawning. His brown hair was ruffled
around his head and face. He seemed barely conscious.
“Any way I can get coffee?”
Draco glanced at Harry. The boy kept his back toward Brendon, not acknowledging
his presence at all. Draco remembered his order that Harry wasn't to talk to
the man and smiled, warmed all the way through that he had remembered. Draco
looked back toward Brendon to see the man's sleepy eyes on him. They never once
fell on Harry, at least not that Draco could tell.
Something tense deep in Draco's gut began to relax. * Can you make coffee,
Harry? *he asked and received a head bob. Draco resumed his relaxed lean
against the wall and answered Brendon. “Yeah. You'll get coffee.”
Harry worked more of his magic, and in a few minutes, a steaming plate of
breakfast was handed to him along with a mug of coffee. Draco slid both toward
Brendon and accepted a second and third plate from Harry, who was grinning at
him – happy proud.
Draco took the plates and went around the counter so they could sit on the
stools. He took the middle seat, putting Harry on the outside furthest from
Brendon once more.
“This is great,” Brendon said, sitting up and more alert. He spoke to Draco
only. “Very British, though.”
“Thanks,” Draco answered, taking a big bite of beans. The flavor hit his tongue
and he smiled. He shot Harry a look only to see those deep green eyes watching
him already. * It's delicious! Good job. You're being such a good boy. *
- joy excitement happy peace -Harry practically fell off his stool he was
wiggling so much and Draco felt near to bursting with the powerful emotions
Harry was feeling.
“Eat,” Draco ordered, smiling, and tapped Harry's plate with his fork.
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered and dug in.
Draco turned toward his other side. “What's the plan? Do I need'ta clean
today?”
“Yep.” Brendon took a long sip of his coffee. “I'll show you around after
breakfast. While you do that, I'll pick up a few clothes for you.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “And what do ya want for that?”
Brendon didn't answer for a long moment. He took a few bites of eggs and toast.
Blue eyes glanced over to hold Draco's. “Well, I was thinking of keeping a
tally until you can figure out how to pay me back.”
Draco ate his tomato thoughtfully. It wasn't like he had many options. They
needed clothes if they didn't want to be trapped in the apartment. And he still
had to see how involved his cleaning duties would be. For now, he wasn't in a
position to negotiate, so he merely nodded to Brendon's suggestion. He would
pay him back as quickly as possible. The thought of owing anyone anything set
his teeth on edge. Worse was the thought that he couldn't take care of Harry on
his own. That thought actually turned his stomach with hot anger.
They ate silently after that. Draco kept an eye on Harry, but the boy ate
everything, his little legs kicking softly as he cleaned his plate. Draco
finished his own and said nothing as Harry quickly grabbed the dirty plate.
Draco snagged Brendon's and passed that over to the happily determined boy.
Harry took them with a bright smile for Draco and gathered all the dishes he'd
used while cooking. He set them in neat piles, pushed the stool to the sink,
and turned the hot water on.
Draco folded his arms on the counter and let his chin rest on them, just
watching Harry move. The boy had to kneel on the stool to have the right
leverage, and when he had particularly hard spots to clean, his little tongue
would stick out of the corner of his mouth. Harry worked quickly and soon
enough all the dishes were done and set aside to dry.
Wiping his hands on the towel, Harry jumped off the stool and carried it back
around to sit at the counter. Draco ruffled the boy's messy hair and pulled him
into a loose embrace. Harry melted against him, rubbing his cheek slowly
against Draco's shirt over his chest.
Brendon appeared, fully dressed, hair combed. He flashed Draco a smile, still
not dipping his eyes to Harry. “Ready?”
Draco found himself smiling back. He gave Harry a quick, tight hug and jumped
off the stool. He took the boy's hand. “Yep.”
                                      xxx
Harry followed behind Draco as they left the apartment and went downstairs. The
metal door that led to the street was directly at the bottom, but they turned
down a very narrow hallway and turned again so they were under the stairs that
led to the apartment. Now they were at the top of another staircase.
Draco's hand tightened around his a little bit, and Harry knew he was thinking
about the Hold. Harry felt a burst of love for the blond who had claimed him,
saved him, and Draco looked back over his shoulder, hard eyes softening just a
little as they met his gaze. Harry smiled at him and then Draco was facing
forward.
Once they reached the bottom, it was too dark to see until the man flipped a
switch. Harry's eyes went wide as a large room with deep red walls, black tiled
floors, and crazy furniture was revealed.
At the center of the room was a small black stage. A few couches with love
seats and stools were arranged around it. Along the walls were big wooden X's
with black straps. Weird benches and chairs all made of black leather. There
were silver chains with black cuffs hanging from the walls. A glass counter at
to the right near the entrance - the kind where jewelery was usually displayed
in stores - but inside were whips and paddles and other things Harry had no
name for.
“This is the exhibition room,” Brendon was saying to Draco. “The door over
there leads to the bathroom.”
Harry only paid half-attention. He was too busy looking at all the weird stuff.
Draco would tell him if he needed to know anything. He glanced upward and then
kept looking up. There were pipes that ran every which way across the ceiling.
It looked like swings and ropes were up there. It wasn't very high, but he
didn't think the man could reach without a ladder.
A pull on his hand had Harry looking forward again. Draco was leading him
through a secret door in the wall behind the glass display cases. As they were
passing, Harry caught sight of a chair and cash register. They were taken down
a hallway that was lined with doors like a hotel. The doors even had numbers on
them; one through five. Brendon opened each door as they passed them and Harry
stared in wonderment.
One: The room was filled with gold and red silk drapes, making it look like the
inside of a tent. A large golden throne with a red pillow at against the far
back wall. The whole room smelled like herbs, and there was a refrigerator
hidden to the side with fruit and juice. Speakers played weird flute music.
Two: It had a tiled floor and matching tiled walls. There was a metal table-
bed, metal cabinets, metal trays that rolled. There were all kinds of stuff in
there from rubber gloves and tubing, to weird bags and all kinds of sharp
knives. It was cold in there and lit with bright white light.
Three had a few small desks in rows. At the front of the room sat a big desk
with a blackboard behind it and a rollie-chair. There were cubbies against a
wall with shoes and papers and books. There was a globe sitting on a shelf. On
the teacher's desk was a ruler and some chalk.
Four had a cage large enough for a man in the corner. Next to the cage, there
was a desk and chair with the only light hanging above it. There were handcuffs
on the wall with blindfolds, whips, and floggers.
Five: There was a couch and a big tv in one corner. Two dishes were on the
floor. There were leashes and collars. Chew toys and jingly balls. A small
pillow bed and grooming supplies. Along the wall were all different types of
ears and tails.
There was a sixth door that was not numbered. It was the cleaning supply
closet. It was huge, almost the size of their bedroom upstairs and stocked full
of towels, rags, toilet paper, paper towels, gloves, trash bags, chemicals, and
mops with buckets. (As big as it was, it was only a quarter the size of the
themed rooms.)
Harry stared at Draco's hand on his as Brendon explained that all of the
furniture had to be wiped – each surface type had it's own chemicals (leather,
glass, tile, rubber/plastic, wood). The floor had to be mopped and the walls
scrubbed, including the bathroom. Usually the exhibition room was used three
nights a week. The play rooms were rented out when requested about two to three
times a month. It was going to be a big job.
“I need the exhibition room and bathroom cleaned for now,” the man was saying.
“You have about six more hours until the party starts. I don't have any rooms
rented so far, but if someone wants to use one, then you'll have to clean that
tomorrow along with the exhibition room and bathroom again.”
Draco nodded his head, saying nothing. Harry stared at him, willing him to feel
his eagerness to help. He knew how to clean and cook. Even his before-family
had thought he did well at that. He could be useful to Draco. He needed to be
useful.
“I'll leave you to it, then,” Brendon said with a smile. “I'm going out. I'll
come back with some clothes. I'm locking you down here until I get back. I'll
have a set of keys made while I'm out, so you will be able to come and go as
you please.”
Again Draco nodded.
“I'll be back in a few hours. The ventilation is really good in here, so the
fumes won't hurt you, but you should probably wear a mask and gloves.” That
being said the man tossed a wave and left them to their work.
“I can clean, Draco,” Harry burst out as soon as the man was no longer in the
hallway.
Draco flashed him a smile and ruffled his hair. Harry ducked his head happily.
He loved that Draco touched him. His before-family never did that unless it was
to hurt him for being really bad, otherwise they hated to touch his dirty skin.
Harry shook that thought off hard. He wasn't dirty now that he was Draco's.
“Good,” Draco said, pulling Harry from his anxious thoughts. “We'll get this
done in no time, then. Show me what to do with this stuff.”
Harry smiled and got the cleaning supplies loaded on the rollie-cart. He
explained what each one did. He couldn't read, but he knew the colors and
smells well enough. Plus, a lot of the bottles had pictures. He grabbed some
sponges, towels, rags, and paper towels. He explained why he used different
things for different jobs. Draco listened to everything he said. Harry felt
full to bursting with pride that he could help Draco.
It was slow going at first, Draco working right next to him as he learned how
to clean. But once Draco got the hang of the work, they spread out and were
able to cover more area at a faster pace. Their shirts stuck to their skin as
they began to sweat. Their hands and wrists hurt from scrubbing. Harry's arms
burned from forcing the mop, which was too big for him, across the floor.
They finished the exhibition room and were heading toward the bathroom when
Harry asked, “What's all this stuff for?”
Draco froze and Harry nearly ran into the back of him. Draco turned and pulled
Harry into his chest. “This's where people play with toys,” he said harshly
above his head. Then he pushed Harry back and glared hotly into his eyes.
Harry's heart sped up in fear. Was Draco mad at him?
Before he could get too worked up, Draco shook him a little, making him focus.
His eyes were silver and pierced right through him. “You're never to come down
here without me. Never, Harry,” he demanded, voice cold and hard, hands holding
Harry too tightly.
“Yes, Draco!” Harry promised, heart pounding. “I'll never come, promise!”
Draco stared a minute longer and Harry held his breath. Then Draco relaxed and
gave a small smile. He ruffled Harry's hair, saying, “Good boy.”
Harry nearly went limp in relief.
As he watched Draco push the cart into the bathroom, he realized he never
wanted Draco to have that look again. It was like Draco was far away, but at
the same time burned as if he'd been stripped of everything but fire. It scared
him, and he realized Draco had looked like that a lot in the Hold. He liked
this Draco better; the Draco who smiled and laughed and let himself relax.
Harry swore to himself he'd never break that promise. Draco was counting on
him.
The bathroom was big. There were six identical black sinks with mirrors
surrounded by round fogged light bulbs. Along the far wall were six deep red
urinals, and along the wall opposite the sinks were six black stalls. There
were red flowers set here and there as decoration. Harry touched one and
discovered it was fake.
The door behind him opened and Brendon stepped in. He had two large white bags
in his hands. Draco appeared at Harry's side, and Harry felt warm at the
thought of Draco ready to protect him.
“Good job with the exhibition room,” Brendon told Draco with a grin. He lifted
the bags slightly. “Got the clothes. Why don't you come up, eat some lunch, and
check it all out. You have three hours before the party starts. The bathroom
should take you about an hour to clean, right?”
“Sure,” Draco answered and reached back without looking. Harry immediately
placed his hand in Draco's grip.
Up out of the basement and up the apartment stairs and then they were in the
apartment. Harry blinked at the bright light, not realizing how much darker the
exhibition room had been. He immediately went to the kitchen to put together
lunch while Draco stayed with the man and looked at their clothes.
Harry pulled down the bread, cheese, meats, and salad makings. As he built the
sandwiches and prepared the frying pan to brown them, he itched idly at his
knees and thighs where chemicals had splashed and irritated his skin.
In less then fifteen minutes, he had three grilled sandwiches and small salads
made. He carried the first pair over to the coffee table. Clothes were flung
along the couch, and Draco was just pulling on some blue jeans. He smiled as
Harry offered him the food. Draco took it and leaned forward, giving Harry a
kiss.
Harry gasped in surprise, flushing warm as Draco's tongue pressed on his. Draco
pulled away with a grin. Harry, breathless and smiling, hurried to get the next
sandwich and salad. He gave it to Draco, who passed it to Brendon, and then he
went and got large glasses of water. He gave the two drinks to Draco. Then he
could get his own food and drink.
He hurried back and settled next to Draco who sat between him and Brendon
again. The tv was on and the man was laughing at something the people were
saying. Sighing happily, Harry leaned against Draco and ate his sandwich in
hungry bites.
“If we hurry, the sun will still be up when we finish the bathroom,” Draco told
him. His arm was wrapped behind Harry's back and he softly rubbed small circles
into Harry's arm.
Harry practically melted against Draco's side. “Okay, Draco,” he murmured. He
wanted to do whatever made Draco happy.
Draco kissed his head and finished off his salad. Harry hurried to do the same,
drinking down the large glass of water. Brendon had already left them, going
back into his office to work.
“Wash the dishes later. Come on,” he ordered and pulled Harry to his feet.
Draco told him to get in some jeans as well as socks and sneakers. Draco pulled
on shoes, too. “Grab our jackets. We'll need 'em when we go to the park.”
Harry nodded and did as he was told. Draco put some keys in his pocket and then
they were racing down to the exhibition room's bathroom. They cleaned as fast
as they could, making sure to miss nothing. This was the price of staying with
Brendon, and Harry wasn't about to mess that up.
Once they were finished, Draco practically ran to put all the supplies back in
the closet. Draco carefully locked the basement door, then the metal door
behind them when they stepped out onto the street. Draco let out a loud laugh,
grabbed Harry's hand, and then they were racing. The sun was beginning to set.
The sky was beginning to go gold. There were people going in and out of stores.
Cars drove by and some parked at the curb.
They ran passed it all; their sneakered feet hitting the sidewalk in a
pattering rhythm. Harry smiled happily as Draco continued to laugh. They turned
a corner, raced down the block and came to a small square of grass, two trees,
a bench, and yellow monkey bars.
Breathing hard, Harry looked around in excitement. He'd never been outside
before, not like this. Aunt would let him work in the yard, but he never went
farther than that. It was all so big, loud, and amazing.
Draco laughed again and pulled Harry over to the bars. “Come on!”
Harry watched as the blond climbed the ladder and grabbed hold of the bars that
went along the top. He swung across and made monkey sounds. Harry clapped and
laughed. Draco flashed him a grin that lit up the whole world.
“Well?” Draco called from the other side. “Gonna try 'em?”
Harry felt his heart leap. Draco wanted him to play, too! He quickly scrambled
up the ladder and had to stand on tiptoe to grab the first bar. Heart thumping
happily, he narrowed his eyes at the other bar and reached for it. He missed
and quickly grabbed back onto the first bar with both hands before he fell.
But Draco was there right away, standing on the ground and holding his waist.
Harry felt a burst of love and knew Draco felt it by the way Draco's fingers
stroked his stomach in warm circles. “You gotta swing a little. Like this.”
Harry trusted his body to Draco and let the blond show him how to swing and
catch the next bar and then the next. He laughed and flung his arms around the
blond when he reached the other side. “Thank you, Draco! Love you so much!”
Draco smoothed his hand over his hair. “Let's race.”
Harry laughed and climbed again. They both grabbed the first bar and Draco
called, “Go!” They swung and laughed and made monkey noises until it was dark
and their hands were blistered and raw. A street lamp flickered and illuminated
the little playground. Their breath came out in large white clouds as they
laughed.
Breathless and happy, Harry followed Draco to the bench. The blond sat on it
heavily, panting. Harry knelt on the ground between Draco's knees and lay his
head on Draco's thigh. He closed his eyes in bliss as Draco pet his hair.
Slowly their breathing slowed. Harry opened his eyes to see Draco's free hand
resting palm up on his knee. He gently touched the sores there and gazed up at
Draco imploringly. Draco gave him a nod, his eyes silver as he watched.
Harry shivered, enjoying Draco's eyes on him, and licked a long swipe across
Draco's palm. Draco's breath hitched, and Harry practically purred as he gently
gripped Draco's wrist, holding the hand still. He gave Draco's palm long, slow
licks and gentle kisses before taking each finger into his mouth one by one.
He twirled his tongue around the fingers, eyes cast upward to watch Draco's
face as it flushed a soft red. Harry tasted metal, dirt, and sweat. Sucking
softly, he bobbed his head as he worked his mouth up and down. Draco was
breathing deeply now, his thighs squeezing Harry firmly. Harry came off Draco's
thumb with a quiet pop and reached for his other hand. Draco moaned as Harry
began to lick and suck the torn skin there.
Harry felt the pressure build, felt how Draco was arching up against him. The
cold air bathed their damp faces and Harry took two fingers into his mouth and
sucked hard. He held his breath and bobbed his head faster, sucking as hard as
he could until Draco gave that wild cry he sometimes gave when Harry healed him
before going limp and soft.
Happy and warm, Harry lay his head on Draco's thigh and waited.
After a few minutes, Draco's harsh panting quieted and he began to pet Harry's
hair again. “Your turn, Harry,” Draco whispered and Harry looked up to see
Draco watching him intently.
Harry blushed and settled back on his knees. Holding Draco's hot gaze, he
brought his own hand to his mouth. He gave quick darting licks to the sores
there. Draco – silver eyes half-lidded – continued to watch. Harry began to
pant, feeling like Draco was holding him under the water, holding him safe. He
couldn't catch his breath.
“Fingers now, like ya did mine,” Draco said gently, voice low. “Because they're
mine, right Harry? And you're gonna treat them just the same.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry gasped, arching in pleasure against the purr in Draco's
voice.
He pushed his first finger into his mouth. It tickled in his belly as he sucked
and twirled his tongue. He bobbed his head and felt his body begin to feel
warm. As he pushed his second finger in without taking out the first, it began
to tingle between his legs and in his nipples.
“Good, Harry. Just like that,” Draco rasped. He sank lower on the bench, and
Harry draped himself over Draco's lap, taking three fingers into his mouth.
Draco wrapped his hand in Harry's hair and held his head up so he could watch.
Harry moaned. There was a burst of laughter as a group of people came along the
sidewalk of the park. Harry hesitated, eyes on Draco.
* Don't stop, * Draco ordered, eyes practically glowing. * Other hand. *
Harry pulled his wet fingers out of his mouth. He wasn't expecting Draco to
grab his wrist, and he gave a small cry as Draco put his spit-slick fingers
into his own mouth, sucking on them the way Harry had. Sharp pleasure tore
through his body as Draco gently scrapped his teeth along each finger.
“I think someone's in the park.” A whistle came their way from the rowdy group.
“Someone's having fun over there!” Laughter. “Maybe we can join in.” More
laughter. A girl's happy squeal, “Frank, leave whoever it is alone! We're gonna
to be late. Let's go,” said on a laugh.
* Harry, *Draco sharply ordered, never looking away from Harry once. * Other
hand. *
Harry practically shoved his hand toward his mouth and quickly licked at his
palm, whimpering as Draco began to bob his head over Harry's sensitive fingers.
Heat and pleasure built between them until something powerful washed through
Harry, making him toss his head back with an almost desperate cry.
When the wave receded, Harry collapsed, heart racing and nearly blind into
Draco's arms. The blond was telling him how much he loved him, how good he was,
that he'd always take care of him. Harry curled into Draco's warm embrace
feeling whole and happy for the first time in his life. It made tears blur his
vision of the shadowed park and spill down his flushed cheeks.
Chapter End.
Do you think Brendon will betray them? Or are our boy safe here? 
 
 
 
***** Destruction *****
A/N:This chapter really pushed at my comfort zone. I'd love to have feedback on
it.
                                     x x x
                                  Destruction
Life at Brendon's settled into a type of rhythm. Harry cleaned the apartment,
did laundry for all three of them, and cooked all the meals. Draco hated having
Harry downstairs, so he ended up taking over the basement clean. Draco also
made sure to corner Brendon whenever possible to learn how the underground
worked.
Drugs, human trafficking, killers for hire, there was a very busy black market
in New York City beyond the master Draco had known, and he would have to become
an expert at navigating his and Harry's underground lives or face getting
caught and separated. Living off the radar with no schooling, records, or
family wasn't exactly going to be easy.
                                      xxx
“How many Families are in New York?” Brendon quizzed.
They were sitting at the low coffee table in front of the tv while Harry was in
the kitchen washing their breakfast dishes.
“Five,” Draco answered easily. “Gambino, Genovese, Bonanno, Lucchese, and
Colombo.”
“Right,” Brendon praised. “Now that you have the basics of each Family and
their relative territories in New York, let's talk about current events.” He
leaned back and draped his arms along the seats of the couch behind them. “The
Families are in turmoil right now, which is why I'm able to hide you. Last
year, the FBI arrested a lot of powerful people under the RICO Act. Anthony
Salerno, Anthony Corallo, and Carmine Persico, bosses of the Genovese, Lucchese
and Colombo groups, are especially in hot water. But the Feds won't stop there.
They're after all five Families. The trials will start in the next couple
months and most everyone is focused on that right now.”
Brendon met Draco's eyes solemnly. “Raymond was an underboss to Corallo, the
Lucchese Family Head. I heard evidence is strong against Corallo. He'll likely
not make it out of the trial. Vittorio Amuso is throwing his weight around,
trying to become the next Head, but Anthony Luongo is fighting him for it. They
are very dangerous, Draco. Stay away from the Lucchese. Out of sight, out of
mind.”
Draco held that intense gaze and nodded once. “I'll remember.”
Brendon gave a crooked smile. “Good.” He stood and stretched his arms over his
head, bending back slightly. His eyes fell on Harry who was humming as he
worked at the sink, but they slid away without a change in expression.
Draco watched Brendon carefully. It had been six days and he had never given
Draco a reason not to trust him, but that just meant Brendon hadn't betrayed
them yet, not that he wouldn't.
“In any case, I'm affiliated loosely with John Gotti, the Gambino Family Head.
They call him the Teflon Don because the Feds can't make charges stick. He's
your biggest ally if Amuso or Luongo come after you.” Brendon pushed his thick
brown hair away from his face and, looking down at Draco, added, “Make sure
everything is spotless. I've got big plans for tonight!” That said, he went to
the door, scooped up his keys, and shut it behind him without giving Draco
another glance.
Draco relaxed and went to the counter. Harry looked over at him immediately,
and Draco gave him a smile. “I'll be back in four hours. Then we'll go to the
park.”
“Okay, Draco,” Harry answered with tranquil green eyes, black hair a mess as
always - calm peace love.
Reaching forward, Draco ran his fingertips down Harry's cheek before heading
out.
                                     x x x
Draco made sure they went outside every day. In fact, it was the most important
part of their day. After familiarizing themselves with the surrounding ten
blocks, they were able to go to all the parks and playgrounds in the area.
They were happiest when they were playing, lost in their imaginations and
leaving everything else behind. They even played with other children and
learned new games: tag, dodge ball, pirates, hide and seek, and kickball were
among their favorites.
                                     x x x
It was a beautiful afternoon. The park had grassy space, a few old trees, and a
small pond. A handful of boys were kicking around a soccer ball. Draco
recognized two of them – John and Timothy, brothers - one seven and the other
nine. Grinning, Draco ran up, yelling a greeting. Harry jogged behind him –
excited happy.
“Let's form teams an' play kickball,” Draco suggested. “Me, Harry, an' Timothy
against you four.”
His shoulder-length blond hair fell around his face and got into his eyes, so
he'd taken to pulling it back into a high ponytail while they played. His
cheeks were flushed with happiness and his eyes were a relaxed grey. Harry
always looked ruffled, his short black hair sticking up in places, but he was
smiling and his eyes were bright.
They both wore sneakers with thick socks and jeans with three layers on top: t-
shirt, sweater, jacket. Everything they wore were in muted colors: grays,
blacks, dark blues and purples. Just in case they needed to disappear into the
shadows. Their breath clouded in front of their faces still as they edged into
March, the highs only making it to the upper forties, but it was clear skies.
Squeezing Harry's hand in his, Draco turned to him with a smile and released
him. “Harry, get somethin' ta be bases.”
“Okay!” Harry took off, obediently looking for items that would work.
“This is Draco,” Timothy explained to the other boys. He was grinning a big
stupid grin, which always reminded Draco of a puppy.
“Who made 'em boss?” a read-headed boy of about ten demanded. He stared at
Draco with narrowed blue eyes.
“Just wan'ed to play a game,” Draco answered innocently, but he met the boy's
stare head on. The redhead looked away first. “You don't have to if ya don't
want.”
“I wanna play!” John cried, jumping with his fist in the air. “And I'm gonna
beat ya this time, Draco!”
Harry returned and then everyone was too busy playing to argue.
                                      xxx
Life was perfect.
                                      xxx
Draco and Harry walked arm in arm down the street. It was dark, almost nine.
The club wouldn't be busy for another couple of hours, so they should be able
to slip in without fighting a crowd. Draco's knees ached where he had scrapped
them sliding to home base. Harry's legs were warm and wobbly from running
around so much. It had been a great day.
“What're ya plannin' for dinner?” Draco asked as they turned the corner onto
their street. He was looking toward the slightly smaller boy while Harry looked
back at him, their faces only an inch or two apart.
“I put roast and veggies in the slow cooker,” Harry answered happily. “It
should be done now.”
“Sounds good.” Draco leaned that small distance forward and kissed Harry's lips
as softly as a snowflake falling before pulling away.
At their door, they saw the security mesh was up. Brendon was in. Draco
unlocked the steel door, and once they were inside, he turned and re-locked it
before grabbing Harry's hand and climbing the stairs to the apartment. They
could smell the stew, the richness of it, from the hallway. It made Draco's
stomach growl. Eager for a good meal, he quickly unlocked the apartment door
and burst in, Harry's hand still held safe in his own.
In that moment, it was as if time stood still. He could see his arm
outstretched, could feel the smile on his face, could smell Harry's delicious
stew. But his peripheral recognized body shapes that shouldn't be there. His
smile melted and his head turned in slow motion as his hand clamped down
punishingly hard around Harry's.
Two large guys in suits stood against either wall. Two men on the couch, one
Brendon, the other a stranger. The metal gleam along the silver gun as the man
on the couch held it to Brendon's head. All eyes were turned toward Draco and
Harry as they came in the door. He could hear the heavy tread of boots as they
began to climb up the stairs behind them.
They were trapped.
The man with the gun began to grin, flashing teeth. He was a chubby guy. Thick
dark hair, dusky skin. Square face with a bulbous nose that had been broken a
few times. Italian. Mafia. Brendon sat casually, face calm and unimpressed, but
Draco could see the tension in his eyes.
“Welcome home, bambini,” the gunman called cheerfully, voice rich and deep.
“Come. Sit here. Let's have a chat.” He gestured with his fee hand toward the
coffee table.
Draco's heart pumped smooth and firm in his chest. He felt the last six days
peel away and the cold clarity of the Hold settle down on his mind like a
coating of ice. His first priority was Harry's safety and, as he took small
steps forward, he released Harry's hand and said cold and quiet into the boy's
mind, * Eyes on the floor, Harry. Don't speak. Hear only me and be ready to
move if I say. *
- fear obedience trust -
Draco stopped short of the coffee table, face an empty mask. Harry stood at his
back.
“Come now, bambino. Sit. Let me get a good look at you.” The man gestured more
firmly, smile getting wider, more dangerous, at the small disobedience.
* On your knees, Harry. Next to the end of the table and in front Brendon's
legs. Keep your head down. Be small and quiet, *Draco ordered as he slid in
front of the table and sat on the end. He had to turn his body slightly at an
angle to face the gunman.
The man casually reached forward, grabbed Draco's arm hard enough to bruise,
and slid him down the coffee table so he was sitting in the middle and directly
in front of the man. Draco kept still and empty as his chin was held by hard
fingers and titled this way and that.
“Bel ragazzo,” the bastard exclaimed. The gun never wavered once, still held an
inch from Brendon's temple. “I can see why Raymond would hold onto you,
bambino, and why this feccia Gambino would steal you.”
“I did not steal him, Luongo,” Brendon denied calmly. “The boy escaped. A few
days later he called me begging for shelter.” He gave a dangerous smile of his
own. “Finder's keepers.”
The gun whipped down and slammed into Brendon's head, sending the man sideways
with blood dripping from his hairline. Besides his arm, Luongo had hardly
moved. He was still smiling, but now his eyes were on Brendon as the other man
sat up.
“I've always hated you, Irish cagna. Thinking you're bigger than you are,” he
said cheerfully before turning back to Draco. “It is good news to hear, that
you understand begging. Let's hear it, schiavo. Let's hear some begging.”
He released Draco's face finally by giving it a shove. Draco shifted his
shoulders and slid to his knees in front of the men. It trapped him between
them and the coffee table that was now at his back. He put his wrist together
and held his hands over his head as he curled over his thighs. His palms faced
up, supplicating.
“Please,” he said softly, voice empty. “Please.”
“Bellissimo,” Luongo cried happily. Draco couldn't see him with his face down
by his knees, but he could feel it in his core as the man's evil eyes slid to
Harry. “And this one. Does he beg?”
“He's stupid, master,” Draco offered, voice still soft to hide the hateful hiss
that wanted to slip out. “Can't talk. Doesn't understand most things.”
Luongo's leg lifted and Draco braced for what he knew was coming. The man
stomped down on his neck and shoulders. Draco was slammed flat. His jaw
immediately throbbing from where it hit the floor. He could feel blood from
where he bit his lip. He returned to the curled over position, hands together
and open, without a sound as his neck and shoulders began to burn from the
blow.
“Did I speak to you, schiavo? You've forgotten your place,” Luongo growled.
“Strip!” Then toward Harry, “You! Strip! Schiavo don't wear clothes!”
Draco sat up and pulled off his jacket, placing it on the floor and slightly
under the table. Then the sweater and shirt. He had to stand to remove his
pants. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks quickly, and removed his
pants and underwear. Harry hadn't moved an inch from his cowering, silent
position at the end of the table.
- fear anxiety trust –
Draco, completely bare, slid back to his knees in the begging pose.
Luongo laughed. “All this for defective product, O'Shae. Although the bel
ragazzo is well trained.” A leather Italian shoe toed Draco's head.
“This is a matter for the Commission,” Brendon said coldly, eyes unblinking and
predatory. “The Families cannot afford a street war between Gambino and
Lucchese with the Feds sniffing around.”
BANG!
– TERROR –
Draco's head whipped up. Wide eyes unbelieving, he stared as Brendon fell
sideways. The smell of blood and gunpowder filled his nose. Red was spilling
out of Brendon's head, had sprayed the wall in a fine mist. One eye was pushed
out slightly, bulging. His scull misshapen. Dead and limp and gone forever in a
single brutal instant.
Harry was panting, couldn't catch his breath. Draco could feel how close Harry
was to passing out. He met Luongo's eyes and the man flashed him a toothy grin.
“Cagna don't give orders,” he told Draco almost gently. He reached forward and
grabbed Draco by the hair. “While we're here, I heard there were special rooms
downstairs. Let's see what we can find. I suddenly feel like celebrating.”
Draco could hardly think around the image of Brendon's broken head and deformed
features.
“Stephano. You can have the bambino muto.”
Draco was pulled to his feet by a vicious hold on his hair and practically
dragged toward the door. He saw from the corner of his eyes as one of the big
men knelt and began touching Harry's hair and face. The little boy's eyes were
huge and glassy and beautifully green.
Draco stumbled down the stairs, giving a little cry as his scalp screamed in
pain. He was ignored. Then they were going down to the basement and Draco felt
his shock shatter.
- terrrorpanicterror -
He was pulled to the stage in the center of the exhibition room. Luongo turned
and lifted him, pushing him carelessly onto the wooden platform. He was talking
to the three other men, one of which held Harry. Telling them to explore and
have fun.
Draco watched through glittering eyes as two of the thugs went toward a
spanking bench with Harry in tow. Laughing and bantering back and forth, they
set Harry on top and began to pull off his clothes. Luongo was at the clear
case. The butt of his gun shattered the glass and he cheerfully examined the
toys there. The last thug stood by the stage, his eyes glued to Draco's naked
flesh as he lowered the chains from the ceiling and cuffed Draco's wrists.
Draco was pulled upward by his arms until his shoulders began to burn
painfully, his toes barely brushing the stage.
“Bellissimo,” Luongo purred. He ran his hand down Draco's chest and over his
side as he moved to stand at Draco's back. “Let's see if I can remind you who
you belong to, schiavo.”
* Harry. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that? *Draco asked, pushing his
voice forward across the distance separating them.
- terror confusion anxiety – Green eyes shifted slightly to meet Draco's from
across the room. Harry was naked now and four hands roamed roughly over his
skin. He was breathing fast, skinny chest rising and falling as fast as a
bird's.
He gave a sharp, high cry as he was turned onto his stomach and pressed down so
that he was draped over the bench, head hanging and ass tilted up. His cheeks
were spread. Crude suggestions and sick jokes went back and forth above him,
and then a thumb was pressed dryly into the tight virgin hole. He gave a pained
yelp, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus on Draco's voice and nothing
else.
One of the men moved in front of the bench by Harry's head. He was unzipping
his pants and rubbing himself until he was hard. Harry whimpered. The silken
feel of the slimy tip as it rubbed across his mouth made his stomach turn. A
bitter smell filled his nose. Then a hand was on his face, forcing his mouth
open.
SNAP – The whip lashed down across Draco's shoulders and back, warm blood
flowed instantly. Tears rolled down his pale face as he watched the scene from
across the room, but his voice held none of his fear and grief. It remained
hard, commanding.
* It's going to be okay, Harry. I promise. It's going to be over real soon. But
until then I want you to dream. I want you to leave your body behind. *
Christiano pressed his dick into the warm, wet mouth past the small petal lips.
Barely halfway in, he was already hitting the back of a silken throat. He
groaned and muttered a prayer of gratitude in Italian under his breath. The
thick black hair was easy to fist, and he pressed the slave's head lower so
that he could angle down that tight throat. Those petal lips instinctively
wrapped around him and sucked, the instincts of a baby. Chris hissed in
pleasure, feeling that gentle suction down to his core.
Crack! - and now there was an X crisscrossing, showing the white of bone where
they met. Through gritted teeth, Draco gave a low moan of pain.
* Go away to the park. With the yellow monkey bars. Build it in your mind. As
much detail as you can. Go there, Harry. Away from here. Just for a while,
okay? I'll come get you when it's all over. I promise, Harry. I'm going to come
get you. But you have to go there now. *
Eyes slitted, holding the boy captive, Chris pressed forward until the seem of
his open pants hit the boy's face. The small throat convulsed around him. The
green eyes were wide with terror, tears spilling as Chris bounced his hips,
refusing to pull out from the tiny throat. He watched the outline of his dick
in the child's throat moving in and out, and his heart hammered in pure
ecstasy. He spurt a bit and laughed as the boy thrashed weakly, face red. Chris
pulled back, let the small tongue writhe around him, let the boy gasp and sob
and whine like an animal. Fuck it felt so damn good!
* Harry! Can you see the green grass? Focus, Harry! Do as I say! *
Snap! - a third line, this one nearly horizontal across the meaty muscles just
under the shoulder blades. The whip curled around the boy's side and tore the
flesh open. Draco yelped. He was panting as if he were running a marathon, back
arched, head flung back.
Harry gave a long, loud whine of fear as the hard flesh pushed back into his
mouth, over his tongue and into the back of his throat. His heart beat so fast
it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He was shaking all over
and long since crying. A hand fisted his hair to hold his head steady just as a
wet, hard finger was shoved into him from behind. Harry arched with a muffled
scream.
- TERROR painpainpain -
* You are mine and you WILL listen! *
CRACK! - across the small of the back at a slight angle. The pain blackened
Draco's vision and he let loose his first scream, his body now hanging limp.
Harry closed his eyes tight and tried to think past the fear and pain. (jaw
burning, throat on fire, can't breathe can't breathe)Draco was with him. He
needed to listen to Draco. (hands on his hips, fingers breaking him open until
he wanted to scream and scream and please make it all stop)Draco was mad. He
had to listen. Anything for Draco.
* There's a wind, and the sky is blue and clear. You go over to the yellow
bars. They shine in the sunlight, don't they? *
The park. Slowly, Harry could see it. The pain faded and the basement
disappeared. The park was empty. Just a few trees, empty sidewalks on all
sides, tall brick buildings, grass under his sneakers. The trees whispered in
the wind as the leaves swayed. The yellow bars gleamed. The sky, blue without a
cloud. Just as Draco had described.
* You can smell the rust and metal of them. You grab hold and your hands burn
as you swing across, but it's fun, and you're happy and safe. *
Harry could feel the metal under his hands if he concentrated. Could smell the
rusty iron of them. He grabbed the first bar and let his body fall forward,
held by his hands alone. Then he began to swing. Waiting for Draco. Draco had
promised he'd come. Until then, he'd swing on the bars. Safe and far away. He
was gone.
Snap! - this one was almost dead center down his back, tracing his spine.
Draco's stomach heaved and acidic bile and vomit splattered the front of the
stage.
But even through the agony, Draco grinned a wolf's grin. Hot searing pain and
then the tacky feel of blood sliding down his back, but Draco's focus was on
the bond. Harry's emotions had muted. Even as he watched the bastard shove two
lubed fingers into Harry's body and roughly scissored them apart, even as the
other began carelessly fucking Harry's face, Harry was safe.
Stephano pulled his fingers free of the slave boy's body as he watched Chris
get a smooth rhythm in the brat's throat. His partner's eyes were half-lidded,
his mouth slightly open in pure pleasure. Oh, yeah, this slave was going to be
a good ride. He slathered lube over his rock hard cock and flung it away. With
rough hands, he lifted one of the boy's legs up, bent at the knee, and hooked
it around his wrist, his hand planted next to the boy's hip on the padded
bench. It opened the boy up without having to hold the cheeks apart and put the
boy at the perfect hight for his cock.
Crack! - Draco's scream high and clear pierced through the sounds of sex.
Breathing hard, Stephano stared at the short but thick length of his shaft
pulsing hotly as it rested against the child's ass. It was almost the same
width of the slave's ass cheek. The image of splitting the boy in half only
made him harder. Grinning, he lined the dark head of his dick to the already
swollen and pink hole. The boy had gone limp, eyes empty. The look turned him
on like none other. He felt godlike power surge through his veins as he put his
cock to the boy's hole and began to press forward, but it was still so damn
tight.
He bounced his hips, trying to get through the small opening. After a few
seconds, he managed to work the head through. Tight! So tight, and silky soft
and warm. He began to bounce harder, desperate to be sheathed completely in
that perfect heat. He leaned over the child's back and applied more force to
each short thrust. As he sweated and worked and cursed, Stephano watched with
avid interest as Chris worked the boy's face up and down over his cock in
concert with his rocking hips. Watched as that longer, thinner dick stretched
the boy's lips and throat again and again. Fuck it was hot! Everything was so
good! He lived for this moment.
SNAP! - another sharp scream but weaker this time and ending on a whimpered
sob.
Pulling back until it was just the head inside, he shifted his attention to the
boy under him as he slammed in, getting his cock half way. He pulled back until
just the head was inside the warm body and did it again. He tore through the
resistance and slammed all the way home.
The boy jerked, an involuntary spasm in reaction to the sheer agony of being
torn deep inside. Stephano grinned and slid out a bit. His grin widened when he
saw the smear of blood on his cock. He pushed back in with a hard snap, sighing
in bliss as his hips slapped up against the boy's smooth ass. The slave was
perfection! Swollen and hot and wet inside, and it was getting wetter every
minute as the brat bled. Fuck yeah! Nothing felt as good as this.
Crack! - a yelp and louder sobbing.
Through his tears, Draco's silver eyes remained locked onto the back of the
bastard thrusting into Harry. He felt rage hotter than the whip against his
skin, felt it burn up through his gut. It twisted his face into something
vicious and primal. The whip kept falling, and Luongo kept
talkingtalkingtalking. Draco heard none of it. He was consumed by the vision of
Harry's rape. He felt his power build, felt the rage and hate simmer up under
his skin, and Draco bared his teeth, feeling the ghostly remembrance of flesh
in his mouth, of tearing the skin of his attackers, of killing them.
CRACK! - Draco howled, the agonized sound transmuting into something more
dangerous.
HateRageFire burned painfully across his body. Sizzled in the blood that
spattered the ceiling, floor and walls. Draco gurgled a laugh through a haze of
agony and rage. Blood. His blood. His poison. Faster than lightning he caught
an image of Harry's saliva coating his fingers, making them able to heal. And a
thought. A fucking hilarious thought. Just as Harry's spit could heal, perhaps
Draco's blood could kill; blood on a whip flying through the air, blood that
could be poisonous!
The blows to his back began to slow and he tore his eyes from Harry long enough
to see Luongo stagger, eyes wide, mouth working but with no sound or air making
it through the closed throat. The delicate sheen of blood dotted the monster's
cheek and chin. Draco's blood. Grinning fiercely, he watched avidly as the big
man fell back off the stage and conveniently onto a couch. He barely made a
sound as he fell, just a small thump.
Draco's eyes whipped forward to see that the bastards with Harry hadn't
noticed. A glance to the side showed the third thug on the couch with his cock
out and in hand. He'd been watching Draco's torture and had already expired,
unknown to everyone else. He must have rubbed his hand along Draco's back for
lube, the sick fucker.
Glancing upward at the cuffs holding him, he tested the give. They were meant
for an adult, not a child. Without hesitation, Draco yanked hard until the skin
of his wrists tore and his thumbs dislocated with a soft pop. Dropping to his
feet in a crouch, the blaze on his back igniting into an inferno, he pulled on
his thumbs, forcing them back into place. He made not a sound as he rode
through the blinding, stomach-churning flash of pain. When his vision cleared,
he silently lifted the bloodied whip from the platform next to him.
Unblinking, grinning madly, Draco dropped off the stage and strode over to the
bastard fucking Harry faster and harder with every moment that passed. The
man's shirt was unbuttoned, falling off his shoulders, caught at the crook of
his arms. Draco lifted the whip back and lashed it down as hard as he possibly
could on that bared skin, uncaring about the searing pain every movement cost
him.
The man's back arched, and Draco, quick as a snake, lashed the whip down again
and again until the man was collapsing, falling out of Harry's body and onto
the floor to convulse.
The thug who'd been at Harry's mouth lunged forward, face twisted into an
animalistic snarl, dick still hard and wet with Harry's spit. Draco dropped the
whip and dove to meet him. They crashed together. Not expecting the move
forward, the bastard was unable to grab him.
The impact knocked the air out of Draco's lungs as they went tumbling backward.
His back hit the ground and they slid. He growled, nearly blacking out from the
pain, and he lashed his head forward, biting down with all his strength on the
man's collarbone and shoulder. He jerked his head to the side, tearing a chunk
of flesh free. A fist collided with Draco's head, but then the man was falling.
Draco rolled to the side, coughing and howling and laughing, even as dark spots
flashed across his vision. Crawling, he dragged himself over to his boy. Harry
was still draped over the bench, catatonic as blood flowed steadily from his
opened hole. Draco pulled himself to his feet and got a grip around Harry's
torso, pulling him off and dragging him over to a red leather loveseat set
against a far wall. It was as far from the bastards dying slowly on the floor
as Draco could get.
He got Harry lying down on his back and draped himself between the boy's legs
and half on Harry's chest. He rested his chin on the boy's sternum, fought down
nausea and pulled himself together. * Harry, it's time to come back. I've got
you. It's over now. Come on, Harry. Come back to me. *
Harry was swinging from bar to bar, the tickling fun of it making him smile,
when he heard it. Draco. Draco was calling him. The park wavered. Another call.
This time Harry could hear a hint of pain in Draco's voice. The park shattered
and Harry blinked dry eyes to see Draco lying in his lap and on his chest. He
looked past silvered eyes and saw the bloodied, torn flesh of Draco's pale
back, even saw bone in some places.
Harry gasped and moved to sit up, but a firm hand held him down.
“No, Harry.” Silver eyes captured his own. “That's not how this's gonna go. You
first. Then me.”
Harry heard something thumping on the floor and turned to look, but Draco
captured his face. There was anger in Draco's expression, and Harry blushed. He
tried to get his heartbeat under control and it suddenly hit him that he was
away from those bad men hurting him; realized Draco had saved him and had been
seriously hurt doing it
– love gratitude adoration -“Draco. Yours. Love you,” he whispered, tears
spilling once more.
Draco's expression softened and a smile peeked out. Harry felt warm to his core
and felt himself relax completely – submission. Draco was here. He was safe.
That's all that mattered. Draco would heal him and then he could heal his
Draco. Just as Draco said.
Silver eyes huge in his vision, a slightly trembling hand touched his mouth.
Harry opened without hesitation, and Draco slipped three fingers inside. It was
more than Harry was used to, and for a second he was back on his stomach with
that man pushing in, can't breathe! , but then the familiar and comforting
taste of Draco's skin filled his mouth and erased the other bitter taste
lingering there. He let his eyes close on a sigh.
He opened his heart, felt the layers peel away and the warmth deep inside pool
upward, felt it surround Draco's fingers as commanded. He kept his eyes closed
as he felt Draco reach down and touch him just outside his hole. And now that
he was focused there, he arched with a painful cry. It hurthurthurthurt!
Throbbing and pervasive, his whole body was screaming!
* I'm going to heal you, Harry. The pain will go away everywhere I touch. I'm
going to make you mine inside and out. Do you want that, Harry? *
- need trust desperation painpainpain -“Yes, Draco,” he sobbed. He opened his
eyes and held Draco's gaze. “Please. Make me yours,” he begged, soft and
desperate, voice choked with pain. “Make it stop.”
Draco kissed the inside of Harry's thigh just above his knee and pressed two
fingers forward.
Harry arched as hot pain spiked up his spine only to be instantly chased by a
cooling sensation that felt oh so good. Instinctively, he flung his hands above
his hand and grasped the arm of the couch. Draco's fingers circled his walls
inside, erasing all the pain just as he promised.
“Draco...” he moaned, closing his eyes again.
“Tell me where it hurts, Harry,” Draco rasped, voice husky, silvered eyes
lidded, pupils huge.
“Deeper,” he answered, whimpering. Spreading his legs, draping one over the
back of the couch and letting the other fall off, Harry tilted his hips up,
using the leg hooked on the couch as leverage. “Deep in there.” Sobbing, he met
Draco's eyes. “Hurts so much.”
Draco swallowed something hot and knotted as he met the trusting green gaze of
his boy. “I'm gonna fix it, Harry.”
Harry blinked slowly, tears still falling. “Cause I'm yours.”
“Mine,” Draco agreed fiercely.
He gently pulled his fingers back and then pressed three into Harry's warm
hole, trying to reach all the spots that hurt. The swelling and heat lessened
with every gentle push in, and Draco felt something coil in his gut. Tears
spilled over his cheeks in utter gratitude that Harry loved him enough, trusted
him enough, to do this.
Almost hypnotized, he watched Harry's body arch gracefully, listened to the
boy's moans and soft cries of “deeper” and “Draco” and “yours”. Panting and
staring deep into each other's eyes, Draco put four fingers to Harry's hole and
pushed slowly forward until his thumb stopped the inward thrust. He pressed
against Harry's walls and gently turned his hand, touching everything he could.
Harry felt as if he were floating. Draco's gentle touch was inside him! Almost
as deep as the pain. Draco filled him, owned him. He was Draco's like never
before, and it sent his heart soaring. Sent his heart thundering in his chest
with joy. He felt on fire, but it didn't hurt. It made him squirm and thrust
his hips, trying to get more of Draco. More of everything as something almost
painfully good moved through his core. Eyes wide, pupils huge, he gave a wild
cry.
Draco rode the wave as Harry's pleasure rushed through him, crashed and spilled
and swept him away. So close; that electric sensation that came when they
touched and healed. He breathed hot, damp breaths against Harry's soft inner
thigh as he bent forward, his thin blond hair falling across his face as he
watched his fingers pushed in and out of Harry's body in a smooth glide.
“Draco,” Harry begged. He was glistening with sweat all over and panting so
hard he could hardly talk. “Almost, please, yours, Draco, almost gone.”
Draco bent to take his own sore thumb into his mouth, four fingers still
stretching Harry open, and slathered it with his own saliva. He pulled his
fingers back, aligned them again, and watched with wide eyes as he pressed his
whole hand forward. Harry parted for him, loose yet tight, holding Draco
snuggly inside his body. Draco gasped and pressed slowly deeper. Harry's pink
hole stretched white and then closed pink around Draco's thin wrist.
Harry's face glistened with sweat, his cheeks were flushed red. His neck arched
gracefully as his lips parted. Eyes clenched shut, he gave a soft, breathy cry.
Draco groaned, almost overwhelmed at the sight. Ears ringing, vision blurring,
he turned his hand carefully, puled back a bit, stretching the hole white again
and pressed in even deeper. More of his forearm disappeared into the warm
cocoon of Harry's body. Harry arched with a scream of pure pleasure.
Draco felt the echo inside him where Harry's emotions poured in, the sharp
pleasure throbbing hot and strong between them. Nearly blind, he moved his hand
in and out a little more firmly, holding Harry on that crest. He gave a sharp
twist of his hand and Harry howled, clawing at the couch arm above him. Draco
gave a few more fast thrusts, gasping in mouthfuls of air as the sheer strength
of Harry's pleasure almost triggered Draco's own.
With a sigh, Harry finally went limp. The wave of ecstasy slowly ebbed. Draco
lay draped over Harry's body, eyes fastened to Harry's face. The green eyes
stared unseeing, drool escaping the corners of the boy's mouth. But slowly the
thunder of their hearts slowed, and Harry began to blink. The boy's mouth
curled into a soft smile and he lowered his arms to stroke Draco's hair and
face.
With a dreamy smile, he whispered hoarsely, “Doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt,
Draco.”
Unable to speak, Draco laid kiss after kiss along Harry's thigh as he gently
worked his hand free. Harry was practically a puddle. He moaned and rocked his
hips as inch by inch Draco's hand was pulled and pressed and pulled until
Draco's fingers slipped out in a long slide and squelch.
Harry's face dripped sweat, his hair hung wet and heavy, and a sweet smile
stretched his lips. Draco kissed that smile. Kissed every inch of his boy's
face; drank the salty moisture from Harry's soft skin.
* Love you, * he confessed, almost burning with it. * Anything for you. *
“Love,” Harry whispered, nearly asleep – love submission adoration. He lifted
his arms and let them fall around Draco's shoulders. “Love you, Draco.”
Draco winced as Harry touched a lash mark.
Harry's sleepy euphoria faded under a rush of adrenaline and he sat up. He pet
Draco's damp hair, this time in entreaty. “Please, Draco? Please?”
Draco gave a sharp nod.
On wobbly legs, Harry got to his feet. He felt wet and open down there, but his
attention fastened on Draco's back and everything else faded away. There was
blood. It was everywhere. It coated Draco's legs, the couch, and even the floor
had a thick trail. Draco was hurt bad!
Harry ghosted his hands feather-light over Draco's shredded back. Body still
hot and tingling and open, he knew he wouldn't be able to stand for long, so he
climbed on the couch with his Draco and settled between the blond's legs. Hands
on either side of Draco's slim hips, Harry bent forward and began to lap up
Draco's blood – lovelovelovelovelove - like a kitten lapping up milk.
Tears burning down his cheeks, Draco pillowed his head into his crossed arms,
covering his face with the hand that had been inside his boy's wounded body.
His back arched into Harry's gentle, healing licks, and he let the pleasure
build once more. The feel of Harry hovering over his body, of Harry's skin
sliding against his thighs and ass every time the boy leaned forward to lick
along his shoulders, the heat of Harry, the trust and love searing though him,
Draco let it all pull him under.
In a minute, he'd get up. Get them going. Keep them safe. But for now, he gave
himself over to Harry's sweet care. Just one more moment of peace. Because they
were on their own now. Hot tears continued to soak the cushions even as Draco
gave a long low cry, pleasure spiking through him like lightning. Only one more
minute because they were no longer safe. They no longer had a home.
Brendon was gone.
Chapter end.
A/N:This chapter really pushed at my comfort zone. Pleasegive me feedback on
it.
 
***** Abandoned *****
                                   Abandoned
Harry sat glassy-eyed and naked on a loveseat that had been set against a far
wall of the exhibition room. He was exhausted from the healings and falling
into shock over everything that had happened. As for Draco, his back was
healed, but his knees throbbed and bled from kneeling on the scrapes he'd
earned from the kickball game, his right arm bore a bruise the shape of a man's
hand, his jaw ached fiercely after being nearly dislocated, his head was hot
and swollen above his ear where he'd been punched, and his mouth was still
busted. It was background noise, nothing that required Harry's energy to heal.
More dangerous was the exhaustion tugging at his mind.
Turning his attention to Harry, Draco smoothed the boy's dark hair away from
his still damp face and kissed his cheek. “Close yer eyes and rest,” he said
softly. “I'll be back real quick.”
Despite knowing the clock was ticking, that Harry would collapse soon, that
they had to get away, he had to take one last look at their enemies. With heavy
feet, he went toward the stage. As he came around the couch from behind, he saw
Luongo.
The man was on his back, half sliding off the couch. His face was swollen and
splotchy, a dark red and purple. His eyes were open and bugged out, the whites
veined in poisonous yellow. He wasn't breathing.
Draco stepped closer and used a finger to open the deadman's mouth just enough
to see specks of blood on his tongue. Draco's blood. A cold feeling of
satisfaction stole through him. He stepped away from the corpse and went around
the stage to the opposite couch. The thug, who'd been jacking off to the
whipping, had a face reddened from suffocation and whitish-yellow foam on his
lips. Draco looked at the man closely, but there was no blood on his face or
near his mouth.
Stepping back, he thought hard. Reluctantly, he let his eyes drop to the blood-
coated, now limp dick. There were no cuts that he could see, so how did his
poison get inside? But then again, Draco's rapists probably didn't have cuts
there either and they had died, too. Crouching for a closer look, an epiphany
struck! The hole at the top! That's how the poison got in. Nodding his head, he
stood and moved to Harry's attackers.
Cold hatred burned his veins as he stared at the men. The one Draco had whipped
had landed face-down next to the bench. His head was turned to the side and
looked swollen and splotchy, eyes spiderwebbed with poisonous yellow. He was a
match for Luongo.
The other was on his back. White-yellow froth coated his lips, his eyes were
bugged more than normal and blood-shot, his face was dark purple and swollen,
and his body was contorted from seizures. Clearly, the more poison was
injected, the more violent the death.
Draco understood things now. He was poisonous, but only when he charged his
blood with that icy sensation that spilled from deep inside his center. If his
blood or any other bodily fluid, like spit or sweat, entered the body of
another person in any way at all, they were dead. If Draco's poison touched the
skin of another person but didn't enter the body, they would merely be very
sick, like the times Raymond had broke him open with his fingers.
Satisfied that the men were dead and he had more answers, Draco trudged over to
Harry and took his hand. “Come on, Harry. Time ta go.”
Harry stumbled to his feet and moved robotically after Draco as the blond
pulled him forward. They went up the stairs, checked the way was clear, and
then went back up to the apartment. Draco left Harry outside the door while he
dragged a sheet from their bed and covered Brendon.
He bit his damaged lip hard enough to make it bleed again. His hands shook and
he felt queasy as the dark blue sheet turned black where it soaked up blood.
Gagging, he hurried back to Harry. His boy was growing paler by the minute and
he was breathing a bit quicker as they passed through the living room. Draco
laid him down on the bed and told him to take a nap.
Fighting through a fog of exhaustion, Draco got dressed in his warmest clothes.
Once that was done, he hurried to Brendon's bedroom. He'd never been in there
before. He had no idea what to expect.
White carpet, pale gold walls, and apricot and peach bedding wasn't it. It was
gentle, whimsical, and pristine. There was very little furniture: a dresser, a
nightstand, and the bed. Simple, elegant, and surprising, and it was Brendon's.
Draco clenched his fists and rubbed them roughly against his burning eyes. He
had work to do.
Determined, he moved to the closet and threw it open. There were shoes and
clothes hanging in neat, color-coded order. he ignored all that and went for
the bags up on the shelf that was set a foot below the ceiling. He had to drag
a kitchen stool in to reach it, and even then he had to stand on tiptoe, but he
managed to pull down two suitcases, a backpack, and a duffel bag.
He wished he could use them all, but he knew better. He discarded the suitcases
and grabbed the backpack and duffel. A quick rummage through Brendon's closet
and he pulled out two thick, wool sweaters. One was dark green, the other was
black. He left everything else, shutting the door on Brendon's bedroom forever.
He left the bags in the hallway and raided the office. Here it was all dark
woods and blacks and reds. The walls were wall-to-wall bookshelves and a safe
sat on the floor under the massive desk. He grabbed the maps from the desk
drawer that Brendon had used in his lessons sometimes. Then he crouched in
front of the safe.
He was poisonous, but maybe his poison would hurt more than humans. It was
worth a try. He thought of Harry being touched, of cruel hands making the sweet
little boy bleed. Almost immediately he felt the ice seep out of his center. He
quickly swirled his fingers around his mouth and applied his poisoned spit to
the safe door.
It took almost thirty minutes. He sat there chilled to the core by the icy
power, sweating and panting from exhaustion, as he traced the outside edge of
the safe all the way around. Finally, fingers trembling and vision going dark,
he could pull the door off. There were papers inside, but there was also money.
Draco left the papers and grabbed all of the cash. He stuffed it in the bottom
of the backpack under Brendon's sweaters.
Then he moved back to their bedroom. He pulled out Harry's warmest outfit and
laid it on the bed. He folded two sweaters each, four t-shirts and two pants
each, five pairs of socks they could share, and four underwear into the duffel.
Both bags were now pretty heavy, especially because he was almost ready to
collapse.
“Harry. Ya need to get dressed.” Draco shook the boy by the shoulder. Harry's
eyes fluttered, but that was it. * Harry. Wake up. Now, *Draco ordered with
more bite.
Harry's eyes opened blearily. Draco got him sitting and into his clothes. Then
he rushed into the kitchen. He grabbed the biggest bowls he could find, ladled
soup up to the top in both and brought them to the bedroom. Harry was sitting
on the edge of the bed, blinking slowly.
“Eat. As much as ya can.”
Draco felt too sick to eat, but he knew that was stupid. Food would be very
hard to come by as soon as they left. He didn't bother with a spoon and began
drinking straight from the bowl. The delicious taste of beef and vegetables hit
his tongue and made his heart beat faster, made him sweat as the mirage of
figures just outside of his vision flickered through his mind. He ignored it
until he thought he really might be sick.
When he put the bowl down, it was almost empty. Good enough. Harry, though, had
finished his completely. Draco gave him the rest of his bowl and went to fetch
their shoes. As he entered the living room, his eyes darted away from Brendon's
sheet-covered body. He snagged his shoes and hurried into the stairwell. He
stuffed his feet into the sneakers and hurried down to the exhibition room.
Harry's shoes and jacket lay by the bench and the two deadmen who were
beginning to stink.
Jittery, eyes darting around the room unable to settle, Draco grabbed both
before returning to Harry.
Harry sat, sleepy and full, as Draco put the boy's shoes on and tied them
snuggly. Standing, he swayed and had to brace himself on the foot of the bed
before falling over. Shaking his head hard to clear it of fog, he grabbed the
slightly heavier duffel bag and ordered Harry to take the backpack. The boy
slid off the bed and did as he was told without a word, his emotions still
swaddled in cotton.
Harry kept his eyes on the floor or on Draco, which was fine. Draco still
couldn't bring himself to look, either. Silently, they made their way through
the living room and back into the kitchen. Harry held the backpack open and
Draco filled it: peanut butter, bread that he compressed as flat as it would
go, a can opener, a butcher knife, two serrated steak knives. Then he opened
the duffel and stuffed in four cans of tuna, two cans of baked beans, a bag of
beef jerky, and a box of twelve protein bars that he found in the pantry. Draco
then went under the sink and grabbed a handful of trash bags. He also dug
through the drawers for as many matches and lighters he could find, but he only
found one of each. He put both in the duffel and zipped everything up.
“Alright, Harry. Let's go.” With a grunt of effort, Draco swung the heavy
duffel onto his back. His legs shook as he bent to help Harry put on the too
large backpack. The little boy staggered sideways before catching his balance
by leaning forward. “You good?” he asked, voice tight with effort.
“Yes,” Harry's soft voice answered him. His head was lowered. Because of the
effort to carry the backpack or trying to avoid Brendon, Draco didn't know.
For some reason, Draco couldn't help locking the apartment behind them as if it
were a normal day. He also locked the steel door once they stepped outside.
There was a huge and busy crowd of brightly colored people filling the sidewalk
trying to get into the club. The loud, muffled music only just registered. He'd
grown so used to hearing it at night. Ducking his head and holding onto Harry
tightly, he slipped the keys into his jacket pocket. He knew he'd never come
back here, but he still couldn't let them go. Brendon's had been the only safe
place he had known in a long time.
A few people tried to talk to them, but this was New York. Draco ignored them
and they let him go. Once they turned the corner, he offered Harry a small,
tired smile. It wasn't even midnight yet. Only two and a half hours had passed
since the kickball game and yet everything had changed.
Well, not everything...
Draco shot a glance at the little boy trudging along beside him. No matter what
it took, he'd keep Harry safe...
That would never change.
                                     x x x
Harry watched Draco's back as they walked slowly down Ave of the Americans. It
was cold. His panting breaths clouded in front of his face, making it damp and
cold. The backpack was heavy. It pulled at his shoulders and made his back
hurt, but it was smaller than the big duffel Draco wore. Draco was nearly bent
in half. Every step grew slower and slower. Harry bit his lip and moved up
beside the blond.
“Where're we going?” he asked quietly, hoping not to make Draco mad.
Draco's face was pale and he kept his eyes on the ground. He was breathing
hard, shivering and sweating. After a long pause, the answer came to Harry's
mind. * Central Park. So big. Can disappear there. Keep Harry safe. Got to make
it to the park. *
Harry nodded his head. Things had been fuzzy and grey, but he was awake now.
Draco had saved them. Again. Draco had gotten everything together while Harry
slept. Harry had to help him now. He knew where the big park was that Draco
wanted to hide in. They had gone there once before; he could help!
Looking around, he saw that they were halfway there. The last time they went it
had taken half an hour to walk, but with the bags and walking so slow Harry
knew it would take longer. Putting his head down, determined to help, he held
Draco's hand tightly and plodded forward, pulling Draco behind him.
It was still dark when they finally passed the Central Park marker. Draco was
leaning more and more on Harry, and Harry's legs shook with the strain, but he
wasn't stopping. Not until he found a hidden place among the winter-bare trees
and shrubs. He led Draco to the right, toward the Hallett Nature Sanctuary. He
kept his eyes open and focused, dragging a stumbling Draco along behind him.
They passed under whispering tree branches and crunched through the dry leaves
and slush. It took several long minutes before Harry found an area shrouded by
bushes. He practically collapsed and Draco fell on top of him. Wiggling, legs
on fire, Harry slipped from his backpack and the pile. He arranged the bags and
maneuvered an unconscious Draco so he was lying propped against them. Then,
feeling darkness pulling him down, Harry curled around his Draco and let sleep
claim him.
                                     x x x
Draco jerked awake, a spike of pain searing through his body as his muscles
protested. Weak morning light filtered down through the bushes and trees around
them. He was lying against the bags with Harry practically sprawled on top of
him. The boy's wild, black hair tickled his nose and he brushed it away from
his face.
They were in the park. He remembered hitting the street, remembered putting one
foot in front of the other, and then... nothing. He had no idea how they made
it to the park. He looked down at the boy sound asleep on his chest and smiled.
Well, he had some idea. Running his fingers through that wild, soft hair, Draco
relaxed back against the bags.
And that's when it hit him. Eyes squeezed shut, he let the tears come. Brendon
had been strange, but only because he'd been like Draco. He'd understood in a
way no adult ever had. He'd taken them in, given them freedom. He'd taught
Draco and treated him like an equal. It physically hurt, the loss of him. It
burned like acid in his chest and gut. Brendon was gone, but not by some whim
of fate. He'd beenmurdered!Murdered by the Lucchese Family. Draco held Harry
tighter. Brendon had been his and they had taken him, they had hurt Harry, and
he would have revenge!
Taking a deep breath, he scrubbed the tears off his face and shook the boy's
shoulder. “Harry, ya did good, but we need'ta get gone. Come on, Harry.”
It was cold, the ground felt like hard ice. Draco was shivering slightly, but
it wasn't too bad. Not with all his clothes and Harry curled around him. But it
was getting later in the day. Winter or not, there were always visitors to
Central Park. They had to get to the North Woods, more specifically the Ravine.
It was wild there with only a few rough paths. There were creeks where they
could gather water and little rocky hills that hopefully would have a nook they
could hide in.
Harry groaned and blinked open his eyes. His hair was ruffled like a bird's
feathers. It made Draco smile as he tried to smooth the black tuffs down.
Climbing stiffly to their feet, Draco stretched and helped Harry back into the
backpack. He got the duffel back on somehow and they began to trudge through
the woods.
Draco half expected questions. Like, what are we going to do? Or, what about
food or shelter? But none came. Checking the bond, Draco felt a soft hum of –
trust acceptance. It made Draco's chest tighter and even more determined to
figure this out.
It took all day. Hunger and fatigue clawed at both of them before they found a
spot that Draco liked. There was a creek with a two foot waterfall about fifty
feet away. The trees and bushes were thick here. A ten foot rocky wall was at
their backs and their gear fit in a crevice.
Draco pulled out some bread and peanut butter, the can opener, and one can of
beans. Harry was quiet, sitting at his side, their shoulders resting together.
Draco was equally silent. He had no idea what they were going to do. Brendon's
loss, rage and hate and grief, it all still fogged his mind.
Once the food was done, they went to the stream and drank, then went behind a
tree to do their business. It was cold. Their faces and hands were frozen
through, but their bodies were warm enough from the winter clothes.
Draco dug through the bags until he got out a big black trash bag and the big
sweaters. “Come here,” he rasped, flapping his hand impatiently at Harry.
Harry moved immediately into his arms. Draco got the sweater around them both,
and then somehow the second one, too. Then they wiggled like worms crawling
into the black trash bag like it was a sleeping bag. The plastic would help
them keep in their body heat. It would also help keep them dry from the dew
that collected in the night or if it happened to snow or rain.
It should have been funny. Two boys trapped inside one sweater and then
another, struggling to climb into a trash bag. It wasn't. Things were too
serious. They were both still hungry and even through the clothes and the
plastic, it was still cold. Every breath in froze their lungs. But it wouldn't
kill them. They'd just have to endure it.
At least until Draco thought of something better.
                                     x x x
Harry knew Draco was unhappy. It was like an itch against his skin that never
went away. He did everything he could to be helpful. He set up their meals and
tried to make them nice with the little they had. He stayed quiet and
attentive. He helped helped put their makeshift bed away in the morning once it
was warm enough to crawl out of the cocoon, but mostly he sat silently.
He watched and waited and tried to find any little thing he could do to help as
Draco sat and stared off into the woods with dark grey eyes. He'd done this in
the Hold, too. Sit for hours, just staring. It unnerved Harry, but he was
terrified of interrupting and making Draco mad. So he sat huddled and quiet and
kept watching for any little thing he could do to help.
                                     x x x
Draco thought hard.
They had money. But it was their age that was the problem. They were too little
to be able to walk around without being questioned. If they got caught, the
Lucchese Family would find them and kill them, or ignorant cops would split
them up and put them in foster care.
When he'd first been taken to the Hold, Draco had talked to the kids a little.
He'd heard all about foster care. Most of the kids in the Hold came from there.
Dumb cops assumed the kids ran away or were stolen by their birth families.
They were write-offs. No one came looking for them. And the Hold wasn't much
worse than some of the places those kids had come from.
No. Draco wouldn't let the cops get them. And he wasn't about to let the mob
get them, either. But the mob was also their only means of survival. The mob
was made up of criminals; they had connections and the means to live under the
official radar. Plus, they were caught up in messy police stuff. They shouldn't
have time to mess with Draco and Harry, but clearly the Lucchese felt
differently. So the mob wasn't a choice after all.
And that is where Draco stalled. It was a loop of no answers, no vision of
victory.
“In any case, I'm affiliated loosely with John Gotti, the Gambino Family Head.
They call him the Teflon Don because the Feds can't make charges stick. He's
your biggest ally if Amuso or Luongo come after you,”Brendon's words coming
back to him.
Could he go to John Gotti of the Gambino Family? The Gambino's territory was
based in Queens. He'd have to leave Manhattan and cross the East River. Brendon
had made him memorize the route on a map of the city just in case. It would be
a half-a-day's walk. He'd need to use the Ed Koch Queensboro Bridge Path. Not
that he knew that, since he couldn't read. He knew only the path marked out on
the map. He'd count streets and follow the yellow line Brendon had marked.
“Always be prepared, Draco.”Brendon's sharp blue eyes had stared into Draco's
for a long second before crinkling into a smile. “But I think you already know
that.”
Draco's fists clenched. So he could go to Queens and throw himself on Gotti's
mercy. But what if that mercy didn't exist?
A soft touch on his arm had him looking over. Harry was kneeling next to him,
head bowed so that they wouldn't make eye contact. The boy had half a power bar
smeared with peanut butter wrapped in a compressed piece of bread in his hand.
He also had a can of tuna fish open ready to share.
Draco blinked and realized it was almost night; the temperature was dropping.
He shook himself and offered Harry a smile. “Thanks, Harry.” He took the
offering and raised an eyebrow at the second little sandwhich Harry had made.
Ducking his head, the boy obediently ate it in three quick bites.
Draco sighed. Harry need more food than this. He needed warmth and safety.
Draco would have to try Gotti, but if things went bad, he didn't want Harry
there.
The sharp memory of Harry's screams and cries as he was raped, Harry's panicked
breathing and the burning painpainpainthrough the bond had Draco breathing hard
and almost ready to throw up. He curled around his knees and tried to breathe
through the flashback.
Harry's - anxiety worry unhappiness - grounded him as the little boy's hands
fluttered, desperate to do something, anything, to help.
“I'm okay,” Draco rasped. “Let's get some water and get in bed before it gets
too cold.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered softly, green eyes bright with worry and big in
his pale face.
Draco took his hand and led the way to the creek. Tomorrow; tomorrow he'd make
the trip to Gotti and see what their options were.
                                     x x x
“I might not be back until tomorrow morning,” he explained.
They were sitting across from each other. Draco held Harry's cold hands in his
own. He'd really struggled with the decision of leaving Harry or taking him
with him and hiding him somewhere closer to Queens. But he didn't know the area
at all. And he could move more flexibly alone. It sucked, he hated it, but he
felt Harry was safest here, hidden from the world.
Harry didn't argue. He wouldn't do that, but he stared at Draco with wide eyes,
tears rolling down his cheeks, his emotions all but screaming - unhappiness
despair fear.
Draco gently freed one hand and used his fingers to wipe Harry's face. “You did
nothing wrong. I'm not leaving ya.” His hand firmed on Harry's jaw, forcing eye
contact. “You're mine and I'm coming back. Just like I promised in the Hold.
I'll always come back to ya.”
Harry gave a low cry and reached forward. Draco pulled him into his lap and
held him. They sat like that until Harry calmed down a bit and then Draco
pulled away. He put some money in his pocket and stood as firm as he could.
“If I'm not back by dark, it means I probly won't be back 'til morning, so
don't wait up. Get in the bed like I showed ya. Eat as much as ya can of the
food. When I get back, I'll have a plan and we'll be getting food somewhere
else,” Draco ordered, staring hard into Harry's green eyes. Cause we can't keep
camping out here, he left unsaid.
Draco couldn't resist Harry's doe-eyed look. He crouched and gently cupped
Harry's face. Their lips, cold and chapped slid together roughly. Draco licked
and sucked until they were warm and wet. Grinning, he pulled away, gave one
last look to the flushed little boy and started his trip.
                                     x x x
Harry watched Draco leave, and in spite of it being a sunny morning, it felt as
if all the light in the woods was leaving, too. Things grew dimmer once the
blond was out of sight. Harry felt smaller, colder. Crying, he gathered the
sweaters, tugged them on, and wiggled back into the trash bag. He curled up
there, shivering. Green eyes staring blankly, he felt the dusty cupboard close
in around him...
… something tickled his arm. Instinct made him yelp and swat it away. Heart
hammering, he calmed and felt hot guilt puddle in his empty stomach. He'd hurt
it, the spider. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm sorry.” He said it again and
again, arms tight around his burning belly. But he was alone...
Breakfast. Cooking the eggs, watching the bacon. The smell. It made him drool
and he kept having to suck and swallow and it made his head dizzy, but he
couldn't mess up! Had to focus. He turned too fast, wobbled on the stool. Aunt
reached out to steady him and Harry looked up with wide eyes, already crying.
Her face was twisted in disgust and she looked at her hand as if it were
crawling with bugs. “Filthy freak! Can't even do simple things! Might as well
throw you out in the trash! Disgusting thing!” She scrubbed and scrubbed her
hands at the sink, hot steam rising from the water, her hands turning pink, the
harsh smell of soap rising above the food. “Don't look at me, Freak! Get in
your cupboard! I can't stand the sight of you!”
Sobbing, scratching his arm where she touched him, he slunk into the dark
cupboard and pulled the door shut behind him...
Working in the flowerbeds outside. Women walking in front of the house. Keeping
his head ducked, but unable not to look. The way they whispered and stared and
pointed. The looks on their faces. Even they could see it. He was nothing. He
was Freak...
Uncle passing him off and walking away without a backward glance. Trash. He was
trash... A dog crate. The roar and pressure of massive engines, the pitch
darkness. The terror, the constant terror, and being so alone, knowing he was
trash, unwanted, disgusting. Knowing it...
He was supposed to be adopted. Going to a mum and dad, Draco had said, but they
must have seen him. Saw him and knew he was a Freak. They didn't want him. So
they took his picture to see if anyone else wanted him. But it was okay. Okay
because suddenly there was a Draco...
Draco with silver eyes who looked at him. Draco saw him. He wanted him. He
wanted a Freak and even called him Harry. Like he was a boy, not trash.
Draco... Draco hurt and Harry was somehow able to help him. He was able to
help! Only Draco touched him. Made his skin sing. Made it feel so good.
Draco... Draco... Draco...
Draco was gone. And no one had wanted him. The men who looked at the kids. They
all flinched away from Harry. They saw him, saw his skin, his face and eyes.
They saw him. Harry saw it so clearly. The knowledge in their faces. He was
Freak. He was trash, disgusting, nothing. So why? Why did Draco want him?
Harry didn't know why, wouldn't ever understand, but Draco wanted him. Held
him, touched him, kissed him. Took all of him and made him Draco's. And Draco
was gone.
Harry was weak. He couldn't help Draco. Not when it had happened. Not when they
came. They called Harry names. Took Draco away and hurt Harry... because Harry
was trash! That's what you did with Freaks. Hurt and hate Freaks...
But Draco still wanted him. Why? Why did Draco want him? Dirty disgusting
Freak. Draco took him to a safe place, to Brendon, but Draco got hurt. Hurt so
bad! He got shot in the shoulder. Blood everywhere! His back... The skin was
gone! Bone and muscle and blood blood blood. But Draco still said, “Harry
first.” Harry first then Draco. Why, Draco?
Draco so hurt in the Hold. Always hurt. Always coming back to Harry. Promised.
A promise to a disgusting Freak. Why? Why? …
Freak remembered. The pain in his shoulder and arm as Uncle held him so tight.
Held him so their faces were close together. The smell, sharp and ugly from
Uncle's breath. The red face and harsh blue eyes. “You're a curse, Freak. A
curse. You'll always be a curse, and the people around you are always going to
be the ones to suffer. You should have died with your disgusting parents. The
world would be a better place without you in it. It doesn't need a freak like
you.” ...
Draco always hurt. The BANG! and Brendon ... terror horror ... Brendon was
broken. Was this the curse? Was Harry doing all this? Was it his fault?
He couldn't take it. Scrambling out of the trash bag, he got to his feet
panting. It was getting dark. The sun was setting. The woods were draped with
fog and grey shadows and Draco was gone. Gone and not coming back. There were
no Draco's for Freaks. It was impossible. And maybe that was a good thing. He
was a curse and Draco would keep bleeding if he was around.
Head tilting back, Harry howled, grief and insanity pouring from him in a
piercing cry of pain. He sobbed and cried and screamed. But still there was no
Draco.
He was alone.
Chapter end.
A/N:I actually made myself tear up at that last bit. It was very emotional for
me to write. I hope I was able to touch the heart of the reader as well.
I'm kind of torn.How long should the separation last?
 
***** Brothers *****
                                   Brothers
Liam opened his eyes to a bedroom flooded with afternoon light, the phone
ringing in the kitchen. He staggered naked out of bed and made it before the
fourth ring. “Yeah?” he demanded, gruff.
“Boss wants you here. Pronto.”
With a groan, he hung up the phone and made his way back to the bedroom.
Pillows were strewn across the floor and his sheets were hanging half off the
bed. His head had the same foggy heaviness he felt every time he drank too
much. Women's perfume hung in the air, making his nose twitch and his stomach
roll. A naked blonde with frizzed out hair lay sound asleep, drooling on the
last remaining pillow on the bed. He went and shook her shoulder.
“Doll, time for you to go.”
Big brown eyes fluttered open and the woman smiled. Her teeth were crooked, but
otherwise she was okay looking. “Morning, handsome,” she purred with a sleep-
roughened voice.
Liam almost rolled his eyes. She probably didn't even know his name. “I got
work.”
“Oh. Okay.” She sat up, her small breasts swaying as she did, the nipples fat
and perky. Alright, she wasn't so bad.
He flashed her a big grin. “Maybe I'll call you. Write your number down for
me.”
She giggled. “Sure thing.”
Then they were both up and chasing down her clothes. He gave her a kiss with
tongue to remember him by and closed the door on her.
After a quick bowl of cereal, a large cup of coffee, a hot shower, and clean
clothes, Liam felt new again. He strode down the steps of his apartment and hit
the street. His car was parked half a block down, a nice Lexus. Coffee in hand,
he drove toward the higher-end neighborhoods and arrived at John Gotti's place
exactly thirty-five minutes after hanging up the phone.
A security guard opened the front gate, allowing Liam to drive through. His
tires crunched on gravel as he pulled up to the front door. A maid greeted him,
giving Liam a shy smile. He flashed her a charming grin, but he knew better
than to make it serious. His boss would have his skin if he started messing
with the staff. Gotti was always saying good staff was hard to come by.
“Liam!”
A cheerful call of his name drew his attention to the marble staircase that
descended into the entrance area. Angela was a gorgeous dark-haired, dark-eyed
woman in her early twenties. She was Gotti's eldest daughter, another girl out
of bounds, not that Angela seemed to know it.
Liam gave her a neutral smile and accepted her hug. “How's it going this
morning, princess?” he asked, carefully stepping away so no one got the wrong
idea.
“Papa's in a mood,” she answered with knowing look. Smart as hell as well as
gorgeous, she was a dangerous woman. “The Lucchese.”
Liam tensed as his fists involuntarily clenched shut. The Lucchese. He'd
personally asked Gotti to be the one to do the hits when the time was right.
Maybe it was time. He stared into Angela's eyes, looking for an answer, but all
she said was, “He's waiting for you in the study.”
He nodded and strode toward the left. The house was massive and made of marble,
crystal, and hardwood; it cost millions. The study was massive. It had big
windows that looked out on a good-sized yard and garden that was enclosed by
tall brick walls covered with dark ivy. The room itself had dark red carpet, an
enormous desk, some book cases, a few armchairs, and an old redwood bar.
Gotti was sitting behind his desk in a throne-like chair. He was wearing a
black suit, his fleshy face holding a solemn expression. He didn't greet Liam
when he walked in like he normally would, so Liam went on alert. He stepped
closer and became aware that there was another person in the room.
A child, no older than five or six, was sitting in the padded armchair facing
the desk. His sneakered feet dangled, inches from touching the floor. He had
oily, straight blond hair that fell across half his face. A single grey eye
stared unblinking back at him. The boy's expression was as stone-faced as
Gotti's. His mouth was busted and a bruise peeked out from his hairline at his
temple. He was thin and underfed. His clothes looked slept in and dirty.
Liam took a slow breath, knowing exactly who this kid was, but he couldn't let
the boss know it.
That grey eye narrowed suspiciously. A pale hand rose and hooked his bangs
behind his ear so that the kid could look at him unobstructed. Those cold eyes
swept Liam up and down. There was a look of slight confusion on the child's
face when the quick examination ended.
“This is Draco. He says he was there the night the club got hit,” Gotti
explained.
Liam came to a stop next to the desk, his hip resting against the edge as he
faced the kid. His hands fisted to hide the slight tremble in his fingers.
“My boys called me from the pizza parlor. Kid walked in and demanded to talk to
me personally,” Gotti continued, amusement thick in his deep voice. “Was about
to get the boot when he claimed bold as day that Brendon O'Shea sent him.”
Liam felt his chest tighten but managed to say, “Can you tell us what
happened?” He needed to know what happened that night. The Lucchese were
claiming it was a hit from another Family that targeted them both the Gambino
as well as the Lucchese. Or that it was Brendon who took out Luongo and he died
when Luongo's boys retaliated. It was bullshit. All of it. But Gotti couldn't
move without proof. Especially now when there were feds everywhere.
“You want to speak with me, you start with this,” Gotti added, staring the boy
down. He leaned back in his chair, hands folded over his slightly rounded
belly, certain that things would go as he wanted it to.
The boy looked back and forth between them before settling on Liam. “It was
'bout nine when I got back to the apartment. Luongo was there with three thugs.
Two were in the room, the last came up the stairs at my back. Luongo was on the
couch with Brendon. Had a gun to 'is head.”
Draco's voice was low but steady. There was not a flicker to show it bothered
him to talk about the traumatic night. Liam hadn't been there and he wasn't
five years old and yet the story made his heart beat faster and adrenaline
surge in his blood. Draco had nerves of steel, but if what Brendon had said was
true, then it wasn't all that surprising the kid was tough as nails.
“Said he was there 'cause Brendon stole me. Came to get me back. Called me a
schiavo. Had me take my clothes off and beg. Brendon said he didn't steal me. I
ran away from Raymond on my own, called 'im a few days later. Finder's keepers.
Luongo called 'em an Irish cagna. Thought Brendon acted too big.” Those grey
eyes locked onto Liam's. Gravely, he said, “Luongo shot 'im in the head.”
“Fuck,” Liam muttered hotly and slammed his fist down on the desk before
turning his back on the kid. “Fuck.”
Gotti cast Liam a hard glance before looking back at the child. “What happened
after?”
Liam stared out at the grounds as the boy's voice went on, thinking, If the
stupid kid hadn't called Brendon... If he hadn't gotten Brendon involved...
he'd still be alive...
“Luongo took me down ta the basement. To play. Then I killed 'em.”
Liam spun around, eyes wide. “What?”
The kid didn't blink. He looked back with a blank expression. “I killed 'em
all. Got myself together and went back upstairs. Took a few things and took
off.” He shrugged. “Still a kid. Thought I'd see what my options were before
making any decisions. Brendon said ta come to Gotti if Luongo came after me.”
The kid was like ice, practical and emotionless, and Liam felt red in the face
with rage, but there was something in the kid's eyes when he mentioned Brendon
that held his temper at bay. Gotti spoke into the silence.
“How exactly did you kill them?”
Draco's expression grew even more closed off. His hair fell from behind his ear
once more, sliding across half the kid's face like a concealing curtain. “You
saw.”
Gotti lifted his hand, stopping Liam's forward motion. “We saw, but we'd like
some details.”
“You gonna try an' keep me here? You gonna hurt me?” the boy demanded.
“You will stay until we're satisfied,” Gotti answered honestly. “After that,
we'll see.”
“You can't keep me here if I don't wanna be here,” Draco promised, and Liam
believed him because anger was breaking through the boy's icy composure. The
eyes began to look more silver than grey as the kid glared at them. “Why should
I tell ya anything? Brendon said to come here. Said you'd help me out.”
“I need to understand what happened,” Liam told the kid, voice rough and hoarse
with emotion. “All of it. Or I can't bring the Lucchese to justice. My brother
died protecting you. It's the least you can do.”
Draco stared at him, his anger draining away into that cold mask once more. For
a long moment they just stared at each other, and then the boy began to speak
again.
“I'm good with poison. Real good.” Those silvered-eyes flashed to Gotti for a
second before returning to Liam. “Raymond kept me for a year 'til I had enough.
Brendon was there to buy. I killed Raymond just like I killed Luongo and the
others. Brendon laughed. Called out his name. I hit the streets. Kept to the
alleys, but it was cold. I didn't have no clothes. A homeless guy gave me a
sweatshirt, but I couldn't make it. Had him help me look for Brendon's name in
the phonebook. Called all the Brendon O'Shea's 'til he answered. He picked me
up. Tol' me I could stay with 'em if I cleaned the basement. Then that bastard
Luongo came. Killed Brendon like I said.” A dark grin stretched the kid's face.
“So I killed him. For taking Brendon. For what he did to me. I killed them
all.” The grin morphed into a dead-serious expression, and again he looked to
Gotti. “That's why ya can't keep me here.”
Gotti steepled his fingers in front of his face. “That a threat?”
The kid shook his head and gave another shrug. “I don't wanna hurt ya, but I
won't be kept here.” Those eyes shifted back to Liam. It was really starting to
bug him that a child that young could look that hard. “I didn't get Brendon
killed. If yer really his brother, ya know that. You know what Brendon was.
Can't force someone like Brendon to do anything ever.”
Suddenly Liam was laughing, even as a few tears spilled down his cheeks. “Damn
straight, kid.” Brendon hadn't been the easiest older brother to have. He'd
constantly take it for granted that Liam would follow, and it had led to many
acts of rebellion, but Brendon had taken care of him. They'd had the same
history; they'd been brothers. “Shit,” he cursed quietly, forcing his emotions
under control. Brendon may have told the kid to come to Gotti, but it was
really Liam he was sending the boy to. It was just like his brother to boss him
around even in death.
“I told ya what ya wan'ed to know. Now let me go,” the boy was saying to Gotti.
“Where's a kid like you going to go?” Gotti responded, amused once more.
“Not yer problem,” the kid answered flatly.
Liam's hand fisted once more. He looked up and met Gotti's eyes. “I want him.”
Gotti met his gaze for a long moment before he looked back to the kid. “In
honor of Liam's service to the Family, I will grant you protection as a member
of this Family and not as a slave. I hope you appreciate the advantages this
will bring you.” The boss's eyes hardened to show the core of strength that
made him the leader of a very successful crime Family. “Stay in his custody,
Draco, or I will have you hunted down as a slave once more. We clear?”
Liam felt his heart pound. He knew he'd gotten his way only due to three
things. One, Gotti had lost his twelve-year-old son to an accident a few years
ago and had a soft spot for tough little boys. Two, Liam had saved Gotti's life
twice this year as his bodyguard. Three, the kid was a self-pronounced
assassin; he might be useful later. After all, who would suspect a kid? So
Brendon had gotten his way when he'd sent Draco here, but holy shit what had
Liam just gotten himself into? He was only twenty-two years old! He had no idea
what to do with a kid, let alone a messed up kid like this one.
Clearing his throat, he moved toward the door. “Come on. I'll take you to my
place.”
The boy stared Gotti down for a long moment before scooting to the edge of the
chair and dropping to his feet. He followed Liam out of the room and down the
hallway without looking back or speaking a word. Liam felt hot under the
collar, his palms sweating. They passed through the entrance way and, as soon
as it was clear that Liam was heading toward the Lexus, Draco moved toward the
front passenger seat.
Liam glanced at the stone-faced kid as he put the car in gear and began to pull
away. “You're not gonna stick with me, are you?”
Grey eyes stared at him blankly.
Liam's hands tightened around the steering wheel and he stared out at the road.
“Look. I didn't tell Gotti, but my brother told me about you. I know you're
like him, so I know you hate being bossed around, but the fact is, you're a
kid, and you're gonna need help for at least a few years because the world
ain't gonna care that you're a little boss on the inside. They're just gonna
see a kid.”
He risked a quick glance. The boy was still watching him unblinking. Liam
cleared his throat again. “People might think you're obeying Gotti's order, but
we'll know the truth. If you stay, it's cause you want to. We wouldn't be able
to find you, and anyone who does, you can ghost with your poisons. You might
not get it, but Brendon... He was my brother. I grew up with that hard-ass. He
knew I'd understand you at least a little, and he wanted me to help you, so I
wanna do that. For him.”
Another glance showed him the kid was looking out the front windshield. He
looked thoughtful. Liam pressed on. “I got no clue what to do with a kid. More
a love 'em and leave 'em type, not a family man. I'm not gonna boss you around
or anything. I'll leave you alone for the most part. I just wanna give you a
home base to work from. I mean, there will have'ta be some rules, so we can
both live with each other. Hard ones that mean deal breakers on either side,
and soft ones that are open to negotiation. How's that sound?”
“And Gotti?” Those grey eyes were on him again, assessing.
Liam leveled with him. He knew lies would equal the kid disappearing. “I work
for him. He pays my check, and I'm loyal. It's a good job for a crazy slacker
like me. As for you, he heard what you said. He might demand a job or two, but
mostly he's gonna leave you alone. Truth is his son was killed a few years
back. Frank was just a kid when it happened. He's gonna give you more leeway
than you think.”
Draco looked out the window again, not saying whether he was staying or not.
Liam turned on the radio. He figured he'd done the best he could. Whatever the
kid decided, it was up to Draco. The drive seemed to take forever and lasted a
second at the same time. He found a parking spot and locked up the car. His
heart thundered in his chest. He had no idea why he cared so damn much, but it
was a huge relief to hear Draco's footsteps behind him. He unlocked the front
door to the apartment building and went up three flights of stairs to room 313.
He held the door open for the boy.
Draco stepped in, hands shoved in his pockets. He glanced into the kitchen,
circled the messy living room, opened the bathroom door, and went into the only
bedroom. It was a small place, so it didn't take the boy more than a few
minutes to scout the layout. Liam stood by the door, waiting for the kid's
final verdict.
Draco came to a stop in front of him. He ran his eyes up and down Liam's body
one more time before settling on his eyes. “You have Brendon's eyes,” he said
casually.
Liam swallowed and gave a stiff nod. “Yeah.”
“This place ain't big,” the kid continued.
“No,” Liam agreed. “I guess I'll start looking for a two-bedroom. If you stay.”
He'd thought the kid's eyes had gotten as sharp as they could during the
meeting with Gotti, but suddenly they were like lasers piercing into Liam's
soul. “Brendon told you 'bout me.”
Liam nodded. “Yeah. And I didn't tell Gotti about that or that there was anyone
else in the club when everything went down.”
Those grey eyes narrowed. “He told you 'bout just me?”
Liam carefully shook his head. “He told me you were taking care of someone.
You've been careful not to mention it, so...”
Draco sighed, sending his long bangs forward on the harsh puff of air. He
uncrossed his arms, but he didn't relax completely. “I got a boy,” he
confirmed. “He's smaller than me. I left 'em somewhere safe. Didn't know what
would happen with Gotti.”
“You want me to take you to get him?” Liam offered.
“He's got nothin' to do with you or Gotti,” Draco demanded, pointing a sharp
little finger at Liam's chest. “Clear? That changes and I'm outta here.” His
eyes glared hotly. “It's a hard rule.”
Liam suddenly remembered in vivid detail Brendon standing in the entrance of
the group home that they'd been sent to and telling the adults and kids alike
in a clear and uncompromising voice, Mess with my brother, mess with me.
Brendon had been fourteen at the time and Liam only ten. It was a good memory.
“Okay,” he answered firmly. “Hard rule. Got it.”
Draco sighed and seemed to deflate some. For the first time since he laid eyes
on the boy, he actually looked like the tired, dirty, lost kid he was. A small
fist rubbed at the boy's eyes. “Maybe we should wait 'til dark to get Harry. So
no one sees him.” His hand dropped and he looked up at Liam, exhaustion etched
on his small features. “I'm thirsty.”
Liam felt his cheeks heat, already feeling like a failure. “Go sit down on the
couch. I'll make us something.”
He brought Draco a glass of juice and then went to the kitchen to make quick
sandwiches. It would be dark in a couple of hours. They didn't have long to
wait. The phone rang just as he was finishing. He glanced at Draco to see the
little boy watching him solemnly from the couch. He sat so still and silent,
holding the clear glass in both hands, blond hair hooked behind his ears. His
face was still busted and dirt smudged. His jacket had been tossed over the
arm, and the dark blue sweater he wore fell almost to his fingertips. It made
him look even smaller somehow.
Liam looked away as he answered the call. “Hello?”
“How are you settling in?” Gotti asked.
“Fine,” Liam glanced again toward the child sitting in his living room. “No
problems.”
“Good.” There was a small pause. “I'm going to give you this week off. Get
comfortable with the boy. If at the end you think he'll run, we'll come up with
something else. And, Liam, you lose him, you'll take his place as a Gambino
schiavo. Capiche?”
“Yeah, I understand.” Liam hung up the phone and met the grey eyes watching
him. “Gotti. Saying I lose you, I'll become a slave in your place. Gave me the
week off to get you settled.”
Draco looked back toward the tv Liam had switched on, saying nothing.
Liam sighed and brought over the two plates he'd put together. It was going to
be a long week.
The sandwiches were eaten in silence and they watched one and a half episodes
of Alf before he dared speak up. “So why are you staying?” He didn't look at
the kid when he asked, afraid to scare him off from answering.
“Brendon... He never betrayed us. I... I want to trust him.” A short pause. “
'Sides, I need help at least until the world doesn't see a kid when they look
at me.”
As the hours passed, the stillness in Draco disappeared. The boy began to shift
his weight, a frown creasing his brow. Liam cast him a look to see the kid
rubbing fisted knuckles over his sternum. Caught looking, Draco met his stare
head-on.
“Let's go. By the time we get back, it'll be full dark.”
Liam lifted an eyebrow. “Where'd you leave the kid?”
“Central Park.”
“Shit,” Liam cursed as he got up.
They bundled up in their jackets once more and quickly headed downstairs to the
car. As they made their way to Manhattan, traffic was normal, that was to say,
bad. During the trip Draco glared at the cars in front of them as if he had
heat vision and could make them disappear if he tried hard enough. Liam tried
to shake it off, but the kid's tension was contagious.
Just under an hour later, he found a good parking place less than a block away.
He didn't expect Draco to bolt out of the car the second he put it in park.
“Hey! Wait!”
Cursing like a sailor, Gotti's threats booming through his head, Liam ran after
the kid. The dark clothes the boy wore blended seamlessly in with the shadows,
but the shock of pale blond hair made Draco easy to spot. He was a quick
bastard, though. Liam was in good shape and he still couldn't catch the brat.
They were heading toward the Ravine. The ground became rocky and uneven, and as
he chased after Draco, a sound slowly registered. It made the hair along his
arms stand on end. At first it sounded like the howl of some animal, but it
slowly grew into the wailing screams of a child. But it wasn't normal crying.
It was a soul-shattering sound that made him want to run from whatever had
caused those horrific screams.
He came skidding across dead leaves and dirt, tumbled down an incline, and
almost brained himself on a low hanging tree branch in the dark when the
screams abruptly cut off. Momentum kept him moving forward as his eyes slowly
adjusted to the dark. He pushed some more tree branches out of his way and came
to a small sheltered area surrounded by rocks.
Draco was kneeling on the ground, his arms wrapped around a smaller boy with a
head of dark, messy hair. The dark-haired boy was sobbing as if his heart was
broken, huge gasping cries, face smeared with tears and snot. Draco spoke to
him, his voice urgent but too low to make out the words. His hands pet and
stroked the other child as he rained kisses all over the boy's face in between
muttered words. Then the boys were making out.
Liam froze, just completely froze. First of all, the kids were young,
practically babies! Second, they were both boys! Okay, maybe the boy part
didn't matter so much since they were like kindergarten young. They couldn't
seriously have those kinds of feelings yet, right?
The kids toppled, Draco on top of the other one. Soft moans could be heard and
the soft sucking noises of french kissing. Holy shit! Hands shaking, breathless
from his sprint, Liam just stood dumbly and watched.
“Mine,” Draco's voice lifted enough for Liam to hear. “Yer mine, Harry. You
gave me everything, and I'm not givin' it back.”
“Draco,” the boy underneath the blond whimpered, still distraught. “Draco...
shouldn't. Freak, bad... Draco... Draco, why? Cursed, I'm cursed!” The last was
a scream of utter grief. “Brendon... blood! Your blood!”
The clouds shifted and Liam suddenly had a clear view of the madness in the
younger child's face. The boy's eyes were wide and tormented. It made Liam's
chest burn fiercely, but also made him want to run away. He had no idea how to
deal with such insanity.
Draco's voice cut through the other boy's sobs like a knife. “It's not yer
place ta understand, Harry,” he growled, the cold clarity of his voice hard and
dangerous. “Only to trust. Trust in me.”
The boy let loose a keening wail of despair. “Sorry! Sorry Draco sorry so sorry
please Draco sorry!”
At first Liam didn't know what he was seeing. All of a sudden the terrible
sounds the smaller boy was making were cut off by a gasp. Draco was crouched
over the broken kid, his head moving slowly from one place to another. The boy
gasped again and arched slightly off the ground. Clouds parted once more and
Liam saw crescent teeth marks etched in blood as Draco lift his mouth from the
boy's wrist.
Liam began to protest when he noticed the other little boy had gone limp. Tears
were still streaking down the kid's face, but there was a look of such wonder
there that it made Liam hesitate. Hand, wrist, shoulder, neck, opposite
shoulder, wrist, other hand. Left hip, then the right; thighs and ankles. The
boy flinched a few times, but otherwise he remained limp and still. The
wondrous expression never left his face even when he whimpered or gasped with
pain. Each bite drew blood; each would undoubtedly leave bruises.
And then back up to the boy's face. Draco took the boy's lower lip between his
teeth and bit down hard. When he finished and lifted up onto all fours, the
boy's eyes never left the blond's face. “Yer mine. All of you. Mine.” It was
said as a promise, gentle and sweet. “For always.”
“Draco,” the boy sighed, eyes fluttering closed. A smile curled the bitten
child's mouth, blood trailing down his chin from his lip.
Draco shifted and sat up, pulling the boy's head gently into his lap where he
resumed petting the kid's hair.
Liam knew his mouth was hanging open. There was so much wrong with everything
he'd seen that he could hardly absorb it all. It was like a twisted dream that
he fully expected to wake up from any minute, but he didn't. Draco continued to
sit there complacent and calm as he met Liam's shocked gaze unflinching.
“What the fuck?” Liam finally sputtered.
Draco shrugged. “He needed it,” he answered. “I'd do anything for Harry.” Those
eyes gleamed silver and Liam shivered at the intense look in them. “Anything.”
It really hit Liam then. He'd thought he understood in Gotti's study how fucked
up this kid was, but he didn't and he likely never would. Only someone who'd
been through it could truly understand. These boys were kids, but they'd also
been slaves. Their bodies had been used and broken, their very spirits twisted.
They'd seen death and committed murder. They'd had to survive in a world Liam
could hardly imagine, and his own childhood hadn't been roses and puppies,
either. He'd have to accept the result or walk away because he had no business
messing with them now that they'd managed to get free.
He was ashamed at how tempted he was to leave them. It was just so damn fucked
up. It was hard to look right at the evidence reality had left on the boys. A
reality that Liam had contributed to with his own hands and choices. How many
times had he picked up kids and women for the men on Gotti's payroll as rewards
or incentives? How many pounds of dugs had he sold and pushed? How many people
had he beaten or killed? How dare he turn away, too much of a coward to see
what his world had wrought? Liam felt dark self-hatred well in his gut. Brendon
had faced these kids head on and trusted Liam to do the same.
He turned away, afraid Draco would see his many sins. “Let's get back,” he
rasped, shaking.
There was a rustling sound and low murmurs as the boys slowly got to their
feet. Liam was directed to a crevice in one of the rock walls and he pulled out
a large duffle and backpack. He shouldered both and followed behind the two
little boys.
They walked hand-in-hand, leaning toward each other, perfectly in sync.
Exhaustion hung heavy around them, but there was also an obvious contentment.
It may be fucked up, but Liam could only be deeply grateful that the boys had
found some peace among the ruin that had been their lives.
Chapter end.
A/N: I wrote this chapter three times, each time changing the POV. In the end,
I preferred it from Liam's POV the whole way through. Do you think I made the
right choice?
 
***** Home *****
                                     Home
Harry was lost in a whirlpool of despair, the ground crumbling away from his
feet. The woods literally tilted and swayed in his vision. Cracks appeared in
the world around him and words screamed out of the depths, spewing the horrible
truth - Freak Cursed Unwanted Burden Alone.
And then Draco was there. Holding him together even as it felt like he was
coming apart chunks at a time, spilling darkness from his very soul. His skin
felt slimy. He wanted to climb out of it and disappear forever, but Draco held
him, claimed him, and a new sense of failure drenched Harry in acid on top of
the - guilt fear self-hate despair -that already consumed him. He had failed
Draco! He had doubted him.
Pain slashed through the tumult. It silenced the screams. Tree branches and a
cloudy night sky came into view. The world steadied. More pain. Crying, he
turned his head to see Draco. The blond was punishing him. Harry gasped as
another bite tore his skin. It hurt! Hurt so much, and Harry trembled in
relief.
Yes! Draco!
The darkness bled free of his body and slowly he became Draco's once more. His
hands, wrists, shoulders, and neck throbbed hotly, the pain intense. Draco
pushed up his shirts, sweater, and jacket, revealing his lower stomach. Harry
held his breath as those teeth bit viciously down above his hip bone. He arched
with a gasp, tears and blood falling, washing him clean.
Yours, I'm yours Draco, make it all go away, love you, Draco, yours please...
Slight pressure on his thighs and Harry spread them without hesitation even as
everything burned. Draco bit him hard straight through his jeans on the soft
part of his inner thigh. The sharp pinch hurt worse than the others and Harry
gave a little whine, thighs opening further, giving Draco more room.
He was trembling, shaking. He knew what was coming as Draco turned his head and
did the same to the other side. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and forced his
body to go even more limp. He was Draco's. Everything would be okay if he
belonged to Draco. Draco was the light. Draco was real.
Harry hardly felt the last two bites to his ankles. Then Draco was there, face
inches from his own. Sobbing, desperate, he stared into Draco's silver eyes as
the blond bent and took his bottom lip between his teeth. He bit down and Harry
felt the world explode as the pain transmuted into a pleasure so great it set
him on fire. With a gasp, he sank into the pain, sank into Draco, letting the
blond infold him completely.
After a time of hazy bliss, Draco shook him, telling him they had to go. Dizzy,
weak, he got to his feet feeling like jelly. Warm blood coated his skin, the
bites throbbed as he clung to Draco's hand. He put one foot in front of the
other as they made their way through the dark, fog-shrouded woods. The pain
anchored him, kept him from falling back into the darkness. With trembling
fingers, he touched his hip. The bite was sharp and real. Draco was real, and
he was Draco's.
- happy peace love gratitude -
Draco's hand tightened around his and Harry looked to see those silver eyes
watching him. The blond gave him a smile and Harry felt warm all the way
through. * It's okay, Harry. Everything's all right. You're mine. I've got you.
*
Harry smiled tearfully and leaned into Draco's warmth. “Yours,” he whispered,
lip thick and throbbing. “Yours.”
                                      xxx
Once they had gotten back to the apartment, they had been given the bedroom,
Liam saying he was fine with the couch. It was morning. The bedroom window had
no curtains and revealed an overcast day. The walls were white. The bed had no
head or baseboard; it sat on a frame and was pressed into the corner of the
room. The sheets were cheap against their naked skin, the comforter a plain
blue, and the pillows were flat. There was a wooden dresser with clothes
peeking out of the almost shut drawers. Items were scattered carelessly on top;
watches, rings, a lamp, a few paperback books. Last, there was a closet with a
cracked-mirrored door. It wasn't nearly as nice as Brendon's place.
Draco stretched and looked beside him. His arm was numb where Harry was curled
around it, head pillowed on his shoulder. He felt a pang of love so strong it
nearly brought tears to his eyes. The boy had felt such pain that he hadn't
even been able to hear Draco when he'd yelled straight into his mind. It had
been beyond horrific, and Draco was determined to make sure Harry never felt
like that again.
Those beautiful green eyes fluttered open, and he gave Harry a warm smile as he
continued running his fingers through the boy's messy hair. Harry gave a sweet
smile back, his bottom lip splitting again and beginning to bleed. Draco gently
touched the cuts with his fingertips before fisting the boy's hair and bringing
Harry up to meet his mouth. The kiss was long and languid, the taste of Harry's
blood – the symbol of absolute trust – made Draco shiver in pleasure.
Eventually, he released his hold on Harry's hair, and Harry lifted his head and
saw for the first time the damage to Draco's face. He gasped. The bruises had
darkened to black and purple, so it was no wonder Harry was distressed at
seeing them. Draco knew without being asked what Harry wanted.
“Yes, you may. And I want ya to heal yer mouth, too. But the rest...” He
brushed his fingers over the bruised and scabbed bite on Harry's neck. “Those
stay. To remind you yer mine.”
“Draco!” Harry gave a happy cry and wrapped Draco in a tight hug – joy
gratitude love.
Draco held him just as tightly, feeling protective, but then Harry was pulling
away. His lips and tongue slid across Draco's skin. The boy sucked lovingly at
the bruise on his temple for a few moments before leaving a warm, wet trail as
he moved to Draco's jaw and mouth. Feeling cherished, he groaned as Harry's
lips skimmed down his neck, over his shoulder, and began to suck at the bruise
on his upper arm where Luongo had grabbed him.
Humming, warmth lapping gently at his limbs, Draco scratched gently at Harry's
scalp. He felt like he was being held by sunbeams. The bond practically
vibrated with– lovelovelovelove; it was a never-ending song. Purring, he arched
into Harry's touch as the boy left his arm and dragged his hands down his
chest, stomach, and thighs. Settling between his legs, Harry began to suck at
his torn knees. Draco twisted the sheets under his hands as he gave a long, low
moan of pleasure.
It seemed to go on for an eternity. Heat and love flowed freely between them
until they were both panting and wet with sweat. When it was finished, Draco
held Harry to his chest, leaving little kisses over his eyes and nose, Harry
giggling and squirming in his arms.
The peaceful moment ended when a knock sounded at the door. “It's almost noon.
You guys gonna come out and eat?”
“Give us a minute!” Draco called back. He looked down and framed Harry's face
in his hands. He gave the boy a quick kiss before leaving the bed. “We're with
Brendon's brother,” he explained as he got some clothes from the duffle for
them both. “You can talk to 'em if you want, but ya don't gotta listen. You
only gotta do what I say, understand?” he demanded, helping Harry pull on a
shirt.
Harry met his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Draco. Yours.”
Draco grinned and ruffled the boy's hair. “That's right.” Taking Harry by the
hand, he opened the bedroom door and stepped into the living room.
Liam was in the kitchen, hip leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms
crossed over his chest. There was the smell of cooking food in the air. “Go sit
down. I'll bring you a plate.”
Draco towed Harry to the couch and sat; Liam followed them with the food.
“Breakfast is served,” he said cheerfully and handed them two plates of
scrambled eggs with bacon.
Harry took the offering, head bowed to hide behind his bangs.
Draco met Liam's stare and offered a polite, “Thanks.”
Liam gave an awkward shrug and went back to the kitchen to clean up.
Draco ate a little more than half before handing his plate to Harry. The boy
had already eaten everything on his. He opened his mouth to protest, but Draco
narrowed his eyes and the boy quickly took it and began to eat. Liam came and
sat on the far end of the couch next to Draco and slouched down against the
corner. Draco eyed him.
Liam had the exact same eyes as Brendon, the shape, color, everything. It was
weird. Especially since he didn't have the same mentality behind those eyes. He
was more flexible, more emotional. Their facial features were similar, too, but
Liam was smaller than his brother, more lean with whipcord muscle, his features
a little more narrow and sharp. Where Brendon had dark brown hair, Liam had
black, and it was wavy, falling to his shoulders while Brendon had kept his
short.
Today Liam wore a black muscle shirt with a single gold chain around his neck,
a matching gold watch, and dark blue jeans. Heavy combat boots were on his
feet, the laces untied. Draco wanted to be suspicious of the man, and he was,
but at the same time Liam reminded him of Brendon. It was hard not to believe
in a person who died protecting you, and Brendon had entrusted them to Liam.
Like his older brother, he was offering Draco a safe place until he could fend
for himself. However, unlike with Brendon, their safety had strings. Strings
with Gotti's hands on them.
Liam may be loyal to Gotti, but from Draco's perspective the man was no
different from Raymond or Luongo. He was a filthy thug. Draco had no interest
in serving him, and he wanted Harry far out of reach of guys like that.
However, they had nowhere else to go. Liam was right. He needed a few years,
just a few, before he could support Harry on his own.
“What's the plan?” he finally asked.
Liam slanted him a glance and gave a sigh before slouching further down into
the couch. “Brendon left me everything, so I have money. We can start looking
for a bigger place. It's too late in the year to try and get you in school.
We'll wait until August to do that.” He lifted a hand to rub at his eyes. “Not
sure if I'm going to keep the club or not. Don't know how to run it, really.
Still, if I sell, it's gotta be to the right person. Brendon loved that place.”
His hand dropped and he stared up at the ceiling. “Said it was the only place
in the city people like him could truly be free and accepted.”
Draco saw Harry had finished eating. He nudged the boy gently with his
shoulder. “Go wash up.”
Harry smiled happily and hurried into the kitchen.
“You know that's not normal, right?” Liam asked softly.
Draco's eyes snapped up and narrowed dangerously.
Liam lifted his hands. “I'm not interfering. I'm just saying. If you're going
to try and blend, you might want to think about it, is all.”
“Let me worry 'bout that,” Draco answered stiffly. “How're we gonna look for a
new place?”
Liam shrugged and sat up, stretching in the same way Brendon had. “I'm gonna
talk to an agent. You coming?”
Draco nodded.
As Liam got ready to go, Draco came up to Harry and gave him a hug from behind
and a quick kiss on the cheek. “We're goin' out. We'll be back by dinner, 'kay?
Have somethin' ready for us ta eat.”
Harry grinned, almost elbow deep in warm soapy water. “Okay!” - love trust
happy.
“Don't let no one know yer here, and don't open the door fer anyone.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered solemnly.
Draco smiled and kissed him one last time before grabbing his jacket and
following Liam out the door. He made sure Liam locked the apartment before they
headed downstairs.
                                      xxx
The next week passed quickly. Harry was left in charge of the apartment and
packing as they toured Queens with a real-estate agent. They saw dozens of
apartments and argued over each one. Draco insisted the place had to have a
nice kitchen and an in-unit laundry. Liam wanted a nice-sized living room where
he could put his big couch. He insisted it would be coming with them. Draco
preferred two bathrooms and insisted on two bedrooms. Liam agreed on the
bedrooms, but he didn't see why they couldn't share a bathroom. Draco didn't
want an apartment higher than the third floor of the building; Liam demanded
they keep their search to Queens so that he was near work and his boss.
Finally, after many hours hunting, arguing with each other, and haggling with
the real-estate agent, they found a place. Liam paid out the ass to break his
lease, and by the next day, he signed on with the new apartment building. Harry
had everything already boxed and labeled with hand-drawn pictures so that he
knew where everything was. They were ready to move.
It was decided that Harry would leave an hour before Draco and Liam. Hopefully,
Gotti's people, if they were watching, would think Harry was just some kid who
lived in the apartment. They picked him up at the end of the block. On the way
to their new place, Draco insisted they stop at a bedding store.
Harry gushed over all the soft sheets and pillows, making even Liam grin as the
boy ran this way and that. In the end, Harry favored a dark green, silk-blend
sheet set with a grey comforter. Harry was so excited and thankful, he
practically hung on Draco's arm, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling happily.
Liam didn't even flinch at the bill at the register. He was starting to
empathize with Draco's willingness to do anything to make Harry happy.
The apartment was on the fourth floor, but it had a large kitchen and living
room with a small nook for a small dining table. There were large windows that
had a pretty nice view of the city and there were two bedrooms. Unfortunately,
there was only one bathroom, but it was roomy with a large tub. It even had the
required attached laundry room.
Liam was lazy by nature so he'd paid off some of Gotti's men to move the
furniture and boxes, so everything was already in the apartment when they
arrived with Harry's new bedding in hand. Draco hadn't liked the idea of thugs
in their new place, but it was stupid to think Gotti wouldn't know where they
had moved. Still, he insisted that extra locks, the best money could buy, be
installed on the front door as well as the bedroom door. If it gave Draco peace
of mind, Liam didn't mind complying.
“I've really come up in the world,” he muttered, standing at the window and
looking out at the buildings. He had never stayed in a place this nice.
Draco and Harry were behind him, sitting on the living room floor talking
quietly, boxes were strewn around the room as they worked on sorting through
them. He'd only known the boys for seven days, one day more than Brendon had,
and yet they were already becoming a type of family. It was all so crazy.
“You need'ta decide what to do with the club,” Draco suddenly spoke up, blond
hair tucked behind his ears, expression as open and friendly as it ever got,
but as always he looked directly into Liam's eyes.
Liam couldn't get used to that. Sustained eye contact was rarer than you'd
think. It was chilling and compelling at once. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered and
strode past them toward the kitchen. Just like Brendon, Draco was so damn
bossy!
He'd just opened the fridge and was looking for a drink when the phone rang.
Sighing, he shut the heavy door and picked up the phone. “Yeah?” A pause as he
listened, then, “Sure thing.” Liam hung up the phone and went to grab his
jacket. Draco was already watching him, always on the alert. “I got a job.
Don't know when I'll be back.”
He tossed the boys a wave and went out the door. He didn't bother locking it.
Sure enough, not three seconds later, he heard Draco turn the dead bolt, attach
the security chain, and flick the doorknob lock. Shaking his head, he left them
to their nesting.
                                      xxx
Harry yawned. It was late, but they had managed to finish most of the
unpacking. Liam wasn't back yet, but Draco didn't seem worried about it.
Smiling, he crawled into bed with Draco. He was so glad Draco liked sleeping
without clothes. This was his favorite time of day, when he could lay wrapped
in Draco's arms, their bare skin warm everywhere it touched.
“What do ya think of the place?” Draco asked quietly, drawing his fingers
gently through Harry's hair.
He lifted his head from Draco's shoulder and looked up into his eyes. “Love it,
Draco. Love you.”
Draco sighed in contentment and brought Harry's mouth to his for a deep kiss.
“Let's check out the parks 'round here tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Harry agreed happily. He settled back down into Draco's side. Loving
the scent of Draco's skin, he took a deep breath. “Thank you, Draco,” he
whispered. “For everything.”
A soft snore was his answer.
Smiling, Harry closed his eyes.
                                      xxx
Later that week Liam decided to keep the club. Gotti was as confident and
arrogant as ever concerning the case the Feds were making, but there was talk
that the Feds had airtight evidence and that the witnesses couldn't be found in
order for the mob to shut them up. There was a chance, small as it was, that
Gotti wouldn't make it. In fact, there was a chance the mafia wouldn't make it.
He shuddered to think of the chaos that would result and of the unorganized
criminals who would fill that void. If that came to be, he wasn't going to
stick around. The club would become his only source of income. He couldn't live
day-to-day anymore. The boys weren't cheap. The apartment alone cost nearly a
thousand dollars a month. That was why he broached the topic to Draco one
evening after dinner before the boys went to bed.
It had taken a few days, but Liam had finally convinced them to stop their
nocturnal wanderings. He thought the argument that had finally won Draco over
was that it was very unusual for kids to be out at night and it could bring
undue attention from the police or social services. Liam still didn't have
their forged paperwork yet, so it was essential to fly under the radar.
Whatever the case, the boys were now in before dark and slept through the
night.
“I'm keeping the club. You know anyone Brendon trusted who can help me figure
things out?” he asked.
Draco and Harry were curled up in the corner of the couch. Harry was already
half asleep as Draco pet his hair as one would a cat. However, the blond went
from relaxed to alert in a second. “Anyone who worked the basement had to've
been trusted.”
Liam was sitting on the floor, his back to the opposite end of the couch, the
middle cushion between him and the kids. He sighed and slouched down. “Basement
wasn't exactly on the books.”
“But he had to pay 'em,” Draco answered, eyes narrowed as he thought hard.
“Call up everyone he gave money to and ask where they worked. If they act
shifty, then ya know they worked the basement. Worth a try anyway.”
Liam perked up. “Didn't think of that. The only one I talked to was the head
bartender. He knew a lot about the bar, but nothing about the basement or what
it cost to keep the club open or anything. He was looking forward to getting
shifts again, though.” He snorted with a grin. “My brother wouldn't hire fools.
At least I know the people Brendon hired will be good at their jobs. If I can
tempt them to stay with the club, that would be great.”
There was a long pause and he looked up to see Draco staring at him
thoughtfully. Liam looked back to the tv, uncomfortable with and flattered by
the concern all at the same time. “I'll be fine. Got to figure it out if we're
gonna make it. Need the money, honestly.” A small hand touched his hair. He was
so shocked that he held perfectly still. This was the first time since he'd met
the boys that either one of them had touched him.
Seeing that Liam was allowing the touch, Draco rested his hand more firmly on
his head and began to stroke his hair slowly and softly. “It's better if we
both understand it. We'll go together.”
Liam felt his eyes burn with tears. He clenched his fists and cleared his
throat. “I got it. You don't have to.”
Draco gave a sharp, painful tug at his hair before continuing the petting
motion. “I'm going. I want to learn how it works.”
Liam understood perfectly. Draco had to be a part of what was keeping them
alive. He had to have some control over it. The kid really was like Brendon,
but even though they had the same unusually controlling personality, they were
different people at the same time.
Draco was even less emotional than Brendon had been. He wasn't prone to
laughter or jokes. He smiled and played, but there was a serious edge even to
his play. He was also more fiercely protective and paranoid. It was true Draco
wanted to go back to the club for all those reasons, but Liam sensed that
somehow he had slipped into the circle of Draco's protection and that the blond
knew how difficult it was for him to face Brendon's club, the place Brendon had
created and loved.
Letting his tears fall, Liam closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the
couch. Draco's warm fingers brushed over his forehead and pressed his hair back
in slow, soothing motions. It made the tears fall harder and his breath hitch.
He heard movement but wasn't ready to open his eyes. Suddenly he felt something
press against his head on the side and slightly cooler fingers on his wet
cheek. With Draco still petting him, he knew it must be Harry and he opened his
eyes shocked that Draco let the boy touch him, in his circle or not.
The blond had moved so that he was sitting directly next to Liam's head. Harry
had shifted to curl up on Draco's other side, head in the blond's lap only a
few inches from Liam's. Those sleepy green eyes were warm and full of an easy
love, the complete opposite of Draco's temperament. Harry was a painfully sweet
kid.
Liam smiled tearfully, a sob rising in his throat. He lifted his hand and Harry
moved his fingers from his face to hold onto it tightly. Liam turned his face
toward Draco's legs, hiding it slightly from view, and let all the emotion he'd
been pushing away rise to the surface.
He missed Brendon so damn much, but he also cried for Draco who was incredibly
brilliant and strong and had been hurt so badly that murder came easy and trust
so damn hard. Cried for Harry who was so freaking gentle and kind and had been
so broken that he couldn't exist now without obedience. Wept because Brendon
should have been here a part of all this. They had wanted a family to belong to
all their lives, and when they'd finally found one, Brendon was gone.
                                      xxx
Draco woke Harry with kisses. His heart beat in anticipation. Today he and Liam
would be going back to the club. He'd had no idea he would ever go back, but at
the same time it felt right. Brendon's place had been their very first safe
haven. It had been the place they had found freedom. It was their first bed
with soft sheets, hot baths and sweet soap, warm food twice a day, sunshine,
and parks; it was a powerful place. He suspected Harry felt the same since the
boy had chosen green sheets for their bed, the same green that had been in
their bedroom at Brendon's.
What had happened there had been horrible, and it still gave them terrible
nightmares, but regardless it remained the foundation of their lives. It had
saved them once and continued to keep them alive by giving them money and
security. Draco couldn't escape it, and he didn't even want to. Plus, Liam
couldn't go alone.
He had no idea what had flipped in his head, but when he saw Liam's pain, saw
the vulnerable line of the man's exposed neck, some part of him suddenly saw
Liam as Brendon's Harry. That meant that Liam had lost his Draco. The idea was
so painful that he immediately felt responsible and protective of the man. He
couldn't leave Liam to deal with the club alone.
“While we're gone, ya can do some cleaning,” Draco told his boy when their
mouths parted. He smiled, enjoying the look of Harry's flushed cheeks and happy
smile. “We've been goin' to the park everyday so you got lots of laundry to
do.”
- happy love- “Yes, Draco.”
He nodded, content to know Harry would have tasks to do and wouldn't be lonely
or fall into the darkness again. They got up and dressed, Draco running his
hand down Harry's arm and back whenever he came within reach. Once they were
ready, Harry began making breakfast and Draco went and knocked on Liam door.
“Get ready,” he called through the wood. “Breakfast will be done soon.” He
would have gone in, but Liam had requested that Draco knock and wait to be
invited as a soft rule. He saw no reason not to respect that.
An hour later, they were ready to leave. Harry had already started the
breakfast dishes as Draco came and kissed his cheek goodbye. Liam stepped close
and stood awkwardly, aware things had changed, but not sure exactly what that
meant or what was expected.
Harry turned and offered him a soapy hand with a soft smile – compassion care
–flooding the bond. Liam took the offered hand and squeezed it gently, his
whole expression going soft, a wide smile spreading across his young face.
Harry's gentle eyes returned to Draco and a feeling of – trust – rose above the
others. Draco knew that meant the boy trusted him to take care of Liam as well
as him. It made his chest swell with pride. * You come first, Harry. Always.
But I'll make sure he's alright. *
Harry nodded, trusting Draco completely, and flashed a happy smile at them
both. “See you soon. Love you.”
“Love you,” Draco answered, pleased, and brushed his fingers down the boy's
cheek before following Liam to the door.
Chapter end.
 
***** Brendon's Club *****
Updated: 5.8.16
   A/N: Happy Mother's Day! An extra chapter this week in honor of the day.
                                Brendon's_Club
Brendon's club was in Manhattan only about ten blocks from Central Park. That
meant they had to take I-495 W from Rego Park, Queens, where their new
apartment was located. It was a forty-five minute drive without traffic. Liam
pulled into the garage across the street and parked in Brendon's reserved spot.
He took a deep breath as he shut off the engine and glanced at Draco.
The blond offered him a smile and reached out to brush his fingers along his
arm. Liam looked away, feeling his cheeks heat. He had no idea what had changed
between the boys and him, but the open affection was hard to adjust to.
Shaking his head once, he stepped out and led the way across the street to the
club. There were a few people walking to the dry-cleaners and in and out of
their apartments, but mostly the street was quiet. His key fit in the lock and
he steeled himself as he pushed open the door.
It was dark and he groped along the wall until he felt a switch. Low lights
came on, illuminating a medium-sized space. At the far end stood a black DJ
booth with a simple black cage framework that had spotlights and lasers mounted
to it. The dance floor consisted of large glass squares with lights of all
colors set inside. There was a small step up and an intricate lattice-work of
black metal surrounding the dance area. A few tables and booths lined the space
along the walls.
The thirteen booths had thick, dark red curtains that could be unlatched to
shroud each in privacy. A quick count revealed twenty-six tables, each seating
no more than three. There were two bars up against the walls to the right and
left of the entrance. Each bar only had eleven stools, and there was a section
at the end with none. For the waitresses, Liam supposed. The liqueur sat on
glass shelves four high behind both bars. The whole place was a strangely
harmonious combination of disco and luxury, old world and new.
The club definitely had mood and history. If Liam could figure out how to run
the place, he'd easily be able to live off the returns, but that was a very big
if. He felt nervous as hell. What if he fucked everything up and ran Brendon's
club into the ground?
“What time are they gettin' here?” Draco asked as he made his way to the bar on
the right. The kid was small enough that he couldn't easily look over the
wooden surface and had to go around to get a clear view of what was behind it.
Liam checked his watch, following the boy, but instead of exploring, he sat on
a stool. “Twenty minutes.”
Draco nodded and moved along the booths and tables, looking at everything but
touching nothing. Liam watched him, chin propped up on his hand. The kid must
have an excellent inner clock because exactly twenty minutes later Draco's
circuit of the room ended and he climbed up on the stool next to Liam. The
front door opened, letting in a brief slash of sunlight before it swung shut
behind a man in his late twenties.
“Hey. You Liam O'Shea?”
Liam stood and offered his hand, keeping his expression neutral. “That'd be me.
Blake Rudolph?”
The man grinned. “Yep! You looking to sell the place?”
“No. I'm going to keep it,” Liam answered, he gestured to a stool. “Pull up a
seat. What exactly were your duties here?”
He glanced down as something touched his arm. It took all his control to keep
surprise from registering on his face as Draco slid him a spiral notebook and
pen to take notes. He had no idea where the boy had found them, didn't remember
seeing Draco with them. Accepting both, he looked up at the man who had chosen
to sit a stool down from them.
Over the course of the next five hours, Liam interviewed eighteen employees,
managing about three an hour. He was exhausted but pleased that all of
Brendon's staff wanted to stay and continue when the club reopened. It came out
to four bartenders, four waitresses, three security men, one busgirl, a
brother-sister team to do quick cleans on the nights the club was open, and two
brothers who were paid almost double to do deep cleans over the two days –
Monday and Tuesday – the club was closed.
None of these people, though they were professional and clearly good at what
they did, knew anything about the basement when Liam hinted, and none could
help him figure out how to run the club. Hungry and frustrated, he stood and
stretched. There were only two employees left to talk to. If they didn't know
anything, then he was going to have to assume Brendon paid the basement
employees off the books.
The door opened and two women entered. One walked in front of the other. She
was about Brendon's age, in her mid-twenties. She wore heavy combat boots,
black skin-tight leather pants, and a black leather corset with ribbon cinching
it closed in the front and tied in a neat bow. There was maroon lace tracing
the top of the corset that brought the eye to her modest, yet perfect cleavage.
Liam swallowed and forced his eyes to her face.
She wore a semi-large silver chain with a small padlock at the end around her
neck. It rested right over her sternum before her cleavage started. She stopped
in front of them, canting her hip and crossing her arms. An inch of her
perfectly smooth skin showed between her low-riding pants and her top.
Liam swallowed and forced his eyes to her face. She didn't wear make-up. She
had pale, moon-white skin. Her lips were full and naturally pink, her nose
straight and small. Her eyes were large and a strange mossy grey-green hazel.
Long black hair fell to her waist in slightly wavy, tangled locks. She looked
dangerous, and Liam would have suspected she was carrying a gun, but her skin
tight leathers left her no hiding places.
Then the second woman caught his eye. She was Asian, so her age was hard to
judge. She was somewhere in her twenties or thirties. Bone-straight, glossy
black hair fell just past her shoulders. Her bangs were cut in a perfectly
straight line just over her eyes, which were a dark, deep brown and slanted.
She wore a strapless pink corset-type bodice tucked in to a fitted black skirt
that fell just above her knee. The bodice was low-cut and revealed quite a bit
of her small breasts. It had black lace peaking out the top (either as part of
the top or the woman's bra) and gold buttons down the front. But what really
drew the eye were the colorful tattoos that covered her slender left arm from
wrist to shoulder.
Perhaps the first woman was a bodyguard? The second was clearly wealthy. She
wore designer clothes, killer stiletto heals, and had a no-nonsense air about
her. Liam was about to open his mouth to speak, say his name or something, when
Draco tugged him backward.
A quick glanced showed him that the blond wanted him to sit. He obeyed out of
curiosity. The kid had been silent and seemingly bored the entire day. He'd
even pillowed his head on his arms and closed his eyes during one interview.
Draco was alert now, however, sitting on the bar top so he'd be more eye-level
with the women.
“You work the exhibition room?” he asked, meeting each woman's eyes before
settling on the one in leather. She gave a sharp smile full of teeth, cold eyes
glinting dangerously. Liam shivered.
“Darian, but call me Drey.” She gestured with a tilt of her head to the silent
woman at her side. “Jess Yagami. Brendon's accountant and manager.”
“Draco,” the little blond returned her introduction. He gestured at Liam.
“Brendon's brother Liam. We're keeping the club open.”
Liam cleared his throat, annoyed that Draco was speaking for him. He did his
best to meet her gaze. “You willing to keep working for me?”
Drey tilted her head curiously. She said nothing, just watched them; Jess
continued to stand silent. Draco seemed unbothered by the scrutiny. Liam,
however, fidgeted and sweated. His stomach growled and he was suddenly very
thirsty. He scowled and crossed his arms defensively.
“Well? You must be curious or you wouldn't have come.”
Jess's eyes met his, and he scowled harder. “You're the brother. Who's the
child?”
“Another brother. Got a problem with it?” he asked aggressively.
She offered him a cool smile, eyes glinting, but before she could say anything
cutting, Draco spoke up.
“Grab waters, Liam. Let's move to the table.” He dropped to the floor with the
easy grace of a child.
Liam expected the women to storm off, but they followed the little blond to the
nearest table without comment. Grumbling, he pulled out four bottles of water
and met them at the table.
It might be strange to most people, why Liam gave Draco so much leeway. They
might even assume it was due to the fact Draco has suffered horrifically and
Liam wanted to spoil him, but that wasn't it. Draco just didn't act like a kid.
He was rational, unemotional, and goal-oriented. Almost everything he did was
for Harry's benefit. Hell, the only reason Draco was playing house at the
apartment at all was so that Harry could have a home.
He ate his vegetables once Liam explained the importance of a balanced diet and
then made sure Harry included them in every meal. He valued chores (more than
Liam ever had), cared about their safety, and cared about dressing right for
the weather. He made sure they never forgot to brush their teeth or bathe.
Draco was essentially a miniature adult.
Trying to control him or set rules as if he were an average five-year-old would
have been purely for power's sake, which would make Liam just like all the
other men who enjoyed wielding power over little boys. Instead, Liam decided to
make Draco his partner. That meant honestly respecting Draco's ideas and
wishes, as well as giving him a chance, like now, to make his own decisions
before trying to give him advice. And he'd been rewarded by earning Draco and
Harry's trust, as well as their affection. They were a real family now for
better or worse.
So Liam took the seat next to Draco and drank nearly half of his water without
saying a word.
“Where'd you come from?” Drey asked, pale eyes fixed on a blank-faced Draco.
“You know what we need ta know or not?” Draco asked in return. “Don't lie. I'll
know.”
Her smile widened into something wolfish. “Jess knows what you need to know,
but only if I get the answers I want. What really happened to Brendon? Where'd
you come from? You're not their blood brother.”
Furious at her arrogant attitude, Liam opened his mouth to tell her to get out,
that they didn't need her, when Draco touched his leg under the table. Liam
sent him a glare, but Draco gave him a look asking him to wait. And it was
asking. Reluctantly, Liam nodded.
Turning his attention back to the women, Draco told the bare outlines of his
story, leaving out Harry of course. He recounted the night of Brendon's murder
in the exact way he'd told Gotti. Liam's hand crushed the plastic water bottle,
still unable to hear how Brendon was so coldly murdered without anger.
When Draco was done, he met Drey's eyes, his own as cold as hers. “That enough
for you?”
She gave a nod and settled back. Suddenly it was Jess who took over the
conversation.
“Running a club is based on an easy formula. Entrance revenue plus bar revenue
minus beverage cost, rent, utilities, staff, security, insurance, and marketing
equals either a loss or a profit. This club is a little different in that it
has the basement to bring in money under the table. It gives the club an edge
and made sure Brendon ended up on the profit side by a margin.”
Liam was surprised by the detailed answer. Unashamed, he got up and fetched his
notebook and pen.
“Under the table?” Draco questioned. “That means secret, right? But you were on
the books. That's how Liam called ya.”
Drey shrugged, looking bored. “I'm technically a bartender on the club's
payroll, but I really worked the exhibition room as security. The other
employees won't recognize me.”
“Our paychecks are on the books, but not the items or specialty juices and
sodas served down there. Neither is the revenue,” Jess elaborated. She met
Liam's curious gaze. “There's no alcohol downstairs. It would be too dangerous
to mix with our type of play.”
“So the club sustains itself without help from the basement?” he asked, eager
to escape talk of what exactly happened in the basement.
“If the club was coming up short, Brendon would supplement it with the
basement's income, but the club usually did okay on it's own.”
“So you managed the finances for my brother?”
“I worked the toy counter, served drinks, and took the entrance fee on the
nights the basement was open. I'm also responsible for doing the accounting and
taxes for the club. Brendon was actually working on buying this whole building.
He would have payed it off in another five years.”
Liam looked to Drey who was still watching Draco. “And you?”
She flashed him a cold look. “It's my job to make sure everyone downstairs is
there willingly and to know everyone's safe word.”
He shifted uncomfortably.
Draco on the other hand looked interested. “Willing? Safe word?”
She gave him a serious nod. “Willing,” she repeated firmly. “And a safe word is
a word the submissive can say that will stop everything. The dominate is
required to obey that word or I step in.” She gave a dangerous smile. “Trust
me. No one wants me to step in.”
Liam cleared his throat, believing her completely. “What are we looking at
here?”
Jess crossed her legs and folded her hands gracefully over her knees. “May I
see your book?”
Liam slid it over. For a few minutes the woman wrote on a page and then pushed
it back. He took it and his eyes widened. Monthly fees: Mortgage: $11,300.
Liqueur: $10,000. Staff pay: $3,720. Utilities: $1,920. Insurance: $1,000.
Taxes and fees: $1,000.The club owed $28,940 a month! Holy shit! That was... He
did some math on the page... $347,280 a year!
“How in the world... How much does the club earn a month?” Liam demanded.
“On average, the club earns about $30,000 a month. The basement earns an
additional $10,000 off the books.”
Liam felt like fainting. What the hell? He knew Brendon was doing well, but...
Damn!
“Brendon made a profit of $132,720 a year. Subtract his car, living expenses,
and repairs to the club, he put away on average $10,000 dollars a year into
savings. Because the club has been shut for nearly two weeks, you're going to
have to dip into that savings to pay the bills this month. Hopefully that won't
be necessary again.”
Liam's head was spinning. “So you're going to stay with the club?”
Jess nodded. “On the condition that Drey and I can move into the apartment
upstairs and live there free of rent. I'm content for our salary to remain the
same. If you agree, I can have the furniture and decorations shipped to you or
I can sell it and deposit the money into your account.”
Brendon had put a lot of money into sound-proofing the apartment and basement,
but the club's noise still leaked through. It wasn't exactly a selling point.
Plus, the basement and apartment were practically linked. Not just anyone could
live there. He sure as hell wouldn't, and he didn't think Draco would want to,
either. Not after everything that had happened.
“Fine,” he agreed, but Draco shot him a heated glare, making him shut up.
The blond turned his glare on Jess. “You wanna live in the apartment for free
and get paid the same.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I would be doing more work, my job plus Brendon's. It's
a fair request.”
“Liam will come every month and you'll teach him how ta run this club,” Draco
demanded.
Liam shifted uncomfortably. He was never very good with school and numbers, not
like Brendon had been, but that was no excuse to puss out and just trust these
two right away. Draco was right. He'd have to learn and fast, or they'd most
likely get swindled. This was a lot of cash they were talking about. Shit.
Jess gave Draco a level look before meeting Liam's eyes and inclining her head.
“I agree.”
“So we have a deal?” Drey asked all sharp teeth.
Liam really had no other choice, no matter if Draco liked it or not. He
honestly had no idea how to run a business or what was involved. Without these
two, he'd run the club into the ground and end up with nothing. It was a gamble
they'd have to take. “Deal.”
“I'll have the club's lawyers draw up a new contract. The club and building
will still be in your name,” Jess added as reassurance. Her eyes drifted to
Draco. “What are your plans for the child? You cannot legally adopt him.”
Liam stood. “Thank you for your concern. When would you like to meet again?” he
asked, clearly letting her know Draco was none of her business. It was bad
enough that he had to trust her with Brendon's club. He wasn't about to let her
have power over Draco, too.
She stood, unbothered by his attitude. “We'll have our first lesson and sign
the agreement between us a week from now. Let's meet here. Same time.”
Liam nodded.
Drey gave Draco one last grin before turning and following Jess out the door.
Liam fell back into the chair with a loud sigh. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Draco looked up at Liam curiously. “Who d'ya think was the master?”
He thought back. Drey had entered first. She was the first to speak and make
demands. She was also dangerous and had cold eyes much like Draco and Brendon.
He could also easily see her enjoying taking a whip or paddle to someone's
skin. He tried to picture Jess with the whip and it also came surprisingly
easy.
Blushing hotly, he opened his eyes. He stood and cleared his throat. “Who
cares. Let's go. I'm starving.”
Draco didn't move, his eyes still trained on the door. “It's not like me an'
Harry. It's weird. Drey decided they would stay; Jess was the master once they
did. It's like they traded who was master.”
Liam shrugged and ran a hand roughly through his hair. “Come on, Draco, it's
none of our business. Seriously. Let's go, okay?”
Draco's sharp eyes focused on him in concern. The boy nodded with a frown.
“Yeah, let's go.”
Liam smiled in relief, glad the day was over.
                                      xxx
After the day spent at the club, Draco was reminded that they needed schooling.
He had Liam make a few phone calls and found a retired teacher to tutor him and
Harry three days a week. He didn't want the old woman in their space, paranoid
as always, so he had it set up that they'd meet her at a cafe near the
apartment. Harry was instantly nervous. He was certain that he was stupid and
that Draco would be disappointed. It took a lot of kisses and some bites before
the boy relaxed.
They still spent the majority of their days on various playgrounds. When they
weren't studying or playing at the park, they shopped for decorations to add to
the apartment, ate at restaurants, bought groceries, and spent time with Liam.
Draco waited for disaster, but it never came. The week ended and the first
business lesson with Jess arrived. He insisted on going with Liam. Secretly, he
wanted to observe her with Drey almost as much as he wanted to know how to run
the club.
                                      xxx
Jess was sitting on a stool at the bar when they arrived. She wore the same
clothes as last time, the black pencil skirt and pink strapless bodice that
revealed more than it covered of her small breasts. The only difference was
that her hair had been pulled up into a bun.
Drey was roaming the club, also in the same leather as before. The dance floor
and DJ booth lights and lasers flashed and swiveled slowly in the otherwise
silent club. Instead of adding to the brightness of the room however, it
created shifting, mysterious shadows.
Liam walked slightly ahead of Draco. He wore his normal blue jeans and combat
boots. His t-shirt was white and skin tight under his leather jacket,
emphasizing his lean muscles. His shoulder-length hair had been pulled back
into a high ponytail. Draco kept his tucked behind his ears and watched as
Drey's path circled toward Jess as they made their way over to her. They
arrived at almost the exact same time. Interesting.
“Brought little brother again,” she asked with a chilling smile.
Liam tensed and his posture shifted so that he was facing the woman head on.
“You got a problem with that?”
Draco gently touched Liam's hip and stared Drey down. “How's the basement?
People okay with Brendon being gone?”
She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and stalked around them so that she
could stand at Jess's side. “Business as usual,” she drawled carelessly, but
Draco was watching very carefully and saw a flash of loss in her eyes.
“The club also did well,” Jess spoke up and Draco shifted his attention to her.
“I suspect the rumors of murder drew instead of repelled customers. We were
able to cover this months bills with help from the basement's revenue without
having to ask you to use your savings.”
“That's good,” Liam allowed, still tense with anger.
“Here is the contract outlining the changes we agreed upon.” She opened a
business folder and showed Liam a document. Picking up a heavy pen, she twisted
the end and slid it over.
Liam sat down to read the contract carefully.
Suddenly both women shifted their attention to Draco. He was unaffected by
their stares and asked calmly, “Testin' the lights?”
Drey strode forward getting into his space and making him look up. Liam tensed
and lifted his head, but Draco waved him off. As dangerous as Drey was to most
people, she wasn't dangerous to him. She clearly didn't favor guns, so he
guessed she was a whip or knife lover. Either one drew blood, and should she
dare draw his, she'd die. Simple as that. So there wasn't an ounce of fear in
him as she crouched down, hands dangling between her muscular thighs.
Her mossy eyes glinted like a feral cat's. “You sure you should be this
reckless with a boy to take care of?” she asked, voice filled with layers of
meaning.
The change in Draco was instantaneous. He went from mildly curious to enraged
in the space of a second. Faster than she could move to evade, he had her by
her chain necklace and yanked her forward so that she had to brace both of her
hands on the floor to keep from falling on her face.
Draco bent at the waist as he twisted his hand sharply, fisting the necklace
closed around her throat so that it hurt her to breathe, and growled in her
ear, “What do ya know 'bout that?”
Drey thrust upward with her legs, breaking his grip on the chain and surging to
her feet.
“Careful, Drey. I will kill you,” he hissed, eyes glittering with malice.
Jess, arm out flung to prevent Liam from interfering, suddenly stepped forward.
She stood at Drey's side, her shoulder just slightly ahead of the other
woman's. “She apologizes. Please, if you would come with me, I will explain
everything.” She shot her partner a cold look. “Drey will stay and continue
Liam's lesson.”
Draco would have refused the offer, unwilling to leave things unfinished with
someone he considered a threat, but Drey turned her face to the side, hair
curtaining her eyes, no longer challenging him. She was also silent, offering
no more antagonizing comments.
Releasing a deep breath, he nodded at Liam and turned toward Jess. “Fine,” he
growled and crossed his arms over his chest. “But if I don't like what ya have
ta say, it's not over.”
Jess gave a slight bow of her head. “I understand. Please follow me.” She
stepped passed him and made her way to front door of the club.
“If you're not back in thirty, I'm coming after you,” Liam warned.
Draco knew Liam was serious. He gave one last glare at Drey and followed Jess
to the front door. He had a feeling he knew where she was leading him: the
basement. He grinned, sharp and dangerous. If Jess thought bringing him there
would give her an advantage, she was dead wrong.
Chapter end.
A/N:I'm torn about all these OC's, but I don't want to just skip over these few
years they live in New York, either, and they have to interact with other
characters... (sigh)          What do you think about them?
 
***** Doms and Subs *****
Updated: 5.13.16
Shout out to all those who review!
Thank you so much for the comments. This is a difficult story. I've attempted
it three times now, so I really depend on feedback. Truly, thank you, and I
will keep the chapters coming for as long as I can.
Thank you for supporting my OCs, NightShade2017, CrowquillScribe, FairyRave,
4everDisturbed, Cocoa, BifrostedRainbows.
Totally going to Hogwarts eventually, promise, FairyRave, Bob. I'm thinking by
chapter 21 or so.
Special thanks for Omlette87 and Kissme007. :D
                                      ...
                           Dominants_and_Submissives
Sure enough, Jess unlocked the private door and led him down the hallway to the
stairs leading to the basement. It made him tense but also curious. He'd
explained briefly what had happened the night Brendon died (omitting Harry of
course), and he was already angry due to Drey, so what purpose could she have
for bringing him here now?
Jess stepped into the exhibition room and flicked on the lights. Draco trailed
after her as she came to stand at the newly repaired toy counter. “What are
your thoughts on this room?”
He narrowed his eyes in warning. Thoughts of betrayal burned through him. Were
the women with the Lucchese? Was Harry in danger? “You were gonna explain what
ya know and how ya know it, not the other way around.”
“True,” she agreed easily. “But it is part of the explanation. I need to know
where to begin if...”
Draco cut her off. “I owe you nothin'. Now explain what ya know!”
“We don't know much,” Jess began, slowly blinking her dark, slanted eyes.
“Brendon was our alpha, but if you don't know what that is, then I suppose
you'd think of him as our master.”
Draco frowned, shoulders relaxing. Not with the Lucchese then. At least Harry
was safe for now. “So Brendon told ya about me an' my boy?” He didn't know why
he was so surprised. Brendon had told Liam, after all. But these women were not
like Liam. Draco couldn't put it in words, but they were a threat in a way Liam
wasn't.
Jess shook her head. “No. He wouldn't have betrayed you like that. He greatly
respected who and what you are.” She sighed and moved to one of the couches.
Crossing her legs, she settled her hands on her knee. “Please sit. I will
explain.”
Draco chose to perch on the couch arm, his feet on the cushions, his body
facing Jess. It put his head higher than hers. He moved his hand in a
'continue' gesture, and she did.
“When he took you in, Brendon contacted us and explained he would not see us
for a few days. He said that he had found someone like him. A child.” She
reached up and unbound her hair. It fell around her shoulders in a glossy
curtain. “The night before he died, he called to make plans for a meeting that
weekend. He mentioned he was jealous of the child he'd found. There was nothing
Brendon would be jealous of another person having. Except one thing. A true
submissive, what we call an omega.”
Draco cocked his head. “There's lots of submissives.”
Jess began to braid her hair over one shoulder. “Yes and no. Human
psychology...” She paused as Draco scrunched his brows at the unfamiliar word.
“Psychology is the way people think. Not just the words in their head, but the
way of it. The patterns. The deep workings that are underneath and behind the
words.”
He kind of understood, at least a little, what she was trying to say. “What
about it?”
“Psychology is based on a template, an outline, created millions of years ago.
Back when we were animals and lived in the wild just as monkeys and wolves do
now. I don't know your background, but you probably don't know much about the
behaviors of these animals.”
“No,” he admitted, however he knew intimately the pangs of hunger, the drive to
do anything for food, the desire to kill, the pleasure of touch, the way humans
loved blood and sex and inflicting pain – it wasn't hard for him to think of
people as animals, or even to think of himself as one. “But I understand we're
a type of animal. I still don't get what that has to do with submissives an'
stuff.”
He looked closely for a sneer in her eyes. No matter how interesting this was,
he'd get up right now if she thought he was stupid. Their tutor had been
shocked and pitied them when he and Harry hadn't known the alphabet or how to
write a single letter. He wouldn't put up with it from Jess.
“You are already smarter than the majority of the world, then,” she told him
sincerely. “The sad fact is that most humans do not want to admit that we think
and need like animals do still to this day. They dress up their thinking and
suppress their desires and needs. They refuse to see their true selves. Most
people find ways to relieve the psychological tension or find places in their
lives where it is acceptable to act like their instincts demand, even if
momentarily. This room is a part of that.”
Draco looked around. He saw the same stage, the same spanking bench, the same
chains and whips. It had been used to damage them, to break their bodies and
give their tormentors a pleasure they found only in blood and pain. Of course,
that's not how it had ended up. They had ended up dead. Survival of the
fittest, and Draco had been fit and they had been weak.
“Animals come here,” he agreed.
Jess smiled sadly. She had finished her braid, it fell to just under the swell
of her small breasts, and now her hands sat still in her lap. “Yes, but the
ones who brought you here were ill. That is not what this room is for. Drey
told you. All who enter here wish to be here, honestly and truly. Should any of
the submissives wish to stop, if they feel things have gone too far, things
stop. Immediately. Even in the animal world, there are the ill. They usually
get culled by their species just as you killed the ones here.” Her dark eyes
pierced him. “Most importantly, there are no children here. They are not
developed enough to give consent.”
Draco couldn't wrap his mind around a room full of people doing that to each
other willingly, but then a flash of Harry, the storm of dark insanity clawing
at Draco's mind, the sheer relief and pleasure that laced the pain with every
bite. Somehow Draco had known what he needed to do to bring Harry back. Pain,
but it was more than that; it was for Draco to take him, to mark him, to make
the ownership true. It was to tear him out of that dark inner place and bring
him back to Draco. So maybe he could see it a little, but still a submissive
wouldn't say stop, Harry wouldn't say stop, not even if he wanted to. So how
did that work?
Jess seemed to sense his struggle. “Think of it this way. Most mammals, which
is the type of animal we are, live in packs or groups. In every such group,
there is a leader. There is no real reason for this except one.” She held up a
single finger. “Mammals are selfish.”
Draco snorted, smiling.
She smiled back. “Humans are wired to survive even at the cost of others.
Survival of self is first. There are a few exceptions; parents for their
children, lovers for each other, things like that. However, even then a parent
will have the instinct to bring down other children so their child flourishes,
and a lover will sabotage other people in their mate's life to secure their own
standing. Therefore, they still have the instinct to be selfish.
“However, mammals are not strong enough to survive alone. Mammals tend to be
clever, but there is always something stronger, faster, or deadlier. So mammals
needed groups to survive, but they can't be trusted to put the group first
because each person in the group is selfish, which destroys a group. Therefore,
nature created a special type of mammal, a leader, an alpha.”
Wide-eyed, Draco asked, “What makes 'em so different?”
Jess lifted her hands and cupped them into a circle. “The human psyche is made
up of a mix of dominant and submissive animal instincts formed over years and
years of group survival.” She closed her fingers to her thumbs creating two
smaller circles. She adjusted the sizes so one would be larger than the other
and then reversed it. “Some have more dominant traits and others more
submissive traits. The more submissive a person is, the more group-oriented
they will be, but they will also be less likely to thrive than a selfish
person. Dominants are needed to keep the pack safe and successful through
selfishness; submissives are needed to keep the group whole.”
Draco nodded. He could understand that. Without Harry, he would not have been
driven to accept Brendon, let alone Liam. He most likely would have been
stubborn and would have died in his sleep because of the cold like Leon had
described. “Okay.” He shrugged. It really wasn't that complicated. “So?”
She sighed. “But it's not that simple. Unlike you, who are completely dom and
your boy who is completely sub, the truth is that most people are neither
wholly dom nor sub. They are the mix I showed you. Groups are very political
even in the animal world. One individual may be dom over one one but sub to
another. It's complex and organic.
“However, in today's society, subs are often abused and bullied or seen as weak
instead of understood and respected for what they are. People hide and suppress
their sub sides, and that has created a world filled with people who live under
constant stress. That is why some people are called to this room. Sometimes it
is a usually dominant person who needs to be the submissive here, or a
typically submissive person who needs to exert dominance.”
Draco couldn't conceal his aversion. He would never crave being submissive to
Harry, and he couldn't even imagine Harry wanting to be dominant over anyone
let alone Draco.
Jess lifted her hands in a calm gesture. “I understand that you and your boy
are completely different. The alpha/omega bond is rare and does not follow this
pattern. However, think back to those who seemed dominant around you. Was there
ever a time where you thought you could gain control, or even that somehow in
some little way they might even want you to be in control instead of them?”
Draco looked down at his lap, letting his hair curtain his face. His first
thought was of Raymond. Draco had never been in control over that bastard, but
he hadn't felt submissive in the way Harry felt submissive, either. Raymond had
always been an obstacle to climb over or a force of nature to be endured. Draco
had never respected Raymond, and actually, now that he thought about it,
Raymond had really seemed to like that.
The man had always been careful. He had never forgotten how Draco could poison
him with his body, not until the very end, and then that forgetfulness had been
his death. Why hadn't Raymond gotten rid of him? Draco would never tolerate
that type of threat so close to him.
“Maybe,” he finally answered.
“It will be more apparent as you grow older. The fact that you are a true alpha
means you will bring out the submissive natures even in doms. They may not
grovel, but they will experience instincts to trust, follow, and to serve a
higher goal than 'Self'. Just as Drey and I experienced those things with
Brendon. It can be very powerful for a usually dom person to experience that
sense of belonging that can only be felt with an alpha.”
Draco stared hard into Jess's eyes. She allowed it. “You're lookin' for a new
alpha?”
Jess shook her head. “No. Brendon is still our alpha. If that changes...” She
shrugged. “I don't know.”
“You stayed with the club 'cause of that?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “And to stay close to you. Brendon took you in. As doms in
his pack, we feel driven to watch out for you and Liam now that he is not
here.”
Draco considered that for a minute. Then he lifted his head and asked, “Why
d'ya bring me here to talk about this?”
A slight flush of red appeared on her cheeks. “Just as Drey cannot help it, I
cannot help wanting to test you. It is also a part of instinct. A non-alpha
would have been distressed and unable to be here. You clearly are unaffected in
spite of what happened.” She shrugged. “Maybe you're right and we are
unconsciously looking for another alpha. That is not what we think we want,
however. Not yet.”
Draco nodded. He actually understood that in a weird way. He let his hands
dangle between his knees as he rested his arms on his thighs, fully relaxed for
the first time since they entered the room. “Tell me more about omegas.”
Jess tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Omegas are usually treated poorly without
an alpha and will search for one their whole lives. They tend to be the
scapegoat and punching bag for doms and other subs. I read once that they
function as a stress-reliever to the pack. Of course, this is not true once an
alpha claims them. Once that happens, they are universally protected and doted
on because otherwise they'd face their alpha's wrath.”
Draco scowled, imaging others abusing Harry, and practically growled.
Jess smiled. “I think it's because doms have some quality of submissiveness in
them that need to conquer the dominant elements of a submissive. It reassures
them of their own dominance. An omega does not give that challenge, so they are
useless to them. As for other subs, they need a place to exercise their own
dominance. The omega becomes that for them. Neither doms nor subs usually take
care of the omega after the abusive outbursts. The omega is typically very good
at taking care of themselves. They are resilient and resourceful, so it's a
mystery why they endure the abuse instead of becoming loners, but omegas never
live in isolation. I will do some digging to find out more.”
“Let me know what ya find,” Draco demanded but not harshly.
“Do you forgive Drey?” she asked quietly in return.
He titled his head and studied her for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. We're
okay. But m'boy's off limits. Always.”
“I will make sure she understands, although I think you made your point
earlier,” she offered with a wry smile.
Draco smiled back, giving a display of teeth. “Good.”
“I also would like to make you an offer,” Jess added. Her back straightened as
she looked Draco in the eye. “I would like you to stay tonight. I think it
would help you understand yourself and your boy. I also want you to see this
room as it was meant to be used. The way Brendon, Drey, and I use it.”
Draco stretched and jumped off the couch arm. “Yeah. Okay. But let's head back
up to Liam. I don't want 'em coming down here after me. He doesn't like the
idea of this stuff much.”
Jess stood and followed him to the stairs. “Most don't.”
“He's a sub, ain't he,” Draco asked.
“A type of one, yes.” She looked down at him, curious. “Why?”
He shrugged. “It makes sense, is all.”
Jess said nothing, but her lips curled up into the barest hints of a smile,
thinking, Brendon was right. This boy could become a great alpha, indeed.
                                      xxx
Liam more than didn't like it. He was pissed. Fingers white around the steering
wheel, he glared at the cars in front of them. “I just don't get why you think
it's necessary,” he hissed. “Don't you think you've been around that shit
enough already?”
There was a sigh from the child next to him and a small hand briefly stroked
his shoulder. Liam's teeth began to grind. “Jess thinks it'll help me and
Harry.”
Liam knew that was a wall he couldn't break down. If it was for Harry, Draco
would not hesitate or stop, but Liam still had to try. “But how does she know
that, huh?” He turned his glare on the boy sitting calmly next to him. “She
doesn't even know you or Harry! How can she know what would help?”
Draco shrugged. “She was Brendon's. Why not see?”
Liam jerked his eyes back to the road, hands cramping they gripped the wheel so
tightly. “Damn, Brendon! He wasn't always right, you know! Plus we only have
her word that she was even close to Brendon anyway. Not to mention, there could
be a very real cost to going, Draco. You could be hurt! What if it messes with
you, huh? Those people are just trying to brainwash you. You don't need them!”
“I won't be hurt,” Draco denied, absolutely certain. Liam flung his hands up
with a frustrated cry, and Draco had to raise his voice to be heard. “I can
leave if I don't like it, Liam. No one can keep me where I don't wanna be. Not
anymore. And I know Harry, but I might need to know more to give 'em what he
needs.”
“Fuck!” He punched the steering wheel, whole body shaking with anger. “Harry
doesn't need that shit! It's twisted! You're making a mistake, Draco. Don't go,
please?” He couldn't look at him, couldn't bare to see the stubborn,
unrelenting look he knew Draco would wear.
“I'm going.”
“Fuck,” Liam said again. He pulled into a parking spot and practically jumped
from the car, slamming the door hard behind him. “I'm going to get a drink.”
Shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, he spun and strode
down the street.
                                      xxx
Draco held Harry's face in his hands and smiled as he kissed and licked at the
messy-haired boy's mouth. They were on the couch, Draco's back propped up on
the couch arm, Harry sprawled over his chest and between his legs. Liam hadn't
come home. It bothered him that Liam was so upset, but he wanted to see what
Jess thought was so important, what Brendon had.
He'd told Harry about Jess and Drey, of course, after meeting them the first
time, and he'd given a brief summary of events from earlier that day. Harry
knew he was going with Jess tonight, but Draco hadn't told him about the
basement. Not yet. He wanted to see what was there first before he decided if
Harry should know.
“Let's get ya into bed,” he murmured with a final nip at Harry's bottom lip.
The little boy was humming, –contentment love – pulsing strong through the
bond. He climbed off Draco and waited. Draco got to his feet and took Harry's
hand, leading him into their bedroom. As Harry climbed between the sheets
alone, a slight tinge of – loss – trickled between them.
Draco fisted Harry's hair and stared hard into the bright green eyes. “This
isn't like last time, Harry. No bad feelings. You're gonna sleep just like I
told ya, and I'll be here when ya wake up.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry said softly, blinking sleepily. “Love you.” His small hand
reached out and Draco grabbed it, placing kisses on the boy's palm. It made
Harry giggle, and Draco smiled at him.
“I'll be back before the sun rises,” he promised again.
He waited for Harry's eyes to obediently close before silently leaving the
room. He shut the bedroom door behind him. A quick check revealed that Liam was
still out. Sighing, he grabbed his sweatshirt and jacket. He locked the five
locks on the front door and ran down the steps. He didn't want Jess and Drey to
know their address, so he'd told Jess to pick him up three blocks over at a
convenience store. He'd have to run if he was going to make it in time.
Sure enough, Jess was waiting in a black Mercedes. Draco climbed into the front
and practically sank into the leather seat. Warm air hit his face gently from
the heater. Jess wore all black tonight: a simple corset with a zipper and a
skin-tight miniskirt with sheer black hose and pink stiletto heels. Her hair
was down, falling around her shoulders. Her tattoos were bright on her left
arm, her lips were painted candy pink, and her eyes lined in black.
She offered Draco a happy smile as she pulled away from the curb. “Seat belt.”
Draco snapped the belt on, saying nothing, but he felt anticipation begin to
stir in his stomach. Was the basement that interesting that it could make the
serious Jess giddy? What would the effect of the basement be on Drey?
They pulled into the garage across the street from the club. Just as Draco
remembered it, there were crowds of people ready to dance and drink. Jess cut
through them smoothly, people giving her space almost without realizing it.
Draco followed in her wake to the private door. The electric sound of the club
became muffled as soon as they shut it behind them. A low beat filled the air
in its place.
“Club members have been arriving for the last hour, so a few scenes should be
underway,” Jess explained. “Access to the basement is exclusive. Only those
invited by Brendon, Drey, or me are welcome, so we know everyone personally. I
wouldn't say we're friends, but we're definitely a community. Some of the pairs
are permanent, others only last the night.”
They stepped off the bottom step and into the exhibition room. The lighting was
low, red mixed in with the dull white. The rhythmic low notes of the music
became a physical sensation against his skin. Speaking of which, there was a
lot of skin showing in the crowd around him and a lot of leather.
About twenty people filled the room. A few were lined up at the toy counter.
Others were along the walls. Some were already in chains. Almost every couch
had a couple sitting on them. The stage was empty. Draco counted and there were
only a few more men than women.
Most were boy-girl pairs, but he caught sight of two women together by the
spanking bench and two pairs of men along the walls. Jess was right; there were
no children. The youngest had to be Liam's age. Most were a little older than
that, but only a few were old enough to have grey in their hair.
Jess guided him toward a couch by the stage. A man Brendon's age watched them
approach. He was topless and wore leather pants. His feet were bare, his skin
was dark, and his hair was done in short, thin dreads. An Asian woman knelt as
his feet. She wore a white robe that was see-through, her nipples a soft pink
through the fabric. Her expression was peaceful as the black man stroked her
hair.
“Jason, Mira, good evening,” Jess greeted them.
“Evening,” Jason answered, voice deep and resonant. He pushed two fingers into
Mira's mouth and she began to suck at them happily.
Jess looked down at Draco. “They're a permanent pair. They've been together
more than ten years now and met when they were teens. Mira manages a very
successful clothing store. Jason is a stay-at-home father.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow at that. He met Jason's curious gaze, expression
neutral.
“What's your safe word?” Jess asked him.
“Pineapples,” he answered immediately, still watching Draco. “Or a finger snap,
if she is unable to speak like now. She's had to use it a few times when I
pushed too fast. It's about satisfaction on both sides, not inflicting damage.”
He pulled his fingers out of Mira's mouth and invited her to talk.
She smiled at Draco. “It's great. Jason makes me feel so good. I never feel
more alive than when Jason and I explore our boundaries. It's so freeing to be
able to give up control and know he has me. It's like he's in control of the
world and the world was created just for me.” She blushed hotly and gazed up at
her husband with clear adoration.
Jess smiled at the pair and gestured for Draco to follow her, but he shook his
head.
“I'd like to explore on my own,” he explained. He knew a setup when he saw one.
Jess had definitely prepped Jason and Mira. Not that he thought they were lying
exactly, but their answers were too easy.
Veering away from Jess's side, he moved to the two women he'd spotted earlier.
One was a redhead with large breasts. She wore a button down shirt and
miniskirt with fishnet stockings and black pumps. The girl bound with her hands
above her head had short blond hair. She only wore a bra and had straps
dangling from her lace panties that held her sheer black hose up. She wasn't
wearing shoes.
The redhead glanced at Draco and then away. A soft flogger was held in her hand
and she brought it down in stinging swipes along the blonde's stomach and
thighs. The girl was blindfolded, but it was clear she was aroused. Her face
was flushed and her red-painted lips were open in a wide 'O'. Moans poured from
her mouth. Her pale skin began to redden, and tears began to slip out from
under the blindfold.
“Miranda...” she moaned. “Please, please...”
The redhead glanced at Draco once more. He could tell she was uncomfortable,
but he didn't move away. Straightening her shoulders, Miranda began to rain the
flogger down between the girl's legs. “You may cum,” she said in a surprisingly
sweet voice. “That's a good girl. Let me have it.”
The blonde arched off the wall, her thighs straining to close even as they were
held apart. The redhead continued whipping her softly. As soon as the girl went
limp, Miranda was moving forward, stroking the girl's trembling skin and
whispering in her ear. Draco gave them privacy.
He was drawn to the two men next. The dom was older with grey in his jet black
hair. He looked Latin with smooth caramel skin, thick eyebrows, and teal blue
eyes. He was also bare-chested, wearing only a pair of tight blue jeans. His
shoulders were broad, muscular but not overly so. He stood behind the younger
man with a paddle in his hand. Silver studs on the wooden surface shone in the
light. The submissive was thin, pale, and covered in freckles. He also had long
red hair that pooled on the floor by his head as he hung bent in half over the
bench on his knees. He was also completely naked.
Draco watched through unblinking eyes, looking for cruelty, as the stronger,
bigger man drew his hand back. The smaller rocked forward with the blow, and a
soft wuff could be heard over the music. Draco moved to the side to see the
submissive's face and drew the dom's attention. The man's eyes narrowed and he
halted his next strike mid-swing.
Ignoring, the dom for now, Draco crouched down by the redhead. This close he
could see it was dyed, the roots dark. He didn't try and touch the sub, knowing
better, but he did get close enough to see the man's red, tear-stained cheeks
and the lost look in his eyes. He wasn't really seeing Draco; he looked right
through him. Another blow and those eyes closed as the sub let out a weak cry
before blinking open again. The lost look shrank, and after the third hit, he
was actually seeing Draco.
The sub blushed a hot red and turned his face away. Draco immediately rose and
moved out of the sub's line of sight. The dom was frowning severely. Draco
glared back. The next blow had the sub crying out, pleasure and pain mixing in
the sound.
Draco turned his back on them and almost ran into a woman dressed very similar
to Drey in a black corset and leather pants. She had a flogger in her hand, her
dark hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a smile on her lips. She wore no
make-up.
“What's a little darling like you doing here?” she asked in a purr.
“What's it to you?” Draco demanded cooly, crossing his arms.
She chuckled and brought the flogger up under his chin. “How old are you,
sugar?”
Draco grinned at her, all teeth and silver eyes. “Five.”
The woman was too dumb to pick up on his warnings. She was breathing hard, her
pupils dilated. “Wanna play with me?”
Draco lowered his eyes. He'd given her enough warning; now it was time for
punishment. He heard a zipper being drawn down and his eyes flashed up through
the curtain of his hair to see her opening her corset and revealing her
breasts. The nipples were dark and already hard.
“Come sit with Mama,” she purred and reached for his arm. “I have a nice treat
for you.”
Movement out of the corner of his eye; Drey cutting through the shadows. He
flashed his hand in a cutting gesture. This was his. He wouldn't accept her
interference. She slowed but still moved toward them. Draco went into the
woman's embrace when she tugged him toward her. Let her long nails slide
through his hair and cradle the back of his head head. Allowed her to pull his
head toward her chest. He took her nipple into his mouth, felt the small ball
roll against his tongue as the round, soft skin pressed into his lips. With a
throaty cry, she tumbled back onto a couch, Draco clutched in her arms.
Reaching up, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand off his head, even as the
cold was uncoiling in his gut. He applied pressure on her breast with his teeth
and suddenly her gasp was one of pain. He let his spit coat her skin
thoroughly, cold hatred sinking in, before pulling away. He hadn't made her
bleed, so she should live, but he knew that enough of his spit had gotten on
her to cause her to be very ill.
He danced out of the way, eyes glittering in triumph, as she suddenly curled
forward and vomited. Then Drey was there and hauling her up. She had to put the
woman in a headlock to march her toward the stairs, the bitch unable to walk
straight.
Jess appeared at his side, her eyes wide. “Draco...”
“I think you have it wrong,” he said, mouth still tingling with poison.
“Animals don't have trust an' love, Jess. Not like humans do. And if someone
goes too animal and losses that, then all that's left is hunger. They become
sick, like you said, and the sick get culled.”
She gasped as her suspicion was confirmed. It hadn't been a coincidence that
the woman had gotten sick.
Drey reappeared, long black hair more tangled than before, but there was a
flush to her cheeks that said she enjoyed the violence. “She must have taken
something before she got here. I think she's overdosing. I let the boys in
front of the club take her and called an ambulance. She was Tristan's plus one.
I've also escorted him out and told him he wasn't welcome back.” Her eyes
flashed and she unconsciously stroked her knuckles, which were bloody. “The
rule is everyone is one hundred percent responsible for anyone they bring.”
Then, taking a deep breath, she finally acknowledged Draco. She crouched so
that they were eye-level. “Are you okay?” she asked solemnly.
Draco gave her a small smile. “I'm fine. Who's gonna clean up the mess?”
There was vomit in a wide swath along the floor, and now that he was paying
attention, he saw that the party had come to a stop. Everyone was standing
around, clearly waiting for something, every eye on Jess and Drey.
He looked up at Jess. “Is the party over?”
She said nothing for a long second, then, “Do you want it to be?”
Draco shook his head. “I wanna see more because I don't think I'll be back.
It's interesting, but I don't think my boy needs this. At least, not right
now.”
Jess bowed her head and turned toward the stage. Drey stood and went the other
way, toward the secret door behind the toy counter and likely toward the
cleaning supplies, but then Draco's whole attention was on Jess. She commanded
the room.
“I apologize for the disruption. One of our number was not careful enough when
choosing his plus one.” Her eyes pierced the room. “Let this be a reminder that
not all who come to this life are looking for a shared experience based on
trust. Those who come for other reasons are not welcome here.” She clapped her
hands and it seemed everyone could breathe again. “I invite you to continue
your night. The incident has been handled.” She turned and walked regally off
the stage.
Drey gave a low whistle, having returned to Draco's side at some point. She had
a mop and bucket, and when she saw that Draco was watching her, she gave him a
wicked grin and began to clean up the mess. Draco tossed her a salute and moved
to the toy counter. He grabbed a juice and waited for the music to lull
everyone back to their partners. A few minutes later a sound caught his
attention.
There was a woman with sky blue hair cut in a short bob at one of the nearby
couches. She was dressed in a business suit without the undershirt. The black
jacket revealed much of her chest. She was with a young, naked man who was on
his back on the couch, his arms flung over his head. She had her fingers in his
ass and was doing something that made the man howl with pleasure. He drifted
over.
“What're you doin'?” he asked quietly.
She looked up with a little frown, but when the man on the couch whimpered, her
attention shifted back to the sub. She smiled. “There's a place inside a man.
Not far. If you touch it, it makes them sing, isn't that right?” She had a
slight accent and a warm, deep voice. Her fingers flexed and Draco watched as
the sub arched, eyes wild with pleasure.
“Yes, Mistress! Oh, god, yes!”
Draco tilted his head curiously. “Where?”
She regarded him for a long minute before answering. “It might be too small in
you since you are so young. Even if it wasn't, it can be hard to touch yourself
there.” She looked at the flushed man curiously. “Lucas, will you let me show
this boy your treasure?”
The man's blue eyes went wide, but he nodded his head. “Anything you want,
Mistress.”
“Remember your word,” she said as she took her fingers from his body. She
uncapped a jar of lubrication and offered it to Draco. “Spread this on your
fingers. Let's see if we can show you.”
Draco did so, and then she took his hand in hers, their skin sliding slickly
together. She pressed his fingers to the man's opening, as those long legs were
drawn up to his chest. One leg hooked over the back of the couch. The hole was
pink, shiny with lube, and already open. Draco's three middle fingers slid
easily inside with two of the dom's. It was warm inside and soft. The muscles
undulated against his fingers.
Lucas was making interesting sounds, but Draco was more focused on where the
woman was guiding him. His hand was half inside the sub when he felt it. It was
like a small roundness inside the warm, rippling walls. He felt her press
gently and rub the gland. Draco copied her and the sub made a sound very much
like singing just as promised.
“What happens if ya keep touchin' it?” he asked her as she pulled her fingers
free, letting Draco explore on his own.
She grinned almost evilly, her long-fingered hand running lightly up and down
the sub's twitching, red cock. “My darling won't last long knowing an innocent
little boy is exploring his body, fingering him open. Knowing his mistress is
using him as a teaching tool, nothing more than an anatomy doll. Are you
watching, Lucas? I want you to see his small little hand moving as he presses
inside you.”
Lucas lifted his head, mouth open in a pant and obediently looked at where
Draco's fingers were entering his body.
Draco watched, fascinated, as the man went tense, and then he was cumming. The
white stuff Draco was so familiar with came spurting out, Lucas screaming.
Draco kept touching the spot they had shown him, rubbing and pressing. The sub
shivered and jerked and broke into sobs.
Draco looked up at the woman, brow arched, but didn't stop.
“It is sensitive. The button of pleasure becomes painful after the big moment,
doesn’t it, my sweet?”
“Yes, Mistress, please!” the sub cried out, body shivering and twitching with
every stroke of Draco's fingers. The sub's channel was beginning to tighten
around him again after having gone loose.
Draco rubbed until the woman nodded her head. He withdrew his fingers and Lucas
instantly went limp, dazed and drooling. “So it always shoots?” he questioned,
wiping his hand on his jeans.
Running her fingers through the warm wet spunk on the sub's stomach and
watching Draco thoughtfully, she gave a nod at his question. “Always, unless
something snug is wrapped around the base to prevent it or the hole is plugged.
Not letting the white stuff come out can be painful if held off too long, but
also fun.”
“What about big moments that don't make cum?” he insisted.
“That can happen if it is prevented by the bondage.” She traced her finger
around the base of the sub's penis and balls. “But if you're talking about you,
that is because of your age. You will not cum until you are nine to eleven
years old. I suspect closer to nine if you have been stimulated this young.”
Draco sighed. It always came down to age. He nodded his thanks and turned to
leave when she touched his shoulder. He looked back.
“There is no rush. Your body is a beautiful thing and so is the pleasure it can
create, but it can wait a few years, yes?”
Draco stared back at her baffled. Why the hell would he wait? Who cared if he
couldn't cum. It still felt amazing to kiss and touch Harry, and Harry craved
it more than Draco did! There was no reason to wait just for cum. It was messy
and smelly. In fact, it seemed smarter to do it more now before cum became an
issue and less once it did. He shook his head and waved her off, slipping back
into the shadows. His first stop would be the bathroom. He had to pee and he
wanted to wash his hands.
Chapter end.
I hope this was not too much explanation/talking. More action packed chapters
will be coming very soon.
Question:How many of you would mind if I “discover” Harry's parseltongue before
his 11th birthday?
 
***** Morning After *****
                                     A/N:
It's my birthday today! So I decided to give you guys a present. An early
chapter.
                                      ...
                                 Morning_After
A thump pulled Harry from shifting dreams. Blinking open his eyes, he sat up,
calling sleepily, “Draco?” Another thump and the sound of glass breaking.
Concerned, Harry climbed from the bed and unlocked the bedroom door. He peered
out into the hall and saw Liam leaning against the living room wall near the
kitchen. The kitchen light was on, spilling over Liam's slumped form, the rest
of the room dark.
Harry hurried forward. “Liam? Are you okay?”
The man looked up at him blurrily, squinting, his wavy dark hair tangled around
his face. He smiled sloppily and reached for Harry, missing by a wide margin.
Off balance, he slid down the wall into a clumsy sit. “Arry! Hey. Sorry 'bout
that. Didn't see the step,” he said in a mumble and laughed.
Harry smiled uncertainly since there was no step. The smell of strong drink
rose from both Liam and the spill on the wood floor. He ducked his head and
began picking up the broken glass. He was calm. Scenes of this nature weren't
unfamiliar to him. Uncle had often gotten drunk and it had always been his job
to deal with it. Aunt refused to be in the same room as Uncle when he'd been
like this, so Harry knew what to do: be quiet and small and help as much as
possible so that he didn't turn Liam's happy mood into anger. Although the
anger always came. Harry always made mistakes, was always bad and needed
correction.
Accepting that as right, Harry carried the broken glass to the trash, oblivious
to the small cuts it made on his fingers and palms. Liam's laughter had fallen
silent as he stared darkly down at the spill. Harry hurried over with a kitchen
rag and began to mop it up, keeping his head ducked. He was already messing up,
always too slow, too stupid.
“Don't know what that kid is thinkin'!” Liam suddenly burst out. “Beaten and
raped half his life and going back for more.” He punched his thigh. “Brendon
just had to have those stupid games in that damned basement and now Draco
thinks it's normal!”
Harry risked a glance up to see Liam's eyes glittering and staring right at
him.
“Thinks he's doing it for you, going back there, but he's not. He's just going
back to what he knows. Gonna get beat and raped by those sickos in leather.
Hell, is it even rape? It's not like he's fightin' it. Not like he listens to a
damn word I say.” Suddenly, Liam was crying, fat tears spilling down his
cheeks. He crawled over and grabbed Harry by the shoulders. “You'll tell him
not to go back, right, Harry? Tell him it doesn't help you for him to get hurt?
That you don't need him to do that for you?”
Harry, naked because he slept naked, hung passive in Liam's grasp. Draco was at
the basement? Brendon's basement? A confused tangle of images flashed through
his mind: his mouth being stretched and painfully filled, suffocation, piercing
agony throughout his jaw and butt, nearly overwhelming terror; but it was also
jumbled up with Draco leaning over him, silver eyes flashing, You first, Harry.
Then me, being so full, Draco around and inside him, the near blinding pleasure
of it, the crushing need to clean Draco's skin and heal him, make him moan and
melt, the sheer joy when he was finally allowed. It was all overwhelming and
made his heart beat hard, but he knew one thing for sure.
He lifted his hand and boldly began petting Liam's hair the way he'd seen Draco
do before. “It's okay. Draco will come back,” he said with absolute certainty.
“Even if he gets hurt, he'll come back and I'll fix him. Promise, Liam. I'm his
and I'll make Draco better.” It was his one goal, his one purpose, the only
thing that made him good. Everything for Draco, all things, anything, Harry was
Draco's, forever.
Liam's dragged Harry into his lap and began rocking back and forth. Harry lay
in his grasp and pet the arm that held him so tightly. He wished he knew how to
make Liam feel the same surety that he did, but he didn't know how. He was
useless, but that was okay because Draco would be back soon. He'd know what to
do. Peaceful, calm, he waited for Draco.
Except he must have fallen asleep because he was dreaming of something fluffy
when a cool hand on his head and the call of his name pulled him awake. Harry
blinked open his eyes and smiled, seeing Draco standing over him, touching his
head. It was still dark, the kitchen light the only illumination. It cast half
of Draco's face in shadow, but the other half was hard, the single visible eye
filled with cold anger. It was just like in the Hold, and – worried – Harry
reached for him, thinking he was injured like Liam had said he would be.
Draco immediately grabbed his wrist and tugged hard, pulling him from Liam's
tight hold. The man toppled onto his side with a grunt and started to snore.
Feeling Draco's grip tighten painfully, Harry turned his attention back to the
blond – self-hate shame – How could he look away from Draco? He couldn't do
anything right. “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly, staring anxiously into
silver.
“Why would I be?” Draco asked coldly. “More important, why were ya sleepin'
with Liam?”
Harry flinched at the accusing tone – horror fear– and sank to his knees. Draco
didn't release his wrist and continued to stand over him, making his shoulder
pull painfully. “Sorry, Draco! I didn't know it was bad!” Tears drenched his
cheeks. “I won't do it again!”
Draco squeezed harder, leaving bruises. “Answer me. What happened?”
Harry gasped. “Liam's drunk. He dropped a glass. I tried to clean it quick,
Draco! He was upset you went to the basement. I tried to tell him you'd be
back, I really did, but he didn't understand. He was crying and hugged me. I
knew you'd come home and make him understand. I waited for you, Draco, I didn't
mean to fall asleep! I'm sorry, Draco, sorry, so sorry, I'm don't mean to be
bad!”
By this point he was sobbing, practically curled up on the floor, arm twisted
upward. Then Draco was pulling him up, wrapped his other arm around him, and
crashed their mouths together in a hard, wet kiss. Harry gasped, opening his
mouth to Draco, and clung to the blond's shirt. Impossible words filled his
mind.
* You did good, Harry. Good boy. I just didn't like seeing you naked in his
arms. Don't want anyone touching your naked body. You're such a good boy,
taking care of Liam, waiting for me. Love you, Harry. I'm not mad at you. *
- love guilt trust want -
Draco broke their wet kisses, a string of saliva connecting their mouths for a
moment before he pulled away and got them on their feet. “Let's go to bed. I'm
tired.”
Harry followed without resistance. “Liam?”
“He's fine on the floor,” Draco answered, voice cold again. He shut and locked
the bedroom door behind them. He only let go of Harry long enough to pull off
his clothes, then he grabbed Harry's hand again and pulled him to bed.
Once they were between the sheets, Draco lying on his back, Harry sighed
happily and pressed close to the blond's side, - guilt worry -still making his
stomach heavy. He'd been stupid, hadn't put clothes on when he'd gone to Liam,
now Draco was mad.
“Harry.” Draco fisted Harry's hair, forced Harry's head up and their eyes to
meet. Draco's were a warm grey once more. “It's okay. I've got ya. I'll take
care of Liam tomorrow. Everything's gonna be okay.”
Harry melted, going limp in Draco's firm hold – grateful trust – although he
couldn't completely shake the – guilt. “Please, Draco...” he whispered, needing
to earn forgiveness.
Draco's eyes became heavy as he released his hold on Harry's hair. “Yes,” he
rasped. “Yes, Harry.”
Harry whimpered, tears welling. He moved his mouth to the underside of Draco's
jaw, sucking, licking, kissing, - love grateful adoration need – shooting
through him like burning meteors. The sound of the soft moan his mouth pulled
from Draco set Harry's skin afire.
Panting, he licked his way down to Draco's throat. Every time the blond's
breath hitched, Harry sucked a little harder. Soon Draco's fingers were tangled
in his hair again, petting and scratching, and Harry moaned into the blond's
red-flushed skin.
All the times he'd been allowed this gift flashed through his mind. Remembering
made him feel tingly and hot and needy. He wanted to make Draco arch and
scream, wanted to see him melt and see that warm, peaceful smile Draco only
ever wore after Harry touched him just right.
“Please, Draco,” he begged, damp face pressed into Draco's neck, needing
direction, craving Draco's pleasure more than he needed air, but not sure what
to do or where to start.
Always giving him what he needed, Draco gripped his hair and firmly pushed him
down to his chest. “Suck them,” he growled, eyes dark and deep in the faint
light coming through their window.
Harry immediately latched onto the small, pale nipple. He moved his tongue
around and over, sucking and wetting the skin. Soon he felt the nipple ball up
and Draco gave a delicious groan. Heart in his throat, Harry bit gently,
sucking harder, making the skin wetter and wetter. Draco was arching into his
mouth, pulling at his hair, and Harry hummed happily. Yes, this is what he
wanted!
“Other one,” Draco gasped, panting.
Harry shifted, sprawled over Draco's body, and latched onto the other nipple.
He licked and sucked as if he were starving and Draco's skin fed him.
After a long minute, the blond began to tremble and began to rock his hips up
into Harry's lower stomach, their damp skin sliding, sending shocks of
sensation through Harry's body. Sparks flashed deep in his gut, felt so good!
Harry pressed down against Draco's thrusts, gasping and moaning around the skin
sucked into his mouth.
“Yes, Harry... Love you, love you...” Draco hissed, wrapping his other arm
around Harry's lower back, pressing him down hard and rocking up faster.
Arrows of hot pleasure shot straight through Harry's core and he began to
thrust with Draco's movements, feeling the wave coming... coming closer...
Nipping, sucking, licking, he kept at Draco's skin, mouthing the blond's chest,
switching back to the other side when the hand in his hair loosened. He rocked
and thrust and felt the wave crest. Draco was making high-pitched “uh, uh, uh”
sounds that made Harry whimper and spread his legs, practically vibrating, and
then the wave crashed.
Harry's mouth came off Draco with a wet pop as he arched and cried out, blind
and burning burning burning...
Collapsing across the trembling blond, Harry gasped and panted, blinking sweat
from his eyes. Draco hummed, his chest vibrating with the sound. He was smiling
that soft, special smile that Harry adored.
– happy satisfaction peace lovelovelovelove –
                                      xxx
An imperious little foot poked him in the shoulder, and Liam cracked open dry
and bleary eyes to see Draco, arms crossed, frowning down at him with a
condemning look. In response, he groaned and covered his eyes with his arm.
“How much of last night do you remember?” Draco asked archly.
Liam frowned and thought back. The bar, a few friends, the burning anger that
had nowhere to go, getting dropped off at home, Harry... talking to Harry?
Wincing as his headache spiked, Liam moved his arm to peer up at Draco again.
He realized suddenly that he was on the floor between the living room and the
kitchen. It was uncomfortable as hell, but more importantly, had he talked to
Harry drunk? Horrified, he vaguely remembered tears and warm skin held safe in
his arms.
“Shit,” he hissed. Draco was gonna kill him. Maybe he already had? His stomach
was beginning to roll, sweat dampened his brow and temples, his arms trembled
with weakness as he tried to push up into a sitting position. Were his nails
discolored slightly? “How long do I got?” he rasped, barely managing to swallow
down the bile that surged up his throat.
The little bastard chuckled. He squinted up at the devil-child. Couldn't he at
least be kind in his last few moments? Liam had done his fucking best, okay?
Not that Draco ever fucking appreciated it. No, instead all he got was a head-
fuck and a painful death.
“You're not dying.” Draco uncrossed his arms and helped Liam sit more upright.
“What the hell were you thinking coming back this drunk? I came home to find
you out cold wrapped around Harry, a naked Harry by the way! He cut his fingers
picking up your broken glass. You owe him. So today you're taking us to the
zoo.”
Liam blinked stupidly for a minute, trying to process the flood or words. “If
you don't help me to the toilet, I'm gonna splatter the floor,” he finally
managed in reply.
Draco made a face but dutifully helped Liam stagger to his feet and supported
him as much as he could on the way to the bathroom. Liam slammed the door in
the blond's face and just managed to make it to the bowl before he was heaving.
                                      xxx
Harry was warm and content when Draco returned to the bedroom, still warm from
their wake-up activity. Draco had Harry heal the small cuts on his palms. While
sprawled on his back, his mouth warm on his own skin, Draco had licked and
sucked between Harry's legs. It had been incredible, so much so that Harry
still felt limp and lazy.
Draco smiled that special smile, all soft and relaxed, as he leaned on the bed
and ran a hand through Harry's wild hair. “Time to get up, Harry. Got a
surprise for ya.”
Harry leaned into the caresses and hummed.
Draco laughed and took his hand away, pulling the blankets off Harry's naked
body. “Come on.”
Harry sat up and languidly crawled from the bed. He wrapped his arms around
Draco and leaned into his warmth. Draco let him, hugging him for a long minute
before pulling away. He went to their drawers and began to toss clothes on the
bed. Harry obediently pulled them on, smiling as Draco tugged everything into
perfect arrangement before taking his hand and leading him into the living
room.
“I'm gonna check on Liam. Get breakfast ready.”
“Yes, Draco,” Harry chirped.
Draco gave him another smile before heading toward Liam's bedroom.
They didn't return until Harry had finished cooking and washing the dishes.
He'd put the plates in the oven to stay warm and as soon as he heard footsteps
coming down the hall, he began to take them out and set them on the table. His
eyes immediately went to Draco. The blond looked annoyed and Liam looked ill.
Harry felt his stomach drop in worry, but Draco waved him off when he tried to
go to their sides.
“No,” Draco said simply and tapped the table where Harry usually sat. “Eat and
then we'll go.”
Harry obediently slid into his chair, but he kept shooting Liam worried
glances. The man caught Harry looking and grimaced. He fished sunglasses out of
his pocket and slid them on. Harry looked to Draco in entreaty, but the blond
shook his head again, saying into Harry's mind, * You're not to heal him. Don't
ask again. *
After breakfast, Draco bundled them up in sweatshirts and jackets, gloves and
scarves. He even made sure Liam grabbed his before they locked the apartment
behind them. Harry's gloves were bright red, his scarf a deep blue with white
stripes. Draco's was dark green, his gloves black. Both of their jackets were
black and bulky, but their hoodies' sleeves poked out at the wrist (Draco's
dark blue, Harry's dark purple) and covered half of their gloved hands. They
wore their jeans and sneakers with thick socks. So despite the stinging bite in
the late February air, they were warm and happy.
Harry snuggled his face into the folds of his fluffy scarf, his nose red, as he
held tight to Draco's hand. The blond was relaxed and cheerful once more. Liam
remained silent and aloof, but he didn't seem as sick as he had at breakfast,
although he did walk much slower than usual.
Harry gaped as they made their way to the subway system. He'd never seen
anything like it before. Draco was just as interested as Liam showed him a map
and explained that there were many lines that took you all different places. He
demonstrated buying tickets and they boarded one of the silver trains. Harry
sat on his knees with his face pressed to the glass as he watched stations and
tunnels whirl past. Draco sat next to him, his attention on the people riding
with them. Liam slouched in the corner, glasses still firmly on his face.
The ride was fun. When they got off, they climbed the stairs to find themselves
only a few blocks away from Central Park.
“We're going to the park, Draco?” Harry asked, excitedly.
Draco smirked and didn't answer.
Harry's eyes grew wide as they finally reached the zoo entrance. He clung to
Draco's arm, practically hugging it. Draco gave him a smile and kissed Harry's
temple. “I've never been to the zoo,” Harry admitted softly, suddenly feeling
uncertain. He didn't deserve it.
“Me, neither,” Draco answered and gave Harry a look. “We're gonna have fun.” He
glanced up at Liam. “Right?”
Liam sighed, but his mouth pulled into a reluctant smile. “A blast.”
Harry's heart pounded. Draco pulled free and ran ahead through the gates, a big
grin on his face, nose and cheeks red from the cold. Harry chased after him,
laughing. Following more slowly, Liam trudged along in their wake. They
practically had the zoo to themselves since it was a workday and winter.
                                      ...
Their first stop was the sea lion exhibit that sat in the center of the zoo.
Harry practically pressed his face to the glass as he watched the surprisingly
graceful and fast animals swim. Draco laughed as the zookeeper had them do
tricks for fish. Liam, sitting on the bleachers, lounging back, cracked a smile
and laughed. For once, Draco and Harry were acting their ages: shouting and
laughing and clapping. Draco practically jumped up and down, arms waving in the
air, when the zookeeper asked for a volunteer to help with their next trick.
Harry boucned on his toes, hands clasped under his chin in his excitement when
Draco was chosen.
The blond stood in front of about a dozen people and tossed the sea lion fish,
making it jump. He looked happy and kept shooting Harry grins. Liam wished he'd
brought his camera. Getting up, he quickly made his way to the woman sitting a
few feet down from him.
“Can you take a few pictures? I forgot my camera,” he asked her, flashing his
most charming grin. Adding the cherry on top, he shifted his weight shyly and
bashfully ruffled his hair in the back, the wavy black locks falling free to
his shoulders and around his face.
“Of course!” She smiled and dutifully snapped a few pictures of Draco as he
finished his act.
“I really appreciate it,” Liam told her warmly. “Can I call them over and you
can get a quick one with the tank in the back?”
“That's a great idea,” she gushed.
Liam waved the boys over. Harry was hugging Draco's arm, looking into his face
as if Draco were the only one in the world and was asking questions a mile a
minute about Draco's act, even though he'd witnessed the whole thing. Draco was
grinning and laughing, slipping answers in here and there when Harry let him.
“Stand together,” Liam requested and tilted his head toward the camera.
For a split second, Draco tensed. Harry instantly picked up on the tension and
fell silent and shy, hiding his face from the woman and her gawking toddlers.
Liam came to them and crouched down, slipping his sunglasses off his face. He
looked in Draco's eyes and offered him a reassuring smile.
“To remember today,” he said softly.
Draco relaxed and his smile returned. Harry peeked out. Liam gave them both a
smile and wrapped an arm around their backs, Harry safe in the middle. The
woman took several pictures, telling them they looked great. Harry looked happy
and excited about that.
“I've never taken a picture before,” he exclaimed, but then followed it up with
a correction. “Well, except for the one on the boat.”
Liam shivered, knowing Harry meant the one for the sex catalogue.
“That one doesn't count,” Draco said fiercely and hugged Harry close. “Sides
this one has all of us together.”
Harry, sweet eyes smiling up at Liam, asked, “Cause we're a family?”
Throat tight, Liam nodded. “Yeah. Cause we're a family.” He met Draco's eyes
belatedly, checking to see if he had overstepped himself, but the blond was
smiling a smug smile, arms still wrapped around Harry. Blushing, Liam looked
away.
The woman couldn't help overhearing this and had tears in her eyes. Liam
quickly stood and thanked her again, telling her a quick story about adopting
the boys recently. He gave her his postoffice box address and she promised to
mail the pictures as soon as she got them developed.
“What are the odds of actually seeing those pictures?” Draco asked as they
walked away.
“One hundred percent chance,” Liam said with a laugh. “She was over the moon
about you two.”
Just then they saw a building with pictures of penguins outside and Harry made
a little gaspy sound of excitement. Draco laughed and raced into the building,
Harry running behind him. Liam followed at his own pace. His head was still
pounding, but he felt much better than he had.
They saw penguins, sea birds, owls, and other animals in the building. Liam
read all the plaques of information and whenever they found a zookeeper, Draco
would grill them for more information about the animals. He seemed particularly
interested in how the animals acted toward each other and how group dynamics
worked. Liam guessed it was because they had seen two penguins fighting each
other when they'd first stepped in.
Harry, he noticed, did not talk to strangers. He did not ask questions of the
zookeeper. He spoke to Draco and to Liam only, but even then, he only ever
asked Draco questions. Liam sighed, regretful of Harry's complete reliance on
Draco, but refused to let it hamper his day.
It was nearing noon by the time they left the exhibits in the penguin building
and they were getting hungry. The boys weren't ready to stop, however, so Liam
bought some popcorn and sodas. Sitting on a bench in the sun, Liam listened as
the boys chatted away about the animals they'd seen so far and making guesses
on what other animals were at the zoo. Liam was almost done with his popcorn
when a yellow buttery puff hit him on the cheek. Raising an eyebrow, he looked
over at Draco who was grinning unrepentantly.
Popcorn flew fast and furious as they jumped off the bench, armed. Harry
shrieked laughter and helped Draco pelt Liam with the greasy kernels. Bags ran
empty and Liam upended his over the blond's head, sending a shower of salt on
the kid and then diving in to tickle the blond's sides. He only got a few good
seconds in, the blond wiggling and screaming laughter, face flushed and eyes
sparkling, when Harry jumped on his back, making Liam topple on his butt. Then
he had an armful of two wiggling boys trying to tickle him.
Twitching, thrashing, Liam burst out with full-bellied laughter before he
managed to bolt to his feet and escape. Giggling, the boys leaned on each
other, their scarves dangling loose around their necks, as they followed Liam
to the bathroom to clean up and use the toilets. Liam was just glad their
drinks hadn't been involved in their impromptu food war.
                                      ...
Harry felt like he were floating or dreaming, except even his dreams were never
as good as today. It was all so amazing that for a while Harry thought of
nothing else. They saw amazing animals and learned so many new things as Liam
read all the informational plaques out loud for them. The zookeepers taught
them even whenever they found one.
Draco laughed at the snow monkeys as they sat bunched up and groomed each
other. The polar bears had a wrestling match. The snow leopards stared at them
from behind the glass, making him shiver. They ran here and there, every new
thing better than the last.
But as the day began to warm and they finally stopped for lunch, the weird
floaty feeling began to tremble at the edges of Harry's mind. He was having
fun, too much fun. Sitting at a cafe table, eating the sandwich Liam had
bought, something Harry hadn't cooked or helped make, he felt a sudden
overpowering wave of self-hate. He'd been bad last night, made Draco mad and
got Liam in trouble, he wasn't helping at all today, not even with lunch or
cleaning, he was a burden. He shouldn't be happy, shouldn't be here. Hands
beginning to shake, he couldn't catch his breath.
“Harry? You okay?” Liam's concern stung and Harry flinched away when the man
tried to touch his arm.
Harry looked to Draco, - apology self-hate need -almost overwhelming him.
The blond stared at him, face perfectly blank, no longer smiling, and Harry
burst into loud sobs - guilt hatehatehate. He didn't know how to stop, knew he
was wrecking a perfect day, breaking Draco's happiness, but couldn't stop
getting worse can't stop!
“Stay here,” Draco told Liam, face perfectly calm and took Harry by the hand.
“Sure,” Liam answered, clearly worried.
Harry followed, shaking and sobbing as Draco led him to the bathrooms. It was
empty, and Draco took him to the handicap stall. There was a plastic thing on
the wall. Draco unlatched it and a plastic shelf opened up. Shaking, almost
sick with from crying so hard, Harry obediently leaned against the shelf as
Draco pressed him against it. Hooking his arms over the edge, Harry buried his
face into the sleeves of his dark purple hoodie, his jacket and scarf left at
the table.
Draco, still silent, reached around and unbuttoned Harry's jeans. He pushed
them down with the underwear and pressed on Harry's inner thighs, making him
open his legs as much as possible. Harry had no idea what Draco was going to
do, but he - hoped hated needed -so much.
Mumbling, almost incoherent through his loud, wet cries, Harry begged, staring
at Draco over his shoulder with desperate green eyes, “Make it stop please I'm
sorry so bad I'm a burden freak don't deserve it but please help me Draco make
it stop I'm sorry!”
* Don't make a sound, Harry. Keep it in. I want you to focus on the pain. Feel
every bit of it. You didn't trust me to know that it was okay to be happy and
now I'm going to punish you. *
Harry sucked in a breath, pressed his face back into his arms, and rode the
pain as Draco began pinching his soft inner thighs hard enough to bruise. The
blond pinched and twisted sharply, making the pain flare hot and bright.
Trembling, Harry went limp, practically hanging on the shelf. It
hurthurthurt!But it settled him, shut the spiraling thoughts and hate away,
shut them up.
Yes, punish me. Need it. Deserve it. Good. Wanna be good,but he couldn't say it
out loud, was ordered to be silent.
* You're mine, Harry. It's not bad to be happy because you're mine and that
means I'm happy. All of you is mine, even your heart and feelings. Did you
forget? *
Harry flung his head up, head thrashing back and forth in quick denial. Never
forget, yours Draco please, I'm sorry! he thought desperately.
* I know what you need, Harry. I'm going to make sure you don't forget for a
long time what it means to be mine. *
And agony exploded through his body, blindingly hot, consuming pain. Harry had
no idea what happened. Only it hurt perfectly and everything else disappeared.
Everything but pain.
He faded back into himself... Found he was slouched against the wall underneath
the shelf, Draco wrapped around him, face buried in his neck. Harry was limp in
his arms, his jeans and underwear around his knees still, butt cold on the tile
floor. His lower half throbbed hotly with every breath. Hurt didn't even begin
to cover it.
Slowly he was able to pinpoint the source of the pain to between his legs,
behind his privates, on the skin right behind his balls. Hurt! Tears streaking
his face, Harry turned his head, wondering if he was allowed to speak. He felt
perfectly calm. Pain and silence inside. It was perfect.
Almost dreamily, he lifted a hand and began to pet Draco's hair the way Draco
always did to him. He felt Draco smile against the skin of his neck, and Harry
felt a glimmer of happiness return. After a few moments more, Draco pulled
away. He said nothing as he helped Harry get to his feet. The pain so bright
and hot still, but Harry made not a sound as his pants and underwear were
pulled up and fastened.
“You didn't scream,” Draco whispered into his ear. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”
Harry opened his mouth eagerly as Draco began kissing him, holding him tight
against his chest. Melting, hurting, happy, Harry leaned into his embrace and
let Draco's mouth and kisses fill him. Their hearts slowed, sweat dried on
their skin. Harry felt dizzy, lips tingling, when Draco finally pulled away.
“We're gonna finish eatin' an then have fun, right, Harry?” Draco asked, hands
framing Harry's face as he stared into his eyes.
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered sweetly, smiling, still throbbing between his
legs. He waddled painfully after the blond.
                                      ...
Draco felt tingly all over and hypersensitive to Harry's emotions through the
bond as they returned to the table. His boy was back to feeling peaceful and
happy, grateful and full of love. Pain twinned through it all, but that was
what Harry had needed. The bruises from his claiming two weeks ago in the woods
after Harry's breakdown had faded. Maybe he would always need to wear Draco's
marks. Something happy and excited twisted Draco's stomach at the thought.
Harry was his in a way that was absolute and primal. Harry's body wearing proof
made them both feel good.
Liam's brows were bunched, his blue eyes watching Harry carefully as the boy
sat down and winced. “You okay, Harry?” he asked gently.
Harry reached toward him and Liam took the offered hand, squeezing it. “Sorry,
Liam,” Harry apologized quietly, cheeks red with embarrassment.
Draco cleared his throat and they both looked over. “After we eat, what else is
there to see?” he asked, calm and smiling. He didn't want Liam putting worry
into his boy and ruining all of his work.
Liam stared at him for a moment. Draco could see the lingering illness and the
deep uncertainty. He knew Draco had hurt Harry somehow, but he also realized
Harry was no longer having a panic attack. Eventually, Liam's blue eyes dropped
from his and he began to pick bits of bread off of his sandwich.
“The petting zoo opened a few minutes ago,” he answered awkwardly.
Draco squeezed Harry's hand comfortingly and picked up his own sandwich. Harry
copied him, and after a few bites, so did Liam. They finished lunch mostly in
silence. Draco knew Harry was still floating on the pain, so it didn't bother
the dark-haired boy the way it might have.
When they were finished, Draco took his boy's hand and they smiled at each
other. Harry leaned into his side and they wandered over to the petting area.
Liam trailed behind him like he had all day, sunglasses back in place, and
everything was good again.
Chapter End.
This chapter was getting enormously long. I hate leaving it on a sour note and
cutting the zoo trip in half, but, again, it became too long and was throwing
off my rhythm. See you next week with the rest! :D
 
***** Snakes *****
Updated:5.27.16
A/N:I've been really good about updating every Friday or earlier, so I'm making
Fridays my official update day!
BTW:Someone complained about the "sex" and "punishment" scenes. Too many?
                                    Snakes
“Look!” Harry cried, pointing into the petting zoo. There were goats and a few
children standing around touching and tugging on the animals under the watchful
eye of a zookeeper and parents. “Can I?” He turned pleading eyes to Draco.
Draco nodded, ruffled Harry's messy hair, and let him go.
Harry grinned and limped over. He looked back several times for reassurance and
permission before he was finally close enough to put his hand on a shaggy coat.
“I don't get it,” Liam voiced quietly at his side.
Draco sighed. “Harry... He wasn't okay even before he came ta th' Hold. He
didn't even have a name.”
He wanted to cross his arms, wanted to scowl and scream, but he forced his body
loose and calm, knowing if Harry looked over and saw him upset, there would be
no recovering this day. He looked up to see Liam looking down at him horrified.
“Don't look upset,” he ordered, challenging him. “Or I'm not tellin' you
nothin'.”
Liam was visibly conflicted, but then he blanked his features and copied
Draco's stance. “I'm listening,” he stated, voice clipped.
Draco sighed again and looked back at his boy. Harry's eyes met his and
sparkled with pure joy at touching the creature. Draco gave a wave and smile
and Harry's attention returned to the goat. “I had to name 'em because his
family called 'em Freak. They hated him. Made 'em cook and clean. They didn't
give 'em a bed or baths or even food. First time I fed 'em in th' Hold, he
cried it hurt so bad. He's small now, but he was bone-thin when I met 'em.”
Liam made a sound in his throat and Draco shot him a glance to make sure his
face was still blank. It was. Draco returned his eyes to Harry and continued.
“At Brendon's, Harry said it was the first time he slept in a bed or even had
blankets or warm clothes that fit. It was his first bath, too. Had a panic
attack 'cause he's dead certain he doesn't deserve it. It makes him go crazy
inside with this... hate at himself... for having things he shouldn't. But it's
okay now 'cause I've got 'em. I'm gonna take care of him and show 'em that he
does deserve a bed and food and happiness. Because he's mine.”
“And you deserve the best of everything because you're the sun and moon,” Liam
hissed.
Draco looked up, saw rage in the tension of the man's jaw, and stared coldly
back. “You think you know better? If I disappeared right now, you'd know how to
fix him? Know how to keep 'em from killing himself?”
Liam deflated and turning his head away, arms crossing on his chest.
Satisfied, Draco let the anger drain away. He reached up and gently touched
Liam's hip. The man looked down at him. “I love him, Liam. Love 'em so much.
He's gonna be okay. I'll take care of him. Promise.”
Harry returned then and Draco opened his arms with a smile. The boy burrowed
into his side, grinning and flushed and telling them what the goat was like.
Draco listened and pet Harry's hair as they moved on to the next animal.
They fed ducks, helped brush a sheep, and held rabbits. Harry was limping, but
he was grinning ear to ear, eyes lit up with joy. Liam didn't relax completely
until they were at the rabbits. Draco smiled as the man became just as excited
and gushed over the soft creatures. Liam crouched down with Harry and the
cuddled the hopping bunnies. Draco laughed, bumped Liam's shoulder, and took a
rabbit into his own arms. They were remarkably soft and warm.
After the petting zoo, they went back to the cafe for ice creams. Harry and
Draco shared a banana split while Liam had a plain chocolate cone. Harry
practically melted as soon as he tasted the treat. Moaning, humming, he
trembled and gasped with almost every bite, making Draco feel warm with desire
and Liam laugh.
When Liam got up to throw their trash away, Draco leaned in for a quick, deep
kiss, licking at the inside of Harry's sweet mouth. Harry melted into the kiss
with absolute - love adoration- pouring through the bond. Draco wiggled in his
seat, overwhelmed and bursting with energy. Jumping to his feet, he called a
challenge.
“Race you there!” he cried and sprinted toward the next building.
Harry laughed and ran after him. Even Liam gave chase. He almost caught up, but
Draco had a large enough lead to cross the entrance of the Tropic Zone first.
Arms up in triumph, Draco did a little dance. Harry clapped and congratulated
him while Liam playfully made threats of revenge.
Settling down, Draco hooked his hair behind his ears and took in the large
glass tanks and enclosures that surrounded him. The large room was warm and
humid, the lights dimmed. Draco unfurled his scarf, letting it hang on either
side of his neck, his gloves long ago zipped into his pocket. Harry's gloves
were also in his pocket, but he didn't bother with the scarf, leaving it
wrapped around his neck. His eyes were wide as he pressed his face close to the
glass to see a huge green snake hanging like an 'S' from an artificial tree.
“The emerald tree boa was discovered in 1758 by Carlos Linnaeus, who named the
boa Corallus caninus. The genus name, Corallus, resulted from the coral-like
color and pattern of the boa as a neonate; caninus came about due to the boa’s
head and angled snout, which Linnaeus found reminiscent of a dog. The elongated
maxillary teeth also resemble the canine teeth of dogs,” Liam dutifully read.
Draco stared at the snake. It was vibrantly green and very large. It could have
coiled around Draco and Harry both and covered them from foot to head. It had
yellow unblinking eyes with a thin vertical pupil. It's pink tongue flickered
and flashed, but otherwise it held still.
Until Harry hissed.
Draco's eyes snapped to Harry only to jerked back to the tank as the snake
undulated and began to coil around the branch and tree, slithering gracefully
down the trunk, and sinuously weaving up to the glass. It was beautiful and
hypnotic, but it also made Draco tense, primal instincts screaming warning.
However, as the snake came to a stop and simply stared up at them, he felt
himself relax. Harry hissed again, and this time Draco kept his eyes on the boy
beside him.
As if feeling his gaze, Harry looked over at him with wide, surprised eyes. “I
didn't know snakes could talk!”
Draco knew instantly that this was because Harry was special, Harry was magic,
and the word Freak screamed through his brain in warning. He knew with absolute
certainty that if he handled this wrong, Harry would be damaged in a way Draco
would never be able to fix.
“Where did you come from?” the snake asked Harry all soft and shushy, like a
whisper, but Harry understood the words perfectly.
“I don't know,”he answered. “Outside?”
He realized Draco still hadn't answered and looked over at him again. The blond
was staring, face blank. Harry looked up and saw Liam was staring too, but the
expression on his face was shocked. A cold chill rolled down his spine, the
heat between his legs throbbed hotly, and he had to swallow hard to keep from
throwing up.
Tearfully, he turned his eyes back to the very green snake and asked in a
terrified voice, “You can't talk to people, can you?”
“No. People do not speak. Only you speak.”
Harry gasped, but then Draco was forcing him to look into his eyes.
“Good boy,” the blond said with a grin and pulled him into his arms so that
Harry was leaning against his chest and they were both looking at the snake. *
Good boy, *he echoed into Harry's mind. *So good. Love you. Love that you talk
to snakes, heal me, love me. Such a good boy. *
Panting, Harry felt frozen.Freak, he was a freak, bad freak, but Draco was
happy, he was Draco's, and Draco said he was a good boy.He finally tipped over
onto the side of calm as something else Draco said registered. Talking to
snakes was like healing? Helping Draco, making him better, that was everything
to Harry. If snakes were a part of that, then that was okay, right?
“Hatchling,”the snake said, suddenly disinterested. “Weak.”
Harry knew that was true and said nothing to stop the snake from returning to
the tree and coiling herself back into her perch.
“What did ya say to each other?” Draco asked.
Harry tried to look and see what Liam was doing, but Draco tightened his arms
and made a rumbling sound in his chest. Harry flushed in embarrassment and went
more limp in Draco's arms. “I told her she was pretty. She said course she was
beautiful and came down and asked me where I came from. I told her outside and
asked her if snakes normally talk to people.” He couldn't help swallowing hard.
“She said no. Only me. Then called me hatchling and weak and went back to her
tree.”
Draco hummed and continued to watch the snake. Harry stayed relaxed and slowly
his heartbeat slowed. It was okay. Draco was here. He wasn't mad. Harry was
released and guided to the next tank. He purposefully didn't look at Liam.
Draco didn't want him to. Only Draco mattered.
“What's this one say?” the blond asked eagerly, looking at him with bright grey
eyes.
Harry's mouth curled into a tentative smile. Love Draco so much. Anything for
Draco. He turned his eyes back to the snake. This one was red and had a
camouflage pattern. It was coiled up on a rock.
“Scientific name: Python brongersmai. Other common names: Red blood python,
Malaysian blood python. The head is long and broad, wider than the neck; the
tail is short. Most adult females measure 50"-66" in total length, most adult
males measure 40"-56" in total length,” Liam read out loud from behind him just
as he had the whole day. His voice sounded just the same and Harry relaxed
still further.
“Hello,” Harry ventured.
The diamond head lifted. A male voice answered,“You speak.”
Harry flushed red, palms sweaty, but Draco was at his back, holding him, eyes
bright and interested. “How are you?”he eventually asked.
“It is boring, but I eat and sleep and stay warm,”the snake whisper-shushed.
Harry looked over his shoulder at Draco. “He's bored, but eats good and likes
to sleep and stay warm.”
“That's creepy,” Liam said. Harry winced, but when he looked up at him, Liam
was at their side and staring into the tank in fascination. “But really, really
cool.”
Draco laughed in Harry's ear and Harry could feel it vibrating through his
back. “Can you make it do anything?”
Harry looked back into the cage. “Will you do something?”
“What?”the male asked, sounding as bored as he claimed to be.“Why?”
“Can you come to the glass so we can see you? You're so beautiful. So bright
red.”
The snake rose higher, pleased, and slithered over to the glass. Then he struck
at air, fast as lightning, making Harry and the others gasp in surprise. He
turned this way and that, coiled and uncoiled, and struck again. “I am
beautiful and strong,”the snake bragged after his little show. “The people have
picked me to breed many times.”
“You're amazing,” Harry agreed completely and translated for Draco and Liam
what the snake had said. It made Liam snort a laugh and Draco smile. “Thank
you,”he told the snake.
“How is this possible?” Liam asked, arm swinging in excitement. He was staring
at Harry and Draco both.
Draco led them all over to the benches in the dark, cave-like room. The glass
and shining exhibits of snakes, frogs, and lizards encircled them. They had the
place to themselves. Draco held out his hand, palm up, and told Liam, “Let me
see your pocket knife.”
Liam handed it over, practically vibrating with curiosity. Harry was still
calm, but it felt fragile, like at any moment he'd shatter, but he trusted
Draco, truly and completely, and it kept him from freaking out.
Draco took the little knife and opened it. The small blade was sharp. Looking
up into Liam's eyes, he asked, “Do you trust me?”
Liam was losing his excitement and beginning to look nervous, but he nodded.
Draco struck, faster than Liam could flinch back, and sliced deep into the
meaty part of Liam's hand. The man leapt to his feet, a cry on his lips, eyes
wide and round. “Sit,” Draco ordered. “Trust me.”
“You cut me! What the hell, Draco?” Angry, hurt, Liam sat, almost without
realizing he was obeying. “I'm not going to tell anyone. Shit, Draco. You
didn't have to do that.”
“Give Harry your hand.”
Liam offered his injured hand. It was bleeding bad and he was shaking. Harry
glanced at Draco and saw those grey eyes watching him unblinking. It made him
tingly and warm. He still hurt, a deep throbbing pain between his legs, but it
made Harry feel strong instead of weak.
Gently clasping Liam's bloody wrist, he brought the man's hand to his mouth.
Eyes only for Draco, he put his mouth to the wound and lapped at it with his
tongue.
Eyes heavy, Draco reached out to stroke Harry's hair, whispering, “Good boy.”
Harry shivered and felt the heat in his gut well and spill over under Draco's
commanding gaze.
Liam gasped. His whole body went tense, his harsh breathing loud in the silent
room. It lasted a few minutes, but when Harry released him, Liam immediately
brought his hand close to his face. The spilled blood was still splashed on his
skin, his clothes, the floor, but Harry knew the deep cut was gone.
Draco's mouth crashed into his, licking Liam's blood out of his mouth, washing
him clean. Harry moaned and quivered, pressing hard against Draco's chest, his
heart pounding in pure joy that he'd been good. Sucking, tongues touching, they
kissed long and loud, until Draco gasped and pulled away, tucking Harry close
to his side. Harry practically purred as he leaned against him with his eyes
closed, trying to catch his breath.
“What the hell?” he heard Liam whisper roughly.
“Harry is magic,” Draco bragged, voice content. “And so am I. Harry heals and I
poison.” When Liam made a choked sound, he added. “Well, when I want to. It's
something we can turn on and off. Inside somewhere.” Then his voice sank low,
warning. “It's a secret, Liam. You can't tell no one. Hard rule.”
Harry opened his eyes to see Liam nodding slowly. His face was pale and his
eyes were still too wide, but he wasn't angry or purple or trying to hit him
like Uncle. Harry sighed in contentment and leaned more of his weight against
his protector. Draco was amazing.
“Harry's a good boy, isn't he? Not a freak at all,” Draco continued, turning to
look down at Harry who was tucked into his side. His hand stroked through the
dark, wild hair.
Wiggling with embarrassment and denial, Harry turned his eyes to Liam.
Liam stared at him for a long second, but something in his face relaxed and he
actually smiled. “Yeah. Harry's a good boy. The best. Not a freak. Just
special, is all.”
Harry tucked his burning face into Draco's neck, hiding from the impossible
praise.
Draco laughed, squeezed him close, and then pushed him gently away. “Let's
check out the rest of the snakes and stuff, and then we can go ta' the 4D
theater. You said there's a theater, right, Liam?”
Harry smiled, dazed over everything that had happened, but happy as Draco
pulled him to the next snake cage.
Liam did his best to keep the chaos in his head hidden. He was under no
illusions. If he did or said something that set Harry off, Draco would not be
forgiving. Hell, Liam was damn lucky Draco hadn't been more vicious about the
whole 'coming home drunk and sleeping with a naked Harry' thing. So, Liam kept
everything bolted down in his head until he had a minute to himself.
The 4D theater was showing a documentary on whales, and he gratefully used the
time in the dark to let his fake smile go and try and make sense of everything
that had happened. He had no idea what to think! Draco and Harry were massively
damaged. They were coping and genuinely loved each other, but the glimpses of
their relationship – the physical intimacy as well as the sporadic abuse – made
him uneasy.
At least Draco didn't seem interested in the basement after his jaunt with
Jess. Liam had absolutely zero desire to ask what had happened that had turned
Draco off the whole idea. He was also still ashamed for coming home to Harry
drunk and knew he'd feel that way for a while. Foster care and group homes had
given him a strong aversion to taking on the role of drunk adult instead of the
child-witness he used to be.
Then there was the whole talk like a snake and have snakes answer thing. Oh and
of course the magic healing and magic poisons. Couldn't forget that! Liam was
well and truly baffled-shocked-doubting-believing-afraid. It was a serious
emotional stew that he had no idea how to get over or around.
Draco's story about Harry's life resonated in his heart. It was disturbing and
heartbreakingly sad. It wasn't something Liam could overlook or forget about.
Sweet, passive, obedient Harry; he was so small and docile it was shocking to
imagine him so horribly abused. Liam was no stranger to child-abuse. He was a
mobster and occasionally had to deal with child-trafficking and sex-
trafficking, he also had been abused during his time in the system, but this
was Harry.
Liam had been a tough street-rat. He'd stolen, made threats, hurt people,
bullied, lied, and was an obnoxious, sarcastic shit all in the name of survival
and juvenile stupidity. Draco, Brendon, and he hadn't deserved the abuse they
got by any means, but it seemed less horrific somehow than imagining abuse
heaped on Harry who had no tough edges, no defenses.
It all left him kind of dazed and numb and sick. Now add magic to everything
and he almost felt like his head was going to explode. Magic. Magic was real.
Harry and Draco had freaky magic powers. Let's hear a “Holy shit” please. He
was able to compartmentalize the abnormal relationship, the unhealthy devotion,
but what the hell was he supposed to do with magic?
He hadn't even believed in magic when he was a kid. He didn't believe in God or
miracles, so his brain almost couldn't compute. But the blood and pain had been
real, the cut was gone, and the snakes had responded to Harry. It was
undeniable. Shit. Magic was real.
By the end of the movie, Liam was slightly more rational and less hysterical.
He decided there was nothing he could do about any of it (Wasn't that the theme
of his life?) and decided to ignore it as much as possible. The boys were
exhausted. As soon as Harry fell asleep on the train back home, Draco's
expression blanked, clearly deep in thought. Liam felt a pang of self-
condemnation. Here he was being a coward and running away from the situation,
leaving Draco to deal with it alone.
Straightening his spine, he cleared his throat. “The snake thing surprised
you.”
Draco's grey eyes looked up at him, and for a second, Liam was certain his help
was going to be rejected, but then the blond relented. “Yeah. Didn't know he
could do that. Was wonderin' what else we can do. The poison and healing aren't
a special ability type thing if we can do other stuff, too. It must be part of
a bigger thing.”
“What else can you do?” Liam asked, even though he really didn't want to know.
Draco shrugged and looked away.
Liam, grateful, didn't push. “Well, it's crazy for sure, but I can help you
look stuff up if you want. The library has books on everything. It's got to
have something about this, right?” Of course, he'd thought all those kinds of
books were fiction. Queasy, he shifted his weight, dreading the idea of the
boys learning more tricks. It literally made him break out into a sweat.
He had no idea if Draco sensed his distress and tried to protect him or if he
really felt that way, but the blond answered, “No. Not yet.” Draco began to pet
Harry's hair, the boy deeply asleep with his head on the blond's shoulder.
“We're still getting used to everything. It's fine for now.”
Liam nodded and leaned back in his seat, feeling shaky. Okay. He could do this.
Healing was totally awesome and non-threatening. Talking to snakes, no big
deal. How often would they see a snake in New York City except at the zoo? And
he'd always known Draco was capable of murder. The only thing that was
different was that the ability wasn't because of fucked up assassin training
liked he'd imagined. No, it was death magic.
Hell, who was he kidding? Draco was scary as shit and apparently he had other
magic skills he wasn't confessing. Fuck. Liam held the fact that Draco had
never hurt him, even when he may have deserved it, in the forefront of his
brain and tried to shove down the irrational fear.
                                      ...
“I'm not a freak?” Harry asked, barely a whisper. They were in bed, the room
dark. His head was pillowed on Draco's chest, the blond lying on his back and
breathing deep and even, eyes closed. Harry's thighs ached and between his legs
still throbbed. It was reassuring and real but couldn't quite squash the fear
as the memory of the snake's words played in his mind.
“No. People do not speak. Only you speak.”- Because he wasn't normal. He was
Freak.
“Harry,” Draco said the name softly, lovingly. “I want you to listen ta me real
careful.”
Harry went perfectly still, hardly breathing, as he obeyed.
Draco rolled them so Harry was on his back, head on a pillow, hair fanned
around his head in a halo. The room was dark, so Draco could only make out the
outline of Harry's face, the glint of those beautiful eyes, the soft lips.
Draco put his hands on Harry's chest and slid them down, caressing soft skin,
hooking on the blankets and pulling them away so all of Harry's body was
uncovered. He couldn't resist stroking and petting the boy, gently caressing
the bruised thighs, the thin stomach, brushing the rosy nipples.
“You're special Harry. And so am I. Do ya know what that means?”
Harry's skin was flushing warm and his breathing grew heavy as Draco's fingers
slid along his naked skin. “No, Draco,” he answered in a whisper.
“It means we do stuff no one else does, Harry.” Draco leaned down and slowly
licked along Harry's lips. The boy opened his mouth – hungry – but Draco lifted
away. “That means we kiss.” He looked into Harry's eyes, wondering if he
understood. “No other kids kiss like we do, Harry.” He saw a flicker of
understanding and Draco smiled. “If you were normal, we wouldn't kiss no more.”
Harry gasped and reached for Draco, denial singing through the bond.
“Hands above your head,” Draco ordered calmly. With a whimper, Harry obeyed.
“Good boy. Keep them there 'til I say.”
The boy nodded, tears in his eyes.
Draco sympathized. It was painful for Harry to try and understand that
something that was so horrific to him, something that was the cause of his
abuse and pain for so long, was now a good thing, but Draco needed him to start
making that leap of understanding or his boy would never heal.
He brought his wrist to his mouth and focused on the cold determination to show
Harry, to at least open the door to healing. He pushed it into his mouth. Not
poison, but he wanted to cut, wanted to bleed. Needed it. For Harry. And
suddenly his teeth clenched down and his skin parted easily. He gasped at the
spike of pain and cupped his other hand over the wound, collecting as much
blood as he could.
Harry, wide-eyed, filled Draco with – shock need love – and begged, “Draco!
Please, let me.”
Smiling, Draco held his injured wrist out to his boy, dripping warm blood over
Harry's stomach and chest and neck with the gesture. “If you were normal, you
couldn't heal me, Harry. But you can. Because you're special.”
Harry, crying silently, arms still obediently held above him, lifted his head
and latched onto Draco's wrist and sloppily licked and sucked until blood
smeared across his face, dripped down his cheeks and neck. Less than a minute
later, the wound was gone.
“Good boy, Harry,” Draco purred, heart beating hard and his whole body tingling
at the touch of Harry's healing magic. Panting, he looked deep into Harry's
eyes and ordered softly, “Bend your knees and roll onto your stomach. Keep your
hands above ya.”
Tears mixing with Draco's blood on his cheeks, Harry did as he was told so that
he was suddenly folded over his thighs, shins and chest pressed firmly into the
mattress, and his face turned sideways on the pillow. He couldn't see Draco
now. Somehow that made his voice more compelling.
“If you weren't special, I couldn't touch ya inside, Harry.” And added, deep in
Harry's mind where Draco's voice warmed and filled him. * Couldn't put myself
inside you. *
Harry gasped, back bowing slightly as something warm and slick pressed into his
body. Slamming his eyes closed, he absorbed the feeling of Draco's finger
wiggling inside and tugging at his hole. It felt weird and warm and good, and
Harry moaned as he realized Draco's warm blood was going to coat the inside of
his body.
A second blood-slicked finger pressed inside him. It stretched him open a
little more and Harry was gasping for breath now, feeling dizzy and needy and
wanting – DracoDracoDracoDraco.A third finger and Harry couldn't help lifting
his head and keening. His hips pressed up, begging for more, as he shifted his
weight to his knees. The burn of muscle as three fingers pressed in and now
Harry was fully up on his knees, chest still down along the bed, hands
clenching the top of the pillow, thighs and knees spread wide.
Draco's panting moans and whispers of “Harry” filled the room as Harry's hips
slowly undulated, moving Draco's finger in and sliding them out. Harry gave a
wild cry as he felt – Inside him! Draco was inside him! - Draco's first two
fingers arch and curl and press, the third remaining long and straight,
piercing him. And then Draco touched something that made him collapse with a
gasp, legs shaking, as melting pleasure shot through his limbs.
Giving a breathy laugh, Draco leaned forward and pinned Harry's sprawled thigh
with his free hand and leaned down, his face dipping past where his fingers
moved inside the boy to lick and suck at the dark bruise he'd pinched behind
Harry's balls.
Harry wailed, arms and head thrashing in a spasm before the boy locked it down
and held on.
Draco could hardly see through the sensations that sizzled and zapped through
the bond, making his own hips rock and his head spin. Just as the crest of the
pleasure built, he bit down on the bruise he'd been kissing and gently scraped
his nails across Harry's insides. Harry screamed as the sharp agony of the bite
exploded into a pleasure so great that it nearly made him pass out. Draco
screamed with him; ecstasy streaking through the bond like lightning and
locking his body in a spasm.
They were both sweat-soaked puddles on the sheets when Draco slowly blinked
open his eyes. Harry was sprawled on his belly and Draco was curled on his
side, face pressed into Harry's hip. Shivering from the tingles still sparking
under his skin, Draco crawled up and stroked Harry's damp hair. The boy flopped
over and stared up at him dazed.
“Would you give me up, Harry? To be normal?” he asked solemnly.
“No!” Harry burst into tears and flung his arms around Draco's neck. “Draco!
Love you! Anything for you! Be a freak for you!” - acceptance love relief
adoration -
Draco sighed and cuddled Harry into his arms, soothing his cries until they
were quiet hiccups which faded into the silence of sleep. Harry still thought
he was a freak, but at least he didn't think it was a bad thing to be. He
accepted it now instead of hated himself. It was a good start, and Draco fell
into sleep with a contented smile on his face.
Chapter end.
A/N:So Draco is starting to figure things out about magic.
I'd love your thoughts on two things.
   1. Should Draco and Harry make contact with the magical world in America
      before Hogwarts gets involved? Or is that too convoluted?
   2. How much contact do you think Draco should have with the mob? Should he
      do “jobs” for them or be left mainly alone with only Liam having contact
      with the Family?
 
***** Marching Forward *****
A/N: Thank you So_Much for the feedback. I was feeling a bit uncertain, but I
think I have a few GREAT ideas for you guys. Hope you enjoy this one!
                                 Forward_March
Over the next few days, Liam put in extra hours body-guarding and serving the
mob. The time away allowed him room to come to terms with all the strangeness.
When he was with the boys, he tried to live in the moment. Meanwhile, Draco and
Harry had returned to their routine of doing chores and studying during the
morning and spent their afternoons playing in parks.
                                      ...
Gloves discarded, jacket unzipped over his hoodie, and scarf wrapped around his
head with the long tails dangling down his back, Draco gave a loud pirate yell
and attacked Jonathan with his sword. He could hear Harry's laughter as he
dodged Megan's tackles and grasping hands.
“Yer treasure's mine!” Draco cackled with a grin and took another swipe at the
boy's stick-sword.
Something whopped him on the back, staggering him forward. It was like a
curtain tore across his mind and Draco gave a piercing cry, collapsing to his
knees where the spiked rug he stood on tore into his skin.
“Get up, slave! I'm not through with you yet.”
Draco rocked back onto his heels. He almost didn't make it to his feet. His
thighs burned from exertion and painful lashes. The muscles trembled beneath
his skin.
“Get up!”
Draco screamed as a whip bit into his shoulders. Straining, he finally managed
to push up and lock his knees. The bedroom dipped and swayed in his vision,
blurred by blood, sweat, and tears. Snot was smeared across his face where he
kept wiping at it. The smell of blood hovered over everything.
He stood in the foot wide center of a rug straight out of a demented torture
chamber. Half-inch steel spikes were embedded in the weave surrounding that
small cleared space. He'd had to walk across them to get to the center and the
bottoms of his feet were torn and bloody.
The master was circling him like a shark. Two floggers and a whip lay discarded
at the man's feet. He'd delivered ten strikes with each and ten with the one in
his hand. He had promised he was going to go through his whole toy chest before
the night was over. He was furious and Draco was paying the price. A sale had
gone bad. They'd have to sit out at sea for a few weeks to avoid capture by the
police.
Shivering, sobbing, Draco wrapped his arms around his chest and stomach,
protecting as much as he could. Nothing held him up save his own legs. The
burning pain of the whips and the vicious sting of the floggers were nothing to
the pain of falling on the spikes, and each time he fell he swore to himself he
wouldn't fall again, no matter what was done to him, but he wasn't strong
enough. He fell again and again. His palms bore punctures, his knees and shins
were shredded. His blood was everywhere. Even his chest looked like a bloodied
pin cushion from when he'd been too slow to brace with his arms and belly-
flopped across the spikes.
“Ah. This one's my favorite.”
Lifting his heavy head and staring through his sweat-soaked bangs, Draco took
in the nine-tailed flogger. Each braided twist had a small metal shard embedded
in the end. Draco felt a wave of nauseousness and barely managed not to puke.
He'd taken five lashes from that monster once before and it had almost killed
him. He was already battered and hardly able to keep his feet. Ten hits would
be the end. He had suffered so long, endured months under the master's brutal
care, waiting for the right moment, the moment he would kill this bastard, and
it was all for nothing!He was going to die without taking that piece of shit
with him.
Draco stared into the bastard's soulless eyes and snarled, voice barely human,
twisted by pain and hatred, “Burn in hell, you piece of shit.”
Face contorted with fury, the master lashed him across the chest, all nine
tails biting into Draco's skin and tearing his flesh open. He flung his head
back with a howl. Back-stepping with the fierce blow, his foot came down on the
spikes and he shrieked. Tearing it off the impaling metal, he centered himself,
swaying, teeth bared.
“Fucking slut! I'll break you! I'll fucking break you, slave!”
The whip sliced down brutally across Draco's already torn, bruised, and welt-
covered back. This time he went blind with the pain. His body spasmed and
locked into a rigid arch. He toppled sideways and spikes tore through his
shoulder, side, and hip, grating on bone.
Draco screamed and screamed and screamed.
Everyone froze. Draco was on his knees, his arms wrapped around his chest. His
head hung, his blond hair curtaining his face. Mathew – the one who'd hit Draco
from behind – stood with his mouth hanging open. Jonathan was scowling. As
Draco flung his head back and howled, Jon lashed out, kicking Draco in the
chest and flinging him backward.
“Shut up! The hell's wrong wiv you?”
For Harry, it was as if time stopped. He saw Draco, collapsed, screaming in
pain, saw Jon standing there with a glare. He wasn't thinking. He just moved.
As if in slow motion, Harry crossed the space between them. Jon's face came
around so very slowly, his eyes went wide, and then Harry was there.
Kicking, scratching, biting, Harry flung himself at Jonathan, yelling his fury.
They toppled to the ground. He heard the boy scream in fear and pain, but Harry
couldn't stop. Not until Jon grabbed his hair and flung him off, and then Jon
was running away, limping and bleeding. Mathew and Megan had already bolted.
Crying, shaking, Harry crawled to Draco's side and wrapped his arms around him.
The blond was shaking, almost convulsing. His screams had fallen silent, but
his eyes were completely blank, his face screwed up in animalistic agony. Harry
murmured gentle words to him, stroked his hair, and held him close, waiting for
Draco to come back, waiting for the nightmare to end.
Draco did eventual snap out of the horrific flashback. Slowly, in bits and
pieces, he became aware of someone holding him. At first it terrified him and
he thrashed, a scream building in his raw throat, but then he became aware of
Harry's voice.
“... love you so much. You're always taking care of me. I'm yours and you make
me better, make me good. Gonna take care of you, too. Just tell me what to do.
I'll do anything for you, Draco. Gonna make you feel better, promise. Just
gotta wake up. Just a dream, Draco. You're here in the park with me. Please
wake up...”
Gasping for air, confused, Draco went still within the arms holding him. Slowly
the blue sky registered in his brain. He could feel the grass under him. Then
he blinked and realized Harry's face was close to his. Those green eyes watch
him with such unconditional love that it took Draco's breath away. Bursting
into loud, gut-wrenching sobs, he burrowed into Harry's chest and let the fear
and remembered pain drain out of him.
It had been an hour or so after noon when they had started playing pirates in
the park. When Draco's tears finally dried up and he was able to uncurl from
Harry's loving embrace, he realized the sun was setting. He had no idea which
had been longer – the flashback or the breakdown afterward – and he was too
exhausted to care.
Harry had to help him climb to his feet, his whole body felt like rubber.
Leaning on the shorter boy, Draco let Harry guide them home. He kept his face
shadowed by his hair, refusing to look at anyone they passed. Harry was
perfect, glaring at anyone who stared too long, green eyes surprisingly fierce,
the bond singing with protectiveness determination, and Draco fell even more in
love with him.
Liam was in the kitchen when the boys stumbled stiffly through the door. He
thought he'd surprise the boys by cooking dinner instead of having Harry do it,
but his grin disappeared as soon as he caught sight of the kids. Draco looked
grey, and Harry supporting almost half of the blond's weight, his eyes more
fierce than Liam had ever seen them.
Rushing over, he helped support Draco as Harry led them to the couch. The boys
sat as if they were made of fractured glass, and Liam knelt to untie both of
their shoes. Draco curled into Harry's chest, and Harry gently stroked his hair
and hummed, eyes practically on fire. Once he had both boys' shoes off, he
shifted Draco's legs up on the cushions, the blond's head falling into Harry's
lap. Then he hurried off to turn off the stove and fetch a blanket. He tucked
it around Harry's shoulders and draped the rest over Draco. Only then did he
speak.
“What happened?” he asked quietly from his position crouched on the floor.
Harry's fierce eyes melted and he began to cry in utter silence.
Deeply disturbed, Liam ran his hand through Draco's hair, brushing the silky
bangs away to see blank grey eyes staring at nothing. “Hey. It's alright.
You're home now. You're safe.”
Draco sighed and let his eyes fall closed.
The trust of that gesture made Liam's chest tighten. He moved to sit next to
the crying Harry and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The dark-haired boy
went into his half-embrace easily and pressed his damp face into the side of
Liam's chest. His hand never stopped petting Draco.
Liam had no idea what had happened, but he felt absurdly protective. He sat
there quietly, tv off, simply holding Harry and watching over Draco. The kid
was so exhausted that he never moved or made a sound all night. Harry was a bit
more fitful and several times Liam had to sooth him into a more restful sleep.
It wasn't until dawn that Draco began to stir.
“Hey,” Liam said softly, warmly, hand on Draco's head. “You awake?”
The blond shifted out of Harry's lap and sat on his own, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah,” he answered, barely above a whisper.
“You didn't eat last night. You hungry?” he asked carefully.
Draco bit his lip, and it was so bizarre to see him anything less than
confident that Liam suddenly felt murderously angry. Whatever had happened,
whoever had happened, Liam wanted them dead for doing this to Draco.
“You're not gonna ask?” Draco asked, peering up at him through his long bangs.
“Only if you wanna tell me.” Liam met his eyes, hoping the blond could see how
much he wanted to help him.
Draco looked away from Liam, down at his lap, where his hands twisted the
blanket. “I... I don't know... It was like I was there... I couldn't... I
didn't know where I was...”
Liam had no idea what to do to fix the pain in Draco's voice. He'd never looked
his age, but Liam was painfully aware he was only five years old. Five. Voice
hoarse with feeling, he asked, “It was like you were where?”
“The Hold... with master...” Liam could hardly hear him, Draco spoke so
quietly, but then the blond looked up, his eyes silver with fury. “No, with
Raymond. He's not my master. I killed him. I killed him.”
Liam met that glare unflinchingly. He was fiercely happy the monster who'd hurt
Draco was dead. Liam was a thug and a bodyguard. He was no stranger to violence
and death. He wasn't going to take Draco to task for defending himself, and he
wasn't going to take him to task for enjoying it, either. Humans were brutal.
That was just the godforsaken truth.
Draco must have seen what he needed to see in Liam's expression because he went
on. Roughly pushing his hair behind his ears, his eyes returned to his lap. “I
don't know what happened. I was playing with Harry in th' park and then bam. I
was back there. That bastard was whipping me half-ta-death and playing another
of his sick games. Swear to god it felt like I was really there.” He punched
his thigh with a small fist. “When I came outta it, it was almost dark and I
was wiped out. Wouldn't have been able ta make it home if it hadn't'a been for
Harry.”
Liam reached over and put his hand on Draco's bowed head. “You literally fought
in a war. A war for your survival. And just like any soldier come back from
war, I think you'll have flashbacks until it settles down, yeah? You gotta give
yourself time to really accept that you're home now. I think talking about it
is good if you can stand it. I know you don't need me for much, but I'm here
for you, Draco. I love you. You're my little brother now, same as Harry.”
Draco turned toward Harry and pressed against the boy's side and further under
Liam's sheltering arm. “Okay. I'll... I'll try and talk... about it ...”
He was crying, but Liam tactfully didn't bring attention to that fact. Hell, as
he listened to Draco's halting recounting of what that bastard Raymond had done
to him, he felt like crying himself. What a fucked up psycho! Seriously. Liam
took child-trafficking as a cruel fact of life, but he didn't think he'd ever
be able to stomach it again. Gotti would just have to understand that or he
could kiss Liam's ass because Liam would never have anything to do with the
disgusting trade again.
“It wouldn't'a been so bad...” Draco rasped, ending the nightmare tale. “If
he'd'a let me go away, ya know? … I can disappear in my head... makes it... not
so real, ya know? … That's what I showed Harry. When they were... fuckin'
him... told him to go away 'til I said to come back... But with the spikes... I
couldn't. If I went away... I'd'a fallen every time... I was so scared he was
gonna kill me.”
“You're the strongest person I know, Draco.” Liam held the boy close, heart
thumping hard in his chest. “You survived. You got yourself out of there. Got
Harry out of there. You're amazing, kiddo.”
The blond actually blushed. Liam grinned as Draco turned and tried to hide his
face against Harry's shoulder. The messy-haired boy was still dead to the world
and snoring softly, leaning against Liam's chest. They sat quiet like that,
just holding on to each other, for nearly an hour.
Eventually, Liam slipped out from underneath both boys, laying Harry on the
couch for Draco to wake up, and went to start breakfast. While he cooked
pancakes, he called Gotti and told him he wouldn't be in to work today. He and
the boys were gonna have a much needed quiet day at home.
                                      ...
Fortunately for the small family, the next few weeks passed uneventfully. Liam
had decided he didn't care that Draco and Harry's relationship wasn't normal.
The boys had been introduced to sex and pleasure too fucking soon, but he
couldn't change the past. As for the punishments, he wished it wasn't
necessary, but it couldn't be classified as abuse.
Draco never hurt Harry in anger or because it brought him pleasure. Harry had
suffered horrific brainwashing and emotional abuse since infancy from his birth
family and then was sold into sexual slavery. Draco had saved him from that and
continued to save him. Liam wasn't going to begrudge Harry whatever he needed
to be happy.
Not much changed aside from the new trust between Liam and Draco. The boys
continued to see their tutor three times a week, and - on top of that - Draco
had wrangled Liam into mini-sessions to help him understand money. How much did
their apartment cost? How long did it take to earn that much? How much did they
have in savings? How much did Liam make with the mob? Liam had no idea kids
could ask so many damn questions.
So March came to an end and Liam's tutoring session with Jess arrived once
more. Liam had assumed Draco was done going to the club and done with Brendon's
women, but the blond surprised him by saying that not only was he going, but
Harry was coming with.
Liam frowned as he pulled on his jacket. “But why?”
“I want Harry to meet them, even if it's only once,” Draco answered, wrapping a
scarf around the smaller boy's neck. Harry smiled up at Draco in obvious
adoration. “The club's a part of our lives, and I want him to know what it's
about.” Finally ready, he took Harry's hand and looked up at Liam. “Don't
worry. We're not going near the basement. Harry's got homework from Mrs.
Robinson to do, and I wanna know more about the club's money.”
Liam sighed, giving in. “Fine. Let's go.” At least he wouldn't be the one to
have to answer Draco's flood questions for once.
                                      ...
Harry entered the club, hand held firmly in Draco's, feeling curious. Liam
walked in front of them. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets and Harry
knew that meant Liam wasn't happy, but Draco was relaxed. His eyes were easy
and he gave Harry a small smile whenever he looked at him, so Harry wasn't
worried. He glanced around with interest as his eyes adjusted to the dim
lighting. He'd never been in the club before. It was filled with dark reds and
browns, gold and black, metal and wood, glass floors and curtained booths.
Liam led them to a table near the left bar. A woman in a white halter top and
black pants sat in one of the chairs. She had straight bangs over her oddly
thin and slanted eyes. Long, straight hair fell down her back and her skin was
very pale, but her left arm was awash in vibrant colors and shapes. Harry could
see what looked like blue waves and pink flowers and lavender fish.
“Jess, this is my Harry,” he heard Draco say and he looked up from the tattoo
to see the woman was staring at him. He blushed and immediately looked down,
but he didn't flinch or try to hide. He focused on Draco's hand wrapped around
his own and was filled with a sense of absolute safety.
“Hello, Harry,” she said, voice calm and quiet.
“What a nice surprise,” a deeper, huskier voice said from the side.
Harry looked to see a second woman step out of the shadows beside the bar. This
one wore all black. Her hair was black and long, like the other lady, but it
was tangled, wavy, and wild. Her eyes were large and pale. When Harry met them,
he knew she was dangerous, and he slid closer to Draco's side. The blond
automatically let go of his hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Drey,” Draco greeted the woman. “This is Harry.”
Looking through his messy bangs, Harry saw the woman grin – fierce the way
Draco grinned. “Nice ta meet ya, Harry. Care for a drink? I make a killer
Shirley Temple.”
“Two,” Draco ordered.
“Would you like me to give you a special tour?” Jess asked and Harry relaxed
when he noticed she was speaking to Draco.
“Sure,” he answered with a careless shrug.
Liam followed close behind them as Jess led the way through the club. Harry
perked up, losing his shyness, as they went toward the DJ table. There were
switch boards filled with dials and buttons. She showed them how to turn on the
lights and how to get them to flash and swivel. Harry glanced at Draco when she
offered to let them try, and the blond nodded. Harry happily tried out all the
dials Jess had shown them. The dance floor lit up, the spot lights sparkled and
swiveled. Harry loved it.
Next, Jess let them see the booths up close and then took them behind the bar,
naming some of the very many types of drinks they kept in stock. Eventually,
they ended up back by the table Jess had been sitting at when they had arrived.
Draco tugged Harry to the table next to it while Liam sat with Jess. The man
groaned when she opened the folder she had left on the table and handed him a
thick stack of paper. Harry smiled to himself as he took off his backpack and
got his homework ready. Draco didn't leave his side until he was settled. He
ruffled Harry's hair before moving to sit with Liam.
Drey came and sat with him, bringing his drink, and Harry ducked his head
shyly. The drink was red with bubbles and had a tiny plastic sword with two red
cherries stuck on it. He saw Draco nod, so he tried it. It was bubbly, sweet,
and sharp. He took another, bigger sip, and the woman laughed. It wasn't a mean
laugh, though, not like Aunt or Dudley, so he smiled back at her.
Draco watched the exchange between Harry and Drey carefully. He trusted Drey
and Jess to some extent or he wouldn't have brought Harry, but that didn't mean
he trusted them fully. Hell, he didn't even trust Liam fully, although he
probably trusted Liam more than he would ever trust anyone outside of Harry.
Satisfied that Harry was calm and safe, he turned his attention to the business
talk between Jess and Liam, although he never lost awareness of where Drey was
at all times. He tried to absorb the numbers and new words that Jess used, but
it was hard. Even though he was much better at the maths Mrs. Robinson taught
them than the reading and writing, he was still new to learning.
Still, it had been clear to him after Liam had shown him the club's balance
book for last month that the club barely scraped by. If it weren't for the
basement, Brendon wouldn't have really had enough to live daily life, at least
not comfortably, and he wanted to ask Jess why that was.
When he was finally able to ask his question, Jess answered, “It's because
Brendon was making payments to buy the building. Renting would be half as
expensive as the mortgage we pay now, but even though it's costly, in the long-
run it is always better to buy if possible. When you buy, the building is yours
and you can make a profit by selling. If you rent, that monthly fee can never
be earned back. It is a loss while buying is an investment. Does that make
sense?”
Draco nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” And then he fell silent and tried to follow
the rest of the lesson. Careful glances at Liam showed him that the man was
having an easier time understanding what was being said. That was good. Liam
could always go over it again with him later.
At his own table, Harry was hunched over his homework. He was writing
carefully, little pink tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. Drey was
sitting next to him. “I'm not very smart,” he told her when she pointed out
another letter he had backward.
“Actually, it's normal to do that at first. If you keep doing it next year,
then we can talk about stupid,” she answered firmly, tossing her hair over a
pale shoulder.
Harry titled his head curiously. “Really? Yer not just sayin' that?”
Drey met his eyes and it made him quickly look away. “I wouldn't lie about
that. Why would I? It's not like I know you or care about your feelings. It's
the simple truth.”
Feeling a bit more confident, Harry smiled down at his paper. “Okay. I'll try
harder.”
“Good,” she said. “What's the next sentence say?”
“Um.” Harry squinted down at the page, forcing the letters to become sharper.
“The d...ahh...g ra..ra... ran f...aaa...st.” He looked up to see if he was
correct.
Drey nodded. “Put it together now.”
“The. Dog. Ran. Fast.”
Drey's mouth slid into a grin, eyes bright. “Good boy.”
Harry immediately looked to Draco. Look at me, Draco. I did good!But he didn't
need to say it. He had Draco's attention as soon as he looked over. The blond
gave him a smile. Harry wiggled in his chair – joyful - before turning back to
his paper and tracing the sentence on the page.
“He looks healthy and happy,” Jess remarked as Liam worked through the math she
had given him. She always set him to finding the totals on his own.
Draco nodded. “I take care of him.”
She watched Harry a moment longer, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she
said, “Have you been to the doctor?”
Draco frowned and eyed Harry, but nothing seemed wrong. Tilting his head, he
glanced back at Jess. “Why?”
“He might need glasses. He puts his face too close to the page,” she told him.
Sure enough Harry was only a few inches from his paper. Draco noticed Liam was
watching Harry, too, and asked him, “Can we go to the doctor without being
taken away?”
Liam shot Jess an uneasy glance and only answered, “Yeah,” offering no details.
Draco didn't push it. He knew Liam didn't trust the women to know about their
connection to the mob.
Unimpressed, Jess tapped a long, pink fingernail on Liam's spreadsheet. “Finish
up.”
Liam scowled, but he went back to the math.
Draco hardly noticed. His attention was still on Harry. Harry needed glasses?
What else had he missed? He grew anxious about how Liam was going to get them
into a doctor. The Family had access to their own doctors, of course, but Draco
adamantly didn't want Gotti to know about Harry.
“Can I talk to you in th' bathroom?” Draco suddenly spoke up, pinning Liam with
a diamond-hard stare.
Jess made no objections even though the interruption meant Liam would have to
start the calculations for that section over.
Draco stared her down. “We'll only be a few minutes. Don't mess with Harry.”
She gave a single nod of her head.
Looking over at a curious Harry, he told him, * If you need me, we'll be in the
bathroom. Okay? *
Harry nodded, knowing better than to answer verbally – love calm trust.
As soon as the bathroom door shut behind him and Liam, Draco said, “We can't go
through Gotti. Do you know another way to get us into a doctor?”
Liam frowned. “I have fake papers for both of you. Birth certificates, social
security cards, and fake adoption papers. It shows Brendon adopted you and I
have his notarized will, also forged, that gives me custody. That's how I'm
going to get you in school this fall. We can see any doctor. We don't have to
go through Gotti.”
Draco frowned back at him. “Did Gotti help get th' papers? How'd you explain
away the need for two sets of papers?”
“I got your papers from Gott, but I had a friend I know in California help me
with Harry's. She's not part of the mob, but she is a computer geek, a hacker.”
Liam shrugged. “That means Harry's papers aren't as well done, but it's the
best I could do. I don't want Gotti knowing about Harry, either, Draco.”
“Harry's not seeing a doctor without me,” Draco said firmly. “The mob pulls my
records, they're gonna find out the doctor saw two boys under your
guardianship, right? I think we need to ask Jess to hook us up. A doctor that
will see us in secret. No records.”
“The same thing with school then,” Liam argued, angry not at Draco but at the
situation. He paced the small space, fists clenched. “How're we gonna keep
Harry out of the mob's eyes. He's gonna be registered as my ward there, too.
And don't say he's not going to school, Draco. You both need it. Hard rule. And
no magic at school, either. No poisoning kids or staff for any reason. There
are other ways to handle things. And no healing unless it's life or death.
Another hard rule. Last thing I need is the government or mob figuring out you
have special powers and turn you two into lab rats.”
Draco ran his hands through his hair roughly. “Look. We have 'til July to
figure out school, right? But we need to decide about the doctor now.” He
stared into Liam's eyes. “I want to ask Jess to have someone from the basement
look at us off the books. Agree?”
Liam hated it actually, but he saw that there really wasn't a choice. Plus he
could appreciate that Draco was actually asking him to agree. The kid would
usually just tell him what was what when it came to Harry. Like he had when
he'd decided to go to the basement when Liam had been adamantly against it.
Still, he wanted Draco to understand why he was against it.
“If Jess and Drey find out about my connection to the mob, they could blackmail
us. The cops are breathing down the mob's necks. They'd be all over anything
they told them. They could make our lives hard, Draco.”
Draco looked down for a long minute before looking up again. His face was hard,
all angles and lines, little to no baby-fat from his near starvation in the
Hold. “If it comes ta that, Liam, I'll kill 'em both.”
Liam let the truth of that sink in for a minute before finally nodding. “I
don't have any other ideas, so let's do it.”
Draco immediately turned and went back to the table. Jess, Drey, and Harry were
right where they had left them. They'd been gone less than five minutes,
although it had felt longer. “Are there any doctors who come ta the basement
and would be willing to see Harry and me off th' books? Liam has forged papers
good enough to get me and Harry into school, but I don't wanna risk the mob
getting 'hold of Harry by going to their doctor.”
He watched Jess share a glance with Drey before she looked back at him. “Yes.
We know of a very skilled pediatrician who would do it.”
Draco held her gaze, his own silver with threat. If they betrayed him, he would
make them disappear. Jess already had suspicions about him from the incident in
the basement. She would know how serious he was. “Make the call.”
                                      ...
Dr. Max Khan's office was just a few blocks east of the Hudson river and off
the Henry Hudson Pkwy in Manhattan. Central Park was only four blocks further
east, and Liam promised the boys they would stop by and play after the check-
up.
Draco stared out the car window and watched the river as they drove to the
office. The sky was dark, the sun barely beginning to make an appearance. The
water was even darker, the boats shadows. It made his stomach churn and he
hoped it wasn't a sign of what was to come. A soft hand grabbed his and he
looked over to see Harry watching him – concern worry. Draco gave him a tight
smile and turned his eyes to the back of Liam's head, refusing to look out the
window again.
The office was dark, the doors locked, when they arrived, but they didn't have
to wait more than a few minutes before the shadow of a person came to the door
and opened it for them. Dr. Khan was in his fifties; a dom who was in between
subs at the moment. Jess offered to be there, but Draco refused in difference
to Liam who wanted still wanted the women to know as little as possible.
The doctor had a head of thick black hair cut short and combed back neatly. He
had on slacks, dress shoes, and a button up shirt under his white lab coat. His
skin was dark, his eyes even darker. Jess had told them his parents were born
in India and had moved to America before the doctor had been born.
Dr. Khan didn't say a word or smile. He merely held the door open and gestured
them in. Once the door was locked behind them, he said, “I want to keep the
lights off if that is acceptable. I don't want anyone to know we're here. The
office is closed today.”
His voice was soft and mild, but even though it had seemed like a question, the
man didn't wait for answers. He lead them past the reception desk in the near
dark room and back into the back. The lights were on here, and Draco saw rows
of rooms with beds and another desk area with computers and files. Further back
were huge machines and other rooms with unknown things behind the doors.
Dr. Khan led them to the first exam room. Liam, Draco, and Harry went in, and
Dr. Khan stepped in after them, shutting the door. He caught Draco's narrowed-
eyed look and offered a wry smile.
“Habit,” he explained, but he made no move to open the door. “First boy on the
bed please. Jacket and sweater off.”
Draco handed Harry off to Liam, who took the boy's hand in his own. Liam sat in
one of the side chairs and pulled Harry into his lap protectively. Big green
eyes watched Draco solemnly, hardly blinking, as Draco removed his outer
clothes and piled them on the bed. Then he climbed up onto the end of the
paper-covered bed. The doctor put the stethoscope in his ear and slipped the
round piece up under his shirt. It was cold, but he didn't show it, afraid to
startle Harry further.
Heart, lungs, ears, nose, throat, reflexes, blood-pressure, temperature – all
of it was checked with quick efficiency. Draco climbed off the bed and Harry
took his place, leaving his jacket and sweater with Liam. Draco remained by the
bedside within touching distance, but he was careful to stay out of the
doctor's way.
After those baselines were taken, the harder tests were given. They were both
weighed and then they took x-rays of their whole bodies. They took eye tests by
reading a chart on the wall. Thank god for their tutor because they could at
least recognize the letters and didn't need the baby chart with shapes instead.
After that came the hardest test of all. Dr. Khan asked them to strip naked for
a quick physical exam.
Draco hated every second. He especially hated the way Liam sucked in a breath
when he saw just how many scars covered Draco's back and legs. His face and
neck were remarkably clear. His arms and chest only bore a few dozen, but he
was a maze of silvery and pink lines and splotches from his shoulders to his
ass. His thighs - front and back - didn't look much better. Harry, fortunately,
was mostly scar free except a few here and there. The most noticeable was the
jagged scar just to the left (Harry's right) on his forehead.
Once they were dressed again, Draco pulled Harry into the same chair as him and
practically wrapped himself around the smaller boy protectively. Liam sat in
the chair next to them. All of their eyes were on the doctor, waiting for his
verdict.
Dr. Khan sat at the end of the bed and faced the small family. “Considering
where you came from, you are remarkably healthy. Of course, that does not mean
you actually are healthy. Both of you are significantly underweight and below
the average height for your ages, Harry especially.
“In both cases, your bones have been weakened with malnutrition, but it can be
fixed with a specialized diet that I will write out for you. Draco, in
particular, will be susceptible to broken bones due to the multitude of poorly
healed hairline fractures I found in both arms and legs.
“Both of you have cavities from poor dental hygiene. You will need dental work,
but fortunately you still have your baby teeth. Once those fall out, a healthy
routine of flossing and brushing should help you maintain healthy adult teeth
as long as your diet is fixed. You both will need to see a dentist to prevent
infection and illness with those cavities.
“Harry's eyesight has been effected by malnutrition and he will need glasses as
you expected. That means he will need to see an optometrist to get the correct
prescription for his eyes. I will write the referrals for both an optometrist
and dentist I respect, as well as a prescription for medicated scar cream to
decrease the scarring on Draco's back and thighs.
“Unless Jess knows a dentist as well as an optometrist to see you off the books
like I did, you will have to figure out your paperwork. Also, you will need
official medical records to get into school. You will need documentation of
physicals as well as a shot records. You are both behind on those.
“In order to have you ready for school in August, we will have to begin the
vaccinations now. These shots are for the prevention of common illnesses found
in the world. There will be slight discomfort and illness after each dose is
administered.”
After his lengthy report, Dr. Khan stood. “I will give you a few minutes to
discuss my diagnoses and will return for your decisions about the referrals,
prescription scar cream, targeted diet, as well as the vaccinations.” With a
respectful nod of his head, he stepped out of the room, shutting the door
behind him.
Liam and Draco just stared at each other for a long minute before they began to
hash things out. Draco asked a dozen questions and Liam explained everything he
knew about vaccines. He confirmed that they were required and described how bad
a mouth infection could get. They definitely needed a paperwork solution. It
kept boiling down to Liam just not able to be Harry's guardian. Not without the
mob learning about it.
Draco grimaced, knowing the distress his suggestion would cause Liam, but he
met the man's anxious blue eyes squarely. “I think Jess should be Harry's
guardian on paper. It'll be fake, of course. Harry stays with me. Always. And
we stay with you. It's just to keep the mob off Harry's trail.”
Liam immediately scowled and looked away, crossing his arms defensively and
letting his black, shoulder-length hair hide his face from view.
“Liam. It's the only way. It's gonna be hard enough ta keep Harry secret long-
term with him living with us and you workin' for Gotti,” Draco insisted. He
reached over and put his hand on Liam's thigh. “Worse comes to worse, we grab
as much cash as we can and go on the run. Away from this city. Just us.”
Sighing, Liam uncrossed his arms unhappily, but he reached out to cover Draco's
hand with his own. “Fine. We'll try it your way, but I'd really rather not
leave the city. I grew up here. Never been anywhere else, ya know?”
Draco gave him a reassuring smile. “I'll do everything I can ta keep us here.
Promise.”
Harry put his hand on top of Liam's, so all three of them were together. He
smiled his sweet smile and told them both, “Love you,” green eyes so earnest.
The honest declaration erased the last of the tension in the room. Draco
laughed and hugged Harry, kissing his cheek, and Liam ruffled the messy, dark
hair with a smile.
When Dr. Khan returned, they explained that they'd decided to become official
patients and were moving ahead with all of his recommendations. Dr. Khan gave
them their first shots and said he'd backlog all of their records once Liam got
the boys' paperwork to him to make it official. He also scheduled a follow-up
appointment in three weeks to continue the vaccines and to monitor their weight
gain once they put the diet in effect.
Chapter End.
A/N:Harry's first meeting with Drey and Jess and the doctor's visit went much
quicker than I thought it would, but it didn't want to let me add more details.
It felt forced when I tried. Hope it was good!
 
***** Happy Birthday *****
A/N:Sweetness and History ahead. A lot of you have asked for both of these
things, so I think you'll be happy with it.
                                Happy_Birthday
April and May passed uneventfully. They got fillings for their cavities, were
putting on healthy weight, progressing through their vaccines, and Harry got
cute black, plastic-framed glasses in a round shape. Plus, reading, writing,
and maths were coming easier for both boys.
As for Liam, he was getting more comfortable with the business side of the club
and spent a few days a week actually working there as a manager. They saw Jess
and Drey twice more for business lessons at the club, and both times Draco and
Harry tagged along. Since Jess had agreed to be Harry's on-paper “guardian”,
they all figured getting to know each other wasn't a bad thing.
Draco was especially relieved that he was beginning to truly understand the
club. It went like this: the expenses and taxes for the club were about
$646,000 every 18 months. That meant serving 160 customers every night,
assuming $5 per average drink and 1.5 drinks per person. Of course, they didn't
want to just break even. They wanted to make a profit, but they didn't want to
charge too much or they would have fewer customers. Like every club and bar,
Brendon had added an additional charge to how much the drinks actually cost
them.
But it wasn't all doctors and lessons. The weather was growing warmer, and
during one of their park excursions, Draco and Harry discovered the game of
baseball. With Harry as pitcher and Draco as the catcher calling all the shots,
Harry actually relaxed and enjoyed himself. (He'd been anxious when they played
with other kids ever since Draco's episode.) Plus Dr. Khan fully approved of
the exercise since it was a non-contact sport, as long as the boys were careful
with their still mending bodies.
June arrived before anyone knew it, and the day before Draco's sixth birthday,
Liam asked the blond to absent himself for a few hours while he and Harry went
to buy decorations to put up in the apartment. Draco was about to say it wasn't
necessary, but the sheer strength of - excitement love- that poured from Harry
convinced him otherwise. With a sigh and a smile, Draco said he'd go see if
there were any games in the park he could join.
Liam and Harry went a little crazy. They bought several rolls of blue, red,
green, and yellow streamers, balloons, confetti, hats, some games, a huge cake,
several bouquets of flowers, and enough food to feed ten people. They hurried
it home, put the food away, and hid the rest in Liam's room. Then they went to
the park to see if they could find Draco.
Harry was grinning ear-to-ear and giggling, and Liam couldn't stop smiling.
They looked goofy as hell, that was for certain, but it was their Draco's
special day. They were going to make sure it was perfect.
                                      ...
Lucius Malfoy flooed into the receiving foyer of his family home, his
expression hard as stone. It was nearing midnight. The fifth of June was less
than an hour away. In his hand, he had a folder with the remaining photos of
himself at six years of age that he had handed out.
All day he had given interviews to newspapers – Muggle and magical alike – from
across the globe about his missing son. He had also met with the nearly six
dozen investigators and mercenaries he'd hired from every continent. This year
he had increased the reward for Draco's return to thirty thousand galleons,
which was the equivalent of just more than half-a-million euro and just shy of
five hundred and sixty thousand American dollars.
Over the last week, he'd seen dozens of blond boys brought to him by deceitful,
greedy families and innocently mistaken mercenaries as Draco's birthday drew
near and the story of the lost pureblood baby became popular again. He had yet
to find Draco, however.
Throwing the folder and pictures down on a coffee table, Lucius unhooked his
robes and let them fall to the floor. He knew where Narcissa would be. She
would have already begun the blood ritual that would climax at the twelfth
chime of the clock. On nearly silent feet, he transversed the large, elegant
hallways of the manor, blind to the opulent wealth and gorgeous artwork. His
soft leather boots made only the softest whisper as he climbed down the steps
that led to the dungeons and ritual rooms.
Every year Narcissa hoarded her magic for this one moment, this one spell, and
every year she felt the backlash as whatever protected Draco from every known
tracking spell, Dark magic, and blood-spell rebuffed her. It would leave her
wrecked for nearly a month.
Lucius had begged her to leave it, to try other means of searching for their
son, but she ignored him. She had left the mundane searches to Lucius; she
would command the magical search, and she was a powerful and intelligent witch.
She knew that this blood-ritual was the most powerful in existence. If this did
not work, nothing would.
Stepping off the last step, Lucius walked through the cold, stone passageway of
the dungeons and opened a great metal door to the right. There, deep beneath he
earth, Narcissa knelt naked. Her long blonde hair fell down her back and pooled
around her hips and on the floor. Glowing runes were carved with precision into
her pale, porcelain skin.
The symbols traveled from the base of her throat, down between her breast and
the center of her stomach, before outlining a six-inch circle right over her
uterus. The blood gently rose from each cut unaffected by gravity and created
droplets of rain that had yet to fall. Narcissa knelt in the exact center of
this ruby mist. Her head tilted back, her expression filled with such powerful
longing that Lucius could hardly bear to see it.
Latin spilling from her lips, Narcissa repeated the incantation again and
again, building it's power, letting her blood flow free. She was glowing now,
white and pale, like the light of the moon or the cold stars. Lucius' heart
beat hard in his chest. Would this be the year the spell hiding Draco gave way?
Would they find their son?
The first chime of midnight resonated though the manor. The blood hanging in
the air trembled and began to slowly move back toward Narcissa. The second
chime. Four ribbons of blood formed at each of the four compass points just as
they always did out from Narcissa's shoulders, sternum, and back. Third chime.
Lucius stared hard, trying to see if any one ribbon was growing fatter than the
others. Fourth. The ribbons were thick now, almost as wide as Lucius' wrist.
They undulated gently. Fifth...
Lucius held his breath. Ripples appeared and he felt his stomach drop. Sixth.
Violent turbulence grew within the precious liquid. Seventh. The blood exploded
in all directions, splattering him, the walls, and Narcissa. With a wretched
cry of pain, she collapsed and began to sob.
Saying nothing, Lucius moved forward and grabbed the cloak waiting against the
wall. He gently covered his wife and lifted her into his arms. He didn't need
to cast a spell. She hardly weighed ninety pounds. Cradling her to his chest as
if she were his child, he carried her from the room, out of the dungeons, and
into the warm light of the manor.
Not that it mattered. Their hearts were cold without their child, made worse
because of the Malfoy curse. It was a very closely guarded secret of the Malfoy
family, but long ago a blood curse was laid down so that only one Malfoy child
could be born per generation, a single son. The evil bitch who'd cast the spell
had laughed, so the story went, and asked Armand Malfoy just how long he
thought his bloodline would continue? One generation? Two? Which Malfoy would
be the one to end the line and lose their only child before they could
reproduce?
That was nine hundred and twenty years ago. Lucius was the thirty-second Malfoy
since that curse. Draco was the thirty-third. Malfoys were survivalists. They
were powerful. That curse would not stop them or break their family. If they
could only have one son, they would put everything into that son. They would
make those sons strong.
Of course, Narcissa had been told of the curse before the marriage. She had
loved him enough to marry him in spite of her desire for a big family. She had
trusted him and her own power to protect Draco until he was old enough to
protect himself. And then the unthinkable happened. Draco wasstolen.
August 15th, 1981, Lucius had been summoned to a Death Eater meeting. He'd
expected to be told the next step in the war, to be shown the path to victory.
Instead, the Death Eaters had endured torture as their Lord demanded with
almost insane fervor that they find Little Harry Potter. As soon as they were
dismissed, Lucius had not stuck around. That long ago night, he remembered
thinking, Perhaps I should reconsider this path.But it was too late.
All thoughts had disappeared from his mind as soon as he was out from under the
Dark Lord's wards and Apparated home. The oppressive weight of the magic
saturating his home had taken him to his knees. Calling for the elves and
getting no response, Lucius had understood instantly that the impossible had
happened. The manor hadbeencompromised.
He had immediately rushed to the nursery only to find it empty, Draco gone.
Just past his first birthday and he'd been taken from them. All Narcissa and
the elves could remember of the attack was perfect darkness. The oppressive
weight had nearly suffocated them and had rendered them unconscious from lack
of oxygen.
The only good thing that had come of that nightmare time was the fact the Dark
Lord was destroyed soon after on All-Hallow's Eve night. Draco's abduction had
consumed Lucius. He'd had no time for Death Eaters or Lords or wars. Day and
night, he and Narcissa had searched the entire country for their little boy.
Lucius shook his head, escaping the old memories. Gently, he lay his bleeding,
naked wife down on their bed. A quick spell stopped the trickle of blood that
still flowed from the many cuts. Another spell cleaned her skin. Then,
exhausted, he began to mechanically remove his clothes. Once Lucius was naked,
he slid beneath the covers, pulling them over Narcissa, and held her cool body
close.
Lucius let his eyes shut, but although he slept, he did not rest. Not in five
years had he been able to rest. And when he discovered the identity of the
kidnapper... Lucifer, the darkest angel and his name sake, would be impressed
by Lucius' vengeance. Had the Dark Lord been alive, even he would cower before
Lucius' terrible rage.
                                      ...
Harry didn't sleep a wink all night. As soon as the sky outside their small
window began to lighten, he slithered from the bed and crept to Liam's room.
Liam was on his stomach, his arms and legs spread out, covering nearly all the
bed. Harry shook his shoulder gently. His heart beat with mad excitement in his
chest.
“Wha's it?” Liam slurred, cracking his blue eyes open.
“You said ta wake you up at dawn. Draco's still sleepin',” Harry whispered
loudly.
Liam groaned, but he pushed up and sat. His thick black hair hung tangled
around his face, and he pointed to the decorations with one hand while he
rubbed his face with the other. “Grab the goods. I'm making coffee.”
Harry grabbed all the bags, hooking three on each arm, and giggled as he
dropped them on the living room floor.
“Start blowing up balloons and flinging confetti around,” Liam directed in a
whisper. “I'll have to lift you so you can hang the streamers.”
Harry and Liam decorated like mad. They started just after five and weren't
satisfied until it was nearly eight. Harry stared around in astonishment.
Streamers – blue, red, green, and yellow – twisted and twirled and hung from
every corner of the ceiling. They were draped across the windows and from wall
to wall in all directions. Confetti glistened and glittered over every surface.
Red and blue balloons were taped along the walls wherever Harry thought they'd
look nice. The games they'd bought sat on the coffee table, colorful and
enticing. Party hats and little horns were ready on the dinning table. Harry
had never seen anything so colorful or amazing in his life.
“Go get the birthday boy,” Liam said with an excited grin. He'd had about a pot
of coffee by this point, so he was wide awake and nearly as excited as Harry.
Harry gave a soft squeal of delight and ran toward their bedroom.
Draco pretended to be asleep – Honestly, who could sleep with a hyper humming
bird zipping through their mind? - until Harry was within reach. Then he lashed
out, grabbing Harry by the chest and waist, and dragged him into the bed with
him.
Harry gave a laugh as Draco rained quick little kisses across his face.
Breathless, flushed, he giggled and squirmed, eyes bright and happy.
Draco grinned down at him. “What have ya been up to?”
“Nothing,” Harry lied terribly, grinning ear-to-ear. “Just, breakfast is
ready.”
Laughing under his breath, Draco crawled out of bed and off his boy. “I should
get dressed, then.”
Harry could hardly stand still as Draco put on clothes and casually made his
way out into the living room. Even he wasn't prepared for what awaited him. His
eyes went huge. It was as if a circus had moved in! He noticed the large banner
hanging above the couch. It read: Happy Birthday, Draco!, and it was written in
Harry's very careful lettering. His throat tightened as his heart melted.
Arms wrapped around him from behind as Harry said joyfully, “Love you, Draco!
Happy birthday!”
Draco turned in his embrace and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Harry wrapped
his arms around Draco's shoulders, opening his mouth eagerly to him.
“Alright, you two,” Liam said with a laugh. “Breakfast is getting cold.”
Draco pulled away from Harry reluctantly, lips hot and wet. Walking to the
table, Liam slipped a pointed paper hat on Draco's head. Draco let him,
attention on the pancake with over-easy eggs for eyes and bacon for a smiling
mouth. He looked up, eyebrow raised, only for a camera flash to go off. Liam
was laughing his ass off.
Harry clung to Draco's hand, grinning madly. “Wow, Liam, it's so cute! Like it,
Draco?” Happy green eyes stared into him.
“It's great. I love it.” Draco gave his boy another hug and kiss. “Thanks,
Liam,” he said with a grin and pushed Harry toward his seat. “Come on. Let's
eat before all Liam's hard work goes ta waste.”
They joked and laughed as they ate. Liam did funny voices and made up a story
about their pancakes who came from a town called Pancake Land. Afterward, Liam
refused to let Harry help with the dishes, telling him instead to go play one
of the new games with Draco, since it was his birthday and he shouldn't be
bored even one minute of it. It was the only argument that would have worked.
Draco allowed all of it with a bemused smile. They played a game called Sorry!,
and it made Draco laugh when Harry honestly felt sorry whenever he had to bump
Draco's pieces. By that time, Liam was done with the dishes and they got out
the Game Called Life.
Liam acted like getting married or a desk job was a death sentence. Draco and
Harry had become one team since Harry wanted to do everything the same as Draco
anyway. He was much happier when they shared a car and had two blue pieces in
the front.
Liam snickered, pointing out, “You're not supposed to start out the game
married. That's supposed to happen along the way.”
Draco stuck out his tongue. “I can't help it that I'm better than you at this
game already.”
But as they progressed, it was Draco's turn to be horrified when they drew
cards and landed on all the spaces for kids: triplets, adoption, a boy and a
girl. Soon they couldn't fit all the pegs in the car. Harry sensibly told Liam
to put some of their kids in his car since they were all one family anyway. By
the end, all three of them were in stitches, tears running down their cheeks
from laughing so hard.
After a morning of board games, they went to the park for some baseball, then
to the movies, and after ate at a restaurant for dinner. They went home for the
cake Harry and Liam had baked that morning, and Harry carried it with the six
burning candles very carefully to the table where Draco sat waiting. Liam began
singing and soon Harry joined in.
Sitting in the near dark, the candles filling the room with soft light, Draco
knew this had been the best day of his life.
“Make a wish, Draco,” Harry encouraged – love joy contentment.
Draco stared into those warm green eyes and answered honestly. “I don't have
ta. I already got you.”
Harry went into Draco's waiting arms, tears in his eyes.
“Together?” Draco asked softly as the candles continued to flicker.
Harry nodded. The light reflected off his glasses as they both blew and the
little flames went out.
Liam clapped and turned on the lights, his eyes were suspiciously bright.
They had their cake on the couch while watching tv. Harry didn't make it
through half of his piece before he fell asleep against Draco's shoulder. Liam
laughed under his breath and put Harry's plate on the coffee table before it
fell off the boy's lap and tugged the fork free of Harry's hand. Draco handed
off his plate once he was done and wrapped his arms more firmly around Harry.
He smoothed the wild hair back and slipped the glasses off his face.
“I got something for you,” Liam said, breaking the comfortable silence. He was
sitting on the other side of Harry and pulled a wrapped gift from between the
cushions.
Draco took it with a soft smile. “Thanks. Ya didn't have'ta. Today's been
great.”
Liam shrugged but didn't say anything, blue eyes averted.
Curious, Draco tore the paper, holding the gift behind Harry's back as he still
held the slightly smaller boy in his arms. It was a frame. Turning it over, he
saw it was the picture they took at the zoo. They were bundled in their scarves
and mittens. Liam was crouched down between them, arms around their shoulders.
Harry looked shy but happy.
He met Liam's eyes, hoping the man could see how grateful he was, and handed
him the picture. “Can we put it up out here?”
“Yeah,” Liam answered, voice thick with emotion. “I'd like that.”
He stood and placed the frame upright next to the tv where they all could see
it. Next to the new photo was an older one. It was a picture of Brendon and
Liam from four years ago. They were grinning, Brendon's arm flung across Liam's
shoulders. They were standing in front of a beat up car they had gone in on
together. It was their first car. Liam thought the two photos looked right
standing next to each other. He still missed Brendon fiercely, but he was glad
to have the boys in his life.
Gently running his hand over the frame of him and his brother, he turned to
help Draco get Harry into bed.
                                      ...
It was nearing the end of June. Surrey was filled with children who were out of
school for the summer. The weather was perfect, blue skies and warm breezes.
Arabella was probably the only one unhappy on the street.
She stared out at the house three houses up and across from her own. A chubby
six-year-old ran full speed from the house in a quick waddle, his face
stretched into a happy grin, his blond hair flopping. A thin woman stood in the
doorway waving her boy off to play. Then the door shut. No second boy. With a
huff, Arabella turned and ran her hand down Gus's back. The orange Kneazle
watched her with large pumpkin eyes.
“I've waited long enough,” she told him. “I know he said to contact him only in
emergencies, but this counts in my book! No point in keeping Harry Potter's
house a secret if he ain't in it, is there?”
Determined, Arabella went to the fireplace and pulled down the emergency floo
powder. Throwing it into the fire that she kept burning all year round, she
called out the Headmaster's address. He wasn't in, so she hurried to her desk
to write a note before sending it through:
Haven't seen him. All the other boarding kids are back. I have a bad feeling,
Albus. Please come. - Arabella
That done, she went back to her knitting where she could still see out her
window and waited for a response. It was Minerva who eventually arrived nearing
lunch time. The elderly witch wore a white blouse with a high-waisted black
skirt and black button-up boots. She looked like Mary Poppins, and it put a
smile on Arabella's face.
“Minerva, so glad you came!” she said, standing and offering her hands to the
woman.
The stern witch inclined her head, but did not take Arabella's hands. “Albus
sent me to check up on the boy.”
Arabella walked her to the door and pointed her to the right house, although
she was certain Minerva already knew which one. “Lost sight of the tyke in
November. Went over and asked casually after the boy, and they said they put
him in boarding school. But all the kids are back and still no sign of him.”
Minerva nodded her head, eyes behind her half-moon glasses surprisingly hard.
“I will see what has happened. If I do not like their answers, Harry will be
coming with me.”
Arabella watched the woman make her way across the street and was glad it was
Minerva who had come. Anyone else might bow to Albus' wishes, but Minerva
wouldn't let Harry stay in that house if it were not safe for his heart and
mind, that Arabella was certain of.
But there was no little boy to save. A little more than an hour later, Minerva
returned flushed and visibly upset. She didn't say two words to Arabella before
she was away in the floo. Arabella's heart pounded. She felt sick to her
stomach. Her cats hissed and milled restlessly around the room. Before
nightfall, Minerva returned with Professors Dumbledore and Snape. The men went
immediately across the street while Minerva stayed with her.
“I cannot bare to be among those people,” the woman told her, arms folded
squarely across her chest.
“C-can I ask...?” Arabella ventured, desperately worried for the little boy
she'd watched from afar for nearly five years.
Minerva looked her in the eye, tears welling in her own. “He is gone. I can
only hope he is still alive. Albus went to see if he can find more clues to
Harry's where-about's, but I doubt he will discover any more than I did.”
Arabella's hands flew to her mouth in horror.
Minerva pat her shoulder gently. “It is not your fault, my dear. You informed
the Headmaster when he disappeared and got information from the family. It is
the Headmaster who saw no evil in the message and chose not to follow up. The
fault lies with us.”
The sun had set and the street was cast in darkness when Professor Dumbledore
and Professor Snape returned. Arabella and Minerva were on the couch sipping
tea, but the women immediately put them aside. Minerva rose to her feet, but
Arabella couldn't seem to find the strength. Albus looked exhausted, but he
came and clasped her hands gently.
“My dear Mrs. Figg, thank you for watching so faithfully and contacting me
again. You were absolutely right to do so.”
“Can you find him?” she asked in a whisper, staring up into his faded blue
eyes.
The elderly wizard bowed his head, his long silvery hair and beard dipping low.
“I will do everything in my power to do so.”
For the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore to promise that was no small thing,
and it made Arabella feel better. Surely the Headmaster would be able to find
Harry. She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
                                      ...
For nearly a month, Albus, Minerva, and Severus cast every spell they could
think of, performed every ritual Light, Dark, and in between, and all they knew
was that Harry was alive and to the west.
“I believe he is in America,” Albus spoke gravely.
He stood at the window to his office, his hands linked behind his back. He wore
his favorite lavender robes with silver stars since he needed something to try
and boost his spirits. His waist-length hair and beard were left to hang free
and unbound. He turned from the night-dark window and looked at his two
colleagues. Severus stood in the shadows by the door, while Minerva sat primly
in a chair that she had conjured. They both faced him with identical
expressions of hope and despair.
“This will need to be handled very delicately,” Minerva said carefully, eyeing
him over the frames of her glasses.
That was an understatement. The Magical Congress of North America held seats on
the International Confederation of Wizards and participated in international
Quidditch, but they were not interested in close ties to any wizarding
population that had more than a passing connection to non-magical people.
As of 1790, when North America instated Rappaport's Law, it was strictly
forbidden for magical people to come into contact with muggles for longer than
was strictly necessary. In fact, it was illegal to wed or even befriend a
muggle, and Muggleborns were stolen and fostered by a magical family as soon as
they were discovered. The muggle parents were then made to believe their child
never existed or spelled to think they were dead, which Britain's Wizengamot
and Ministry for Magic saw as criminally and morally wrong.
On one hand, the M.C.N.A. would be highly motivated to find Harry as a magical
child in the hands of muggle slavers. Also, they held strong views on Death
Eaters and Voldemort. Any wizard who supported the Dark Lord would be met with
the death penalty in America for participating in Exposure Events, so Harry
would be safe from news getting back to Dark corners.
(According to the M.C.N.A., it was a crime for a wizard to attack/kill a muggle
because it increased the possibility of exposure, which was to be avoided at
all cost, and carried a death sentence to anyone who was convicted of such an
act. In fact, participating in an Exposure Event was the only crime punishable
by death. All other crimes resulted in penalties or imprisonment. Voldemort and
his followers were marked as enemies due to the Dark Lords frequent raids among
the muggle populace.)
But while Albus could be certain involving the magical government of America
would keep Harry's situation secret from Death Eaters, it was also true that
the M.C.N.A.'s aversion to interacting with muggles could potentially slow
their search down by a significant margin. Therefore, Albus would need to
unofficially alert the American government, somehow without alerting the
Ministry of Magic or the British media. Whoever was chosen to lead the search
for Harry would also have to carefully maneuver so they would have some
independence from M.C.N.A's regulations during the search so that they could
verge into muggle areas if necessary. To conclude, the person who Albus chose
would need to be direct but also diplomatic.
He gave Minerva a thoughtful look. She sat tall and strong, her hair in her
customary bun, her eyes sharp behind her glasses. She was powerful and
diplomatic, and he trusted her implicitly, but if she went missing from her
post at Hogwarts, it would arouse suspicions. Severus' absence would also be
marked, also he was too connected to the Death Eaters to be accepted into
America. So it would have to be …
“You cannot be serious,” the Potion Master said lowly, dark eyes glinting.
“It is the only choice, my boy,” Albus answered firmly. “You will find Remus
Lupin, Severus. He has all the required skills, as well the loyalty we need.”
“His condition...” Severus hissed furiously.
“Is tolerated much more in America than here,” Albus cut him off. “As long as
Remus turns himself in to a containment station on the night of the full moon,
he will be treated as a normal citizen and without fear.”
“Why me?” As Severus stepped into the light, Albus could see clearly the look
of hatred on the man's face.
“You are better skilled in finding those who do not wish to be found,” he said
gently, tipping his head down and looking at the dark-haired wizard over his
glasses. “It is for Harry, Severus.”
Severus snarled and spun, his robes flaring around him as he stormed from the
room.
“Are you certain, Albus?” Minerva asked quietly, rising to her feet with a look
of concern.
He turned from her, pained by her doubt, although it was deserved, and looked
out over the night-shrouded grounds. “As certain as I can be.”
                                       …
Draco tip-toed over to the bed. Harry was curled up on his side, hands gently
curled by his slightly parted mouth. His messy hair fell over his forehead and
fanned out across the pillow. Smiling, Draco bent down and slowly, traced those
pink lips with his tongue.
When Harry moaned in his sleep and rolled onto his back, Draco breathed warmly
over the boy's exposed neck before gently sucking the soft skin into his mouth.
Sleepy green eyes flickered open, but Harry made no move to escape. He lay limp
and relaxed, even as Draco applied more pressure. With another moan, Harry's
thighs instinctively opened - Draco could hear the slide of Harry's skin
against the sheets.
- love pleasure desire -
Bitting into Harry's skin, Draco left a bruise but was careful not to draw
blood. He grinned down at him. “Time ta wake up,” he sing-songed.
Harry smiled and rolled onto his side before pushing up. Draco giggled. Harry's
hair stood nearly on end in some places and was crushed flat in others. It was
the cutest thing he ever saw.
In only a few minutes, Draco got Harry dressed and took him by the hand,
leading him into the living room. Harry froze at the end of the hall, staring
with wide eyes. Balloons filled the room, hundreds of them. They floated along
the ceiling and bunched up along the floor. White and green and blue and yellow
and pink and purple and red, every color nearly creating wall that filled the
room. Harry could just make out parts of Liam in the kitchen. He was grinning
like a loon, his hair up in a high ponytail. Harry could smell the pancakes and
bacon frying on the stove.
“Wha...” Harry gasped and melted into Draco's arms as the blond hugged him from
behind.
“It's your birthday, silly,” Draco whispered in his ear, playfully nipping his
earlobe. “July 31st, remember?”
“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Liam called cheerfully in the background. “Breakfast
is coming right up.”
Harry gasped again. He couldn't comprehend it. Turning from the vibrant scene,
he pushed his head into Draco's chest and clung to the blond – shock fear.
Draco held him close and ran a hand through Harry's hair soothingly. He towed
Harry to the dinning table and sat him on a chair. Then he crouched and looked
up at the boy, his hands pressing firmly into Harry's thighs. The boy blinked
at him tearfully from behind his glasses, his lower lip trembling.
“You're okay, Harry. I've got you,” he said softly, smiling. “And I'm so
excited for your party, just like ya were for mine. Birthdays make everyone
happy, yeah?”
Harry blinked again, his heart slowing down. Draco's hands anchored him; the
unwavering grey eyes made him feel safe. He could focus. Happy, Draco was
happy. Birthdays were for everyone to be happy. His birthday made Draco and
Liam happy, so it was okay. He wasn't being bad.
Draco smiled and stood. Cupping Harry's face in his hands, he bent and kissed
him deeply. * Good boy. That's it. Relax. I'm happy. It's your birthday and
that's a good day. *
Liam cleared his throat as he set breakfast on the table, but Draco continued
to press his tongue firmly into Harry's mouth, letting the smaller boy suck on
it. When their mouths parted, it was with a soft smack.
Draco smiled ruefully. He hadn't realized his hands had moved into Harry's
hair. It now stuck up everywhere again. Smoothing it down, he turned Harry
toward the table and took the seat next to him. Liam was fiddling with his
napkin, purposefully averting his eyes. Draco playfully kicked his shin and
grinned unrepentantly when Liam looked up.
“Thanks. Looks good,” he said, gesturing with a fork at his smiling pancake.
“Thank you, Liam!” Harry gushed, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. He was
smiling again.
Draco sat back smug with his success at managing Harry. He watched with pure
affection as Harry and Liam struck up a conversation about the adventure of
getting all the balloons in the house without Harry's knowledge. Harry stared
in admiration at Draco when Liam explained that Draco had planned the whole
thing.
Draco leaned over to kiss his nose. “Eat,” he reminded.
Once breakfast was done, Draco gave Harry the okay and the boy tentatively
moved into the living room among all the balloons. Draco laughed and plowed
right in, sending balloons flying. Harry squealed in delight and was soon
crashing around the living room making balloons go everywhere. Liam joined them
and tackled the boys onto the couch, trying to bury them under the colorful
flood.
Soon they were all laughing and giggling. Liam showed Draco how rubbing a
balloon on someone's hair made it stand on end. He did this by demonstrating it
on the blond of course, and before he knew it, Harry and Draco were tackling
him and rubbing balloons against his head.
It had become a birthday tradition. Birthday breakfast and time together,
followed by a day out in the city, to come home for cake after dinner.
Liam turned the lights off and lit the candles. This time it was Draco who got
to carry the cake with six dancing flames. Harry stared enraptured into Draco's
gleaming grey eyes. In the background, he could hear Liam begin to sing.
“Make a wish, Harry,” Draco said lowly, never once looking away.
Harry swallowed hard. His throat so tight with emotion he couldn't speak. He
remembered being Freak in the closet. The hunger and thirst, the pain of being
filthy, and the agony of being unwanted. He'd been horrible and wretched. Now
he was a person, with a name, and a birthday, and a Liam. He only had these
things because he had a Draco. Draco was everything to him.
I want to be useful to him. I want to make him happy and keep him safe, Harry
prayed with everything that was in him and blew. I love him so much, please let
me be good.
Draco and Liam cheered, but Harry began to cry. He didn't deserve Draco. He
really didn't. And he was never going to be good enough. Not in a million
years.
Then Draco was there. He gripped Harry's chin firmly with one hand and pinched
the back of his arm with the other. The sharp pain made Harry's heart slow,
even if his emotions still churned. He stared into Draco's eyes desperately.
“Wanna be good for you,” he whispered fiercely, the fear of never being good
enough thick in his voice.
Draco pinched him again, this time on his side over his ribs. His other hand
never wavered on Harry's chin, holding it up and forcing him to look into
Draco's eyes. “Trust me,” he said gently and then spoke into Harry's mind. *
I'll tell you when you do wrong. Let the worry go. We are one and the same. You
gave me every part of you, and now you're mine. All you gotta do is trust me,
Harry. That's the only thing you need to do. The rest is all me. Can you trust
me, Harry? *
Draco pinched him again, this time in the armpit. It hurt, sharp and deep, and
Harry knew he was saved. He let the worry disappear with the sting. Draco was
here and Harry was Draco's, so it was all okay. He was safe and good, because
Draco had him. Draco would take care of Harry, so Harry didn't have to worry.
He just had to focus on Draco, what Draco wanted and needed, and Harry would be
good.
“I trust you,” he breathed, pained tears streaking his face but feeling
peaceful once more.
Draco released him and stepped back.
Calm, centered, Harry blinked and smiled, every place Draco had pinched
throbbed hotly with blood. It anchored him. He saw that Liam looked upset, and
Harry turned trustingly to Draco, knowing he'd fix it.
Draco bumped Liam's shoulder, saying, “Guess we don't need'ta cut pieces, huh?”
And he grabbed a handful of cake and smeared it across Liam's face.
Harry laughed and grabbed a handful of cake and icing, throwing it at Draco.
Draco turned and tried to catch it in his mouth, but it mostly hit his cheek.
Liam couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, and then it was an all out food
fight.
Chapter end.
A/N:I hope you liked the glimpses into the magical world.


 
***** Diplomacy *****
Updated:6.18.16
A/N:Thank you for all the support. This story is definitely being difficult and
loving it. :D
The comments/reviews really help. You guys are amazing! Thanks again.
Warning: breath play, dom/sub, oral

                                   Diplomacy
                                    August
Remus landed in New York city and immediately collapsed. His consciousness swam
in and out of focus until an arched ceiling with a golden dome came slowly into
focus. It took him several seconds to make sense of up and down and realize he
was looking at a ceiling and not a wall. Groaning, he rolled off his back and
onto his side, pushing up with his arms to wobble into a sitting position.
Immediately, a happy female voice accosted him. “Welcome to Magical America. It
takes time to recover from international Portkey. Take a few minutes and then
move over here, please, to register your wand and magical signature.”
Remus turned his head, feeling like hot metal was strung through every joint.
It wasn't much different from the aftereffects of his transformation, so he was
able to push through it. A bouncy blond in Muggle clothes stood to the side by
a podium. Remus's bags were already on a table being searched magically by two
burly men, also in Muggle clothes. The blue-eyed witch gave him a smile and
gestured him over. Remus obediently pushed to his feet and stiffly made his way
to her.
“Wow. You must be strong. Didn't take you long at all,” she said cheerfully,
popping her gum. “Name, country of origin, and reason for traveling, please.”
“Remus John Lupin, England, personal reasons,” he answered mildly.
“Okay. Wand, please. Then I will ask you to cast your favorite spell on this
book, please, sir.”
Remus handed over his wand. She placed it in her book and shut it. She held it
shut for a good minute before opening her book and handing it back. Remus aimed
at the pages and cast, “Expecto Patronum!” He saw calligraphy and runes appear
in a quick stream before she shut it and snapped her gum again.
“Alrighty. Your bags have been cleared. You are currently on the basement level
of the Woolworth building at 233 Broadway, Manhattan, in the city of New York.
Please remember that Exposure to Mundanes is strictly prohibited and will be
met with extreme consequences. We ask you to refrain from magical dress unless
in a warded and secure location. Otherwise please wear the current Mundane
style of clothes appropriate for your age and gender.”
Remus flushed. He'd been so confident in his new robes, but he'd still managed
to get it wrong. Albus had provided him a modest wardrobe and access to a small
account. It wouldn't do to be dressed in rags and dirt poor while on a rescue
slash diplomatic mission, after all. “Is there anywhere I can change?”
“Bathroom's down the hall to the left,” she answered with a friendly smile.
“While you are here, you are obligated to obey all of M.C.N.A. laws. That
includes no interactions with Mundanes past what is absolutely necessary,
especially sexual relations. If you have need of company, there are appropriate
services offered in the magical district. The magical district is located
underground. Here is map with labeled entrances. Those magical residences and
businesses above ground are color coordinated. All residences are marked in
green; the few businesses are marked in blue. Any questions?”
“I, um,” Remus began, then shaking his head, he straightened his shoulders. “I
must report I am an infected Lycanthrope.”
“Ah,” she said and gave him a sympathetic smile. It was so unexpected that
Remus nearly gaped. “There are seminars being held regularly that discuss the
newly developed trance meditation that has shown remarkable results of taming
the wild energy of the beast.” She reached into her podium and retrieved
another map. “Times and dates are marked here along with the locations. Also,
there are containment areas north of the city where you will be safe to run on
the night of the moon. The containment field has a medical station with fully
trained Healers to tend to you afterwards. If you fail to check in to the field
by 5pm on the night of the moon, you will be retrieved and immediately
extradited the next morning.”
Hands trembling, Remus accepted the map. He looked into her eyes and offered a
sincere, “Thank you.”
She patted his hand gently. “No worries. Any other questions?”
Remus cleared his throat. “Um, is there any way I can schedule an appointment
with your Head Auror or the President? It's a matter of prophecy. I can say no
more than that.”
She gave him an odd look, but she nodded. “I will check. Please change and wait
in the lobby. I will find you.”
“Thank you, Miss....”
“Betty Thompson,” she answered with a wink and smile.
                                       …
Remus had to wait more than five hours, but he was grateful for the reprieve.
The Woolworth Building was amazing. The old gothic architecture was fascinating
and the marbled floors and arched ceilings were painted with extraordinary
renditions of old maps and ornate art. The views from the windows of the
sprawling city were just as breathtaking.
There were Wizarding shops and newsstands, a cafe, and other things to occupy
his time. Just as Miss Thompson had indicated, everyone was dressed as Muggles.
Except for the few magical things on display, he could be in a Muggle office
building and not tell the difference. Another thing that intrigued him was the
lack of wands. Most of the wizards he watched did minor wandless magic or did
things the Muggle way. He didn't see a single wand in use. When Miss Thompson
found him as promised, he asked her about it.
“Wands are used for great magics or rituals. We find it wasteful to use wanded
magic constantly. Magic is to be respected, not cheapened with minor chores,”
she said casually, not realizing she was saying something remarkable to his
British way of thinking. “Here we are.”
From the length of time they had spent on the elevator, Remus suspected they
were on the top floor of the massive building. They stepped out into a foyer as
grand as anything seen in the Ministry. People were wearing magical attire, but
it was very different from what he was used to in Britain.
Many of the robes were in pastel or pale colors instead of exclusively in dark
colors as Remus was used to seeing. The robe material was thin and simple, more
of a Greek or Roman style of dress, and there were feathers and rustic cords
with bones, runes, and crystals hanging from necks and wrists. Large silver and
cold rings with precious stones adorned many fingers, and a few people carried
staves.
Remus followed his guide feeling lost, but all he had to do was think of his
Harry and a wave of determination would wash through him, giving him strength.
He was led to two massive doors that Miss Thompson opened with a wave of her
hand. She gestured him further into the room but did not follow. Instead, she
shut the doors behind him. Remus stood in an office. There were magical devices
on shelves, books lining the walls, and a massive fireplace. A huge arched
window stood at the far side of the room. Dark purple curtains were hooked on
either side and could be drawn to shut out the light. The floor held a huge
emblem of an eagle against a golden circle with the American flag and golden
stars around it's head.
Near the window an enormous desk with papers and other odds and ends sat, and
behind the desk was a man that looked only ten years Remus's senior. He was of
Native American decent and had long, glossy black hair that hung straight as a
ruler down the middle of his back. He wore pale silver robes and at least a
dozen necklaces in various lengths with charms and crystals. His skin was tan
and he had round black eyes that seemed to peer into Remus's soul. Remus
swallowed hard and slowly approached the desk.
“I am President Cyrus Smackhammer. I was told you had a matter of prophecy to
discuss with me.” The man had a deep, melodious voice and an aura of power.
Remus had to clear his throat as he tried to remember the speech he and Albus
had worked on. “I have come on urgent business regarding the future safety of
the magical worlds. However, I cannot reveal more to you without an Unbreakable
Vow that you will not communicate what I am about to tell you to others. It is
crucial that this information does not go public.”
Those dark eyes watched him thoughtfully. The president's face was angular with
a strong jaw. There were faint scars on his right cheek and through his left
eyebrow. He was smooth skinned, wearing no beard, and his robes were decorated
with feathers along his waist. A few could be seen woven into his long hair. He
had a staff in a holder next to his chair. It was thick and almost as tall as
Remus. Runes were carved into its entire length. Bones, beads, and feathers
fell from a cord wrapped around the top.
Slowly, Smackhammer rose and Remus had to look up. The President had to be
taller than six foot five. He moved around the desk and offered his right hand.
Magic shrouded the man, and Remus's fingers shook, feeling the calluses against
his palm. Voice smooth and even, President Smackhammer invoked his magic and
swore the Vow. Remus felt the bind settle on the man and shivered at the weight
of that magic.
The president released him and took a single step back. “What trouble do you
bring to my land, Mr. Lupin?”
“The boy of prophecy, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, was sold by his Muggle
family into Muggle slavery last November. We traced him to North America, but
no more specific than that. I need help trying to rescue him.”
“That is horrible news,” Smackhammer said gravely. “But how does this concern
the future of the magical world? If the boy had a prophecy, I would think it
already accomplished.”
Remus shook his head. “He has completed half of his prophecy. Unfortunately,
there is evidence that Voldemort will rise again. Harry has yet to vanquish him
completely. Without Harry, exposure to the Muggle world will be inevitable.”
Stackhammer's frown deepened and he gestured Remus to a seat on the couch set
off to the side. With a gesture of the President's hand, a chair was summoned
and he sat at an angle to Remus. “Tell me more. I need to know as much as
possible if I am to help you. As I am bound to silence, there is no reason not
to confide in me.”
Remus knew he could say that was as much as the President needed to know.
America was no one's ally. They were guarded and secretive, but they were also
upfront about their position in the world. And allies or not, Stackhammer did
care about Voldemort, the madman was a threat to them all. He also cared about
a magical child in Muggle hands. Remus wanted Harry back as quickly as
possible. He honestly did not care about the diplomatic relationships between
nations. Not right now. So he told Stackhammer all that he knew, which wasn't
much anyway.
After he finished his tale, the President stood and put a hand on his shoulder.
He stared down at Remus solemnly. “We will find your Harry if he is still
alive.”
Remus nodded, throat tight with emotion. “Thank you, President Smackhammer.”
                                       …
                                   September
* It's okay, Harry. Jess and Liam will be here soon. Take deep breaths, *Draco
told his boy, all the while staring stonily at the woman sitting in front of
him.
She had directed him to a couch and handed him a slightly tattered teddybear.
She wore glasses and her brown hair up in a messy bun. Her cream button-down
shirt was pulled taut across her large breasts. The brown skirt she wore fell
just past her knees. She kept smiling at him and asking him questions in a soft
voice. Questions like, Do you feel safe at home? Has anyone ever touched you in
strange places? How do you feel about Harry?
Draco refused to say a word. He stared at her blankly and talked to Harry in
his head. He could feel the tension in his boy build and it put him on edge, a
mix of – anxiety guilt -coming through the bond.
It was all so annoying. The problem wasn't them, it was the school. Everything
about school was stupid. Like for example getting in trouble for defending
yourself, but the kid who started it doesn't have anything happen. Or the
constant screaming and disobedience of the class. Or the stupid baby books
about useless things they had to read. It was six hours of irritation and
headache for no clear reason that Draco could figure out. He had no idea why
school was mandatory, nor why Liam put so much emphasis on it.
“Draco, I want to help you. I promise, if you just talk to me, I can make all
the bad things go away,” she told him, leaning down to look him in the eye. She
put a hand on his thigh. “If someone is hurting you, you need to tell me.”
Draco's lips parted in a snarl, his eyes going metallic. “Get your hand off
me,” he told her coldly.
With a gasp, she yanked away from him. “I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to...”
Harry's emotional torment faded into a feeling of - relief trust. Draco
relaxed. Jess must have arrived.
                                       …
Harry hated school. Hated the busy class and the constant noise. Hated how he
kept getting Draco in trouble. He'd tried to tell Draco to leave it be, to not
bother when the other kids pushed him or took the things he was using, but
Draco wouldn't listen. He would push the kids and take the things back, and
then the other kids would cry, and then Draco would be in trouble. All because
of Harry.
And so Harry had started to not let the other kids take his things. Because he
didn't want Draco to get in trouble. He'd hold on and push the kids back, and
then he would be in trouble for fighting. And no matter how hard Harry tried,
his stomach would still twist when the teacher was mad at him, but then Draco
would come and kiss him and pet him and make him feel better, which was nice,
and school was finally working, but then the teacher found them hiding in the
bathroom kissing. Now they were separated, and Harry was scared and confused
and so sorry. He wanted to go home and never come back to school again.
The woman wearing black pants and a pink shirt sat beside him in an office. She
looked at him with serious eyes that made Harry tremble with their weight. “Who
taught you to kiss like that, Harry? You're not in trouble, but I need to know
if I'm going to help you. Is Draco the first person to kiss you? Or someone
else?”
Harry watched through is bangs, wishing he could just curl up and fade away
until Draco found him. His hands twisted his purple shirt until it pulled
tight, half of it twisted up in his hands.
The woman's eyes dropped to his skin and then flashed up in a glare. “Where'd
you get those bruises, Harry?”
Harry glanced down and saw almost gone yellow green bruises on his side from
Draco. The marks made him feel comfortable, reassured him Draco had him, but
they were almost gone now, so it sent another layer of anxiety slithering
through his body. He burst into tears.
The woman moved forward to wrap him in her arms and Harry panicked. He flailed
his arms, a thin whine rising in this throat. Suddenly the door burst open and
Jess strode into the room.
“Let go of my son,” she demanded icily.
Harry went limp with relief. Jess had come just as Draco had promised. He
stared up at the Japanese woman, sniffling and needing comfort. She stepped
closer and flicked her fingers in a 'come' gesture. Harry, heart hammering,
gratefully scrambled off his seat and hid behind her legs. He pressed himself
close and just tried to breathe like Draco wanted.
The woman in the pink shirt stood and crossed her arms. Her blond hair fell
around her face and down over her shoulders. She looked mad. “I'm Dr. Hughes,
the school guidance counselor. Thank you for coming. I'm sorry to say there was
an incident in class today. Harry was found behaving very inappropriately with
another boy. It was very shocking and concerning to the teacher and staff. Ms.
Yagami, can you explain the bruises on Harry's chest?”
Harry darted a quick glance up at Jess. She looked intense. Jess was shorter
and smaller than the other woman, but it was the doctor who was flushed in the
face and shifting her weight uncertainly.
“I would think you would try and gather all the facts before jumping to
conclusions, Dr. Hughes,” Jess said with utter disapproval. “I appreciate your
concern and diligence when it comes to my son's safety. However, if this is the
kind of management I can expect at this school, then I am not sure my son will
continue attending.”
“Excuse me?” the woman asked, eyes wide. “I don't know what...”
Jess interrupted her with a flick of her fingers. “That is exactly what I am
talking about. You do not know, and it has led you to unfortunate conclusions
that have upset my son unnecessarily. Harry plays baseball under a strict
regimen. He shows exceptional talent as a pitcher, and it was decided by his
coach and myself that despite his young age it wouldn't hurt to begin training.
That is the source of his occasional bruise.” She gave a smile, but it was
dangerous not sweet. “I adopted Harry just this year. It cost me an
extraordinary amount of time and money. Do you suggest that I would go to such
an effort to take in an abused, orphaned child into my family just to continue
that abuse? Do not be absurd. Look at how he trusts me to protect him. Protect
him from you, I might add. If anyone is making him feel insecure it is you,
doctor, and I really must question your ability with children.”
Dr. Hughes looked flushed and furious. She crossed her arms. “We caught him
kissing another boy, Ms. Yagami. I strongly recommend you take him to see a
professional for such unnatural behavior.”
Harry flinched and pressed his face into Jess's legs, closing his eyes tight.
“Thank you for your... recommendation... I will give it the consideration it
deserves,” Jess answered, voice icy.
Then Harry was being lifted into her arms and carried from the room. He wrapped
his arms around her neck, her long silky hair sliding over his arms as he did
so, and kept his eyes tightly closed. Miserable and sick, he lay complacent in
her arms. He wanted Draco.
                                       …
“What the hell is going on in here?” Liam demanded, stepping into the room.
Draco looked up at him with such a locked down expression that he saw red. He
strode over and placed himself firmly between Draco's chair and the woman. She
was visibly flustered, but she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze head
on.
“Mr. O'Shae, Draco was caught in the bathroom behaving... inappropriately with
another student,” Principal Garro told him, voice heavy with meaning. “Such
behavior at a young age is... disturbing.”
Liam slammed his hand down on her desk. “I don't want to hear your opinions
regarding my brother. I can see it plainly on your face, thanks. Clearly you
don't have the ability to provide a positive learning environment.”
“Mr. O'Shae!” the principal gasped. “Surely you must realize the seriousness of
this situation. He was with a boy, Mr. O'Shae. If you don't take care of this
unacceptable behavior now, he may become a pervert!”
Liam cut in furiously. “I understand perfectly, you ignorant bitch. Come on,
Draco, let's go.” He took Draco by the hand and turned to the door.
“Mr. O'Shae!”
“Feel free to call the cops, bitch.” He turned to look at her over his
shoulder, his expression dangerous. “You'll find homosexuality isn't illegal no
matter how many assholes like you exist, and screaming about my six-year-old
brother being gay will only make you look like the monster you really are.”
With that, he slammed the door behind him. He had already collected Draco's
withdraw papers before coming into the office, so they didn't stop on their
march out to the parking lot. He kept shooting Draco worried glances, but the
boy remained locked down and unemotional even when they were safely in the car.
He pulled out and headed for Brendon's club. He knew that's where Jess would
have taken Harry.
They said not a word as they made the trip. Liam's tension built to nearly
unbearable levels, but still Draco didn't speak. The blond got out of the car
with deceptive calmness and crossed the street at a walk. As soon as he stepped
into the club, Harry – sitting in the nearest booth – began to give off a high-
pitched whine.
Liam winced, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as Draco made his way calmly
over to the booth and Harry. He still said nothing as Harry's whine grew
louder, building into a wail. He calmly unhooked the red curtains on either
side and pulled them closed, disappearing behind them. The wail cut off with a
loud gasp. Liam bit his lip so hard it nearly bled.
“They're fine,” Jess said quietly from behind him.
He turned and saw that she looked as serene as ever. He said nothing,
unconsciously asking for reassurance.
She smiled gently and brushed her fingertips over his cheek, hooking his hair
behind his ear. “They are merely reassuring each other that they will not be
parted in spite of society's view on their relationship. They will be perfectly
fine in an hour.” She turned so that she stood beside him and hooked her arm
through his. “Come. We must discuss their education. I do not believe public
school is right for them at this point. That kind of uncontrolled environment
is too stressful for both of them, not to mention they are more mature then
their peers. It is not a good fit at this time, and in fact I am impressed that
they made it a month. What do you think about homeschool?”
Liam allowed himself to be led to their customary table by the bar. He couldn't
help noticing it was the furthest table from the booth Harry had been waiting
in. He lifted an eyebrow in question. Jess smiled, secretive and mischievous,
and Liam felt his stomach flutter. Surprised, he quickly looked away, a blush
on his cheeks.
                                       …
Harry saw the front door open and his eyes immediately latched onto Draco. The
blond had absolutely no expression and Harry felt sick. He'd ruined everything
for Draco. Because he was a Freak; an unnatural, stupid, useless brat. He was
wailing by this point and Draco was closing the curtains, closing them in. It
made Harry relax a little. Then silver eyes were on him and that's all Harry
could see.
“Quiet,” Draco ordered, low and serious, staring into his eyes.
Harry gasped as he felt that absolute control fall around him, held him safe.
He held his breath, afraid to make a sound.
Draco's face relaxed for the first time. A small smile softened his mouth, and
Harry felt new tears well up and spilled down his raw cheeks.
(Desperately want to be good for Draco)
He couldn't bear to be without his Draco. It terrified him that some people
thought they should be apart. He needed Draco to reassure him that would never
happen, but he also knew that it would be best for Draco if it did.
(Cursed ugly disgusting thing shouldn't be with Draco)
If Harry loved Draco, he should get away from him, but Harry literally couldn't
imagine life without his savior. He tried to picture it and all he saw was...
(Blackness, cupboards, starvation, hateful glares from every face, could feel
his skin crawling with filth, and the soul-stealing desperation and loneliness
that tore his mind to pieces!)
But that's what a disgusting freak like him deserved. Truly it was, but he
couldn't stand it. He loved Draco so much! Would do anything to stay with him.
Needed him more than food and light and life.
(Please don't leave me!)
Harry could feel it - the insanity trembling at the edges of his mind - but he
grew still as the seconds passed and his lungs continued to burn. The screaming
doubts and fears slowly faded as his ears began to ring. Draco continued to pin
him with his stare; his words binding Harry's lungs and throat. Slowly by
inches, as Harry's vision began to tunnel and his chest spasmed, his filthy
body was reclaimed, no longer belonging to the horrible Freak but to the
powerful and brilliant Draco.
“Good boy,” Draco whispered and reached over to tug off Harry's glasses. He set
them aside on the table. Then he pulled Harry's shirt slowly up and off. “Stand
up.”
Harry rose to his feet on the seat, swaying dizzily. He had to hold tight to
the back of the padded booth, his face growing hot and tight, his skin
throbbing as he continued to hold his breath. He felt his heart kicking hard as
his pants were undone and pulled down with his underwear. Then Draco guided him
to sit on the table as his shoes and socks were pulled off, which had his pants
falling to the floor.
Naked, sitting on the table with Draco kneeling in front of him on the bench,
Harry felt -anxious anticipation - mix with a very physical need. His back
arched slightly as his lungs spasmed. Involuntarily his mouth opened, but he
refused to open his throat. Draco was smiling, he couldn't disappoint him, not
after ruining school. He was Draco's, and Draco would tell Harry when. He would
take care of Harry and make everything right again. He would own him completely
and make him clean.
Draco gently stroked Harry's throat and continued to stare into his eyes. Harry
began to feel faint. His arms flailed weakly. His legs kicked. Then he was
tipping back, but Draco was coming with him. The blond rose to his feet and
bent over him, pressing his hands on either side of Harry's head as he kept
staring down at him. The world tunneled. All there was was Draco and then...
* Breathe. *
Harry gasped loudly, back arching again, but Draco's hand was over his mouth
and nose, muffling the sound and only letting a thin trickle of air through.
Harry's eyes rolled, his hands clawed at the table. He kept gasping, pulling in
as much air as possible, but it was barely enough. Draco held him on the edge
of unconsciousness, and it was good. He was Draco's utterly. His body, heart,
mind: all of it was Draco's and he was safe.
* Such a good boy, *Draco's voice whispered through the darkness. * You stood
up to those stupid kids at school. Because they were disrespecting me, weren’t
they, Harry? Because you're mine and they were being mean to someone
that'smine. So you protected yourself like a good boy. Love you so much, Harry.
No one can take you away from me. Not ever. No one can come betweenthis. *
Harry was gasping desperately against the hand pressed to his face. He was
blind, mind spinning, couldn't feel his body. He was free! Everything was
singing, surging, and Draco's voice laced through it all.
(Yes, Draco, more, make it better, makemebetter.)
And then he was arching off the table, almost coming to a sitting position as
Draco released him. Air poured in and it felt glorious. He blinked eyes
streaming tears and saw that he was clutching at Draco's shoulders. Draco was
petting him, murmuring in his ear how much he loved him and how good he was.
Then they were kissing. Harry's head spun deliciously as Draco's warm, wet
tongue pressed in. Panting loudly through his nose, Harry opened himself to the
kiss and held on.
Sliding wetly, their mouths parted. Harry gasped and panted, face red and hot.
Draco soothed him, stroked his shoulders and cheeks and throat. Harry was limp
in his arms, trusting. And then Draco was asking him, “What do you want,
Harry?”
“Please,” he gasped, knowing exactly what he craved. “Please. Mark. Please.
Draco.”
Draco laid him gently back until Harry was on the table again. Harry watched
through blurry eyes as the blond gently touched the fading bruises on his arms,
chest, and thighs. He bent and kissed each one, claiming ownership of each. By
the time he was finished, Harry was breathing normally and squirming as shivery
anticipation sparked wherever Draco's mouth touched.
“This is gonna hurt,” Draco told him, eyes silver. “Not a sound, Harry.”
Harry bit his lip at that promise and opened his legs helplessly.
Draco bent and placed his mouth on the tender part of his inner thigh, high
near the juncture of thigh and hip. Draco began to suck. His cheek rubbed
Harry's privates, he was so close. Electric shocks blazed through Harry with
every pull of Draco's mouth.
It was soft at first, making Harry whimper, but then hard enough to pull blood
to the surface. Draco's hand was under Harry's butt, pressing him up against
Draco's open mouth. The other was clamped down hard on his thigh by his knee,
pinning him in place. And then he sucked harder still. Harry had to hold his
breath again to prevent the moan that wanted to escape.
Draco bit down hard and unforgiving, and Harry arched off the table as
fireworks exploded behind his eyes.
He was still coming down, head spinning, still not breathing, when he felt the
suction start on the opposite inner thigh. He gasped in air, sweat pouring down
his face, and clawed the table. Head tossing restlessly side-to-side, he held
still and didn't breathe as the bite came down.
Silent as commanded, Harry took the pain deep inside and let it break the
chains of filth and hate that crushed him. It wiped everything away, wiped
everything clean. No more school and disappointment and unnaturalness. He was
safe. Just Harry. With Draco. He was Draco's still, again, for always.
Cheeks flushed red, his mouth swollen, Draco's blood sang with the power of
Harry's emotions. He grasped Harry's hips in his hands and slurped Harry's
member into his mouth. He just held it there, tongue rolling and lashing the
soft, warm skin until Harry thought he was coming undone! The sharp pain still
streaking through him from his thighs and Draco's mouth combined to make a
blinding explosion.
Harry's legs kicked involuntarily. His green eyes blazed blindly as his mouth
gaped, chest frozen, utterly silent just as ordered. Draco's whole body
shuddered as the ecstasy rolled through the bond. Moaning deep in his chest,
Draco's hips rolled and thrust against the air as his body surged over the
peak. Flying, Harry was flying. Fireworks, pain, mind-shattering pleasure,
DracoDracoDraco!
Shivering, body jerking once, Harry lay limp and loose. He panted loudly and
stared contentedly up at Draco who loomed over him, red-faced and smiling. He
didn't even realize he was crying until Draco pulled him up, off the table, and
into his arms. He practically curled around Harry and murmured words of love as
he pet Harry's hair, and Harry was filled with absolute - trust relief
gratitude lovelovelove. Without a single doubt, he knew he was safe, knew he
belonged utterly to the one holding him.
They sat like that for a long while. Until their breathing evened out and
gentled, until Harry was nearly asleep. Draco kissed his cheeks, eyes, lips,
nose. Harry smiled, eyes deep and tranquil. He reached up to brush Draco's soft
hair behind his ear.
“Yours, Draco. Yours,” he whispered.
Draco kissed him, deep and long, and as he licked along every inch of Harry's
mouth, he whispered into the boy's mind, * I love you. *
                                       …
                                    October
Remus hiked up the mountain trail quietly. Only the sound of his his shoes on
the thin, barely there path gave him away. He followed a wizard named Lysander
Fedele, who - despite his older age - was fit and moved as silently as Remus
through the forest and underbrush.
Fedele's dark hair was salted with white and contrasted sharply with his fair
skin and striking light brown eyes. His features were hard, his face square.
President Smackammer had introduced them, claiming Fedele was powerful and
exceptionally gifted at ritual magic.
Fedele was a hermit and famous for his temper, but he had obeyed the President
and agreed to perform a very rare tracking ritual that was beyond Remus or any
of the President's people. Remus didn't know for sure, but he had the sense
that the President was calling in a favor Fedele owed. Fedele certainly did not
seem to be pleased to help, no matter his agreement. Remus was eternally
grateful. As the months passed, he grew more and more anxious to find Harry.
President Smackhammer had been genuine and kept his promise. He'd put his best
people on the job of helping Remus. Unfortunately, although they were able to
pin-point Harry's location to New York City, there was something powerful
hiding Harry from view. After many tests and spells, it was decided that it
wasn't Harry himself but something near him blocking their magic. It took
weeks, but the President had a surveillance globe crafted. It searched for
Harry twenty-for hours a day and would light up the moment he was away from
whatever it was that was preventing them from finding him. So far no
opportunities had arrived. Thus, Fedele had been called in.
Now Remus was hiking through the forests of New York on Halloween night to a
magic pool where Fedele would perform a ritual that would hopefully be strong
enough to get a visual on Harry. From there, Remus and Fedele hoped to see
clues as to Harry's exact location.
Hope on top of wish on top of prayer; it was all they had.
Chapter end.
A/N:Hi! Getting excited about where this story is going.
Quick question: Once they're found, should things happen where they have to
stay in Magical America for a while or go straight back to England?
It would help me to know how much time/effort to put into Remus's experiences.
If the boys go right to England, I don't want to waste time world building
Magical America, you know?
Anyway, bye for now! Can't wait to hear from you! :P
 
***** Meeting Up *****
                                    Meet_Up
                              October 31st, 1986
It had been about a month since Draco and Harry had dropped out of public
school. In the end, Draco and Liam had agreed to Jess homeschooling them. Every
Monday through Thursday, the boys took the subway to Manhattan and met Jess in
the club. Liam almost felt bad for them. Jess was a demanding teacher, but the
boys were quickly passing their peers in spite of their late start with
schooling.
Right now though, Liam was crouched in front of a squirming Harry who sat on
the toilet seat lid getting his face painted. Draco was in the living room
already dressed and quickly finishing the extra work Jess had set him. (On top
of their homeschool assignments, Jess always gave Draco additional business
lessons that Draco could work on while Harry did chores.)
“Did you finish your homework?” Liam called from the bathroom.
“Finished!” the blond called back. “How 'bout you?”
“Finished,” Liam echoed with a grin. He pulled back from his work and nodded in
satisfaction. “You look great, Harry.”
Harry gave Liam a big hug around the neck, then he got on his knees to lean
over and look in the mirror. He had a cute black nose, whiskers, and pink lips.
Liam had also painted black around each eye, which made the green pop,
especially since he wasn't wearing his glasses. In his hair sat two large,
fuzzy black cat ears. He wore a black leotard with pawed mittens on his hands
and cat-paw slippers on his feet. A long black tail was the final touch.
Liam laughed. “Draco was right. You look absolutely adorable. It's perfect!”
Harry smiled and bounced down from the toilet to rush into the living room.
Before he entered, he crouched on all fours and crawled. He came to a stop on
his butt, hand up by his face in a cat pose. He looked up at Draco playfully,
saying, “Meooow.”
Draco looked him over seriously for a moment before breaking out into a huge
grin. “You look amazing, Harry!” he cried and bent down to hug him.
Harry happily hugged him back.
Liam came over, camera in hand. “Come on, you two. Let's get a picture and then
we'll go.”
Draco stood, grabbing something off the couch. It was a leash and collar.
Staring into those green eyes, Draco latched the thick, red collar around
Harry's neck. - happy excitement love –flowed through the bond and Draco felt
his stomach warm. He clipped the brown leather leash to the silver circle on
the collar and stood next to his boy with a smug grin.
Liam lined up the shot, grinning madly. Harry stood there with a big happy
smile, mittened paw holding onto Draco's brown leather jacket sleeve. Under the
jacket was a cotton button-up shirt. Draco's pants were a light brown khaki and
he had mountain boots on his feet. On his head was an iconic brown hat. He was
an Indiana Jones who had tamed a black panther. Liam snapped several pictures
barely holding back laughter. God, they were cute!
“Alright, let's go,” he called and headed toward the door with his excited
little brothers in tow for their very first Halloween.
He swiped two empty white pillow cases off the dinning table and ushered them
out before locking the apartment door behind him. The pumpkins they had carved
were lit and set on the street by the entrance of the apartment building. Draco
and Harry had tried their best to make them look ferocious to scare the “bad
spirits” away, as tradition dictated. They looked more silly than scary, not
that Liam would tell them that.
Draco grinned as they made their way toward the suburbs on the outskirts of the
city. Harry was just as excited, practically wiggling in the seat next to him.
They saw tons of decorations and people dressed in costumes. There was an air
of fun and playful fear. Something about it all made Draco shiver in
excitement.
Soon they were driving among houses instead of apartments and businesses. Liam
drove until he found a good place where he could parallel park. Kids of all
ages were running here and there, pillowcases clutched in their hands. Draco
tugged on the leash gently, bringing green eyes instantly to his.
“Let's go,” he said, and they hurried up to the first house.
Werewolfs, vampires, and several Alfs passed them by. Harry struck a pose at
each door, bearing his fanged front teeth and hissing while holding open his
pillow case. Draco would tug on the leash and tip his hat before opening his
own.
“Trick or Treat!”
Some people cooed over them, others laughed. While they were raking in the free
candy, Liam would chat with the other parents who were also watching over
younger kids. Candy rained down into their pillowcases so much so that they had
to stop by the car and empty them out before going to doors again. Their feet
were throbbing by the time Liam convinced them to stop. It was past midnight at
this point.
“I wanna do a haunted house!” Draco called. He'd heard some teens talking about
one a few blocks away that was 'rad'.
“It's not really the done thing for six-year-olds,” Liam advised, looking at
Draco through the rearview mirror.
Draco had become much more aware of what it meant for most people to think
kissing Harry was wrong, not to mention marking him up. The school incident had
been a wake-up call he wasn't going to forget, which was another reason he was
loving tonight so much. He was able to pull Harry along on a leash and no one
seemed to think twice. The way Harry adoringly touched both the leash and
collar made Draco tingle. He definitely would be keeping both in their room at
home. Eyeing the cute cat ears on Harry's head, he added them to the mental
list. They would keep those out, too.
“Come on, Liam!” Draco rolled his eyes. “Tonight age doesn't matter. Let's go!”
Liam sighed and reached his hand back. “Five chocolates,” he demanded. Draco
made a big deal about counting out exactly five, and Liam pulled his hand back
with a laugh, calling, “Stingy!”
The haunted house was in the home of a Halloween-crazed couple. They'd turned
the whole downstairs into a haunted house. Harry stared wide-eyed and clung to
Draco's sleeve as they waited in line. They could hear screams from inside and
scary music. The teens and young adults around them pushed each other and
laughed. The girls were talking fast and high-pitched, and the boys mostly
teased them and tried to make them squeal.
“Don't worry,” Draco reassured Harry, grinning. “It's just pretend.” He pulled
him into his side and pet his hair, careful of the ears. “Sides, even if it
weren't, it's not like me or Liam would let anythin' hurt ya.”
Harry smiled and cuddled into Draco. A mischievous idea hit him and he rose on
his toes slightly to lick Draco's cheek.
Draco laughed, so Harry did it again, this time on Draco's neck.
The blond sucked in a breath, eyes bright, but before he could retaliate, Liam
cut in. “Stop that,” he said, but he was smiling. “Come on, we're next.”
The living room was dark. A few candles and tattered black sheets hung
everywhere and over furniture. As they walked through the room, hands grabbed
at their ankles, making Harry scream, Draco laugh, and Liam curse. The kitchen
was next.
Blood was splattered across the walls, floor, and counter. It was so slippery
that they had to cling to each other or risk falling. Even Draco's heart began
to pound in his chest as a guy in a crazy clown costume jumped out of the
closet with a butcher knife and creepy as hell laugh. They practically ran into
the next room.
It was a bedroom. Draco snorted as he saw the leather straps and whips, the
chains resting at the headboard. But then the door slammed behind them and a
discreetly hidden boombox began to play a tape that had the sounds of rattling
chains and muffled screams. Draco went rigid.
Harry instantly became more alert. He crowded Draco and called, “Liam!”
Liam looked down and saw Draco's eyes go blank. “Shit!” He reached down to pick
Draco up, but shockingly Harry slapped his hand away.
“No!” Green eyes fierce, he stared Liam down. “Touching him makes it worse.”
Nodding, Liam moved quickly to the boombox and hit stop. Draco began to blink,
so that was a good sign. Still, Liam had had enough of this house. He opened
the door and called loudly, “We're done!”
Lights came on and they were met by a woman dressed as Elvira. She gave Liam a
disappointed look for bringing two little boys in, but she led them out of the
house without comment.
Draco was sweaty, shaky, and scowling by the time they got outside into the
cool night air. “I'm sorry,” he rasped, hands fisted and head bowed.
Liam tried to play it off as nothing. “It's fine. Let's head to Central Park. I
bet there're still some events open. Maybe there'll be caramel apples left.”
Draco looked up hopefully. “Okay.”
Harry smiled and cuddled into Draco's side, making the blond visibly relax.
                                       …
Panting, half-naked, and covered in sweat, Remus knelt by the pool and stared
hungrily into it. Fedele was next to him, arms outstretched, magic rising off
him like steam as he maintained the spell. Five hours of chanting, dancing,
smoke-inhalation, and a sacrificed rabbit later, Remus was ready to see Harry.
It was four in the morning, dawn only hours away, and magic saturated the air
like a heavy, wet blanket. It had to be enough; it had to.
The pool rippled before slowly becoming clear. At first, all Remus could see
was blackness, but then magical light slowly illuminated a bedroom. The room
was small, the walls bare. A thought made the view pan and he saw a dresser and
closet door. The bedroom door had locks on the inside, but they weren't
engaged. There was only one window, small with blinds and a sheer white
curtains. Through them, all he could see was the outside of a brick building a
few feet away. Breathing harshly, Remus stared as the view snapped back to the
bed.
It was the only decadent thing in the room. The sheets were a deep luxurious
green that had a shimmer that indicated at least some percent silk. The white
comforter was fluffy and looked soft. The pillows were thick and new. Remus
felt sick imagining what had happened to the boys on that bed. They were
children, practically babies.
Harry was curled on his right side, blankets pooled at his waist, naked. He
looked thin and there were a scattering of bruises – some old and faded, others
newer – along his arm and chest. His right hand was resting on the chest of
another child, his left hand curled up by his face. His black, messy hair
splayed around his head, which was at least a foot away from the nearest
pillow. Black cat ears could just be seen among the fluffy mess. A red collar
sat snug against his slender throat. Remus swallowed a growl.
His gaze shifted to the second child who was also naked. He had to be around
Harry's age. He lay on his back, the blankets resting on his thighs, exposing
him to Remus's eyes, and Remus had no doubt the child needed rescuing, too.
A dozen scars lay scattered on the boy's pale chest. Even worse scarring lay on
what Remus could see of the boy's thighs. The marks ranged from small punctures
to thick ropy scars and varied in color from red to purple to silvery white,
creating a map of pain and torture. There was even some scarring on the boy's
small penis.
He was higher up on the bed than Harry, his head resting on a pillow. His right
arm was out flung with Harry curled up beneath it. His left was down against
his side, limp with sleep. His mouth was parted slightly as he slept soundly.
Unlike Harry's wild tangle, his hair was sleek and straight, a pale platinum
blond. It looked like it was cut at about chin-length. Also different from
Harry, there was no collar.
Tears fell down Remus's face. He'd been bitten around the same age: five years
old. It was wrong on so many levels to be locked up and afraid at such a young
age, to be so intimate with pain that it became a part of daily life. More than
anything, he wanted to reach into the pool and scoop out both boys, and he had
to wrap his arms tightly around his chest to prevent his hands from disturbing
the water.
“Lupin. I can't hold it. Hurry the hell up,” Fedele snarled. His arms began to
tremble as sweat drenched his skin.
Heart pounding, Remus cleared his throat. “Harry. Harry, can you hear me?”
“Lupin!” Fedele gasped
Remus raised his voice in a desperate shout. “Harry!”
The boy curled up more tightly for a moment before he opened shockingly green
eyes, eyes that turned and looked right at him. Joy sang through Remus. He
wanted to throw his head back and howl. Harry! He'd found Harry! But he had to
be fast if he wanted to keep him.
“Harry! Where are you? You have to tell me quickly, Harry. Hurry!”
The dark-haired boy sat up, breath coming quicker as he continued to stare into
Remus's eyes. A second later, the blond boy was pulling Harry into his side in
a gesture of protection and comfort. There was a maturity and fierceness in
those silver eyes that didn't belong in the face of a child. Remus felt
something inside him stir under that look, something he couldn't quite name,
but whatever it was had his whole attention locking onto the blond.
“What'd'ya want? Who are you?” the little boy demanded, dark and low. His eyes
scanned the room, unable see Remus as Harry could. That made sense, though,
since the ritual had been keyed to Harry.
The water began to ripple, the room became distorted. Fedele sank to his knees
with a moan of pain.
“I'm from the magical world. I've been trying to find you, but something keeps
stopping me. I need you to tell me where you are. You'll be protected and safe,
both of you, I swear it on my life!” he begged desperately.
“Central Park Zoo. One week. The Tropic Zone,” the boy called out just as the
water began to boil and the window was lost.
Remus cried out and instinctively reached forward, only to yelp as his hand was
scalded by the boiling water. Fedele collapsed sideways, completely
unconscious. Holding his injured hand close to his chest, Remus hurried to his
side. His heart pounded. A week. He'd get to see Harry in a week. But as happy
as that made him, he was also deeply disturbed.
The blond child was magical, no doubt about it. He wouldn't have been able to
hear Remus if he weren't. What were the odds that Harry would be kept with a
second magical child? That meant one of two things to Remus's way of thinking.
One: the Muggles knew what they had and were searching purposefully for magical
children. (The M.C.N.A. was going to just love that.) Or two: some sick wizard
was collecting magical children for his own twisted purposes. Either scenario
was chilling.
He had to report to President Smackhammer immediately. The meet up at the zoo
had to be carefully planned. No matter what else happened there, Remus was
determined to walk away with Harry in his custody.
                                       …
                                 November 1st
Liam sat back in his chair at the dinning table and crossed his arms over his
chest. “You're telling me some weird voice talked to you out of thin air last
night?”
Harry nodded his head vigorously, sending his hair flopping around. He had his
glasses on and the cat ears off, but the red collar still sat around his
throat. “I thought it was a Halloween ghost come to get us! The air got
shimmery and this weird light filled the room. I could see a guy leaning over
trying to talk to me. He wanted to know where I was. He looked kinda sad
actually. I think he'd been crying.”
Draco was frowning down at his plate. He hadn't touched his breakfast. “I
couldn't see anything different. The room was dark as always, but I could hear
'em. It sounded as if he were talking from far away, like on a phone, but even
further than that. He sounded like it was really important. Said he was from a
Magic World, and he'd been tryin' ta find us, but something was gettin' in his
way. He promised we'd be safe.”
Liam snorted. Harry was the only one at the table naïve enough to fall for a
line like that. “And you're sure it wasn't just a dream?”
Draco looked up at him with as much attitude as a six-year-old could possess.
Liam raised his hands. “Okay, okay. I was just asking.” He looked to Harry. “So
what'd he look like?”
“He had short hair a sandy color, but it was wavy like this.” Harry
demonstrated around his head. “And he had a scar across his face here.” His
fingers drew a line across his nose and cheeks. “He had gold-brown eyes and . .
. ” Harry's excitement suddenly evaporated, his eyes dimmed. “He talked . . .
He talked like my Aunt and Uncle.”
Liam shot Draco a worried look, but he shouldn't have bothered. The blond was
already on top of it.
Draco hooked a finger through the metal ring on the collar and pulled Harry out
of his chair, forcing the boy to stand next to him. “Doesn't matter what he
talks like,” he said firmly. “You're never goin' back ta those people because
you're mine now. Sides, they weren't magic like you, so this ghost isn't with
'em, kay?”
Harry nodded and turned his head so he could nuzzle his nose against Draco's
cheek.
Liam melted at the cute sight, but it wasn't enough to distract him from his
main concern. “I don't understand why you agreed to meet with this ghost guy.”
Draco frowned, brows lowered in worry. “Just wann'ed ta keep the option open.
We have a week ta decide to go or not, but if he can open a connection like
that once, he can do it again. Might as well figure out what he wants and take
control of the how and when we meet. Not ta mention he obviously knows magic.
He might know stuff we need ta know.”
Liam really didn't like any of this. He'd kind of accepted the fact that Draco
and Harry could do things, but he'd gotten comfortable with that knowledge kept
in the shadows. Now it was back with a vengeance. Voices talking out of thin
air, a crying, glowy guy... Liam shivered. It was madness. “So what's the
plan?”
Draco shrugged. “Same plan as before. Only reason I haven't gone lookin' for
information 'fore now is 'cause we had'ta learn ta read better and get settled
in here.”
He shot Liam a meaningful glance, and it made Liam shift uncomfortably on his
chair. He knew Draco had also put off figuring out their powers partially
because it made Liam uncomfortable.
“We need ta go ta the library and see if we can find anythin' about magic that
can help us.” Draco's frown deepened. “Only thing is, if this ghost guy is
really lookin' for us, he might be watchin' for that.”
Liam swallowed, but he lifted his chin. He wasn't a coward. “I'll go alone.
Check out some books. If they're not helpful, I'll take 'em back and get new
ones.”
Draco smiled. “Thanks, Liam. I'll call Drey. I want her to follow you, just in
case ya need help.”
Liam scowled. “I can take care of myself, Draco.”
“Just in case,” Draco repeated, unmoving. He stared into Liam's eyes, waiting
to see if he'd keep arguing.
Liam rolled his eyes, knowing it was a lost cause. “Fine.”
“We're still not great at reading. They'll be lots of words we don't
understand,” Draco continued. “So we'll need help with that as well.”
Liam sighed and sank further in his chair. “I hate reading.” Draco flashed him
a glare and he forced himself to perk up. “But it sounds interesting,” he lied
with a forced grin.
Harry looked from Liam's face to Draco's. “I'll help! I'll try really hard!” he
promised.
Draco ruffled his hair. “I know ya will. You read better than me, so I'm
countin' on ya.”
Harry nodded, his expression determined.
                                       …
                                 November 6th
Draco tossed his book across the room. With a groan, he flopped down on the
couch with an arm flung across his eyes. “It's all so stupid! And none of 'em
agree on anythin'.”
Harry hummed from his place on the floor. He was on his stomach reading a book
on Spiritualism, his legs kicking softly in the air.
“Now what?” Liam asked. He was sprawled on the other end of the couch, and he
was slouched down so far he almost slipped off.
“Drey's sure someone was watchin' ya even though she couldn't see anyone?”
Draco asked, not moving.
Liam shrugged. “She says so.” He glanced at the blond. “For the record, I'm
against going tomorrow.”
“Noted.” Draco let his arm slide off his face and looked toward Harry. “What do
you think?”
The head of messy hair lifted and green eyes peered at him through his black-
framed glasses. “Um.” His brow scrunched in thought. “I think you want to go.”
“Not what I asked,” Draco sing-songed, smiling.
Harry's head tilted cutely to the side. “I think...” Looking down at the book,
he shut it and sat up on his knees. “I think... We haveta.”
Draco nodded. He sat up as well. “That's settled then.”
Liam sighed and slid off the couch seat to sit bonelessly on the floor. The
boys giggled. Sharing a glance, they jumped on the man and tickled him
mercilessly.
                                       …
                                 November 7th
Remus fidgeted with the end of his shirt as he waited. The boy hadn't said a
time to meet, just where, so he'd been at the zoo since it opened. The dark,
cave-like room was not very crowded. It wasn't the most popular attraction, so
it was a good meeting spot. He was impressed with the boy for thinking of it.
However, the longer he waited, the more dejected he became. Maybe the kids
weren't coming? The boy had said a week, but did he know how long that was?
Maybe it was an estimate. How long would President Smackhammer support him if
Remus sat at the zoo for days on-end?
Their was a slight change in the room. He didn't know what, but he lifted his
head and noticed there were no more people. It was empty except for him and a
young boy. Remus's heart dropped into his stomach as he recognized the blond
from the scrying pool. How long had he been there? He looked around quickly,
but there was no Harry. Heart beating hard and fast, Remus wondered what that
meant. Was Harry hurt? Dead? Missing?
The blond turned so that he was no longer standing sideways to Remus and
staring into a snake tank. The boy faced him head-on and began to walk over.
Remus, inexplicably, sat frozen.
The boy looked well-enough. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and sneakers.
His silky, blond hair was clean and hooked behind his ears. The horrific scars
were covered, so he looked like a normal kid. Except for the eyes. They were so
still, unblinking and pinned on Remus's. The solid, unwavering eye contact made
Remus sweat, and he glanced away several times before the boy came to a stop a
few feet from where Remus sat on a bench against the wall.
“Who are you? What do you want?” the boy asked quietly, voice steady.
Remus cleared his throat and forced himself to meet that steely gaze. “My name
is Remus Lupin. I'm a wizard. Like you and Harry.” At the mention of his cub,
Remus felt his fists clench. “Where is Harry? Is he well?”
The boy tilted his head, visibly considering Remus's words. “Yeah. He's safe.
Why ya wanna know?”
“Harry... He's special. I was very good friends with his parents. When they
died, he was placed with his mother's family. Last November, he disappeared.
The family told us he was sent to a school, but he didn't come back for summer.
I've been looking for him ever since. Can you tell me where he is?”
The boy shook his head firmly. A resounding no. “Not yet. Don't know if you're
safe. What'd'you want ta do with him if you find him?”
“I want to bring him home,” Remus answered honestly. “To the magical world
where he should have been from the beginning. Where he'll be safe and loved.
Where he'll learn all about magic.”
The boy looked unmoved by his story, his expression perfectly blank like a
doll's. It was chilling. “What's the magical world?”
Remus twisted his shirt hem. “There are lots of people without magic and then a
few with magic. The people with magic live in secret, away from people without.
We've created towns and areas that are just for magical people. It's a wondrous
place. A place you belong as well. Please, let's get Harry and go away from
here. Let me help you.”
The child began to smile. It wasn't a happy expression. It was cold and brutal.
“Thing is, Remus. You're too late.”
Remus felt his heart stop and his eyes go wide with terror.
The boy sighed and dropped the scary smile. “Look. I just mean you're too late
to save us. We already got away from all that. We escaped, and now we've found
someone. He's our family now. We can't just leave. Sides, I don't have any way
ta know if you're tellin' the truth. I don't know anythin' about magic really.
Only what me and Harry can do with it. You could do anythin' to us. Do ya
understand where I'm coming from?”
Deeply relieved, Remus straightened his stance. “I can only imagine the horrors
you and Harry have experienced. If what you say is true, I'm happy you got
away, but the fact remains: You and Harry are magical. It is not allowed for
magical children to be with a normal family in America. If you don't come now
and help us get Harry, the government will track you both down and take you by
force. It seems scary, going to a new place, but it's where you belong.
Honestly it is. It's the only place you can truly grow into who you really are.
And you'll be safer there. There are dangers to magical people that you don't
know. Without the magical community around you, you'll be terribly vulnerable.
It is possible you will end up slaves again or dead. It's only a matter of
time, do you understand?”
Instead of denials and anger as Remus expected, the boy considered his words
quietly for a few minutes, eyes down and arms crossed over his chest. When he
looked up, his expression was blank once more. “Let me get this straight.
Somethin' out there captures or kills magical people. Without magical people to
help, we could get really hurt.”
Remus nodded. “Yes.”
“But ya aren't just here tryin' ta help magical children. You're here for
Harry.”
“I'm glad it led us to discover you as well, so we can keep you safe, but yes.
I'm here for Harry.”
“Because you were a friend ta his parents, and because he's special.”
“Yes,” Remus agreed.
“You said it's illegal for magical kids to be with a normal family in America.
But that's where Harry was. With normal people. So he's not from America.”
Remus was floored. The kid was brilliant. “Yes,” he said again. “Harry and I
are from England.”
The boy frowned. “So ya want ta take him home. What about me?”
Remus shifted. “I don't know for sure. You're an American.”
Those grey eyes went silver. “Here's the thing, Remus. Me and Harry, we're not
gonna be separated. We're connected now. We're not gonna go with anyone who
doesn't respect that.”
Remus was sweating again. He had no idea what it was. The boy was just a little
kid, six years old if that, but he believed the boy completely. “Connected
how?”
“Here.” The kid tapped the side of his head. “I saved him. I got him outta
there. It's my job ta look out for Harry now. I'll always look out for Harry.
No matter what.” Those silver eyes pinned Remus in place.
“Okay,” Remus said carefully, swallowing. “We're a magical people. We respect
things like that. You'll probably end up coming home with Harry, then.”
The boy's eyes were still silver. “And our brother? The guy who took us in? Who
gave us a place to live and looked after us? What about him?”
Remus wanted to reach out. Touch the boy's shoulder. Comfort him. “I'm sorry.
Truly I am. I will forever be grateful to him if what you say is true, but
America's policy is inflexible. You cannot stay with him and he cannot come
with you. He will either be spelled to believe you died or something else. They
will make sure he does not even think to look for you or try and get the normal
people to look for you.” A flash of genuine pain crossed the child's face and
it about broke Remus's heart. “If you cooperate, I can promise that the man
will be treated with better care.”
Voice hoarse, the kid glared and said, “A lot of threats with those promises,
Remus. Not sure I like that.”
“I'm sorry,” Remus told him sincerely.
The boy's expression hardened. “Alright. Ya told me what I needed ta know. I'll
think about it an' get back to ya. Meet again in a week. Same place.”
It was Remus's turn to shake his head. “No. You're not safe. I told you. It's
not allowed for a magical child to be unprotected with normals. You'll come
with me now, and then we'll go get Harry.”
The creepy smile was back. “Don't push it. Don't trust ya, but I like ya okay.
I'll see you next week with my decision.”
Remus had no other choice. He clicked the pen he had in his hand. The pressure
in the room changed as the three Aurors that surrounded the building erected a
magical barrier. Instead of being scared or oblivious of the change, the blond
grinned, all teeth and threat. He turned and ran.
Remus stood to go after him, but stopped short. Dozens of snakes, big and
small, surrounded him. Remus's stood with mouth hanging open as the boy
disappeared down a hallway. It didn't matter. Sighing quietly, he took out his
wand and shielded himself as he began to banish the snakes back to the tanks
one-by-one. The boy wouldn't be able to escape. It was impossible. And once he
was captured, he'd either tell them where Harry was or he'd be spelled to
reveal the location. It was regrettable but necessary.
I'll make sure they don't hurt you,Remus promised himself. I'll help as much as
I can. For Harry.
                                       …
Draco shoved everything aside and pressed at what should have been empty space
in the window.
It was small and not meant to be open, but he and Liam had jimmied it yesterday
while Harry had talked to the snakes. There should be no reason he couldn't
crawl through the small open space now, but his hands were pressed flat against
something slightly curved and as immobile as glass.
Closing his eyes, he fell inside, pulling from his gut the power that had
protected him forever. Harry, have to protect Harry...
The power ignited, cold and spiraling, deep in his core. Draco opened his eyes
and pressed.
He could melt metal. He could kill a man in seconds. He was death. He was
poison. Magic would be no different. He'd kill it and escape. The alternative
was unacceptable. Sweating, teeth bared in a grimace, Draco pushed with
everything he had, muscle and magic both. Just when he was about to gasp and
relent, he felt the barrier crack. Draco gave a choked cry and shoved harder.
He toppled through the window, hanging half-in, half-out. He didn't wait to
catch his breath. He scrambled outside into freedom.
Chapter end.
A/N:Whew! Really struggled with this one. Wasn't sure what POV to write from.
Then wasn't sure how I wanted Remus to interact with Draco. Hope you guys like
it!
 
***** Perspective *****
A/N:Sorry this is short and late! Regular long updates from now on.
                                  Perspective
                                 November 7th
“What the hell, Draco!” Liam cried as the kid practically collapsed in his
arms.
He and Harry were deep in the woods of Central Park, a good twenty minute walk
from the zoo. Draco had been gone for nearly two and a half hours, and Liam was
about ready to go in there after the blond when Draco had suddenly appeared,
staggering and breathing hard. His face was pale and he was drenched in sweat
despite it being a cool seventy-five degrees.
But Draco couldn't even explain what had happened because he couldn't talk; he
was panting too hard to speak. Liam sank to his knees, letting Draco lean
against him as he struggled to catch his breath. Harry pressed close to Draco's
other side, and he began to kiss up Draco's neck and across his jaw. Liam's
eyes went wide as Harry slid his lips across the blond's. Draco reached up to
hold Harry's head in place, deepening the kiss.
“Guys, come on,” Liam muttered as they made out, basically in his lap.
The boys ignored him.
As their tongues pressed in and out of each other's mouths, Liam couldn't help
but notice how Draco's skin began to flush a healthy color, his sweat dried,
and his breathing evened out. Harry pulled away after only a few minutes. His
face was red and his lips were shinny, but he looked well enough. As for Draco,
the kid looked completely refreshed. Like a second ago he hadn't looked like
he'd run a mile in the summer heat and was about to keel over.
“What the hell happened?” Liam demanded again as Draco sat up and pulled away.
For his own sanity, he chose to pretend the weird make-out session hadn't
happened.
Draco related what happened at the zoo. He carefully left out the part about
Liam being made to forget them or think they were dead. That was something
Draco would have to think about. He leaned against Harry's shoulder for comfort
and wrapped an arm around the smaller boy. Harry was calm – curious trust peace
– but Liam was furious.
“That asshole!” Liam jumped to his feet and glared in the direction of the zoo,
his blue eyes spitting fire. “He put that shield thing up to trap you in
there!”
Draco shrugged. “Might not be him. He was busy dealin' wiv the snakes. There
might 'ave been another person hidin' somewhere else.” He smiled into Harry's
surprised eyes. Leaning forward, Draco gently touch their noses. Liam held his
breath, worried they were going to make out again, but all Draco said was,
“Good job, Harry. They were perfect.”
Harry blushed and ducked his head.
Draco give him a quick hug before turning back to Liam. “I'm just a kid,” he
said and fell back so that he was lying on the ground, arms and legs spread as
if he were getting ready to make a dirt angel. “People always think they know
better than kids, so it's not weird he didn't listen to me. 'Sides, he thinks
there's somethin' out here that attacks magical kids.” His grey eyes found
Liam's and a sly smile touched his lips. “But I think I could get to 'em if I
had long enough.” Draco yawned, his eyes falling closed. “It's not like I
trusted 'em so it's not a betrayal. We knew they weren't gonna let me go easy.
That's why you and Harry didn't come wiv me. Nothin' to be mad at.”
Liam snorted. He was still pissed, but it was clear that Draco needed to
recover from breaking the shield thing. He would have to convince Draco how
horrible these magic people were another time. For now, he bent down and
scooped the boy into his arms.
Draco slid his arms around Liam's neck and lay his head comfortably on his
shoulder.
Liam was a little surprised the blond was letting him carry him, but it also
filled him with a surge of protective love. Glancing down, he caught Harry's
eyes. “Let's go.”
The little boy nodded and hooked his small fingers in Liam's belt loop. He
looked up at Liam with a sweet smile that about melted Liam's heart. Walking
slowly, they made their way out of the woods and to the car.
                                       …
Remus arrived in the Ministry's medical wing with the three unconscious Aurors.
Healers immediately swarmed around them. The portkey had been created so that
he could get the children to medical help right away if they needed it. He
hadn't expected to need it for the Aurors. He took a seat in the waiting area
and sipped at the cold water he was given, lost in thought.
“What happened, Mr. Lupin?” President Smackhammer demanded. He stood in front
of Remus, eyes fierce with his long sleek hair hanging around his shoulders and
down his chest.
Remus noticed there was a wide space around them so that they wouldn't be
overheard. Straightening his back, he related events as precisely as he could.
As he spoke, he realized he never got the boy's name and it felt really weird.
The boy had been in control of that entire conversation and Remus hadn't even
noticed.
“You had to banish the snakes back to the tanks,” President Smackhammer
repeated stonily.
Remus swallowed. “Yes. I found holes cut in the glass. They were definitely
real snakes from the exhibit and not conjured ones.”
Black eyes bore into him. “You are suggesting Parseltongue.”
Remus looked away, nodding once.
“Have no fear, Mr. Lupin,” the President's voice reached him. It had softened.
“We do not see animal speak in the same light as the magical communities in
other countries. We embrace a more naturalistic connection to magic here, and
that includes connections to animals that the other countries have eschewed as
savage and base. We will not vilify a child so gifted, but it does you credit
that you are already protective of the child even though he is not the one you
seek.”
Remus flushed, suddenly ashamed that his sole concern had been Harry up to this
point.
“You felt the barrier shatter,” Smackhammer repeated, needing confirmation and
getting the conversation back on track.
Remus nodded. “I didn't see what happened because I was banishing the snakes,
but yes. That's what it felt like. And then I found the Aurors lying on the
ground. They didn't respond when I tried to wake them, so I brought them here
with the portkey. How are they?”
Smackhammer sighed and took the seat next to Remus. “They will be fine. The
healers have informed me they suffered sever backlash when their spell was
destroyed. Their working wasn't merely broken but dissolved. It created some
kind of rubber-band effect that rendered them unconscious. Rest will set them
right.”
“Do you think the boy did that?” Remus asked quietly. “Or do you think someone
else provided him with some kind of spelled item so that he could return?”
Smackhammer looked him in the eye solemnly. “You tell me. Do you think the boy
is capable of that kind of magic?”
Remus looked over to see the Aurors lying on the medical beds, healers tending
to them. “Yes, actually. I do. He was remarkably intelligent and self-
possessed. I believe he could do this. He was too surprised and unfamiliar with
magic and the magical world to have an acquaintance who could provide him with
something that powerful.”
“Then we will continue on that assumption.” Smackhammer stood and looked down
at him. “The boy is extraordinarily gifted. In fact, it is likely he who is
unconsciously shielding their location. After all, they were slaves and he
undoubtedly does not want to be found by whoever had kept them in captivity.
That powerful wish could trigger unconscious magic... But I've never heard of
unconscious magic powerful enough that even your top magicians could not break
it... And now a Parseltongue...” The President stared out blindly. “I will tell
you a secret, Remus. My diviners say that this boy... He will be at the center
of a nexus of power that will either be used to work salvation or destruction
on the world.”
Pale as a ghost, Remus rasped, “A prophecy?”
Smackhammer turned and his eyes came into focuse once more. He stared down at
Remus solemnly before slowly nodding. “I cannot reveal to you the exact
wording. Forgive me.” Then the President turned and began to walk away, saying
as he left, “I am more concerned that his power makes them a target. I fear the
children are running out of time.”
Remus didn't say anything as Smackhammer took his leave. He felt cold to his
core and wrapped his arms around his chest. He wanted to take the boys and run
back to England as fast as he could. This country was beautiful and the magic
was exotic, but he didn't like the thought of the Scourers. They were the ones
Smackhammer was worried about.
It had been explained to him that the Scourers were a vicious group of
assassins who hunted down and murdered magical people since the time of the
Salem witch trials in the seventeen hundreds. They were reverse Death Eaters
and hated magic and magical people with a fierce, unreasoning hatred. Invisible
until they struck, they were scattered throughout the United States and were a
danger to any wizard – especially children – who were unprotected in the Muggle
world. This was another reason for the strict Secrecy Laws. They were in hiding
from this brutal Muggle group.
Remus bowed his head over his folded hands and prayed Magic would keep both the
blond child and Harry safe.
                                       …
Draco woke up to morning sunlight falling through their bedroom window. It was
quiet, the sounds of traffic a soft background hum. The tv wasn't on in the
living room. Liam was either still asleep or had gone out. Turning on his side,
he smiled as he looked into Harry's sleeping face. Gently, he stroked his
fingers down Harry's scarred forehead, down his nose, and over his lips in a
slow petting motion, but his thoughts were filled with Remus.
The man was just as Harry had described: short, sandy hair - golden, pale brown
eyes - scars. Draco had seen a lot of people in his life and had learned to
read them very well. A mistake in Draco's world had led to level of agony and
suffering most would never know, so he had gotten very good at reading people.
This man had a sense of pain around him. His voice was gentle and warm. This
was not a man who would resort to violence if he had the choice, and Draco felt
calmed by his presence. He also believed the man spoke the truth. Sighing,
Draco leaned forward to press his forehead gently against Harry's and closed
his eyes.
The world was never going to do them favors. Life was a battle. Always had
been, always would be. That hadn't changed just because they weren't slaves
anymore. School had been a fight. Getting healthy was a fight. Learning was a
fight: Reading, math, history, science – it was an unbeatable game; always new
things to learn. But those battles had been almost comforting compared to the
ones in the Hold or with his first abductor. This, though, Remus Lupin, the
magical world, it was the Hold all over again, their lives on the line.
Harry stirred. Draco kept his eyes closed, but he couldn't help smiling when
Harry's soft lips pressed questioningly against his own. Draco pulled Harry
more firmly into his arms and began to kiss him. Slow, thorough, Draco moved
his tongue in languid swipes along the roof of Harry's mouth and across his
tongue. Harry was warm and limp in his arms – love pleasure happy.
Once they were both breathless and flushed, Draco pulled away enough to speak.
They were lying on their sides, faces inches apart, and he kept his arm around
Harry's waist. “I need ta talk to you.”
Harry blinked sleepily, a contented smile curling his pink lips.
Draco hated to take that away from him, but they had to talk, now while Liam
wasn't with them. “Harry, I don't think we can stay with Liam.”
Green eyes went wide and filled with tears - worry sadness - “But why can't
we?”
Draco sighed and began to pet Harry's messy hair. “Remus was serious 'bout
somethin' dangerous hunting us. He's convinced if we don't go with him, we'll
be killed or captured. I've never felt anything like that wall he made. We
don't know what else is possible. The truth is we just don't know enough about
magic. We might not be safe on our own.”
Harry pressed forward and buried his head against Draco's neck – sadness trust.
“Sides,” Draco said, holding Harry tightly as his own eyes filled with tears.
“If there's somethin' out there gunnin' for us, Harry, we don't wanna put Liam
in danger. He can't protect himself like we can.” He kissed Harry's hair. “I'll
find out more about the threat and then we can see about Liam, but don't forget
Remus said you're from England. That's why you talk funny. Remus wants to take
us back there. I'm pretty sure it's really, really far away, and Liam doesn't
want to leave New York. So either way, it's not lookin' like we can stay,
Harry.”
Harry nodded, but he was crying.
Draco closed his eyes and just held him close. He didn't want to leave Liam
either, but facts were facts. He'd do his best to keep Liam with them, but he
wanted Harry to be prepared. Draco's main priority was keeping Harry and Liam
safe. If that meant separating, then that was what they'd do. It sucked, but
when had life ever not sucked? Grey eyes gone silver, he stared over Harry's
head as Harry cried.
Life was a war, and Draco had every intention of winning.
No matter the cost.
Chapter end.
A/N:What are the odds of them working something out so that Liam isn't lost to
them? (sigh)






 
***** Decisions *****
                                   Decisions
                                  August 14th
Remus had his orders. He was to capture the blond child no matter the cost. The
Head Auror's suggestion still rang in his ears; “Stupify on sight.” What if the
boy didn't show up at the zoo? What if the shield had spooked him and now he
didn't trust Remus? Worse, what if the Scourers had found them? What if the boy
and Harry were both dead right now and Remus didn't even know it?
He was sweating by the time he hit the Tropic Zone, and he reached up to adjust
the collar on the white button-down shirt that he wore tucked into jeans. It
was uncomfortably damp with sweat, but that was easily forgotten as he looked
around for the boy. About half a dozen people were scattered throughout the
room. He looked closely, but there were no blond children.
Habit brought him to the same bench he'd sat on last week. He'd been sitting
there for three hours when he heard something hit the ground under him. He
leaned down and saw, under his bench, a white envelope. Heart in his throat, he
reached for it and picked it up. It'd been taped under the seat until gravity
had finally pulled it off. Remus opened the envelope and pulled out the letter
from inside:
“Remus I still have things I want to talk about befor I leev every thing
behind. I'm going to trust you. Please come here alone. We will talk and then
we will see. You know we wer slaves. I don't want to be a slave ever agan. I
want it to be a choys.”
Remus memorized the address and quickly tore the letter up and then set fire to
the remains just in case. The childish handwriting had touched a deep cord in
him, and the trust in the letter made him responsible – not the Aurors or even
the President. He was not going to take a child so abused and 'stupify on
sight'. The child wasn't some criminal! He refused to treat him that way when
the child up to this point had only been reasonably hesitant and surprisingly
rational.
Eyes gone gold, Remus rose from the bench and sprinted from the room. He had a
few Aurors to shake, but he would arrive at the address alone. He'd be sure of
it.
                                       …
Harry sat unhappily at a table in the lobby of a movie theater. He looked over
at Draco and the blond smiled and brushed his fingers across Harry's cheek.
Tears burned Harry's eyes. He loved Draco so much, and he felt so bad because
of his freak curse. Brendon was his fault, now Liam was going to be gone, too.
He was causing Draco so much trouble.
* Harry. *
The word resonated with warning and love both, and Harry ducked his head and
took a sip of his soda. He didn't want to think about it, his curse. It made
Draco mad, but he couldn't stop. They'd spent the last week with Liam doing
special things, like picnics and late night tv and going to the park. Draco was
trying to say goodbye. They'd left this morning, Draco promising they weren't
going to the zoo, just catching a movie. Harry had had to look away, which
forced Draco to lie further and say Harry was sick so that Liam wouldn't get
suspicious.
- sad unhappy guilt -
“Harry,” Draco said firmly and pinched the back of Harry's hand painfully hard.
“Do you wanna go see a movie while I meet Remus?”
Harry shook his head hard. “No, Draco. Sorry.”
Draco sighed and pet his hand where it began to bruise. “It'll be okay, Harry.
Promise. Trust me. I'll take care of ya.”
Harry knew that. Knew it utterly. But he was worried about the cost to Draco,
to Liam, to everyone around him. He had a feeling that it was only going to get
worse and worse. He was going to pull everyone down, make everyone suffer...
“Harry!”
His head snapped up. He realized he was bleeding, having bitten through his own
lip. Draco's eyes were silver and he looked furious. Harry gasped, horrified
that he'd upset Draco so much, and all his fears spilled out. The moment
Draco's eyes softened back to grey, Harry burst into tears. Helplessly, he
covered his face, sobbing.
He felt Draco's arm go around him, the blond now standing next to his chair. He
held Harry tight, so that he felt safe and impossibly loved. Draco's cheek
rested on his head and Harry felt soft lips brush his forehead.
* Thought you didn't trust me, *Draco's voice spoke into his mind.* It scared
me. Love you so much, Harry. You make me happier than I ever was without you.
You're the only one... The only one! … To love me more than anything else in
the world. Did you know that? I'm yours as much as you're mine. You'reNOTmy
curse, Harry. All these bad things were here before you and will be after you.
For me, you are theonlygood. *
Harry cried harder –joy hope– streaking through his heart. He closed his eyes
tight and turned so that he had his arms around Draco's waist. He'd never
thought about it that way. Draco was his. It felt like sunbeams were breaking
through the cracks of his heart. Draco was his. Draco needed him. Harry laughed
in between sobs and clung even tighter- love joy.
Next to them someone cleared their throat. Draco went tense in his arms before
pulling away. Harry looked up through his bangs and fogged glasses to see a
blurry figure standing close. Another worker asking questions? (Where's your
parents? How old are you?)
“Are ya alone this time?” he heard Draco ask.
Harry pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his red sweater. He also wiped
his face with his sleeve. Harry slid his glasses back on and looked up,
blinking. Remus was staring at him. He had tears in his eyes and a weird
expression on his face. Harry flushed red and looked away, down at the white
table top and the brown tiles on the floor.
“Yes,” Remus spoke with a voice hoarse with emotion.
“Sit,” Draco ordered. He still stood next to Harry's chair, close enough that
Harry's shoulder brushed his arm. Harry smiled a little; he liked that.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Remus sit down across from him. The man put
his hands on the table and linked his fingers. Harry could hear him swallow.
His fingers were slender, but they were rough with healing cuts and strange
callouses.
“Harry, you look so much like your father.”
Harry peered at Remus's face through his dark bangs. The man was smiling as
tears dampened his cheeks. Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and Harry
looked up at him, but the blond was watching Remus.
“If you loved 'em so much, where were ya when they died? Why didn't you help
Harry?”
Harry followed Draco's eyes to see Remus's hands clench and face go pale.
“I... I was not in the country at the time of their death. Even if I had
been... I was not allowed to take care of Harry...”
“But nothin' would'a stopped you from visitin' or watchin',” Draco pressed. His
blank expression had grown curious. “From makin' sure he was okay and not
livin' in a cupboard under the stairs or treated like a monster, starved and
mistreated.”
Remus looked terribly ill. His shaking hands were pulled back into his lap, out
of sight. Harry didn't like how terribly sad he was. He looked like he cried
often. “I...” Remus met Draco's eyes for a minute and then caught and held
Harry's. “I cannot excuse my absence. I was grieving the devastating loss of my
dearest friends, my family. I did not feel I was in any state to be near a
child. There were also other reasons. Harry's location was secret for his
safety. It would not have been an easy thing to see him.” His eyes shifted back
to Draco. “But I could have made the effort. That is a guilt I must bear.”
“How... How'd they die?” Harry was surprised the question was in his voice. He
glanced up at Draco with large eyes, but Draco was still looking at Remus, so
it must be okay. He looked back at Remus for the answer, but the man sat
silent.
“Harry asked you a question,” Draco said pointedly and Harry felt like melting.
He loved Draco so much.
“They died very unfortunately,” Remus finally answered, looking down at the
table top. “More than that, I fear it is too much for you to know.”
“It's too late for that, Remus,” Draco said gently as he ran a hand through
Harry's hair, soothing him. “We need ta know these things before we go with you
to this magic world. I will have a say in the decisions, so I need the facts ta
make good ones.”
Remus sighed. One of his hands returned to the table. When he spoke, his voice
was low, reluctant, but he looked up to meet their eyes. “There was a dark
wizard... He wanted to rule the magical world, but good people fought him in
secret. Harry's parents were a part of that group. They were heroes... One
night... He came and murdered them both... But when he went to kill Harry,
strange magic happened and the dark wizard disappeared... The war was won.”
Remus folded both hands on the table. His face softened with a small smile.
“Harry is very famous in the magical world. That scar on his head is known to
all. Everyone thinks him a hero and were very, very grateful...” The smile
disappeared and Harry's stomach dropped as Remus's voice grew dark. “But there
were still bad wizards who were angry that the dark wizard was gone, so Harry
was hidden away with his only family, hidden in the Muggle world, away from the
magical one, to keep him safe.”
Harry looked up at Draco, heart pounding. He had no idea what to think. He'd
thought his parents were drunks killed in a car crash. He had no idea why he'd
asked except he still wished it wasn't true. This new story was not as mean,
but it was still so sad. And scary.
Draco bowed his head slightly and said, “Thank you for telling us.”
Remus sighed again, eyes a sorrow-filled amber. “Harry's fame is such that it
could not really have been hidden. I just wish I could spare you both.”
“You'll have chances ta help us,” Draco reassured. “But not by keeping stuff
from me. That'll never help.” He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and
squeezed gently in a quick hug. “One way is ta help me think of a way we can
make sure no one'll try and split Harry and me up.”
Harry's head whipped around to Remus, eyes wide. His hand unconsciously took
hold of Draco's black sweater and held on tightly.
Remus gave Harry a gentle smile. “Don't worry. I think we can arrange to keep
your friend with you.” He turned that smile to Draco. “It's about time you
introduced yourself, don't you? I still don't know your name.”
Draco smiled back, polite, guarded. “Draco Black.”
Remus frowned. “Draco... Black...” He shook his head slightly. “Odd name.” He
looked to Harry again. “May I ask why you still wear a collar even though Draco
said you've escaped?”
Harry blushed and lifted his fingers to the red collar that still sat at the
base of his throat. “I... I like it. Feels safe.” He looked up at Draco, hoping
he would explain because Harry wasn't sure how.
Draco put his hand over one side of the collar and glared at Remus. “Does it
really matter?”
Remus looked so sad again. “I guess it doesn't.”
“How're ya gonna make sure we stay together?” Draco insisted, expression
fierce. It made Harry relax. Draco would handle everything. He wouldn't let
them be separated no matter what.
“If what you say is true and you've formed a bond, the magical world will
respect that,” Remus explained. “I think before we go back to England, it might
be best to have the wizards here document the bond. That way we can have that
information ready when we arrive in England.”
“Tell me more about the threat. Why do we have'ta leave?”
Looking up through his bangs shyly, Harry admitted, “I don't want Liam to be
hurt, but I wish we didn't have to go. I like it here.” Tears filled his eyes
once more and he turned his face to press it into Draco's side.
Remus's voice was warm with understanding when he answered. “There is a group
called the Scourers. From what I've been told, there was no law here at first.
This country was just being colonized and it was chaos. So a group formed. They
were paid to hunt down the wizards who committed crimes and called themselves
the Scourers.
“At first they were just bounty hunters performing a service, but they began to
abuse their power. Hurting others, stealing, and killing without cause, but
they were the only law there was. Until magical America became organized and a
leader elected. Offices were assigned; a police force was created. The Scourers
were asked to retire or face exile or death.
“Some grew furious and hid from the new government. Hid in the Muggle world.
They hated wizards with a passion and passed on their hatred to their children
and their children's children. Any magical baby born to them was killed. Any
they discovered to have magic, no matter how young, male or female, they
killed. They were behind the hysteria of the witch burnings. Hundreds of
innocent witches were murdered by Muggles and Scourers during that time of
terror, and that is when magical America forbade connect between wizards and
Muggles. Secrecy is safer for everyone.”
“So they're not magical?” Draco asked, head tilted curiously. “The Scourers.
They're just normal people.”
Remus grew intense, eyes golden. “Do not underestimate Muggles. They are
capable of killing you as quickly as magic can.”
Draco bared his teeth in a death head grin. “Oh. I know.”
“Especially with these infernal guns,” Remus insisted. He reached across the
table, but he wasn't close enough to touch them without standing. He remained
seated, his hand outstretched. “They get more refined every year that passes. A
gun can now kill you from a block away. You'd never see it coming, never be
able to shield in time. The Scourers are an organized group. They've had
decades of experience killing a person with magic at their disposal.” He looked
from Harry back to Draco. “It's not safe here, Draco. Truly it isn't. Please
come with me to the magical district.”
“What's the plan with Liam?” Draco asked instead of agreeing.
Remus didn't answer for a minute. He'd noticed Draco's non-answer, but he did
finally say, “Because he is not your family, he will be spelled to think you
and Harry were found by a long-lost relative. He will be convinced you are both
happy and safe, and the spell will spread to anyone who asks him about you,
making everyone happy that you have gone to live with family.”
Draco's eyes were wide. “That's crazy.”
“But it will happen,” Remus said with finality. “You are magical children. You
will not be allowed to remain in the care of a Muggle. And really, it could
have been drastically worse. Liam won't be worried by your absence or suffer a
feeling of loss. He will be able to move on. Had you been biological family,
there would have been no hiding that sense of loss, so the Aurors wouldn't have
tried. They would have made him remember seeing you die in an accident. That
would have haunted him as it has other Muggle parents.”
Harry felt – horror –and Draco's hand tightened on his shoulder, but his
expression continued to look only mildly curious. “Sounds like ya don't agree,”
he said.
Remus shook his head slowly. “England does not adhere to such strict Secrecy
laws. Magical children are left to be raised by their families until they turn
eleven when they begin their magical education at Hogwarts School. At that
time, the family would be spelled to prevent them from talking about the
magical world to anyone else, but their child would still return to them during
the holidays and summer when the school is closed. Of course, magical children
are not allowed to do magic around Muggles or at home. If they break that rule,
they would face punishment, but they can still have that connection to their
blood family.”
“So if Liam was willing to go ta England...” Draco trailed off as Remus shook
his head.
“You may write letters, sure, and he visit you and you him, but he still could
not have custody of Harry, and if you want to stay with Harry, then he couldn't
have custody of you, either.” Remus sighed. “He may be your guardian in the
Muggle world, but the magical government would not recognize his claim to
Harry. There is no blood tie there. Likely Harry will be put under the
guardianship of a powerful wizard. It would be for Harry's own protection
against any bad wizards and also serve to make sure that Harry receives
adequate magical guidance. I suspect his custody will go to Albus Dumbledore,
the strongest wizard in Europe and renowned for his steadfast adherence to the
Light. He is also Headmaster of Hogwarts and has experience with children.”
Harry had no idea what Remus was talking about and he didn't like the way
Draco's face was scrunched. Draco only did that when he had to concentrate
really hard to understand something. That meant things were complicated and
difficult. And it was because of Harry. Harry had understood the part that Liam
could have custody of Draco but not Harry if Liam went to England, so it was
his completely his fault that they couldn't stay with him.
* Doesn't matter, *Draco said into his mind, accurately guessing the source of
his – guilt anxiety. * Liam wouldn't come to England anyway, remember? He
doesn't want to leave New York. And even if we stayed here he isn't allowed to
have contact with us at all for any reason. * Out loud, Draco said, “Let's say
person A asks Liam and the spell gets 'em and they're all happy we're gone.
What happens if person B asks person A?”
Remus narrowed his eyes. “What are you planning?”
“I'm just curious,” Draco insisted, hands raised to show innocence.
“Nothing unusual. They will believe or not believe that you are well with new-
found family. Liam will be the spell's carrier and only he can transmit it.
However, if they are worried and find it suspicious, they would likely ask Liam
about it themselves, wouldn't they? And then the spell would move to them and
they would stop being worried and instead be happy for you. They wouldn't think
about it much after that.”
Draco nodded. He looked down and met Harry's eyes. * Go to the bathroom, Harry.
*
Harry's brow scrunched. He could pee, sure, but not so bad that he had to leave
right now. But then he glanced at Remus and knew Draco wanted to say something
without him. His face cleared and he stood – trust. Looking at the floor, he
said softly, “I've gotta pee,” and then he hurried away.
Draco took Harry's seat and looked straight into Remus's eyes. “You said the
dark wizard disappeared not that he died. He's still alive?” Remus looked
shocked, and Draco added impatiently with a glare, “Look, we only have a few
minutes while Harry's gone. Hurry up.”
Remus paused a second, then asked, “Why don't you want him to know?”
Draco's glare darkened. “What happened ta'me messed up my head. Maybe that's
why, but I notice stuff. Like the dark wizard only disappearin' not dyin' in
your story. Harry's still a kid, still thinks like one, an' I wanna keep it
that way as long as I can. But me. I'm not a kid. I gotta think about this
stuff or we're gonna get killed or hurt. So tell me. Harry's still in trouble
from this guy?”
Remus slowly nodded, eyes still wide.
“How bad is he?”
“His name was Voldemort, and he was a monster,” Remus told him seriously. “Evil
and vile. No one could stop him for ten years before Harry did. He caused such
terror that people cannot say his name and refer to him as You-Know-Who. He
will never forgive Harry for hurting him. He will never stop hunting him. Harry
will never be safe as long as Voldemort lives.”
Rage instantly flooded Draco's veins. With a hiss, Draco got to his feet and
pressed his hands flat on the table top. Leaning forward, he demanded, “Why're
we goin back to England then? That's where the dark wizards are, right? Where
Vold'mort is?”
“Harry has a support base there. He'll need help to survive once the war starts
again,” Remus protested. “And it's where he belongs. It's his home.”
“It was never his home,” Draco argued, eyes silver. “I'm his home now.”
“There's a school. I told you about it a little already.” Remus looked
desperate to convince him. “The most famous school in the world where kids
learn magic. Harry's on the books to attend. You'll both need to learn how to
defend yourselves. Magic is very complicated.”
“Ya said kids go when they're eleven. That's six years from now,” Draco pointed
out coldly. “I'm not sayin' we won't go, but I'm not convinced. Let's see how
things go with the magic world here, and then we'll decide.”
Remus sighed, figuring that was the best he could expect for now. At least
Draco was leaving the topic open for discussion later. “Okay,” he agreed.
Draco gasped and collapsed backward. Harry – the constant mutable hum of
emotions – it had just snapped off. Draco hit the chair only for it to go
clattering across the tile floor. The ground rose up and smacked him hard along
the left side of his body. Sounds warped in his ears for a terrible second, but
then everything was crystal clear.
“Merlin! Draco, what happened? Draco!”
Remus was kneeling by him, lifting his upper body off the floor and tapping his
cheeks. He looked terrified. Draco snarled and rolled out of his arms. A faint,
barely there whistle. Those amber eyes went dark. Remus didn't even have time
to close them. He just folded, collapsed, eyes open but blank... dead.
Screams.
“Someone call an ambulance!”
Draco rolled under the table, putting his back to something, then he sprinted
toward the hallway where Harry had gone.
Harry!
Draco had only gone four feet when he felt something hit his shoulder.
Blackout.
Chapter end.
A/N:Well, things took a drastic left turn. Honestly sometimes even I'm
surprised when a story jags left. Hang on tight, things are going to get rocky.
 
***** Evil *****
A/N: WARNING!This chapter contains religious themes/ exorcism. It is based on
fact. Everything that the characters experience in this chapter has been
experienced by real life people during misguided exorcisms. If this topic is
upsetting to you, please do not read this chapter. Please do not read this
chapter if you feel it will influence you to replicate in any way what is
depicted. Seriously. Don't. However, it is something I felt I had to explore.
                                     Evil
Draco arched with a gasp. Vision blurred. The room was swaying. The Hold?
Sluggish fear.
"Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino per caelum, caelum antiquos, glori
Patri..."
A slurred moan escaped him as his head rolled to the side, trying to see,
trying to understand. Brick walls. Dark. Candles. So many little flames. No
windows. Shadows of men. Soft bed, cold chains around wrists, ankles. Naked
against coarse sheets. Familiar...
"Kingdoms of the earth, sing unto God. Sing praises to the Lord by way of
heaven, the heaven of the ancients, and the glory of the Father..."
This feeling... It was familiar... Draco groaned and moved his mouth, but words
wouldn't come. He churned his chained limbs restlessly but hardly moved. He
knew this feeling. Knew it... "Special K" or "Vitamin K"... Drugged. He was
drugged. Remembered the injections the few times he'd just snapped, became
violent. And the kids in the Hold... docile, vacant after the shots. But his
thoughts were moving again, sluggishly connecting things...
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis
incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta
diabolica...”
Harry... He couldn't feel Harry, but was it the drugs? Or was Harry gone...
Remus's blank dead eyes... “Whaaa...?” He forced the shape of the word, eyes
swinging from shape to shape. “Wha?”
A figure moved forward. Brown cape, hood raised to hide his face, but it was a
he. Draco would know a male's shape in any state. Threat! Draco flinched as a
meaty hand violently lifted a golden cross and thrust it out to him.
“If the soul of this child can hear me past the Demon, know we will try to win
you free! If the Demon's hold is too great, we will free thee unto Heaven! Your
time of suffering is near over!”
Draco growled. Demon? He pulled weakly at the chains holding him spread eagle
on the bed.
"We exorcise you! Every impure spirit! Every satanic power! Every incursion of
the infernal adversary! Every legion! Every congregation and diabolical sect!”
                                    6 hours
Harry sobbed weakly, tears drenching his face. He couldn't see, just blurs of
color, but the sound of the constant chanting terrified him. Arms out, legs
out, naked, terrified. Draco. Want Draco! He didn't know where he was, how he
got here. Didn't remember anything really, just a certainty that Draco should
be there. Not even quite sure who exactly Draco was, just knew they should be
together.
“Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te cessa decipere humanas creaturas,
eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare.”
The sound never stopped. Sometimes in that weird jumble of unfamiliar words.
Sometimes in English saying things he didn't understand. He wept and wept. A
snap and he cried out. Pain across his chest burned him to the bone. Another
snap and he screamed.
“Diabolical legions, we adjure you! Cease to deceive human creatures and to
give to them the poison of eternal damnation!”
The lashes came again and again. He jerked at his arms and legs, trying to
flee, trying to cover himself. But they kept coming! He screamed until he lost
his voice. Dizzy, sick, heart pounding so hard it almost felt bruised against
his bones, he began to pass out.
A man was screaming, “Do you repent your desire? Do you repent laying your lips
on a boy? Will you turn away from temptation and return to the Holy Light of
God? DO YOU REPENT?”
'Draco, Draco, Draco...'Harry mouthed the word through his tears, unable to
speak.
“He calls for the Devil!”
The snap came harder this time. Hard enough to steal his breath, lock his
lungs, and stop his heart for an agonizing moment.
“Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ, hostis humanæ salutis!
Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei; contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto
et terribili nomine... quem inferi tremunt...”
                                   12 hours
“Where do they hide?” a cold voice demanded.
Remus gasped as another bucket of ice cold water was thrown violently in his
face. Chained against a brick wall, his arms were painfully stretched above
him. He was naked. His skin bore lacerations from a flogger and bruises from a
cane. His eyes were long since gold. Wet, shivering, he bared his teeth at his
attackers.
“WHERE ARE THE WITCHES?”
The waterfall torrent hit his face, choking him. The burn of the ice water; the
gasping, painful hitch of his breath. Cold down to his bones; shaking so hard
his chains rattled, the sound filling the room and underscoring the chants.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas omnis
incursio infernalis adversarii. Omnis legio! Omnis con... potestas, omnis
incursio infernalis adversarii. Omnis legio! Omnis congregatio et secta
diabolica!”
The drugs only dulled his senses slightly, but add in complete exhaustion...
Any hope of wandless magic was impossible. Remus had been chained to this wall
and tormented for what felt like weeks, but that couldn't be true. Had to be
only days. He'd have transformed by now if it'd been weeks. He threw his head
back and howled at the thought. These chains would not hold him then.
One of the lunatics strode forward and backhanded him viciously across the
face. “Demon!” He grabbed Remus by the hair and forced his face up. “You will
tell us where your coven meets! Or we will make Hell look like Heaven in
comparison!”
“Wh-wh-where ar-r-r-re th-h-he b-boys-s-s?” he demanded as he had a hundred
times before.
A man stepped forward from the shadows. He was thinner than the others and
shorter. Remus watched him unblinkingly through golden eyes as his body quaked
and shivered.
“They are going through Holy exorcisms. We always try to save the children.
It's been nearly twelve hours. We should see signs soon if they are
salvageable.”
Twelve hours? Twelve hours! Remus went limp in the chains, knees bent. Only
twelve hours? It felt like years.
A slender hand grabbed his face, forcing his jaws open. Blue eyes burned into
him. “But you, demon, have possessed this body too long to be evicted. You've
consumed this poor man's soul long ago.We usually kill your kind on sight, but
we are tired of fighting this losing battle.”
Sharp nails broke Remus's skin, made him bleed. He stared dumbly, in shock,
numb.
“We are sick of your kind possessing our children and stealing them away to
propagate evil. We will have the location of the Demon Nest from you.” His
fingers punctured through the skin of Remus's cheeks, reached through them and
touched his teeth.
Remus's tongue writhed as he screamed, blood filling his mouth and spilling
down his throat. A thick wooden cross was shoved into his mouth, further
choking him. Remus thrashed his head, terrified, but the arms of the cross were
forced through the tears made in his flesh, ripping his skin further apart.
Sobbing, screaming, Remus hardly felt the leather strap that they secured
around his head, holding the cross in place, but he definitely felt it when the
long end was shoved against the back of his throat. His screams transformed
into gags, and then he was vomiting the blood he'd swallowed. Suffocating; he
could hardly breathe!
“Look at how he writhes at the touch of the Cross!” the man screamed
hysterically. “See how Evil suffers at the touch of the Holy!”
Chained like an animal, blood and vomit coating his naked skin, eyes bugged as
he choked, Remus thrashed his head in terrified panic.
“Suffer, filthy Demon! We'll see if you're ready to talk in an hour!”
                                   18 hours
A thready scream rose from Draco's tortured throat as hot oil splashed over his
chest. He was drenched in sweat from the pain and heat, and the salt only
further irritated his scarred and grotesquely blistering skin. Near exhaustion
and complete black-out, Draco clenched his jaws and endured.
“I don't think there will be salvation for you, foul beast,” his tormentor
spoke, resting against the wall as more oil was heated to a boil. He was brown
all over, the man. Brown hair and eyes, tan skin, brown hooded cloak. Draco
hated him with everything he was.
“Oh, yes. We know all about your vile game. Know how you seduced men to your
form, tainting them with new appetites to unleash on the innocent children of
the world. Know all about the ones you fed on, sending your vile poison into
their bodies to hide the fact that you had consumed their souls. You may look
the victim, Devil, but we see through your insidious deception.”
“Don't... know... what... yer... talkin... 'bout...” Draco panted hatefully.
The man brushed Draco's sweat-soaked hair off his face. “That's how we learned
of your existence. Raymond's men were all too eager to tell tales of Raymond's
pet monster. It took a while, but we were able to track you to O'Shea. Luongo
insisted on fetching his property, thought it'd give him a reputation among the
Family. He did not listen to us when we told him he was dealing with forces not
of Earth but of Hell.”
Draco grimaced as the man's hand wandered down to his neck where his skin oozed
painfully.
“But you were more powerful than he. Killed them all in the space of an hour.
Lost your trail after that, until you returned to the club. Couldn't leave that
playground in the basement, could you? It's perfect for you, Demon, isn't it?”
The man's nails scrapped down the raw flesh of Draco's chest and he whimpered.
“We would have killed you then, but it was decided to use you as bait. To see
if other Demons would gather around you.”
With a hot glare, Draco rasped a demand, “Har... ry?”
“There is hope yet for the one you tempted.” The man took his hand away and
leaned close, their faces inches apart. “Were the souls of men no longer
enough, Demon? You had to seduce an innocent child and taint him with your
evil? Is it more satisfying for you when they are children? To see their
innocent eyes get wide as you tease and tempt their body. I bet sweet little
Harry was delicious.”
Draco would have spat in his face if he had enough moisture in his mouth.
The man gave a cruel smile and rose. Two others approached with the oil. “Ab
insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine! Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias
libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos...”
The hot oil splashed down over his chest, neck, penis. Draco writhed in pain so
great it wiped out who he was, wiped out every memory, until all he was, was
this one moment. Forever.
Eventually the pain ebbed and he could breathe and think again. Eyes silver
with hate, face twisted in agony, he pulled hard against his restraints,
straining his joints as he lifted his head and shoulders as much as he could
off the bed.
Violently shaking, strung tight as a bow, he spoke in a voice hoarse and
guttural from endless hours of screaming, “Evil mother fuckers! I'll fucking
kill you all! Sadistic assholes! Go to hell, you bastards!”
“See how the demon comes forth! He's losing hold! We must pry him away from the
child!”
They rushed him. A dozen hands swung down, heavy with crosses, and battered at
his already blistered and oozing skin and muscle. The blows felt like hammers!
“Be gone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation!
Be humble under the mighty hand of God! Tremble and flee when we invoke the
Holy and Terrible Name at which those down below tremble!”
Draco howled as he felt something crack and give way in his chest. Blood filled
his throat. Terrified, near out of his mind with pain, his magic lashed out.
The hooded men slammed against the walls. The bed jerked one way and then the
next, the metal screaming. The door to his prison shattered. Two men died as
stakes of wood impaled one in the throat, another in the chest. Candles
exploded in a burst of blinding, white fire, and then the room was plunged into
darkness.
Weak, struggling to breathe, Draco choked out a hysterical laugh.
The men were screaming, yelling orders. Candles were relit. His arms were
unchained and he was dragged off the bed nearly unconscious. He blacked out for
a second as bones grated, then he was bent over a cold metal rim and plunged
face first into a small tub of ice cold water.
                                   24 hours
“From the snares of the devil, deliver us, O Lord. That Thy Church may serve
Thee in peace and liberty, we ask Thee, hear us."
Harry gasped and choked as he wept dryly, too dehydrated to make tears. The
room was filled with smoke. The scent stung his nose. Head pounding, barely
conscious, he begged weakly, “... sorry Ack! …sorry cough please... wheeze!”
“Should we help?” a tentative voice asked as Harry struggled to breathe.
“Don't let the Devil deceive you!”
A man grabbed Harry's sweat-soaked hair and pulled his head off the bed, pain
spasmed through his shoulders and neck. A photo was shoved into his face, close
enough that Harry could see it fairly clearly, even as delirious as he was. It
was an 8x10 photo of Draco, eyes closed, blond hair fanning out across the
pillow under his head, pink lips slightly parted.
“Do you reject evil in all it's guises, boy?”
Harry, wheezing, stared at the picture desperately. Draco!
“Do you reject him? Do you reject the Devil?”
He flinched, but he couldn't look away. Draco was real! He was real!
“See the desire in his face! The Devil has him still!”
"Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus, Omnis Satanica Potestas, Omnis
Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Congregatio et Secta Diabolica, Ergo
Draco Maledicte, Ut Ecclesiam Tuam Servire, Tibi Facias Libertate Secura, Te
Rogamus, Audi Nos!"
Three cups – three for the Trinity – of a purifying salt and vinegar concoction
mixed with frankincense and myrrh was poured into Harry's mouth with a funnel.
His eyes bugged. The liquid burned his mouth, tasting vile, but ducted tape was
slammed across his lips before he could spew it out.
He went rigid in confused terror. Forced to swallow, it bounced immediately and
vomit seared his sinuses and sprayed from his nose. He couldn’t breathe! His
chains jerked and rattled as he thrashed with the last of his strength,
fighting for life.
Sudden cracks exploded through the walls and ceiling, sounding like gun shots.
The smoke-fogged room filled with dust as Harry, blind and terrified, slowly
choked to death, his abdomen cramping and spasming from their toxic mixture.
The men continued to scream and thrust their crosses at him. "We exorcise you!
Every impure spirit! Every satanic power! Every incursion of the infernal
Devil, every congregation and diabolical sect, therefore you also, Cursed
Dragon! So that your Church can serve Thee in secure liberty. We beseech Thee
as we pray, hear us!"
“Ergo, Draco maledicte et omnis... legio diabolica, adiuramus te! Exorcizamus
te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis
adversarii. Omnis legio! Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!"
The door slammed open. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. The chanting stopped, but somehow
the flood of words still echoed and echoed in Harry's brain as everything grew
dark.
...“Draco maledicte et omnis...”
… Draco ...
                                       …
Liam stepped over the bodies blindly, eyes only on Harry. He shoved his gun
into the back of his pants, moving quickly to the battered child's side. He
tore the tape from Harry's face and forced him onto his side as much as his
chained arms and legs would allow. The boy's lips had gone blue, his face
purple from suffocation.
Liam hit his back several times to help him expel the vomit. It smelled horrid,
of vinegar and spicy herbs. Harry struggled desperately to clear his lungs, to
take even one clear breath. Hacking and coughing, he fought to breathe, but it
was clear he was utterly exhausted and only semi-conscious.
Liam curled close, putting his forehead to the child's, completely uncaring
about the filth and blood. “I'm here, Harry. It's over. You're safe. I've got
you, honey. It's okay now. That's it.” Eyes cold as death, he took in the
horrific damage.
Sweat-soaked hair was plastered to Harry's head, making him look small and
sickly. He had welts and bleeding lashes across his chest. Deep black-purple
bruising covered his torso and spread up his arms and down his legs. His hands
and ankles were swollen and discolored from the tight cuffs, looking nearly
deformed. Urine and feces had soaked into the mattress and was smeared across
the sheets. Liam could see the skin of Harry's thighs and genitals red and
irritated with a rash from being left to lie in his own waste. Rosaries were
corded around the child's arms and balls, tight enough to cut off circulation.
With shaking hands, Liam began to carefully unravel them. “I've got you, Harry.
I'm here. I'm here.”
                                       …
Drey and Jess knew Liam could handle himself and rushed toward the next room.
The next door over was in tatters, and Drey barreled through hardly stopping,
her combat boot shattering what was left. The muffled sound of Liam firing was
echoed as she shot a man who stood at the foot of a twin bed. Blood splattered
gorily against the wall of the chamber. The other – the one praying in the
chair next to the bed – she held the gun steady, aimed dead center of his
chest.
“Go!” she barked, voice a growl. Jess left her back, heading further down the
hallway.
Tossing her tangled ponytail off her shoulder, Drey stepped further into the
room, gun still trained on the man even as her eyes rested on the little boy
lying broken in the bed.
Draco was unconscious and naked. The chains at the headboard and footboard lay
loose and his arms rested gently at his sides, but the deep bruising around
ankles and wrists told her that the cuffs hadn't always been empty. His torso
looked like raw meat, like a package of steak at the grocery, oozing and
bloody. It stank, like cooked meat, piss, and shit. It was a scene from Hell.
Pillows propped him up in an almost sitting position. His face was ghostly
pale, lips and eyelids blue, his raw and disgusting chest hardly moved. One
side was completely compressed, the other barely rose and fell. A steady
trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, shockingly bright against
his deathly white skin.
Drey looked in the eyes of the cloaked man and said calmly. “You're about to
die. Anything to say, scum?” The heavy metal lock that hung from a thick chain
and rested on her breasts felt even heavier as her finger rested on the
trigger. She'd locked it there as a promise of vengeance to her younger
brother, a promise to kill. Every life she took made it feel heavier.
Lifting his chin with haughty arrogance, the man looked her in the eye and had
the balls to say, “We are the Scourers of Evil. The boy was possessed by the
Devil and had to be cleansed.”
“You psychotic son of a bitch,” she whispered hatefully and pulled the trigger,
shooting him in the chest.
The man gargled a scream as he collapsed backward, blood spraying outward. Drey
hoped it took him several minutes to die, hoped he suffocated slowly, so that
he felt a small portion of what Draco had endured at his hands.
Stepping close, she put her free hand protectively on Draco's head before
spinning and sprinting from the room, yelling to Liam, “I'm calling an
ambulance! I'll be back.”
                                       …
Jess swung open the next door, quickly moving to the side and bracing her gun
with both hands. The room was empty. She could hear screams coming from the
last door in the hallway, and she took a deep breath before swinging it open.
Three men had their backs to her. They were yelling Latin at a man chained
against the wall. The poor bastard was screaming as a six-inch metal cross,
heated until it glowed hot, was pressed into his skin.
They didn't even turn to face her, so caught up were they in their ritual. She
shot two in the back of the head and the last in the forehead as he turned. The
poor bastard hanging on the wall still screamed even though the brand was no
longer pressing against his flesh.
His body was a canvas of torment. They had been at this awhile. Four crosses of
red and blackened, gooey flesh went across his torso in a straight line at
nipple height. Two more were seared into his skin one on top of the other under
his throat and on his sternum. The last three completed the line going down his
stomach so that the burns created a massive connect-the-dots cross.
Then there was his face. It was mutilated; the cheeks torn open and dribbling
blood and spit, and she could see the white gleam of teeth through the rips,
but that wasn't even the worst part. His face was in such a rictus of agony
that he hardly looked human.
“Hey! Can you hear me?” She had no idea where to touch him without hurting him
further, but she laid her hand atop his head. “It's over. It's over now. It's
okay.”
Slowly the screams turned into weak sobbing. The man hung limp, unhearing. She
left him reluctantly and searched the men on the floor. She finally found keys.
Her head snapped up as she heard the scuff of feet on the floor only to relax
as Liam appeared. She felt cold to her very core at his expression.
Voice completely flat and lacking any intonation, he said, “Need keys. Drey's
calling an ambulance from upstairs.”
With a nod, she stood. “Help me with him first.”
Without a word, Liam came into the room and grabbed the man around the chest
carefully, but the poor bastard still cried out in agony. Jess freed him and
Liam lowered him to the floor, then she handed him the keys. He disappeared
without another word.
“God help us,” she rasped, terror nearly stealing her breath.
She wanted to go to Harry and Draco with everything that was in her, but Liam
said this guy was important. She couldn't leave him alone. What if something
happened? What if he needed CPR and she wasn't there? Dammit! Lifting the man's
head as gently as she could, she tried to force eye contact.
“Hey. Can you hear me? An ambulance is on the way. You're safe now.”
Understanding slowly trickled into his expression. Still crying, he lifted his
hand and she grabbed it firmly. He tried to speak, but the rips in his cheeks
made it difficult. She tried to sooth him, but he was insistent and became
upset.
“Okay. Take it slow. What are you trying to say?” she asked, holding his eyes
and trying to exude calm for his sake.
“Pock. Ket. Pans. Pock. Ket!”
“Hold on.”
She carefully lifted her hands away from his shoulders, making sure he wouldn't
just tip over. There was nothing in this room. She quickly moved to the door.
The empty room she'd passed earlier, it'd had food and other things in there.
Maybe the man's clothes were being stored there, too.
After throwing open cupboards and tossing everything onto the floor in her
desperate search, she found a bag of clothes. Draco's and Harry's clothes were
there, too. As well as a ziplock of odds and ends: fancy silver pen, bubble gum
wrapper, zoo ticket stub, watch, and wallet. She hurried back to the man with
the bag with no idea why he needed it so badly. She found him lying on his
side. It looked like he'd tried to crawl only to collapse.
Turning him over onto his back, she showed him the ziplock. “This what you
need?”
“Pleez,” he begged desperately, pointing to his wallet.
She took the wallet out of the bag. Then she opened it for him, holding it up
so he could see. She expected to see family pictures. Maybe the guy thought he
was dying? Hell, maybe he was dying, and he just wanted to see his family one
last time, but it was practically empty: drivers license, one credit card, and
a business card. The man pointed weakly at the white business card.
She tugged it free and handed it to him. She could hear the sound of an
ambulance coming closer. It'd be there in less than a minute. With violently
trembling hands, the man tore the card in half. She was truly baffled. Maybe it
was incriminating?
Before she could really react though, there was a series of two pops. Spinning
on her knees, gun lifting as she aimed, she toppled sideways unconscious before
she even saw her attacker.
                                       …
Betty was a trouble maker. Everyone knew that. In fact, she was famous for it.
That's why she got stuck with International Portkey security so often. But
she'd lose hand's down to this British guy. She whistled as she took in the
damage he'd suffered, the three dead Scourers, and the pretty Asian who'd
clearly been rescuing him. And she was a looker. Even in the black pants, tight
black sweater, and her hair pulled back into a severe bun, Betty could tell she
was gorgeous.
“Who gets rescued by beautiful ninjas nowadays?” she demanded as she knelt by
Lupin, carefully feeling for a pulse as she simultaneously cast basic Healing
spells to stabilize him for Apparation. Her partner Jake stood guard above
them, staff rooted to the ground as he shielded. “Let's get you out of here.”
“No. NO!” Lupin struggled weakly against her. His voice was wrecked. “Boys.
Boys!”
Her eyes shot up to Jake and understanding passing in a quick second between
them: He'd stand guard, she was better at offense.
Popping her gum, Betty moved fluidly to the doorway. Chanting, she pressed her
hands to the wall. She sensed four people maybe? Definitely in different
locations, though. She should be able to handle them, but she had to be quick.
The sounds of the ambulance siren was blaring. They were about to be overrun by
Muggles!
Sprinting into the hallway, keeping low, she passed an empty room that looked
to have been ransacked. She heard people above her head. They were heading
toward what looked like stairs at the end of the hallway. She rolled through an
open doorway, debris catching her painfully in her back and ass, and she came
up in a crouch with her wand ready.
A woman with fierce eyes wearing a corset and leather nearly shot her in the
head. The bullet instead nicked Betty's shoulder. A quick wanded Stupify and
the woman crumpled next to the bed. There were more dead Scourers and a naked,
tortured little boy about to take his last breath.
She ran forward, pulled a metal barrette out of her hair, and licked it before
putting it in the kid's limp hand. Two seconds later he was portkeyed into an
emergency hospital bed. Those hairpins were to be used in emergency situations
only, but this had been beyond that. Eyes watering from the smells in the room
and feeling a little shocky at what she'd seen before the kid had disappeared,
she hurried to the door.
Paramedics were already descending the stairs. She bolted into the next room
over, ignored the startled shouts to “Stop!” and “We're here to help!”, and
came upon more dead bodies and a man with a gun pointed right at her head.
Another dying child lay in the bed behind him.
“I don't have time to explain, but that kid's going to die if you don't let me
help him,” she told him honestly, staring into his eyes and keeping her hands
raised.
He stared at her, expression empty. Just as a paramedic came into the room, he
put the gun down and gave a sharp nod.
“What's the situation here?” the medic demanded.
Betty popped her gum and rushed toward the bed. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Is he
alright?” she asked loudly, feigning hysterics to disguise the fact that she'd
pulled her last hair pin from her hair, letting the heavy blond locks fall to
her shoulders. Another wild arm movement and she ran her tongue along the cold
metal pin and tossed it on the kid's battered and lacerated chest.
The gunman's blue eyes missed nothing and he put his hand over the hairpin just
as her saliva dried and her last emergency portkey activated. They disappeared.
She mentally winced. Her boss was going to just love that! Sending a Muggle to
the magical hospital... She groaned. She was going to be made security forever!
As the paramedics freaked out, she stunned them all. Quickly, she set up a
memory wipe, drawing runes on their foreheads with a gelatinous potion. “You
walked in on a gun fight. You took cover. The shots ended and you found
everyone dead.”
The runes absorbed into their skin, and she hurried back into the hallway. She
levitated the woman in leather and towed her into the room with her partner,
Remus, and the ninja girl. “Clear and clean!” she reported.
Jake released the shield. “What are we going to do with them?” he asked
quietly.
Betty popped her gum. “Pretty sure they were the ones who killed the Scourers.
Don't want them here getting in trouble for murder when they did us a favor.”
She crouched and drew the memory rune on both of their heads with the last of
her ointment. “You couldn't find who you were looking for, but you killed all
of the people who'd held them here.”
The ointment absorbed into their skin and Betty stood with a grin. “Best I
could do. They have a chance now.” She took one of Remus's arms. “Come on. Help
me.”
They'd been partners for years, so it took only a moment to reach out with
their magic and link. Together they pair-Apparated, bringing Lupin as a side-a-
long with them to the hospital. Just as they dissapeared, Betty cast a wandless
Ennervate to wake the women.
Usually it was impossible to side-a-long an unconscious wizard, but it was
doable by linking. They were going to have one hell of a headache when they
landed, though, but that might be for the best. Maybe her headache would be bad
enough that she'd forget some of the things she'd seen. She just knew she was
going to have nightmares for weeks after this.
Chapter end.
A/N:Please let me know what you think. It was a very hard chapter to write.
 
***** Farewell *****
                                   Farewell
Remus, feeling strange, almost empty, opened his eyes to a soft white ceiling.
Head rolling sideways, he saw a window with sunlight spilling through gauzy
white curtains and soft purple/blue walls. Rolling his head the other way, he
saw an open doorway and a white hall beyond that.
His whole body went tense as he remembered what was missing: Pain. There was no
more pain! It was almost like losing a limb, the sudden absence of something
that had been so permanent and solid, like a living, breathing thing under his
skin.
Weakly, he lifted his arms to pull down the soft white sheets and knitted
blanket. Tears wet his cheeks as he took in his chest, which was bandaged from
throat to hips. He wore white pajama pants and his feet were bare. His arms had
healing, yellow-green bruising, especially around his wrists. Trembling, he
pushed up into a sitting position. Then he swung his legs off the bed. When he
lifted his head, he noticed a woman in Healer green observing him from the
doorway.
“Good morning, Mr. Lupin,” she spoke, voice low and soothing. She had warm
brown eyes and auburn hair pulled up into a high, thick ponytail. “This is St.
Brighid Northeast Magical Hospital. Due to lycanthropy, you have been resistant
to healing spells, potions, and ointments. Please move carefully. You are not
fully healed.”
“Where...” he rasped and had to cough.
The healer entered the room and Remus noticed she had a slight limp. She stood
next to him and poured a glass of water from a pitcher sitting on the bedside
table. She offered it to him, and he took it with both hands, afraid to spill
it.
As he drank, she lifted her hands and held them a few inches away from the
side's of his head. He felt the shiver of her magic running through him and did
his best not to react. He felt jumpy, his heart beating hard with a jittery
anxiety. She frowned and pulled her hands away, taking the cup from him just as
his shaking hands were about to spill it.
Before she could say anything, Remus tried again. “Where are... the boys? Did
they... get here safely? What's their... condition?”
Her frown softened and she clasped her hands in front of her. Remus noticed
that there were snakes woven into the hem of her long-sleeved scrubs. “They
suffered more critical internal injuries than you and are still being held in
the Bona Dea Children's Ward.”
“Their condition?” Remus insisted, staring her down.
She looked tired as she answered him. “There were traces of a very high potency
tranquilizer in all three of your systems. We suspect that the Scourers used
this to subdue you upon your capture. Further, all three of you showed evidence
of repeated injections of a low dose of ketamine hydrochloride. While you and
the blond child proved to be resistant to the drugs, the brunet was more
susceptible and his respiratory system was compromised due to this
combination.”
“Is he okay?” Remus demanded and tried to get to his feet.
The healer gently pressed on his shoulders to keep him seated. “He is doing
well and is out of danger,” she assured him.
Remus gripped the bed in both hands. He felt hot all over, but he forced
himself to hold still. “What did they do to him?”
She sighed and continued to give him the harrowing report. “The brunet
aspirated on a mixture the Scourers forced him to imbibe and vomit. He suffered
respiratory collapse after being subjected to emergency portkey and had to be
revived several times. Spells have been cast to assist his breathing as his
respiratory system is still recovering and his lungs are still in danger of
infection. We were able to purge him of the toxins the mixture produced. The
external contusions and lacerations have been healed with minimal complications
and scarring. Also, circulation has been repaired to his extremities. We
project a full recovery in as soon as two weeks.”
Remus swallowed. His throat felt painfully tight as he imagined what exactly
Harry had felt as those injuries had been inflicted. “And Draco?”
“Is that the child's name?”
“Draco Black is the blond and Harry Potter is the brunet,” Remus told her and
watched as she pulled out a notepad and wrote it down. “What's his condition?”
he asked again, and when she looked reluctant, Remus's stomach dropped. “Tell
me. Please.”
“He's still in critical condition,” she admitted. “He suffered the most
physical damage between the three of you. He had second and third degree burns
spanning the entirety of his torso and genitalia from what looks like hot oil.
He also suffered severe contusions across this same area and two broken ribs
that punctured through his left lung. He arrived without pulse or respiration.
It took several minutes to stimulate his heart and several hours to correct the
broken ribs and repair the lung.
“During this time, Draco suffered cerebral hypoxia, which means his brain
lacked adequate levels of oxygen. It is unclear if he will regain
consciousness, although he is now breathing on his own. The severe burning has
not fully healed, but we are hopeful that there will be no muscle damage. We
will not know for sure unless he wakes and demonstrates full strength and
movement of his body. There is also a high chance of hypoesthesia, which is a
partial or complete loss of sensitivity to sensory stimuli, over the surface of
his chest and genitals.”
“Merlin.” Remus collapsed in on himself and wept.
Hands moved him gently back into the bed and pulled the covers up. “You're
still recovering, Mr. Lupin. Please rest as long as you can.”
                                       …
Harry opened his eyes. He felt fuzzy. Everything was blurry, but he knew he was
in a new place. The darkness and the flickering candles were missing, but the
chanting remained. It was a song that ran in circles through his brain. It
tortured him, and he felt the ghost of the flogger against his skin, keeping
rhythm.
"Regna terrae, cantate Deo,(snap) psallite Domino per caelum,(crack) caelum
antiquos, glori Patri...(snap) Exorcizamus te,(crack)omnis immundus spiritus,
(crack)omnis satanica potestas,(snap) omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,
(crack) omnis legio, omnis congregatio(snap) et secta diabolica...”
Harry had never known physical pain like this. It shredded his nerves and mind,
but the hatred of the voices, the glaring eyes, had been so familiar. He'd
drifted on the pain, like Draco had taught him, and tried to step away, but it
screamed and screamed at him. It couldn't be escaped.
“Ergo, omnis legio diabolica,(snap) adiuramus te cessa decipere humanas
creaturas,(crack) eisque æternæ perditionìs venenum propinare.(snap) Vade,
satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciæ,(crack)hostis humanæ salutis!
(snap) Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei;(crack) contremisce et effuge,(snap)
invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine... (crack)quem inferi tremunt...
(snap)”
He was bad. He'd done something wrong... No, that wasn't right. He hadn't done
something... He was something bad, something evil. They called him demon, put a
name to his curse. Demon. He had a demon inside him. The pain... the pain would
get the demon out! Get it out of him, get it out!
Lost in the feverish torment, Harry began to lean into the imaginary blows. His
arms lifted dream-like above his head until they were locked above him, chained
by memory once more.
A healer came and tried to wake him from his trance, but Harry was held
prisoner. He was forced to play the memory out. She gasped as Latin began to
spill from his lips, an echo of the Scourer's twisted prayers. She watched in
horror as his small body rocked under each remembered blow, and his magic,
disturbed and no longer suppressed by drugs, cracked and snapped against the
walls, leaving thin cuts and gorges in the walls, floor, and ceiling every time
the flogger fell in his memory. Terrified the boy would do damage to himself,
she ran for the Asclepius.
Green eyes staring blindly upward, face blank and empty, Harry chanted, voice
low and guttural, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,(crack)omnis
satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii.(snap) Omnis legio!
Omnis con potestas,(crack)omnis incursio infernalis adversarii.(snap)Omnis
legio! Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica!(crack)”
Three healers ran into the room and cast spells to sedate him, but the heavy
heat of Harry's magic smothered their spells. When they tried to touch him, it
was like touching a live current, and they jerked their hands back.
Evil, disgusting thing! He was cursed, possessed! Harry fell deeper and deeper
into the memory, his voice lifting into a near howl, "Exorcizamus te, Omnis
Immundus Spiritus,(snap)Omnis Satanica Potestas, Omnis Incursio Infernalis
Adversarii,(crack)Omnis Congregatio et Secta Diabolica,(snap) Ergo Draco
Maledicte, Ut Ecclesiam Tuam Servire,(crack)Tibi Facias Libertate Secura, Te
Rogamus, Audi Nos!"
Eyes spilling tears, Harry's face split into a grin, bellowing one line over
and over, stuck on repeat. The crack of his magic ceased, becoming instead an
invisible weight with teeth like razors resting against the skin. “Ergo, Draco
maledicte et omnis... Draco maledicte et omnis... Draco maledicte et omnis!
...Draco maledicte et omnis! ...Draco maledicte et omnis! ...DRACO MALEDICTE ET
OMNIS! ...DRACO MALEDICTE ET OMNIS!”
Magic amplified the tortured child's screams to the point the healers collapsed
to their knees, hands clasped desperately to their ears.
Into this chaos, the Asclepius arrived. He wore elaborate robes with beads,
feathers, and precious stones worked in endless spiraling patterns. His hair
stood wild around his head, white as a cloud. His face was cragged and wrinkled
with age, his eyes a fogged hazel. In his arms, he carried the blond child
who'd arrived with the brunet.
The blond was shirtless, the wrinkled and warped skin of his chest still red
and glistening with healing ointment. He was not conscious, but his expression
was no longer doll-like as he lay in a coma. Instead, he was sweating, face
crinkled in pain.
“Leave us,” Asclepius commanded.
The healers all leaned on each other as they quickly stepped out of the room.
Moving forward as if the magic-amplified screams did not touch him, the
Asclepius moved to the bed and gently lay the blond next to the tormented
child. Almost instantly the screams cut off, but the ominous energy did not
disburse.
The healers watched as the Asclepius turned and left the room, sealing the door
and waving his hand at the wall so they could see through it into the hospital
room beyond. Then he took his staff from his apprentice and tapped it once on
the floor, the soft jingle of bells and the hiss of his snake helped him slide
into a trance.
The injured bodies of the children slid out of focus. Instead, he saw a
gorgeous starburst of golden energy pulsing outward and then down into a green
so rich it went beyond the color emerald. Asclepius understood this was the
color of nature, of competition and death. As the two magics came into contact,
there was an immediate rippling reaction.
                                       …
Like a sunrise, the name Draco resonated through Harry's entire being. He
rolled onto his side to see the blond lying next to him, head on a pillow,
sleeping. Sitting up, Harry realized something was on his face, something
shimmery, like water flashing in the corner of his eyes, but when he put his
hands to his face, he couldn't feel anything there. His skin felt a little
colder but otherwise normal. He was distracted from the weird shimmer as he
took in Draco's chest.
Draco was shirtless, unlike Harry who wore a thin cotton shirt. The blond's
chest was pink and red, warped and wrinkled oddly. It shimmered with a clear
lotion. Harry had suffered horrible sunburns after working in the yard all day
for his Aunt. He knew how painful it was.
With a whine, he leaned forward and put his mouth on the angry skin of Draco's
shoulder. Tears falling from his eyes, Harry let his - love need - fill his
belly, let it heat and spill from his mouth in a familiar sensation. The lotion
was slick but tasteless against his lips and tongue.
Harry sat up and quickly pulled off his shirt. He pressed himself against
Draco's side. As their warm skin slid against each other, it was like coming
home.
Crying quietly, he sucked and licked over every inch. He was halfway down
Draco's chest, beginning to feel dizzy and limp, when Draco's hand lifted and
sank into the hair at the back of his head. Harry whimpered and lifted his head
to see sleepy grey eyes peering at him. Draco's lips curled into a soft smile,
and Harry slid up Draco's body to kiss those lips again and again.
Draco held him tightly by the hair, pushing his tongue into Harry's mouth.
Harry's heart nearly burst with - joy love. Lips parting with a soft smack,
cheeks flushed red, Harry lifted his head and moved back down to Draco's
sternum. He licked his way down, his body throbbing with heat.
Draco's skin warmed beneath his lips, and he felt Draco sigh a moan. Suddenly
he wasn't dizzy and weak anymore. Pleasure surged along his skin. Sensually, he
pressed his thigh between Draco's legs, the cotton pants they wore sliding
together with a faint hiss. Rocking softly against each other's thighs, Harry
mapped out Draco's skin with mouth, tongue, and magic.
Arching, Draco closed his eyes, hand caught in Harry's hair as he held the
boy's head tight against his stomach. Warm, tingling, he felt the pleasure
build. * Love you, love you so much, *he babbled.
Harry groaned and plunged his tongue deep into Draco's belly button.
Draco arched with a loud gasp. * Feels so good, Harry. *He gave a soft cry as
Harry's small pink tongue thrust in and out at rapid pace. * Don't stop, yes,
so good! *
Harry pierced the small hole a few more times before sliding his mouth further
down. Gently, he shoved Draco's pants past his hips and stared at the red, sore
skin of Draco's privates. He gently lapped at the soft, tender skin, pressing
in close.
Draco was moaning near constantly now. His hand fisted Harry's hair almost to
the point of pain. His thighs were spread as far as they could while still
trapped in the pants. His head arched back on the pillow, his hair fanned out
gracefully. His long pale lashes brushed his flushed, sweaty cheeks, and his
lips were red and swollen from kisses. Long, slender fingers held Harry's dark
head between his legs as his back arched in pleasure.
Harry groaned, green eyes glowing upward as he watched Draco's reactions. His
hips worked against the mattress more firmly as Draco's thighs suddenly closed
to cradled his shoulders. Twirling his tongue, sucking softly, Harry felt the
edge of the peak that would send them crashing into a pleasure so great, it
would erase everything else.
                                       …
The Asclepius watched, enraptured, as the green energy spiraled and thrust
gently like waves upon a golden shore that sparkled and flared. The two pulsed
in a matching rhythm, and as the intensity grew, amazing levels of energy was
produced. Each pull and thrust, every new spiral, as the energy resonated back
and forth created a loop with an exponential increase.
It could take wizards and witches years to find one with compatible magic, and
then months of study to get this kind of balance, and yet these two had
instinctively fallen into the right mix of give and take. Energy built and
built between them, enough that Asclepius grew concerned, but before he could
leave his trance and speak, the ritual reached it's peak and the energy
exploded outward only to snap back toward the boys.
Asclepius could hear the uncomfortable shuffle of feet as the boys' bodies
reached orgasm. He was more fascinated with the way the powerful energy was
absorbed into the tiny bodies of the children. The boys practically glowed with
the power they had generated, and he watched in fascination as a good portion
of that power was consumed to boost their physical health.
The shadows of illness and injury thinned and disappeared. The rest spilled
over gently into the surrounding environment, saturating it with magic to be
used by any who was able. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever
witnessed.
As the energies of the children stabilized and settled in their normal pattern,
he gasped as he saw a yīnyáng form. Gold locking with green with a safely kept
piece of the opposite shielded within. Classified under twin-bonds, the yīnyáng
was the rarest form of magical bond.
Another tap of his staff and Asclepius came out of his trance. He saw a lot of
blushing faces, some scandalized, others horrified, and a few filled with a
resonant lust. He cleared his throat and those who were not assigned to the
boys' care scattered. The two healers on observation duty stood straighter,
their cheeks growing darker as their embarrassment deepened.
“They boys have understandably fallen into a deep sleep after channeling such
powerful magic. Cast status spells on both. I believe they have been completely
healed by their ritual. I expect a full report on what damage is left within
fifteen minutes. You will find me in with Mr. Lupin.”
“Yes, sir!” the two chorused before hurrying to obey.
                                       …
Remus sat on the side of his bed, hands on his thighs clenched in his hospital
pants. The Asclepius, which was the title given to a healer upon their forty-
ninth year working as a Master, had conjured a chair and sat across from him.
He could hardly believe someone of such enormous prestige and respect was
sitting and talking to him as if it were normal.
“I don't understand,” he rasped.
“As you will most likely act as magical guardian to these children, it is
important that you understand, Mr. Lupin,” Asclepius repeated. He had fogged
hazel eyes and a shock of white hair that seemed to stand on end around his
head in a halo. Face craggy and wrinkled with age, he nonetheless exuded power
and sharp intelligence. “Their bond is extraordinary, and most will
misunderstand their healing ritual, as I just explained.”
“So they're not having sex?” Remus asked dumbly. He felt numb. The trauma and
absent pain still hovered over him like a poisonous cloud. He felt foreign in
his own skin. The idea of Draco and Harry having sex was almost
incomprehensible.
“They are having oral sex, but I doubt they are developed enough for any type
of penetrative intercourse. It is not for the purpose of lust and reproduction,
of course. Biologically, they are not developed enough to have that drive. Due
to their exposure to sex, they somehow figured out that it could be used as a
tool to generate and control energy. I have no words to describe to you the
amount of energy needed to heal the boys of their critical injuries. Such power
could not be raised by normal means, nor could it be easily controlled. They
had the power to level this building, Mr. Lupin, but the ritual prevented that
and allowed the energy to be directed back into their bodies in a safe way.”
Before Remus could respond, a healer stepped into the room. The Asclepius
turned to her and gestured for her to speak.
“Draco's brain is in perfect health, sir. The damage from lack of oxygen has
been reversed. His bones are completely mended and all contusions have been
healed. The burns have disappeared. There is some scar tissue on his sternum
and across his stomach, but it looks years old. He also retains the extensive
old scarring on his back and legs.
“As for Harry, he has been taken off the Breath of Life Spell. His lungs and
respiratory system has been fully repaired. The lacerations and contusions have
been healed. There was no scarring. Their bond is still in evidence and their
vitals are all normal. They are still underweight from long-standing
starvation, but there is evidence that they are slowly recovering from this. ”
“Thank you, Healer,” Asclepius told her perfunctorily and she left once more.
His eyes returned to Remus impatiently. “There. It is as I saw. Your children
are very unique and you must be prepared to deal with that, Mr. Lupin.” Hazel
eyes like lasers, the Asclepius demanded, “Are you ready to fight for them?
Because, as you know, the world is not kind to those who are different.”
Remus felt his back straighten. He was sick of running, from the world and from
himself. Running had left Harry to suffer horribly all alone at the hands of
those who should have been family. Running had led to James and Lily's deaths.
Maybe he would have seen something, been able to change things. Maybe he would
have even been able to stop Sirius, to help him before he'd been driven to
commit such an unforgivable betrayal. The Asclepius was right. No more running.
These were his kids now.
“Yes,” Remus vowed, intent and fierce as he'd never been before. “Yes, I will
protect them.”
“Good.” The Asclepius stood, staff grasped firmly in hand. As he did, a slender
brown snake shifted so that it was staring at Remus as it hung wrapped in
coiled loops around a thick knot three-fourths of the way up the staff.
“Remember that promise, Mr. Lupin. Remember it well.”
                                       …
Draco came awake with a gasp. He was damp with sweat and his heart pounded with
fear. His first instinct was to cover Harry who lay sleeping beside him.
Leaning over the sleeping boy, Draco slowly realized he was in a pale green and
white room. It was nearly empty of furniture except for two long bedside tables
and the bed itself. Slowly, his heart calmed and with trembling fingers he
lifted his shirt to see his chest. He found healed, scarred skin. It didn't
hurt at all. Goosebumps rose on his arms at the gentle pass of his fingers and
he shivered.
“So you have sensation there. That's good.”
Draco's head snapped up and he glared fiercely at the woman. He shifted so that
he hid most of Harry behind him. “Who're you?” he demanded coldly. She wore a
pale green shirt with matching pants, marking her as someone who worked at a
hospital.
“My name is Healer Rosenzweig,” she told him. She made no move to enter the
room. Instead, she stood just outside the doorway. “This is St. Brighid
Northeast Magical Hospital. You were brought here for treatment.”
Draco felt shaky and exhausted, but he let none of it show on his face.
“Remus?”
“He's here as well,” she answered. “May I come in and check your vitals?”
Draco considered refusing. He wanted to curl up with Harry and disappear for a
while. He wanted to talk to no one and deal with nothing, but that wasn't
possible and he wasn't about to fail after they'd come so far and survived so
much. He ruthlessly pushed away his desire to hide and sat straighter, saying,
“Come in.”
She gave him a smile and entered the room. She explained everything she was
doing as she did it. The wooden stick was a wand. It was used to amplify magic
to help achieve more precise or powerful results. Normally she would not use a
wand to check vitals, but after they had healed themselves of the remaining
damage, they wanted more specific and in-depth results. Partly to be certain
everything was as healed as it seemed and partly to understand the boys' magic.
Draco wasn't sure he liked that last part, but he also understood he was in no
position to bargain at the moment. He'd been dying, if not dead, and he'd been
unable to save himself. He was now in a world completely unfamiliar. The most
he could do at this point was watch and learn.
“How'd you find us?” Draco asked as the woman finished running her wand through
the air above his and Harry's bodies. He'd felt nothing really as she cast her
spells. Maybe a little tingle, but nothing significant. He filed that away: he
might not be aware when a spell was cast on him.
She poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. “I believe a Muggle
rescued you. Once free, Remus was able to tear his emergency card to alert the
Aurors. The Aurors sent you to the hospital for immediate emergency treatment.
Had they not, you would not have survived. Only magic could have stabilized and
healed you as quickly as was required for you to keep your life. Then, as you
know, you healed the rest of the damage with your... ritual.”
Ritual? Draco had no idea what she was talking about, but the sudden blush on
her cheeks gave him a hint. Was that what she was calling what he and Harry did
together? It made him smile. Adults were stupid in his opinion and that wasn't
changing now that he was meeting magical people.
“What was Harry's condition?” Draco asked, staring her in the eyes and making
it clear that not answering was not an option. She bit her lip uncertainly.
“Every detail,” he demanded.
“He suffered contusions and lacerations over his torso...”
“No. Not a list of wounds. I want ta know what they did to him. I need ta know
what he went through,” he explained, and when she looked hesitant, he begged.
“Please. How'm I gonna help him if you don't tell me?”
“He was beaten with a flogger for at least a couple hours to get the amount of
bruising he displayed.”
The healer shifted to the side and Remus entered the room. He was limping, but
he made his way smoothly to the bed and sat on the end. He looked exhausted and
there was still evidence of his experience on what Draco could see of the
healing skin on his arms and more obviously on his face. His cheeks looked
thinner and raw, puckered in a wide dimple where no dimple should be.
Draco's fist clenched as useless anger swelled in his gut. “And?”
“It left bone deep bruising and broke his skin in several places,” Remus
continued. “At some point they tied rosaries around his arms and genitals,
tight enough to cut off circulation. If it they had been left on much longer,
he might have lost his hands and balls.”
Draco let out a tight breath. He didn't dare look at Harry, not until the list
was done, so he stared over Remus's shoulder at the wall, eyes and face blank.
“He was sensitive to the tranquilizer and ketamine hydrochloride injections, so
his respiratory system was already compromised with they poisoned him. They
poured a mixture of vinegar and herbs into his mouth and duct taped it closed.
In those quantities, it was toxic and made him ill. He tried to expel it, but
with nowhere to go, he ended up choking near to death. The healers had to cast
spells to help him breathe and they expected his lungs to take a few weeks to
recover before you healed each other.”
Draco couldn't take it any longer. He turned and obsessively ran his hands over
Harry's face, neck, and arms. He even lifted the white shirt Harry wore to
examine his thin chest, a shirt identical to the one Draco was dressed in. He
looked over every inch, even though he knew he'd find nothing. He still had to
check for himself, to see with his own eyes that Harry was well.
“That's what we could tell from the medical reports, but we don't know what
they said to him or the things they did that didn't leave physical marks,”
Remus continued. His voice had gone flat, almost dead sounding. “I'm hoping
that the drugs made his mind fuzzy enough that he won't remember with much
clarity.”
Draco held Harry to him, pulling the still sleeping boy half in his lap, as he
stared at Remus critically. “And you?”
Golden eyes lifted. There was exhaustion and knowledge there. Pain was one
thing, but to know people could be so utterly evil broke something inside,
broke an innate trust you didn't even know was there until it was gone. The
world seemed terrifyingly big after that.
“I'll recover,” the man whispered, not out-right lying but not telling the full
truth, either.
Draco didn't push. He was actually afraid Remus would break if he were pushed
any further. “How'd we escape?”
“A woman.” Remus looked away, posture slouched with exhaustion as he spoke.
“Asian. She killed the Scourers and got me down. I had her bring my wallet
where the Aurors had given me an emergency locator of sorts. I activated it and
we were rescued. She had two friends with her. Another woman and a man. The man
wouldn't leave Harry and actually was brought here with us. I think they still
have him unconscious somewhere, but that won't last much longer.”
Draco ducked his head, tears burning his cheeks. Liam. Liam had found them and
rescued them. Draco had finally found someone, someone who would be there for
him, and they couldn't stay. It was too cruel. “Where's this guy now?”
Remus cocked his head curiously. “You think it's your Liam?”
Draco closed his eyes tight and nodded. “Yeah. It's my Liam.”
A warm hand brushed his shoulder before falling away. “You don't have to go.
They're going to spell him with false memories. He won't remember saying
goodbye.”
Draco opened bleak eyes and said, “But I will. And Harry.” He turned his
attention to his boy. * Harry. It's time to wake up. *
Harry stirred and green eyes blinked open blearily. He immediately latched on
to Draco, practically crawling into the blond's lap as a deep and resonate
sense of – need confusion – poured through the bond.
“Hey,” Draco said gently, brushing his hand down Harry's back. “I'm gonna go
say bye to Liam, you wanna come?”
“Come,” Harry rasped, but from the storm of – fear anxiety confusion– Draco
knew it was because he was afraid to leave Draco's side, not out of any real
desire to see Liam.
Likely, Harry hadn't caught up with the conversation and didn't fully realize
what Draco was proposing, but he didn't stop to explain. It was going to be
hard as hell, but he also knew saying goodbye would be better in the end for
both of them. So he swallowed his tears, took Harry by the hand, and followed
Remus to the room they were keeping his brother.
                                       …
Liam opened his eyes feeling groggy as all hell but with a driving thought to
Get up! Move!,and he quickly pushed himself into a sitting position and swung
his legs over the bed before really seeing where he was.
“Take it slow.”
Liam's head turned quickly toward the sound of that vice and he grinned, tears
burning his eyes as he saw Draco whole and well standing a few feet from him.
Harry was right behind the blond, slightly to the side. He had a hand hooked in
Draco's white cotton shirt. Harry wore an identical shirt and both boys had on
identical white pajama bottoms. The overly sanitized room came into focus, and
Liam realized they were in a hospital, but that didn't matter right now.
“Draco. Harry.” He reached for them, feeling too unsteady to stand. The blond
took his hand and stepped closer so that Liam could pull both boys into a hug.
“Thank god you're okay.”
“Thanks to you,” Draco answered, voice uncharacteristically soft against Liam's
chest. “How'd you find us?”
Liam pushed the boys back just enough so that he could see their faces. Harry
was silent. He was smiling at Liam, but there was darkness in his eyes and his
hand still clung to Draco's shirt. Liam felt his heart break. Harry may look
well, but he wasn't, and neither was Draco. Not after what those bastards had
done to them.
“I tore through the underworld 'til I found someone who knew something. Busted
up a few people doing it. Might be a good idea for us to get out of town,” Liam
confessed with a lopsided smile.
Instead of looking relieved, Draco looked infinitely pained. “Look.”
Liam hated that word. Draco only ever started sentences that way when he was
about to lay down a reality that he knew the other person wasn't going to like.
“Liam.” Draco straightened his back and looked him in the eye. “I don't think
we can stick with ya. Those Scourers, they're not gonna stop 'til we're dead
this time. We've got to stay with magic people and learn how ta protect
ourselves. We need ta learn how ta control this power we have. And you ain't
got magic. It's illegal for us to be with you cause you don't got it an' we do,
so we can't go with ya.”
Liam stared into Draco's serious little face and said, “No.” Grey eyes widened
and, with a grin, Liam said it again. “No. Hard rule. We stay together. I don't
give a shit about those psychos. Don't care about some stupid law. Hell if I'm
going to let that happen! We stick together, Draco. We're family.”
“Look...” Draco tried again.
“No,” Liam said simply, bored.
“Liam...”
“No.”
Fire ignited in Draco's suddenly silver eyes. “Shut the fuck up and listen!
It's not like we want you to go, but what the fuck are we goin' ta' do? They
got magic, Liam. They're gonna make ya think you're happy we're gone. I can't
stop that. You definitely can't stop it. And you may not care about the danger,
but that just means you're a stupid, selfish fuck!”
Draco was panting by this point, fists clenched, cheeks red. “I sure as hell
fuckin' care!” he yelled angrily. “Care what it'll do to us if we have'ta watch
you die like we did Brendon! Care that sticking together might end up getting
us all killed!”
Liam reached forward and hugged Draco tightly to his chest. Harry pressed up
against Draco's back, up against Liam's arms. Through them, he could feel Harry
trembling. His shirt grew damp where Draco's face was pressed against his
shoulder, and Liam realized in horror that Draco was crying. Hell, Liam was
crying, too.
“Shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Draco. You're right.”
Draco was a little kid forced to grow up too fucking soon. He'd been tortured
and brutalized and dehumanized, and yet he'd come out of it with his heart
battered but unbroken. It wasn't fair to keep putting the hard decisions on
him. Liam was an adult. He had to start acting like it.
“Fuck, I love you guys. So damn much,” he whispered into Draco's ear, knowing
Harry could hear him.
The dark-haired boy began to sob, loud and heartbreaking like only a kid could.
Liam pushed Draco away and ruffled Harry's hair. “Hey, none of that. I'm sure
you guys are going to go on awesome adventures and do kickass magic, right? I'm
going to be alright, Harry. Really. You guys helped me out a lot. We're always
going to be family, even if we don't see each other again. Family, real family,
they stay in here with us always.”
Liam placed his hand flat against Harry's chest over his heart. He offered him
his best smile, knowing the kid wouldn't be able to see though it.
Draco grabbed his other hand and pressed it flat on his own chest, mirroring
Harry. Liam could feel the flesh there was just slightly raised and uneven with
scar tissue. He wouldn't have noticed except the vision of Draco's burns were
forever engraved behind his eyes.
Simultaneously the boys lifted a hand (Draco's left, Harry's right) and pressed
them flat on Liam's chest. “You saved us,” Draco told him solemnly. It was said
with a wealth of meaning, telling him that Draco would never forget.
Liam's lips trembled.
“I love you, Liam,” Harry said with a simple honesty that was just so him.
Honest, pure, open; he was the most generous and loving person Liam had ever
met.
Tears slipped down his cheeks, but Liam forced his smile to hold. The truth was
he couldn’t even fathom life without his brothers now. The nine months they'd
been together had changed him utterly. He wanted to beg them not to do this, to
find some way to make it work, tell them that he had nothing left but them.
He'd ruined his place in the mob. In fact, he probably had a price on his head.
Those evil religious psychos knew about the club, had been watching it for
months, so that was out. So was the apartment. Brendon was dead. Now Draco and
Harry were leaving him. But Draco was right. What the fuck could they do? These
magic bastards wouldn't let Liam stay, and Draco and Harry had to go with them.
But who would watch their backs? Fuck, he hated this!
He pushed on their chests hard enough to make them back-step. They had to go.
Now. Or he wasn't going to have the strength to follow through. He'd grab hold
of them and throw a tantrum like a little kid, screaming 'It's not fair! I
don't wanna!' on the top of his lungs. And then Draco would have to step up and
carry the burden alone once more. He'd have to be the adult. No. Liam was going
to do this right. For Draco.
“See ya around, kiddos,” he said as lightly as he could. “Maybe we'll run into
each other again in a few years and you can fill me in on all of your
adventures.”
Crying, Harry curled into Draco's side, pressing his face against the blond's
shoulder. He looked so small in Draco's arms.
Draco mirrored Liam's fake smile and gave a wave. “Bye, Liam. Thank you.”
“Bye,” he whispered back and watched the boys walk out of the room, Draco's arm
firmly around Harry. Throat burning with rage and grief, he looked to the gold-
eyed man who they rescued with the boys. “You better fucking keep them safe,”
he spat, fierce and bitter. “You hear me? Keep them safe!”
The man met his eyes solemnly before giving a nod. Then he left, leaving Liam
behind to scream and rage before spells pulled him down into unconsciousness.
Chapter end.
A/N:(cries!) I really tried. I know you won't believe me, but the story kept
driving here again and again no matter how I tried to get around it.
Please let me know your thoughts. Thanks for reading!
 
***** Mine *****
                                     Mine
The boys had said goodbye to their Liam only yesterday, Remus still felt odd in
his own skin, and Harry was a constant worry, the boy not doing well. He had no
idea what to do about any of it, so when he felt the mirror vibrate, shrunk and
stored in his wallet, he felt even more trapped.
Floo didn't work overseas – large bodies of water, especially running water,
disrupted most magic. The mirrors were a testament to Dumbledore's ingenuity,
but they took a massive amount of power, thus the professor only activated it
monthly. So Remus knew there was no way he could get out of answering the
summons. But what was he going to tell Dumbledore?
Excusing himself, he left the boys and went to his room. He spelled the door
with a locking charm, and then he hung the nearly twelve inch mirror on the
wall. As soon as Dumbledore's face came into focus, his smile melted into a
frown.
“Remus, my boy! Are you well?”
Remus decided the best way to approach this was with a business-like manner. “I
made contact with Harry and the boy he is with, but during the meet up,
Scourers tranquilized and captured us. They held us prisoner for twenty-four
hours.” His eyes shuttered, becoming cold. “We were not treated well.”
Dumbledore tilted his head so he could look over his half-moon glasses and make
eye contact. “I am sorry to hear that, my boy,” he said gently. “How are the
children? Is there anything I can do?”
“They were healed of the physical damage, but we are not quite recovered,”
Remus answered truthfully, but he was not ready to talk about what he'd
experienced in that basement. “The boys have a bond, Professor. The Asclepius
says it's very powerful and trifold - magical, psychic, and spiritual - A type
of twin-bond. Harry will not come without Draco, and considering Draco is an
American Muggleborn, paperwork and things have to be completed and approved by
President Smackhammer before Draco will be allowed to leave the country in my
custody. I will keep you abreast of the progress over here, but I don't expect
we will be returning within the next month.”
Dumbledore's frown deepened and his hand came into view as he stroked his beard
thoughtfully. “I see. So the boy's name is Draco?”
“Draco Black, sir.”
Dumbledore observed him a moment longer before speaking. “Let me know if you
need anything, my boy. You have Hogwarts' full support behind you.”
Remus ducked his head, hiding the mixed emotions the statement stirred. “Thank
you, Professor.”
The mirror fogged and then the connection was lost.
“You are stalling your return?”
Remus spun so fast he almost toppled over as his still healing leg threatened
to collapse.
President Smackhammer stood with his back to the door. How he had entered and
spelled the door locked again all without Remus knowing was a mystery.
“Harry needs time,” Remus rasped, hands shaking from the fright. “England will
be good for him, but it will also be complicated. He doesn't need complicated
right now.”
The president gestured Remus to sit on the bed and he did so gratefully. “I
approve. In fact, that is why I sought you out. The boys are physically well
enough to leave the hospital. I'd like to suggest you three go on a brief
retreat before returning to your country. Lusio Village is one of the few above
ground, fully magical communities in North America, and I can promise it is
very safe. I believe you will find the balance you seek there.”
It wasn't like Remus had a better idea. All he knew was that none of them were
ready to face the Wizarding World just yet. Lusio sounded as good as anywhere,
he supposed. “Thank you, sir.”
President Smackhammer gave him a nod of acknowledgement and left the room,
saying, “I will make the arrangements.”
                                       …
Draco stroked Harry's hair as the boy sat pressed against his side. They were
eating dinner, sitting on their hospital bed with spelled trays. Harry ate
silently, green eyes dark behind his glasses and his hair more limp than usual.
He spoke if he must but as little as possible and only to Draco. He would go
hours without making a sound if Draco didn't prompt him. He also refused to be
separated from Draco. They went to the bathroom together, slept together,
walked together – always within arm's reach.
Draco didn't mind per-say, but he was not happy with the near constant thrum of
anxiety running through the bond. He didn't know how to fix it. He couldn't
demand for Harry to trust that he was safe, that Draco would protect him. He
had already broken that promise horribly. So where did that leave them?
The door opened and Draco watched Remus enter. Just like before, the man limped
across the room and sat at the end of the bed.
Remus kept his eyes on his lap. He felt surprisingly ambiguous about returning
home, and he hoped Draco didn't see it in his eyes. “I told Professor
Dumbledore we will be held up here in America for at least another month. Let
us get our breath back before we return to England, ya?”
Draco shrugged. Now that Liam was gone, it didn't really matter, did it? But
Remus seemed relieved they weren't heading straight back to England. It was
something Draco made note of. If England wasn't a good place for them, he'd
make sure they never made that trip.
Remus gave a smile, eyes up now that the news had been given. “We leave in the
morning. To a small, isolated village in California, I believe, where we'll be
safe. We'll stay there for a time while we get everything ready for the move.”
Draco had no idea where California was. “Can I see a map?”
“Of course. Also, the Asclepius has recommended we take with us a mind-healer.”
He tipped his head slightly in Harry's direction.
Draco hated that he wasn't enough to help Harry, but he wouldn't let his
jealously and possessiveness prevent Harry from having what he needed to be
well. Stiff and reluctant, he nodded his head, demanding, “I wanna interview
the healer first.”
Remus looked surprised. “That's a good idea. I'll set it up.” He stood, still
favoring his left leg and said, “Sleep well.”
Draco watched him go thoughtfully. Remus was a good resource. He was clearly on
their side, but he was full of secrets. There were shadows in his eyes, more
than what the Scourers had put there, and Draco didn't know how far they could
really trust him.
“Draco?” Harry whispered, clutching at his sleeve.
“It's fine. Let's get some sleep.”
Sighing, he lay down and pulled Harry into his arms. The boy fell asleep
quickly, but Draco couldn't rest. He had so much to figure out, and he wasn't
sure how to go about it. It brought back the moist walls of the Hold and the
numb endurance he'd cultivated as he barely survived, waiting for the right
moment to escape. He'd go through that again if he had to, but Harry...
Whimpers rose beside him as Harry began to cry in his sleep. Draco rocked him,
shushing his nightmare away. It took nearly an hour before the boy was sleeping
peacefully once more. Heart heavy with nearly overwhelming responsibility,
Draco stared through the darkness as he pet Harry's hair. He had to figure out
a way to keep Harry safe, to make things good again, and it had to be soon. If
the tension lasted much longer, he was afraid Harry was going to shatter and
not even Draco would be able to save him.
                                       …
The next morning Draco interviewed mind-healers. He went through ten before
settling on the eleventh candidate. Laila Madison had a small waist, big hips
and breasts, and white teeth in her dark face. Her hair hung in dreadlocks down
her back to her waist with gold pieces and beads were threaded throughout. Her
eyes were bright with intelligence and humor while also being soft with
compassion. She wore a loose flowery blouse, faded jeans, and a battered pair
of sneakers. She was definitely the brightest and most exotic of all the
candidates.
“You'll do,” Draco declared, making her smile.
“Why, thank you, young sir,” she said playfully and winked at him. If there had
been any condescension in her voice, she'd be gone, but there was an
undercurrent of sincere respect in her playful tone. She looked at Harry who
was still pressed close to Draco's side, and her face softened as did her
voice. “I look forward to spending some time with you. Maybe I'll even teach
you my secret cocoa recipe.”
Harry pressed his face shyly against Draco's shoulder.
Remus pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against and offered her his
hand. “Thank you for joining us, Ms. Madison. We have the portkey ready
whenever you are.”
“Please call me Laila. I'm not really the Miss type,” she said warmly, shaking
his hand and then patting her purse. “I always try to be prepared, Mr. Lupin.
I'm ready.”
“Just Remus is fine, Laila.” He took out a large key from the satchel he wore
across his body. The key was about half as long as a ruler and made from
tarnished brass. He looked to the boys. “This is a portkey. You have to touch
it and then we'll be transported to Lusio Village.”
Draco's eyes went wide while Harry clutched even harder at the back of Draco's
sweater. “Will it hurt?” Draco asked in response to Harry's – nervous fear.
“The most that will happen is that you feel a bit nauseous,” Remus reassured.
“I love portkeys,” Laila added. She placed two fingers firmly against the key
and gave them a grin. “It's better than a rollercoaster.”
Draco had never been on a rollercoaster, but he did know people went on them
for fun. Reaching behind him, he unhooked Harry's fingers from his sweater and
held the boy's hand tightly, pulling him closer to the group. They'd been given
some clothes that morning. They were their own, and a healer had informed them
that their things had been removed from Liam's place. The rest would be waiting
at Lusio.
Shaking his head and focusing on the now, Draco touched the key and jerked his
head at Harry, telling him to do the same. Trembling, Harry obediently put his
hand on the neck of the key. His wide, green eyes never left Draco's face.
“Portus,” Remus said firmly.
Draco gave a cry as they were pulled off their feet and flung through the air.
It seemed to last forever and just a second at the same time. His stomach rose
and fluttered as if he were falling, and suddenly he was flung down and sliding
across the ground on a thin layer of mud.
Cold rain hit his face and he sat up, wiping it away from his eyes. Harry was a
few feet from him, pushing up on his hands and knees. His whole front was
coated in mud; half his face was plastered with the stuff. Remus was on his
back, much like Draco, while Laila was on one knee, grinning in triumph from
having escaped a fall.
“Draco...” Harry's eyes were wide as he tugged off his glasses. He was on both
knees and held his hands out away from his body with a look of shock, mud
dripping off them.
Draco pushed unsteadily to his feet and went to the boy's side. Their feet slid
and slipped underneath them as Draco tried to get Harry up, and they both fell
on their butts, making Remus smile and Laila laugh. Harry flinched and tried to
hide from the attention, but Draco just ignored them. He used the front of his
sweater to wipe the glasses clean and helped Harry wipe his face off, too.
There was still dirt smeared across Harry's cheek and in his hair, but the
majority of it slid off.
“Come on, boys,” Laila called, twisting her dreads into a ponytail. “We'll
catch our death in this rain. I don't know about you, but it's cold out here.”
Harry's hand held firmly in his own, Draco took a good look around for the
first time since their muddy landing. Massive trees larger around than a house
surrounded them. The bark was a red-brown color and looked like it could peel
off, like the cheese sticks Liam had bought once. Tilting his head back, he
couldn't even begin to see the tops of the massive trees, the leaves a light
green and feathery high above their heads.
Cold rain murmured and hissed as it fell gently through the leaves and hit the
large ferns that covered the ground. It smelled like rain, green things, and
rich dirt. Here and there he could see fallen trees, and a thick green carpet
of moss coated them. Fog shrouded the forest, creating a dream-like aura. Draco
could definitely believe they were in a magical place.
Suddenly, Harry gasped and pointed to the right. They all turned to see small
golden lights lifting from the large, soft ferns growing all around them. The
lights zipped and dipped lazily. Soon there were at least a dozen, and Draco
thought he could hear the barely-there tinkle of tiny bells.
“Fairies,” Remus told them. “They're harmless as long as you don't let them
form a circle around you or eat anything they give you. I suspect they're our
guides to the village.” He took out his wand and cast an umbrella charm at all
of them before drying their clothes.
“Thanks,” Draco said, surprised as no more rain fell on him. He looked up and
saw the rain fall off a small invisible shield above his head.
Quietly, they followed the little lights, staying in a line as they made their
way through the forest. Draco and Harry tried to look everywhere at once.
Neither of them had really been in nature before. It was all so amazing.
Without much warning, they pushed through some bushes and found themselves in a
large clearing. There were small, cute houses scattered about painted in sage
greens, dark browns, and cream. Small dirt pathways ran here and there through
emerald green grass. They were almost to the village center where there was a
large wooden statue of a half bird, half lion – Remus called it a gryphon –
when a woman in mountain boots, jeans, and a sweater came out on her porch.
“You must be Mr. Lupin!” she called with a smile. “I'm Cindy Hills! Come in.
I'll be your neighbor while you're here.”
Remus glanced at Draco who gave him a shrug. The four of them trooped up to her
porch and she clapped her hands with a look of concentration on her face. The
mud and water suddenly fell away from them one at a time as she clapped her
hands four times.
She smiled. “I hate sweeping. Best to prevent it from coming in at all!”
Brushing her dark brown hair off her face, she held her door wide open. “The
kitchen's to the right. Have a seat at the table and I'll make you hot tea. I
heard you're from England, and I know how you folk love tea.”
The kitchen was done in white and yellow with red here and there. Draco looked
around in interest before Harry's anxiety grabbed his attention. He was
watching Cindy make the tea. Draco took his hand and gave it a warm squeeze.
* You can help out at our place, okay? *
Harry ducked his head,.
“I've been at Lusio for about a year now. It's really a great place,” she
chatted. “I think you'll like it.”
“Thank you,” Remus offered as she passed him a steaming mug.
She gave him a big smile. “No problem.” She finished handing out everyone's
tea. “I'm thinking of moving to a small town in Maine next month. There's a job
out there at a magical museum. I've always loved art. A bit of a fanatic,
really, and they need someone to organize the pieces and write a bit about each
one.”
“That sounds like a mighty fine job,” Laila said supportively.
“Right?” Cindy gave a little laugh. “I'm excited, but nervous, too, you know?
Lusio is so amazing. It'll be hard to leave. It's so peaceful here. Anyway,
they prepared the house next door for you, like I said. There's no real
schedules here. You just do what you feel like. They have little activities and
stuff of course, if you feel like joining. Like bracelet making or dance. It's
kinda like being at camp. Oh! And theirs morning class for kids so they don't
get behind on their school work.” She turned her smile on Draco and Harry.
“Listen to me prattle on. I didn't even let you introduce yourself!”
“Draco Black,” Draco offered and tilted his head toward his boy. “Harry
Potter.”
Cindy's mouth fell open and she stared at Harry's forehead as if she could see
through his bangs. “Is he really?” she squeaked.
Harry stared at the table, refusing to look anyone in the face, and Draco
glared at her warningly as he put a protective around the his boy's shoulders.
“You can call me Remus,” Remus offered, breaking the tension and grabbing
Cindy's attention.
Laila caught on and added her own boisterous voice. “And I'm Laila Madison.
It's a pleasure, Cindy Hills.”
“Well!” Cindy finally pulled her eyes off of Harry, but she kept sending him
little glances as she talked to the adults. “I've been watching for you, but
when the rain started, I got distracted trying to get my cat inside. She's a
silly little thing. Sorry I didn't meet you at the clearing. Anyway, I have
your house keys here.” She got up and bustled to a drawer, opening it and
pulling out a key ring. It had a large four-leaf-clover hanging from it. “Here
you go. If you need anything, please let me know. Oh! In the village center is
a board that posts all the activities if you're interested. Also, there's a
mess hall if you want to eat with others for dinner, but your other meals
you'll have to work out for yourself.”
“We'll keep that in mind. Thank you again,” Remus said politely and pushed to
his feet. Draco and Harry moved to his side.
“Oh! I'm sure you're anxious to get settled in.” She blushed and tried to catch
Harry's eyes. “Sorry for keeping you. Here, let me show you the way.” Cindy
darted out the kitchen door and they had to hurry to follow her.
They went down a side path lined in short dark green bushes and soon came to a
pale cream house with blue trim. Remus used the key to open the back door and
they found themselves in a nearly identical kitchen, except this one was
painted white with blue accents here and there.
Draco left Remus and Laila with Cindy. Towing Harry by the hand, he moved down
a short hallway that opened into a living room. Creams walls, brown furniture,
and dark green carpet - the room had a natural feel that echoed the forest that
surrounded them. Two big couches sat around a fireplace. Art pieces decorated
the walls but had no people in them, instead depicting animals in natural
scenes.
Draco headed for the stairs. Harry was trembling and he was anxious to figure
out why.
There was a bathroom and two bedrooms upstairs. Harry's anxiety spiked when
they stepped into the bigger one, so Draco chose the smaller one for them. It
was done in white and soft peach. It reminded Draco painfully of Brendon, but
he forced that down. He sat Harry on the bed and knelt in front of him.
“Talk to me,” Draco ordered, voice low. He stared up into Harry's flushed face,
hating to see the boy's cheeks wet with tears.
“Draco...” Harry whimpered and tried to look away.
Draco reached up and forced Harry's face back around to stare into his eyes.
“Tell me, Harry. Now.”
“A-aunt and U-uncle... They lived... in a house like this...” he whispered –
self-hate anxiety despair.
“Did they?” Draco said thoughtfully, absorbing Harry's emotions. “Well, you
aren't that boy anymore.”
- disbelief pain confusion –Harry's tears fell faster and he reached for Draco,
but Draco pulled away, standing. Harry stared up at him desperately.
“Are you mine, Harry?” Draco asked softly, sincerely. “Do you still want to be
mine?”
“Yes, Draco!” - desperation fear need -“Yours!” But then his emotions took a
weird swing and the boy curled in on himself, leaning away from Draco. Draco
grit his teeth and forced himself to hold still to hear Harry's words. “But...
I'm bad... evil...”
Insanity began to tickle against Draco's mind and he did the only thing he
could. He slapped Harry across the face. The boy gasped, falling sideways on
the bed. Draco leaned forward and pushed the boy onto his back. Lifting his
hand, he pressed his palm against Harry's throat. The boy went limp – hope
–surging up the bond.
“No, Harry. No.”
It was all he could say. He didn't know how to stop the darkness from consuming
them. He knew Harry needed something, but he didn't know what. Draco was
panting, furious at himself for not having the answer that Harry needed. He
glared down into the boy's tear-stained face.
Harry actually pressed up slightly against his hand, making him cut off Harry's
air. Draco hissed quietly and leaned more of his weight down. Harry's face
flushed red, his mouth gaped, but his eyes remained bright with need.
“Mine,” Draco said, voice quiet but hard as steel. “You. Are. Mine.”
Something caught his eye. The closet door was open a crack and he saw a
familiar backpack. Suddenly, he smiled. He pressed even harder with his hand,
making Harry's body arch against him for a moment before Draco let him go.
Harry lay limp, coughing as he tried to gasp in air.
“I want you to close your eyes, Harry.”
Harry obeyed, flushed and sweaty.
“Now I want ya ta'think real loud in your head, I belong to Draco. Keep
thinking it 'til I tell ya to stop.”
Harry did as he was told, shouting in his mind: I belong to Draco!
At first, he felt unworthy. I belong to Draco!Draco who was strong and
beautiful, who was so smart. I belong to Draco!The more he said it, Harry
suddenly felt something change. I belong to Draco!He remembered all the times
Draco had needed him. To heal him, to hold him. I belong to Draco!It was his
job to take care of Draco. I belong to Draco! He would make Harry more than he
was. He would make Harry better. I belong to Draco!He would give Harry purpose
and make him useful.
Slowly, Draco came into focus in his mind's eye. Soft blond hair tucked behind
his ears, bright grey eyes, pale skin and pink lips. He was naked in Harry's
mind. The scars on his chest giving his skin new texture. He was strong and
powerful. It made Harry feel warm to imagine those grey eyes going silver and
pinning him with that intense look Draco got.
“Who do ya belong to?”
“Draco,” Harry said with certainty, still staring into the imagined Draco's
eyes.
“Open your eyes.”
Draco was kneeling over him, knees on either side of Harry's body. His eyes
were silver and intense, just like in Harry's mind, and they stared down deep
into Harry's soul. “I belong to Draco,” he said without thinking.
Draco grinned and Harry felt his stomach flutter at the utter happiness on the
blond's face. “Yes.”
“I belong to Draco,” he said again, breathlessly.
“Good boy,” Draco purred and bent down to lay a gentle kiss on his lips.
Harry whimpered.
“Again,” Draco whispered, breath ghosting over his face.
“I belong to Draco.” - This time it was said like a prayer and tears filled his
eyes.
Draco kissed him deeper this time. “Yes. You do. Forever. For always. Mine.”
“Yes,” Harry gasped tearfully, joysinging in his heart. “Yours.”
Something touched Harry's neck. Harry's eyes went wide and he held his breath.
It was slightly rough but soft, too. It slid around his throat and he heard a
soft clink, felt a tug, and then it was pulled snug against his skin... A
collar, his collar. It was as if the world clicked back into focus and Harry
could truly breathe at last.
Draco's tongue thrust into his mouth, and Harry gave a cry from deep in his
gut, his heart racing in his chest. He flung his arms around Draco, his whole
body shuddering as the dam inside his chest finally broke. The tangled mess in
his head finally began to unravel as Draco sucked, and licked, and kissed him
as if he were going to swallow Harry whole.
Harry poured everything he was down the bond and into that kiss – joy grief
trust love fear doubt submission need self-hatred –He felt like he was flying
even as Draco's body pressed him firmly down. I belong to Draco! I belong to
Draco!He thought it again and again, each time it made him feel more free, more
human. It felt like days they lay there kissing as Harry cried everything out,
but really it wasn't longer than an hour. The tears finally came to a stop as
he fell asleep curled up against Draco's body, a smile gracing his lips.
Draco lay on his side facing him, petting Harry's hair. He felt too energized
to sleep. The euphoric rush of Harry giving up everything still sang in his
blood. He gently ran his fingers through the boy's hair only to come to a stop
as his fingers hit the thick red collar at the back of Harry's neck. Draco felt
warm with the knowledge that Harry needed to be his just as much as Draco
needed Harry. He cupped his hand over the collar on Harry's throat and slid
down to lay a kiss on it.
“I love you, Harry,” he whispered, eyes brightening to silver. “I'll do better.
I promise.”
Chapter end.
A/N:Okay. Things are a little rocky still. Any suggestions on how Remus could
bond with the boys? They're going to be pretty closed off after saying goodbye
to Liam. :(
 
***** Jungle *****
                                    Jungle
It was an hour before sunrise and Remus was making his first cup of tea when
the boys wandered into the kitchen. They'd gone up to bed as soon as they'd
arrived at around four o'clock in the afternoon yesterday and never came down
for dinner, so he wasn't surprised they were awake so early. Then his eyes
caught on the red collar at Harry's throat.
Before Remus could really react, Harry gave him a shy smile. “Good morning.”
Surprised, Remus answered back, “Morning.”
He watched the small boy move gracefully around the kitchen while exploring
cupboards and drawers. It didn't take long for Harry to find the spelled cold
cabinet that served the same function as a refrigerator, the boy giving a
surprised little gasp. It didn't hold him up long, however, and soon he was
pulling things out to cook for breakfast.
Feeling eyes on him, Remus turned to see Draco, who had taken a seat at the
kitchen table, watching him, his chin resting on his folded arms.
“Harry likes to cook,” the boy offered, still watching for something.
“Okay,” he said carefully and slowly sat in the chair across from him. Draco
finally blinked, his eyes shifting to Harry, and Remus allowed himself to relax
a little.
Harry hummed as he cooked, and he felt a pang as he remembered Lily doing the
same when she was happy or content. Inexplicably, the air of defeat that had
shrouded the boy was gone and his eyes were no longer a dark, dull green. Remus
didn't understand what had caused such a drastic change so quickly, but he knew
– as baffling as it was – that the collar was a part of it.
Harry wearing a collar, maybe even wanting one, was not a good thing, but Remus
felt too numb to even think about going there right now. Honestly, after the
Scourers a lot of things just didn't seem as important or urgent, and it was
hard to be against something when, for the first time since he'd been reunited
with Harry, the boy was smiling and at ease. Therefore, Remus sat silently
instead of asking about it. He chose to bask in Harry's happy mood as the boy
cooked instead, and in less than an hour, they had plates of scrambled eggs,
toast, and sausage in front of them.
Remus watched thoughtfully as Draco tapped Harry's plate to get the boy to eat
instead of just watching Remus and Draco do so. He also noticed the pleasure in
Harry's eyes when Draco complimented the food and ate every bite. Remus
couldn't help feeling warmed by the innocence of the scene.
The sun was beginning to rise, the sky flushing pink and orange, when they
finished. Harry stood and took their dishes to the sink to be washed, and Remus
prepared his second cup of tea. Draco returned to his slouched position with
his chin sitting on his arms.
“Good morning, everyone!” Laila called cheerfully, stepping into the kitchen in
a colorful blue and green polka-dot blouse and black jeans. Her feet were still
bare. “I see we're a bunch of morning people.”
“Morning,” Harry said, shyly smiling. He quickly brought her a plate that had
been warming in the oven and a cup of coffee as Remus and Draco greeted her.
She took the plate with a smile and thanked Harry sincerely, praising his
skills. Blushing fiercely, Harry went back to the dishes.
“So what's the plan for today?” Draco's asked, staring at Remus once again.
“I'm not sure there is one.” Remus looked to Laila questioningly.
“Each of you should have a short session everyday, but it's up to you three
when.” She addressed Draco when she added, “I'd prefer it if we were alone
during that time.”
Draco lifted his head, his posture going straight as he considered it. After
only a moment, he answered, “After lunch, I'll go first, alone, but I'll be in
the room for Harry's session.”
Remus winced as the blond very openly challenged her with his eyes, but Laila
only nodded.
“Very well.” She looked to Remus. “When would you prefer our session?”
He sighed but knew better than to decline in front of the boys. He didn't want
it to seem like that was an option. “I suppose the sooner the better.”
“I want to know more about England and magic,” Draco said casually, but his
expression was far too intent for that to be true. Remus had a sudden
premonition that Draco was going to be a very demanding student. “But first I
think we'll go exploring. Ready, Harry?”
“Yes, Draco.” Harry dried his hands on a towel and hurried to the kitchen door,
Draco close on his heels. They were both grinning in excitement.
“Be careful,” Remus called, but the boys were already gone.
Dark eyes suddenly fathomless, Laila asked gently, “Are you ready, Remus?”
Remus sighed again but nodded. “Let's take this to the living room, then, shall
we?”
“Good idea,” she agreed and gently squeezed his shoulder before leading the
way.
                                       …
Draco guided them straight into the forest. It was mid-November, and the map
Remus had showed him put Lusio on the other side of America from New York but
about as high. It was colder here, but not by a huge amount. A long-sleeved t-
shirt under heavy sweaters, jeans, and thick socks inside their sneakers was
enough to keep them warm.
They walked aimlessly for about an hour. Draco couldn't get enough of the sweet
air. It filled his lungs and made him feel like he was flying. The soft golden
light filtering through the canopy and the silence were magical. The massive
trees and beautiful ferns created a sheltering wall, while they traveled up and
down the hilly slopes that were slick with fallen leaves and soft, dark earth.
Flinging his arms wide, he spun in a circle, only to be tackled to the soft
ground by a giggling Harry.
Draco lay unresisting on his back with Harry straddling his hips. “Ya know,
it's been about a year since we met,” he said softly, reaching up and brushing
Harry's hair off his face with a gentle hand.
Harry smiled down at him. “I feel different from then,” he admitted and touched
the collar with gentle, reverent fingertips.
Draco sat up carefully – He didn't want to dislodge Harry – and wrapped his
arms around him. “Me, too. I'm so happy I got you, Harry.”
Harry melted against him with a sigh –peace content love.
They sat like that for a long minute, Harry's legs folded on either side of
Draco's hips, pressed tight front-to-front as Draco's legs bent slightly to
cradle Harry's smaller body. They fit together so perfectly. Draco rested his
cheek on Harry's soft, thick hair and just breathed in the peaceful moment.
“You think Liam's okay?”
Draco pulled back enough to look into Harry's eyes. “Ya mean 'cause of the
mob?” When Harry nodded, – worry grief – flickering though the bond, Draco gave
a reassuring smile. “Course he is. He knows how'ta take care of himself, plus
he's got Jess and Drey. They'll knock sense into him if they have'ta. I know
Liam didn't want to leave New York, but he knows better than to stick around.
He'll go somewhere and make a fresh start.”
Harry gazed trustingly into Draco's eyes. “How come he couldn't come with us?”
“Well...” Draco pulled Harry in close, unable to look into Harry's sorrowful
eyes, and rested his chin on the top his head again. “It's against the law for
someone like Liam to be with us cause we're magical. And in England... There's
Scourers there, but different. Here they're normal and hurt magical people,
right? Well, in England, they're magical and hurt normal people. It's not safe.
We couldn't hold up against Scourers, and we have magic! No way will Liam be
able to protect himself against the Scourers who have magic. He's better off
without us right now.” Heart aching, Draco added in a quiet voice. “Maybe...
Maybe later, though. When we get stronger and older. Maybe we can find him
again.”
There were other reasons, too, that Liam was better off away from them, but
Draco didn't think it wasn't time yet to tell Harry about that. About the evil
wizard that would be after them or about Harry's fame. They weren't even in
England yet and their neighbor had known about Harry, had looked for the scar.
Harry's mind was still fragile and healing; he didn't need to know. Not yet.
Besides, Draco wanted a much better understanding of the situation before he
tried to lay it out for Harry.
“Come on. Let's see if we can catch a fairy.” Draco gently pushed Harry off his
lap and got to his feet, forcing a grin.
Harry smiled gamely back and chased after Draco as he ran off into the forest.
                                       …
Remus felt wrung out. He'd thought he knew all his weaknesses. He hadn't. Laila
had mercilessly made him face himself again and again. Normally, he'd run
screaming with self-hatred as he was shown mistake after mistake, all due to
his faulty self-perspective. He wasn't even allowed that. Laila made it very
clear that he had all the tools he needed to be a strong, independent person.
If he did anything less than face himself and get back on his feet, it was due
to laziness and fear, not inability.
Needless to say, he felt scraped raw and weak. He'd retreated to the kitchen,
abandoning Laila's implacable, compassionate stare. He'd stood, shaking and
shaken, arms wrapped around his torso in the middle of the room, lost. He'd
taken one step toward the door, heart beating fiercely in his chest, the urge
to run run runscreaming in his mind, when Draco and Harry tumbled into the
kitchen.
They were dirt-smeared with leaves and twigs tangled in their hair. Large,
childish smiles adorned their faces; their eyes were bright. They looked like
happy kids for the first time since Remus had known them. It slowed his pulse
and steadied his legs. Harry, slightly breathless and grinning, began to put
together lunch. Draco, meanwhile, planted himself in front of him, eyes bright.
He was as fierce as Remus had never been.
“That bad?” he asked, staring Remus down in spite of standing only a few inches
taller than Remus's waist. He had to look up to hold Remus's gaze, but it was
Remus who felt somehow smaller.
Pale, running a still shaking hand through his hair, Remus gave a weak smile.
“It wasn't what I expected.”
The little boy met his eyes, expression cold. It was a challenge, pure and
simple, and Remus felt something deep inside stir, but he had no chance to
respond. Draco bounded past him as only a child can do and began to wash his
hands at the sink. Harry had already done so before ever touching the food. The
two boys chattered at each other while Draco washed up and then fell
comfortably silent when Draco finished and took a seat at the table.
Remus had no idea what to make of any of it. He still felt shattered, but at
least he no longer wanted to run out the door. Shaking his head, he took down
glasses and filled them with milk. Harry finished the sandwiches and small
salads, and together they brought the food to the table.
“Where's Laila?” Draco asked after taking a big bite. He smiled at Harry and
ran a hand through his hair, making the little boy practically glow with
happiness.
“She said she'd eat in the mess hall. She'll be back in time for your session,”
Remus answered. He's eye caught once more on the red collar at Harry's throat.
He wondered what he could do about it, wondered if Laila would address it
instead, and immediately recognized that for the weakness it was when before
Laila he wouldn't have known, would have made excuses or rationalizations, for
why it shouldn't be him to broach the topic.
Still, even knowing he was being weak by hoping someone else would handle it,
he couldn't bring himself to talk about it. Miserable and trying to hide it,
Remus ate, only speaking up to compliment Harry. It made him feel marginally
better when Harry gave him a bright smile, green eyes happy behind his glasses.
Harry and Remus were cleaning up when Laila stepped into the kitchen through
the side door. She looked perky and cheerful, her dreads falling neatly down
her back and over her shoulders, her dark eyes bright, as if the morning
session hadn't torn him apart. Remus avoided her eyes, staring into the sink
with a dishrag in hand as Harry continued to wash.
“Ready, Draco?” he heard her ask.
He heard the scrape of a chair against the floor: Draco standing. “Sure,” the
boy answered, fearless and unconcerned.
Remus lifted his head, catching and holding Laila's gaze. “Go easy on him,” he
rasped.
She gave him a kind smile. “I'll go as easy as he needs,” she promised.
Harry had stopped washing and was looking around at them, his face creased in
worry.
Draco stepped up to the boy and ruffled his hair. “Don't worry, Harry. I'm just
gonna talk to Laila. She's here ta make sure we feel better after what
happened. Isn't that right?”
Grey eyes pierced him and Remus flinched. “Yes,” he said weakly. “She's here to
help.”
“But you already make me feel better, Draco,” Harry spoke, ignoring Remus, his
eyes on Draco alone.
The blond gave a smile and kissed his cheek. “I'll always make you feel
better,” he promised. “Laila is just gonna help is all. Okay?”
“Okay,” Harry gave in, trust written across his face for all to see.
Draco ruffled Harry's hair one more time and strode from the room. Laila gave
them a saucy wink that had Harry giggling. Remus tried to shake off his worry,
but he caught himself frowning. To distract himself, he glanced to the side to
see Harry done washing the dishes and beginning to clean the counters.
“Do you want to hear a story while we work?” he asked without thinking.
Green eyes peered up at him, Lily's eyes. “What kind of story?”
“A magical one,” Remus answered with a nostalgic smile.
Harry, head tilted to the side curiously, said, “Okay.”
                                       …
Shapes rose out of inky blackness. Things grew only a little less black as it
did. Lush vegetation – trees, vines, bushes – seemed to lift out of the
shadows. The darkness grew layered and deep. The rich smell of earth and rain
seeped into her awareness. The soft, solid ground at her feet pressed up at her
unyielding.
As she grew aware of her surroundings, she sensed life around her: insects,
birds, small mammals. She watched as a spider hanging in a gorgeous and
intricate web descend on a singing cricket stuck in the glistening strands.
Birds thrashed in the bushes as they swooped on rabbits. Blood, warm and
bright, soaked into the ground and flavored the air. Up along a tree branch a
gorgeous green snake coiled around a small thrashing monkey who screamed for a
brief moment before the snake squeezed and all sound cut off.
All around her was nature at it's most primal. Beautiful and uncompromising,
life was fed by death and flourished. This was not the mind of a human child.
It was the mind of a warrior, a predator. It was dangerous, and it reflected
the mind of a dangerous person.
Sweltering heat pressed against her skin as the jungle seemed to weigh wether
she was predator or prey. Everywhere she looked the jungle grew wild and
untamed, soaked in blood and lush with life, but there, almost hidden by ferns,
she could see the bare beginnings of a path.
She pushed forward and felt gravity increase, trying to hold her at bay. She
reached forward and gently pushed aside a fern blocking her view. As her eyes
adjusted to the sudden flood of soft, golden light, Laila's breath caught at
the sight before her.
A deep pool of crystal clear water sat surrounded by flowers of all colors and
sizes. From soft blue-purple bell flowers to enormous orange bowl-shaped
flowers and everything in between, they created a lush carpet and crawled up
the trees that shaded and protected the glade from the carnage that surrounded
it. The scene was as soft and gorgeous as any fairytale garden. Pure golden
light trickled down from the thick canopy above giving everything in the
clearing soft edges and a slight glow.
A small tinkling brook fed the pool, creating gentle ripples in the crystalline
surface and a song as peaceful as any as she'd heard. A young deer lay on the
bank, it's slender legs tucked underneath it's body. Cream spots doted the soft
brown fur along its back indicating its young age. Sensing her presence, the
gracefully angled head lifted as soft, round ears turned forward to capture any
sound she made. Gentle, soulful eyes stared into her own and she could feel
herself melting with love and adoration for this fragile, beautiful animal.
Before she could react, a pitch-black monster the size of a jungle cat exploded
out of the bush and flew at her face. Claws and bloodied teeth rushed toward
her as the creature – a blur of black snake scales and eyes, feline claws and
ears, wolf head and teeth, venom pooling in the corners of the wide open mouth
– gave a terrifying growling howl.
Screaming, scrambling backward, Laila fell and death instantly snapped closed
around her throat.
                                       …
“In a huge castle far from here, children go to learn magic. The castle is made
from grey stone worn smooth by time. Huge round towers and high walls with
windows glowing with light from within. It was here that four boys named
Prongs, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Moony met for the first time.
They were very different from each other, but somehow became great friends.
Prongs was confident and wealthy, Padfoot came from a very controlling family,
but was too wild to be tamed. Wormtail seemed timid at first, but he had a
wicked sense of humor, and Moony was sickly and bookish.
The first winter the four boys had together, the others learned that Moony did
not do well with the cold. He was sick often and missed a lot of classes.
Christmas morning, Moony was in a hospital bed in the school's clinic. He'd
taken some medicine so he was deeply asleep. Prongs, Wormtail, and Padfoot
crept into the room and began to create magic.
With the help of little elves, they brought in a huge tree and Wormtail
decorated it with gold and red fairy lights. He charmed candles to float around
the end of the branches so it sparkled and glowed with warmth. Padfoot cast a
spell so it looked like it was snowing in the room but without the coldness.
Each flake glittered silver and tickled if it landed on your skin. Prongs
transfigured a wall so that it became a large brick fireplace. The fire inside
shifted through all the deep jewel hues of blue, red, purple, and yellow.
Warmth emanated from it, sinking deep into your bones and making you want to
melt.
After work that took hours, they added their final touch. They filled the
bottom of the tree with little gifts and cards from their classmates. All of
this for Moony. When Moony woke up, it felt like he was transported to another
world. They had practiced nearly nonstop all month to master those spells to
make Christmas special for Moony.
They spent all of Christmas day in that magical room, laughing and telling
stories. They ate chocolate that jumped around like frogs, opened gifts, and
played a game called Exploding Snap. At the end, they all climbed into Moony's
bed and fell asleep like a pile of puppies. It was then that those boys became
Moony's family.”
                                       …
Harry smiled as Draco strode into the kitchen. “Draco...”
Draco took his hand and looked to Remus who was sitting with Harry at the
kitchen table, both with a cooling cup of tea. “We're gonna go play, but we'll
be back before the sun sets for dinner.”
“Okay...” Remus said carefully.
Harry was sad to see Remus look so closed off and worried. He'd looked so happy
and relaxed telling him the story about Christmas. Remus disappeared from his
thoughts, however, when he noticed how damp and cool Draco's hand was. All his
attention shifted to the blond.
Harry squeezed his hand and stepped forward so they were walking side-by-side.
“Are you okay, Draco?” He looked paler than normal.
Draco slanted him a smile. “Yeah. Laila wan'ed ta get a feel for the shape of
my mind and it was more weird than I expected. Don't worry 'bout it.”
“Will it hurt?” Harry asked worriedly.
“Nah. I think you'll be fine.”
Harry relaxed, knowing Draco was almost always right.
“What were you and Remus talkin' about?”
They were in the forest now, and Harry realized they were heading toward the
special tree they'd found that was hallow on the inside. There was a hole just
big enough to crawl into. The tree was so big that the inside was almost half
the size of the house they were staying in. They'd picked ferns and made a soft
little bed and Draco had promised they'd keep working on it until it was the
perfect hideaway.
“He told me about a magic castle and four boys who go to school there and it
was Christmas! Do you think we can have a Christmas, Draco?” Harry asked,
excited and nervous at once. On one hand, he didn't deserve Christmas. On the
other, Draco definitely did.
“Tell me about it and we'll see.” Draco gave him a warm smile.
Harry felt his nerves slide away. Draco would know if it was okay to have
Christmas, so he excitedly told him the story Remus had told him.
                                       …
Remus found Laila nearly unconscious, lying in the middle of the living room
floor. He tapped her cheeks, making her groan painfully. He had her halfway
sitting up when she turned and vomited on the rug. Remus had no idea what had
happened. He carefully got her into the bathroom and began to clean the floor,
his mind racing as he imagined what had gone wrong. He heard her vomit twice
more before staggering back into the living room.
Remus helped support her weight, concerned that her dark skin looked more grey
than black. “What can I do?” he asked.
“Kitchen. Coffee. Scotch,” she answered, voice a rasp. An hour and two spiked
coffee's later, she had color back in her face and her hands had stopped
shaking. “That boy... His mind attacked mine. He didn't do it on purpose; it
was pure reflex. He's a very powerful child.”
“So you didn't see anything?” Remus felt a confused mix of disappointment and
relief. He wanted to understand Draco, but he was also terrified of the idea of
looking into the boy's mind.
“I saw,” Laila contradicted. Her dark eyes held his own and there was a haunted
cast to them. “I usually keep such things confidential, but I feel it important
you understand a little of what I saw.”
Remus swallowed.
“That boy... He has a warrior's mind... Brutal reality where the strong thrive
and the weak get consumed is what has shaped the boy's mind... But he has
thrived in those conditions. He is among the strong... You could say Draco is
extremely practical, a realist, but it is more than that. Murder, violence, and
sacrifice is his norm. He wouldn't even bat an eye. There would be no
hesitation. Survival is his goal, and he is good at it... In a child that
young... It is frankly terrifying... He's capable of very dangerous and
criminal things; rules will ever only be a guideline to him, not anything he
feels compelled to obey. The opinions of others matter not at all... I would
recommend drugs and residency in a mental hospital until his ruthless,
borderline sociopathic mindset became blunted. ”
Head pounding with too much blood, Remus weakly asked, “But...?”
Laila sighed and slumped across the tabletop, laying her head on the hard
surface. “All that bloody-mindedness... It was wrapped around something
beautiful and gentle...” She sighed again. “I've never seen a mind capable of
such warmth and devotion, such self-sacrifice. He's carved out a piece of his
very soul for Harry... I saw it as a glen made out of gentleness, love, and
goodness; a place for Harry to reside in safety and peace. It is this that is
the core of Draco's mind. His entire being is focused on Harry's happiness and
wellbeing. I can't put into words how beautiful it was. I've been in hundreds
of minds, seen the love between parent and child, between lovers, and I thought
I knew what beauty was... I have never seen anything as breathtaking as Draco's
perfect devotion.”
Remus couldn't help smiling. Draco was an amazing kid. He'd been through
horrific things, seen horrific things, and the fact that he had such love in
his heart made it all the more beautiful. “So what now?”
Laila pulled herself up off the table and sat with another sigh. “It is because
he was raised as a sex slave that he does not understand the way normal society
functions or social rules, or even why they are important. I will explain the
why, focusing on Harry's need to have a healthy, normal life, and that will
make Draco a good student. I'm going to teach him basic psychology and societal
rules so he can better take care of Harry. This should also make him safe to be
around others.”
Remus nodded his head. “I'll help in any way I can.”
“Draco lacks empathy for people in general. He only cares about people if they
are useful to him.” She gave him a warm smile. “You are the complete opposite.
You care very much about others, what they think and feel. You put yourself
second. Try and teach Draco that mindset, teach him about the rewards for
caring and being a part of a community.”
Remus had no idea how she expected him to do that, but he turned his mind to
the problem. Whatever the boys needed from him, he would do his very best to
provide.
Chapter end.


 
***** Armor *****
A/N:Sorry for the delay! Between Harry's mental landscape giving me trouble and
Real Life being evil, I've had some trouble. Please give me feedback! It's
really appreciated. Thanks so much!
                                     Armor
The boys returned from the forest as the sun was setting just as Draco had
promised. Laila – feeling sick – had gone up to bed, so it was just Remus and
the boys for dinner. He'd already started a soup, but Harry took over,
seasoning the broth and putting together little finger sandwiches. That left
Remus with Draco.
He had had no idea what to expect from Draco, but the boy seemed as cheerful as
ever. Clearly, the session hadn't bothered him as much as it had effected
Laila. A small part of Remus was amused by the complete reversal of his time
with her, but mostly he felt stressed. How the bloody hell was he going to
soften Draco's edges?
“Harry told me 'bout your story. You're Moony, aren't you?” Draco asked, full
of curious energy. His white-blond hair was tucked behind his ears. There was
pink in his cheeks and a bright intelligence in his grey eyes.
Remus had no time to be shocked that Draco had put together who he was from a
second-hand telling of the story, nor did he have time to confirm Draco's
suspicions. The little boy had already moved on.
“Was the snow fake? How'd it tickle you? How's it possible ta turn a wall into
a fireplace? How's that work? And what's an elf?”
Like this, Draco didn't seem dangerous. He seemed like a normal six-year-old
boy curious about magic.
“Slow down. I'll do my best to answer your questions,” he said with a smile.
“Let's see. The snow was created by a weather charm that Padfoot altered. For
example, if I spelled a storm, it would pull moisture out of the air and create
a storm cloud that would rain on you, making you wet. The more magic you put
into the spell, the larger the storm. Most people are able to change the
weather of a single block, however, I know of one or two wizards that could
change the weather of a city, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school I told
Harry and you about, could change the weather of the country. He'd be spent for
a week afterward, but he could do it.”
“Control the weather...” Draco had a thoughtful cast to his face. “And the
other stuff? How'd he make it not cold without it meltin'?”
“I believe Padfoot cast a second layer of charms to mask the cold. Basically,
each snow flake was contained inside a magical membrane, cold on the inside
without letting that coldness escape. He then wove in a third set of charms
that gave each snow flake a very slight charge so that the flakes felt like
they were tickling the skin. A final layer of charms gave the snow an extra
sparkly glitter. For an eleven-year-old in his third month of school, that was
very impressive spellwork. However, Padfoot grew up in a magical family and had
likely been exposed to delicate spellwork before. In fact, all three of the
boys grew up in magical families and witnessed magic on a daily basis.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow. “But not you?”
“No.” Remus felt his smile disappear, but he had a sudden epiphany. Maybe if he
explained to Draco how hard it was to be on the outside of society, to be
unaccepted, he'd begin to understand how important it was to conform. “My
childhood was different. My mother was a witch, my father a muggle without
magic, which meant I was exposed to magic, but not quite as much as a child
with two magical parents would have been.”
“And then?” Draco asked softly.
“Everything changed when I was five years old,” Remus admitted. “When I caught
a magical disease. My parents knew the magical community would suggest
euthanasia or demand I be locked away in a sanitarium. My parents... They
sacrificed everything... They took me away and basically went into hiding. They
sold their nice home in the suburbs of London to buy a small country house
isolated from others for miles in either direction. My mother even gave up her
magic so that she wouldn't bring the attention of the Ministry of Magic to our
house. They did whatever they could to keep me secret. I grew up purely as a
muggle after that. Until I got my Hogwarts letter, anyway. It wasn't even
certain I'd be allowed to go, but the Headmaster somehow knew about my
condition and promised my parents he'd keep our secret and keep me safe.”
Expression hard and unmoved, Draco asked, “Are you contagious?”
Remus flinched. He understood Draco was just concerned about protecting himself
and Harry, but it was still painful to hear after opening up. “Yes. But only on
the night of the full moon. I... I'm a werewolf.”
Draco's head tilted to the side. “What's that?”
Remus was shocked. Sometimes he forgot how innocent and unaware of the world
Draco was. But, if he thought about it, the boys grew up more isolated than he
had. Holding that in mind, he took a deep breath and let it out.
“A werewolf is a magical monster. On the night of the full moon, a human with
the disease will transform into a werewolf. The beast will kill and maim,
possibly eating any people it comes across. For some reason, other animals are
safe from a werewolf, but it will actively hunt people. No one knows why this
is for sure, but there are lots of theories. Some say that a powerful wizard in
the past tried to create a solider for war, but the spells went wrong and
created a monster. The only way to pass on the werewolf curse is to bite
someone on the night of the full moon. If by small chance the person survives
the attack, they will now carry the curse and transform on the night of the
full moon. I'm not contagious any other day of the year, but some people fear
that the werewolf can influence my behavior, that it somehow makes me unsafe or
more prone to brutality even in human form.”
Remus fell silent, waiting for the blond's verdict, but Draco said nothing. He
stirred his soup thoughtfully. Remus let the silence grow, trying to tuck away
his shame. Harry's green eyes shifted from Draco's face to Remus's and back
again as he finished his food. It wasn't until Harry began clearing the table
that Remus spoke again.
“It wouldn't have been so bad, but growing up isolated I didn't have the social
skills I needed to blend in. I was awkward, sickly, and lonely. It was beyond
fortunate that Prongs, Wormtail, and Padfoot befriended me and took me under
their wing. After that, I began to integrate more with my peers. I learned from
them and more doors opened up for me because of it. Had I the social skills
from the beginning and not developed the habit of pushing people away, even
more doors would have opened and my life would not have needed to be so hard.”
Remus caught and held Draco's eyes. “Do you understand?”
Draco didn't give him an answer. He held his gaze for a long moment before
standing and calling Harry to his side. “Leave that 'til tomorrow. Bath then
bed.”
Harry's smile was sweet as he wiped his hands dry and took Draco's hand.
“Night, Remus.”
“Goodnight, Harry,” he answered, smiling sadly as the boys disappeared.
                                       …
Draco noticed Laila's good mood had returned by the next morning. He also
noticed Remus's amber eyes following him hopefully. He wasn't too concerned
about Remus's disease to be honest. It sounded like a pain in the ass. He was
sickly – which Draco had witnessed – and everyone was terrified of him for
being a monster only one night a month. One night that anyone could prepare for
by looking at a calendar.
Really, Draco had known worse monsters who were bloodthirsty fuckers every day
of the year, but Draco wasn't about to let him off the hook too soon, either.
Remus was dangerous one night a month. When had he planned on telling them
about it? Was he ever? He should have told them before now, especially as they
were living together and the full moon was in two weeks.
So Draco chose not to say anything to Remus while he ate breakfast and towed
Harry out the door to play in the forest. He was determined to catch a fairy.
It was a harder challenge than he expected.
Four hours later, they were still empty-handed but having a great time. When
they returned to the house, Remus looked as pale and shaky as the day before.
The new scars that puckered his cheeks looked inflamed and darker after his
sessions. Draco wondered what exactly Laila was doing with him.
He'd felt tired after their session, but he also felt strong when he'd kicked
her out of his mind. She'd said he wouldn't even notice her taking a peek, and
at first he hadn't, but then he felt suddenly exposed and knew she'd somehow
touched his connection to Harry. His reaction had her collapsing on the floor
looking pale as death, which amused him to no end.
Laila looked her normal cheerful self as they finished lunch. She tossed her
dreads over her shoulder, revealing even more of her hot pink blouse. She had a
bright yellow head band holding her dreads back from her face, and Draco was
beginning to realize that she wore such bright colors as camouflage. She didn't
want anyone to know when her confidence was shaken and used it to bolster her
cheerful personality.
Teeth white and straight in her dark face, she smiled and said, “Let's start
with Harry today, if that's okay?”
But Draco could see the hesitation in her eyes. Feeling smug, he gave Harry's
hand a squeeze, letting him know it was okay. “Don't worry. I'll be with you
the whole time,” he promised.
Harry followed Laila and Draco into the living room without hesitation.
Draco sat on the couch, wedging himself into the corner, and pulled Harry into
his lap so that he could lean back against his chest comfortably. Harry sighed
and snuggled in. Draco could feel his – trust – as Draco's arms draped around
him, holding him safe.
Gestured at an armchair and set it down directly in front of them. She sat,
briefly settling her pristine white skirt around her. Folding her hand in her
lap, she gave them a warm smile and met Harry's curious green eyes. “Harry, I'm
going to take a look at your mind. I won't see memories or anything like that.
I just want to feel the shape of it so I know how best I can help you and Draco
both. You won't feel anything weird. I'm just going to look; I won't be
touching anything or trying to change anything. Okay?” she asked, smiling
sweetly.
Harry nodded, and it made Draco feel smug and prideful. He'd promised Harry
that he would be fine and Harry trusted that completely. He felt even more smug
when Laila refused to meet his eyes.
“Okay, Harry. Just look into my eyes. You're doing great.” Taking a deep breath
under Draco's watchful gaze, Laila whispered, “Legilimens.”
                                       …
White.
So much white.
White nothingness.
Blinding – literally - in it's whiteness.
She couldn't be any more blind if she were in a pitch black room.
And that's when the cold set in.
A tundra; sky and flat field both so blindingly white that it almost registered
as black.
Motion out of the corner of her eye. She jerked. Heart pounding.
Nothing but white, white, white...
But there was something here. She could feel it.
She spun trying to see what was out there...
Something tugged at her hair. She screamed.
Nothing but white. Nowhere to go. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She felt something slice across her arm. Vivid red, burning against her frozen
skin.
Panicking, she began to run. Couldn't even remember how to escape. She knew she
could, but all she could do was run. Run blindly as things snagged her hair and
scratched at her arms and legs.
She tripped, falling to hands and knees.
And that's when she saw it... Them...
Faces under the ice, stretched and distorted, like something possessed.
Black figures with glowing eyes and wide gaping mouths, sharp spindly claws,
and red, wet blood splashed everywhere. They clawed at the ice trying to get to
her. Hundreds of them, a sea of screaming faces. Hatred. Madness.
Worthlessness. Despair. Clawing to get out. Tearing at the ice, breaking their
own fingers to do it.
Trying to get to her.
To consume her.
She scrambled to her feet and bolted. Her breath tore through her lungs and
froze in front of her face as she ran. She fell hard, skinning her knees and
palms, her whole body throbbing with pain.
There by her foot... A chain...
She'd tripped on a nearly clear chain about one inch thick. Gasping and
panting, she realized what had been there all along. A web of chains laid down
across the ice.
She sucked in a sobbing breath and held perfectly still, terrified she'd broken
the chain and the whole thing would shatter. She knew instinctively that the
howling insanity under that ice would destroy her. The scratches were just
teases, brushes of what was underneath.
And as she looked at the chain, heart in throat, waiting to see if it would
crack or shatter, destroying her mind, she noticed one was thicker than the
others.
Frozen, the pain going numb, everything going numb, she pushed to her feet and
followed it.
Suddenly... It was snowing.
Gentle, beautiful snowflakes. The white sky gone a soft, pure blue, the ice
cushioned by powdered snow. It was warm somehow. The landscape, blue and white,
was illuminated by sparkling sunlight and a wide open sky. No longer
threatening, the landscape had transformed into something peaceful and
beautiful. This was where children could play; where they would make snowmen
and snow angels, go sledding and drink hot cocoa.
Heart slowing down, she followed the chain to a statue. The chain curled around
a slender wrist and arm, and it draped across thin shoulders to loop about the
throat and coil down the opposite arm. It was a statue of Draco – naked and
powerful.
There was an expression on the child's face that she had never seen, had never
imagined. His hair was out from behind his ears and fell around his face,
framing it, softening the hard angles. Eyes an intense silver with a desire she
could feel on her skin, his expression was still somehow soft and completely
relaxed, his lips curled into a natural smile.
He wore the chain like jewelry, making it look beautiful. His hands dangled
loose at his sides, open and relaxed. His hip was canted slightly, his posture
full of attitude and grace. He stood like a King, naked except for the sinuous
chain he wore, the same chain that had spread across the ice and kept the
howling, terrifying darkness at bay. He was the nexus –
Oh god. It was armor for Harry's mind. The chains created stability and
perspective, a foundation for rational thought. Harry had gone through
horrible, degrading experiences – endured years of systematic, dehumanizing
abuse since infancy - and he hadn't made it out okay. It hadn't sharpened his
edges the way it had Draco. It had shattered his mind, his self-image so badly
that he couldn't see past it... without Draco.
That was a huge burden to bear for a child so young. It gave Draco absolute
power over Harry's mind and heart. Power that could be abused and used to
damage Harry further and make it utterly impossible for Harry to recover some
scraps of self-acceptance and self-esteem.
But then she looked into the statue-Draco's eyes and saw the love there. If
Draco damaged Harry it would not be intentional. The child truly loved Harry.
Harry's well-being, happiness, and safety were Draco's prime motivation.
However this had happened, as horrible as it could have turned out, the bond
was Right in a way few things were in life.
Draco sheltered, grounded, protected through the bond. Harry opened Draco to
warmth, love, selflessness. Without Harry, Draco would be a compassionless,
narcissistic sociopath only able to care about himself and his wants. Without
Draco, Harry would be unable to function, his whole reality warped and
distorted through the lens of his self-hate. He'd likely be suicidal and unable
to function.
But here they stood. Draco caring deeply about another person and allowing
others into their lives because he understood Harry needed to live within a
community to be healthy. And Harry found worth in his own existence by caring
for Draco. His gentle soul was allowed to shine and experience joy and
happiness once more.
For a Mind Healer, to see two children's souls damaged and maimed to such an
extent... It was beyond hideous. It was to see something Holy desecrated. It
was to see a unique and precious world poisoned and destroyed by pollution and
atomic weapons. It was unforgivable destruction.
The bond between them – precious and pure – it salvaged their tragic souls. It
created an environment of healing. Created the chance to make right what had
been so horrifically maimed. Precious and impossible, the bond was the most
beautiful thing she had ever seen.
The horror and impossible beauty clashed in her head, and she couldn’t take it
anymore. She fled.
                                       …
Harry blinked his eyes. Laila was curled over her lap. Sweat dampened her
blouse and her hands were shaking as she covered her face. She wept loudly,
like a child, her whole body shaking with her cries.
Heart beating fast in his chest, Harry whipped his head around to look up at
Draco, terrified he'd done something wrong. - horrible disgusting freak Demon
unnatural Vile – Shouldn't have let her inside, should protect people from my
disgusting, evilness...
A strong hand grabbed his face, turning his head painfully, forcing Harry to
turn his body so he could face Draco. “Hush, Harry. It ain't you. She did this
after bein' in my head, too.” Grey eyes burned into him, the hand on his face
tightened enough to leave bruises on his jaw. “Ya don't think I got a bad mind,
do ya?”


Harry gasped, tears burning as they fell down his cheeks. Laila's loud sobs
still sounded from behind him. “No!” Of course Draco wasn't bad. Harry couldn't
even fathom it. Draco was so strong and good and pure. He was everything good.
Draco smiled. “Good boy.”
Harry felt warm to his toes at the praise. Draco released his face, but Harry
remained in that position, looking into Draco's eyes until it was clear Draco
wanted him to move.
Smiling, Draco gently caressed his jaw where it throbbed hotly. “I think she
feels some of the pain we've felt in the past. We've both felt a lot. She'll be
fine in a few minutes. Remus'll take care of her.” A wide grin. “We still got
time 'fore dinner. I think we're gettin' closer to catchin' a fairy. Let's go!”
Harry smiled back. “Okay.”
He didn't even glance Laila's way, trusting Draco's judgment. He took Draco's
hand and followed him out of the kitchen. Together they ran back into the
forest. If he held tighter to Draco's hand than normal... Well, Draco didn't
seem to mind. Draco always made the bad feelings go away. Made the world okay
and safe. He always knew the answers. He loved Draco so, so much; he felt near
to bursting with love and gratitude for Draco.
Draco gave a laugh, wild and free. He spun, pulling Harry up against his chest
and kissed him.
Harry melted into the kiss, heart singing.
                                       …
Laila said nothing except a very hoarse - “Never let those boys be separated.
Never, you hear me?” - as Remus helped her to her room, and then she firmly
shut the door in his face. He was worried as all hell, but the boys arrived for
dinner, dirty and smiling just as they had the other night.
Remus forced his shoulders to relax and let it go. He listened with a smile as
Draco told the story of how Harry had actually had his hand almost around a
golden fairy this time. He was certain tomorrow would be the day they'd catch
one. He was getting better at spotting areas a fairy colony might settle.
“Be careful,” Remus murmured. “Fairies love to play, especially with children,
but if you come upon a batch of fairies who seem angry, leave them alone. They
can be vindictive and mess with your senses. Just like animals have defenses,
so do magical creatures.”
Draco shrugged. “I'll be careful.”
Harry offered Remus a sweet smile. “Don't worry, Remus. I can hear them
laughing. They're having fun, too.”
Remus relaxed once more and reached over to ruffle Harry's hair. “Good.”
Little did he know he should have pressed his warnings harder. He should have
made the more dangerous side of fairies clear. Because the game of 'Catch A
Fairy' was about to turn ugly.
Chapter end.
A/N:So that was Harry's mind. What do you think? I wanted Draco and Harry to be
opposites and somehow really work the bond into a metaphor. How'd I do?
 
***** Spirit of the Hunt *****
A/N:The therapy sections of this chapter has been reworked after receiving
feedback. I tried out a new POV and style, but it was unsuccessful during that
section of the story, so I went back and reworked it. Thank you all for making
me a better writer.
                              Spirit_of_the_Hunt
Remus woke to his third morning in Lusio thinking that it felt like they'd been
there for much longer. Ever since his capture, his sense of time had become
distorted. He wondered if it'd always be that way now. He swung his legs over
the side of the bed and faced a small square window. Soft dawn light filtered
in through the cream curtains. Pushing them aside, he could see fog hugging the
ground. He pressed his palm to the glass, and it felt cold to the touch.
He mechanically went through his routine of dressing and brushing his hair and
teeth before making his way downstairs. The house was quiet, Laila and the boys
sleeping. Remus used the time alone to prepare his first cup of tea and gather
as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
It wasn't long before Draco strode into the room with Harry a little more
sleep-tousled and blurry-eyed following behind him. The sight never failed to
bring a genuine smile to his face.
“Good morning,” he offered softly.
“Morning,” Draco muttered as he took a seat at the small table.
As he moved toward the cold cabinet and stove, Harry answered with a sleepy
smile, “Good morning, Remus.”
Remus watched a moment as the little boy began to cook before taking his now
customary seat across from the blond. “Still planing on going into the forest?”
Draco stared at him through unblinking grey eyes. “Why?”
“I took a walk yesterday and noticed there's a workshop on Shamanic magic
today. It might be interesting.”
Draco sat up, interested. “What's that?”
Remus smiled and took a sip of tea. “Shamanism is a type of magic Native
American and other primitive cultures practice. I don't know much about it, but
today's workshop is going to focus on dream magic and visions.”
“Visions...” Draco's eyes drifted to Harry who was humming as he fried some
eggs. “What kind'a visions? Like about the future?”
“Sometimes,” Remus agreed. “I believe Shamanic visions usually reveal truths
about yourself, past and present, but they can also reveal things about what is
to come.”
Draco's attention shifted back to him. “When is it?”
“It begins after lunch, so you and Harry would have to have your session with
Laila after breakfast if you want to attend.”
Draco shrugged, but Remus could see the light of interest in his eyes. “Yeah.
Okay.”
Remus hid a smile behind his tea cup. The boy was a voracious learner, always
hungry to learn new things and curious about the world around him. He was also
wise beyond his years. It would not surprise him if Draco was sorted Ravenclaw.
Of course, he was vicious, ambitious, and cunning as hell, too, so a good
candidate for Slytherin as well.
Thinking about it further, Draco was also Gryffindor brave. Although Draco was
the type to think things through and weight the consequences, which wasn't very
typical of a Gryffindor. He was also fiercely loyal and was willing to work
hard, although he didn't seem to enjoy it. No. He would either be sorted
Ravenclaw or Slytherin; Remus would put money on it.
As for Harry... He smiled at the little boy as he placed a warm plate of
breakfast in front of him. “Thank you, Harry.”
Harry smiled, a happy flush pinking his cheeks. He took a seat at the table and
waited for both Draco and Remus to take a bite and praise him before he began
eating.
Remus sighed around the delicious food. As much as he wished Harry would be
Gryffindor like both of his parents, the boy screamed Hufflepuff. Loyal and
hardworking described him perfectly.
“What're you thinkin',” Draco asked around a forkful of eggs. He regarded Remus
suspiciously.
“You look sad,” Harry added with concern.
Remus smiled. “I was thinking about Hogwarts,” he admitted. “Did I ever tell
you about the four Houses?”
“No.” Harry perked up, eyes bright. He clearly enjoyed Remus's stories.
Remus chuckled. “Well, I was in Gryffindor. It's the house of Bravery and
Recklessness. The others are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin...”
He spent the whole of breakfast telling them about the four Houses. He had them
laughing within minutes as he described the antics students from each House got
up to during his time at the school. Laila entered as he finished telling them
about a certain Hufflepuff. She would dispense extra deserts that were provided
by a House Elf she'd made a connection with. The things she named as her price
were always random and unusual and had the boys giggling.
“Good morning,” Laila greeted them with a yawn.
She wore a pink cotton dress that fell a few inches short of her ankles and big
brown boots. A big white belt wrapped around her waist and emphasized her wider
hips and full breasts. She gestured for Harry to stay seated as the boy stood
to fetch her plate. She got it herself and brought it and a mug of coffee to
the table, taking the fourth and final seat.
“How'd everyone sleep?” she asked as she took a gulp of her by now lukewarm
coffee.
“Very well,” Remus answered with exaggerated formality, making Harry smile.
“And yourself?”
“I feel much better, thank you.” She answered snootily, following Remus's lead.
Even Draco – who had grown watchful as Laila had entered – was smiling by now.
“The boys and I are going to attend the Shamanic workshop. Would it be okay to
have their session now instead of after lunch?”
“Of course!” She gave them a bright smile. “I'm glad you're interested in
learning while you're here. We should see if we can get you tutoring, too. I
wouldn't want you to fall behind in your reading and maths.” Taking a bite of
her eggs, she gave a dramatic sigh and wink toward Harry. “Perfect, Harry.
Thank you.”
Harry blushed again and smiled shyly at her. “You're welcome, Ms. Laila.”
Laila's eyes suddenly shifted, and Remus froze with his cup of tea halfway to
his lips. He lifted an eyebrow in question.
“And when are you planning to have your session?”
Remus gave a rueful smile and ruffled the back of his hair. “Would after the
workshop work for you or is it too late?”
“Nonsense,” Laila exclaimed. “It's as good a time as ever.” She gave a firm nod
and took another big swig of her coffee.
Draco grinned wolfishly, and Remus blushed, knowing he'd been caught trying to
avoid a session. Fortunately, Harry changed the subject. The boy turned to
Laila and excitedly told her about the Houses at Hogwarts. She listened as she
ate, nodding in the right spots. When he finally wound down, he asked her which
House she thought she would have been in.
“I believe I would have been a Gryffindor. I have learned tact as I've grown
older, but at eleven I was very much a 'speak first, think later' type of
girl,” she said with a laugh, tossing her long dreads back over her shoulder.
“I was pretty aggressive in my attempts to understand other people, and I was
forever trying to help even when others didn't agree they needed it.”
Remus snorted, expression clearly stating that nothing much had changed.
“Hush, you,” Laila said with a laugh, smacking his shoulder playfully.
“What about Draco?” Harry asked curiously, smiling at the blond.
Draco answered with certainty. “I'd be Slytherin. I'm always plannin'.” He
tugged playfully at a lock of Harry's wild, black hair.
Harry giggled. “And me?”
“Hufflepuff,” Remus, Laila, and Draco said simultaneously.
Harry stared around at them surprised, but then his eyes met Draco's. There was
a long beat and then Harry's face turned bright red and he dropped his eyes
shyly.
Remus tilted his head. Sometimes it seemed like the boys were communicating
without saying a word. He made a note to ask Draco about it later.
“Well, are you ready to start, Draco? Remus can tell Harry more about Hogwarts
while we have our session. Daylight's burning.” Laila pushed to her feet and
offered an enthusiastic smile.
Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry's cheek before following Laila into the
living room.
Harry still looked a bit flustered, but he was smiling widely. Remus couldn't
help reaching forward to ruffle Harry's hair. “Well, pup. What kind of story
would you like to hear?”
“I wanna hear more about Quidditch!” Harry exclaimed.
Remus laughed. “Alright. Well, Prongs was the only one of us who played for the
House team. I remember one lively match against Slytherin...”
                                       …
Draco entered the living room without hesitation. Laila was standing by a chair
positioned to face the couch. He gave her a polite smile as he sat comfortably
on the couch. As he sat, he bent one leg flat in front of him on the cushion in
a half-lotus; the other dangled, hooked over the ankle of his folded leg, and
kicked gently.
“Let's begin.” Laila sat in the living room chair and folded her hands in her
lap. She gave him a bright smile, but there was an edge of fierceness and
rebellion to it.
Draco had seen looks of that nature all his life; it was the look of someone
doing something they knew they shouldn't. He reached up and hooked his hair
more firmly around his ears and gave her a fierce smile in return. “Wha'd'ya
got for me?”
“I am going to teach you a little psychology,” she began, dark eyes bright. “It
will give you the ability to understand and even to manipulate the human mind.”
Draco tilted his head curiously. “I'm not supposed to know how ta do that,
huh?”
“A little knowledge can be dangerous, especially paired up with a lack of
ethics.” She shook her head, causing her dreads to fall around her shoulders
and down her chest. “You have the basics of manipulation, but it's important
for you to have an even stronger concept. For Harry's sake.”
Draco sat straighter. She'd had his attention before, but now it was like a
laser.
“Psychology is merely the understanding of the interaction between the world
and the inner self. At its simplest, the world gives us events, and we in turn
give those events meaning by interpreting and acting upon them. There are four
elements that you need to be aware of in order to truly understand the way
people think. These elements are: input from the world, the person's responses
to that stimuli, anticipation, and adaptability.”
His sole focus was on her words, on the new concepts she was expressing. It
made him squint and his brow to wrinkle.
“Anticipation is someone's certain knowledge of the world, their "model" of it.
This model includes everything from little details like which shoe you put on
first to complex things like how you feel about yourself and your life. We use
this “model” to anticipate -- expect, predict -- what will happen in the next
moment or in the next ten years.”
That made sense. Anticipation – he was definitely aware of doing this all the
time. In order to plan his escape from the Hold, in order to save Harry from
the basement at Brendon's, in order to make decisions about Remus and the magic
world, and even when he said goodbye to Liam – he used anticipation to make the
best decision in all of those situations.
“Adaption comes into play when people don't anticipate well. Whenever a mistake
is made, the person will go through an either quick or long process - depending
on the degree of severity of the mistaken anticipation - to figure out what
went wrong, what to do about it, how to make sense of it. As people do this,
they are improving their understanding of the world and their relation to it;
they are improving their mental "model" of the world.”
This was another concept that Draco understood. He had to adapt when he met
Harry. He never anticipated someone loving him or loving someone else the way
he loved Harry. It changed everything for him. Again when Brendon and Liam came
into the picture. He never anticipated being able to trust an adult, but they
proved him wrong and he had to adapt.
“Now, the key to truly understanding a person is the ability to recreate their
“world model”, to think like them. If you can do this, then you will be able to
predict their responses to stimuli as well as understand their anticipations of
the world. However, even if you feel confident that you have a good
understanding of someone's “model” and your ability to predict their reactions,
remember the human quality of adaptation.”
Draco nodded. “Yeah. I can do that, but only for some types of people,” he
admitted. Mostly he could do it with the filthy bastards that wanted to fuck
him or hurt him. He understood that mindset and could anticipate what they'd do
and even manipulate them to a small degree by using the very thing that
motivated them.
Laila gave him a proud look. “You are a very bright boy, Draco. There's no
doubt of that. I want you to broaden your skills. I want you to be able to
understand most people if you choose.”
Draco was interested of course, but it also made him feel uneasy. When he
understood a person that well, it changed who Draco was in turn.
Laila was unaware of Draco's worries and continued. “I will teach you how to
recreate a “world model”, how to literally think like another person. This
skill will be useful as you try to maneuver through society, but mostly I want
you to understand this for Harry.”
Draco's waning attention as she strayed from the point snapped back. He sat
absolutely still and stared at her unblinking.
Smile gentle now, Laila told him, “Harry's “world model” is highly distorted as
I'm sure you're aware. His set of anticipations do not fit within functioning,
healthy parameters. You need to be constantly aware of his “model of the world”
so that you can enforce balance when he becomes unstable or self-destructive.
If you can predict how he'll adapt, you'll able to predict what stimuli will
shift his “model” in a more stable and healthy direction.”
“I already know...”
“How to get him stable,” Laila answered for him, impatient for the first time
since they started. “I know you do this a little, but what if you could be even
more effective and have the results last longer. You know that Harry's
instability is something that you need help with or you wouldn't have agreed
for me to come. Isn't that right?”
Draco remembered how Harry clung to him and barely spoke after the Scourers.
He'd had no idea how to fix it until inspiration struck when they had arrived
here and Draco put the collar around Harry's throat.
“Harry has no foundation to his reality. Everything is chaos in his head, but
you eventually figured out how to orient Harry and give him a foundation to
mentally stand on. In essence, you found a way to build a more stable “world
model” for him. But it took you a few days and probably came to you as
inspiration struck. I can teach you to consciously understand Harry and know
exactly what he needs in order to stabilize.”
Expression fierce, looking nothing like a six-and-a-half year old, Draco looked
into Laila's eyes and said, “Teach me.”
                                       …
Harry left Remus and his stories behind as Draco came for him. He smiled at the
blond as he was towed to the living room by the gentle grasp on his hand. Draco
smiled back. His eyes were bright, and Harry's fear of the session ahead
shrank. Laila was sitting in front of the couch again. She looked tired, but
she didn't seem to be sick or upset anymore. Another layer of worry faded.
Draco sat in the corner of the couch and pulled Harry into his lap just as he
had yesterday. Harry sighed in contentment and cuddled into Draco's embrace as
the blond's arms settled around him. He felt his skin tingle as Draco held him
and it took real effort to give his attention to Laila.
“Good morning, Harry. Thank you for joining us. I'm sorry if I disturbed you
yesterday. I should have warned you that I can become emotional after
connecting with someone's mind. Crying is a very common reaction that I have.
After connecting to Draco's mind, I became very ill. Neither reaction is a
reflection of what I saw. It just means that I worked really hard. For example,
I'm sure you've worked so hard before that you felt faint or sick?”
“Yes,” he whispered and pressed deeper into Draco's hold. “I remember that a
lot from before... before Draco.” He shuddered, hating to remember that time of
unrelenting loneliness, confusion, and pain.
Laila gave him a gentle smile. “Well, that is what happens sometimes when I
work hard with my mind. So I'd like to put yesterday behind us and begin again.
If you are ready, I'd like to start.”
He gave a nod, still trying shake off the cloying memories of the past. Draco
began to gently run his fingertips down Harry's arms in a slow, stroking motion
and it helped Harry focus.
“Okay. Thank you, Harry.” She straightened in her seat and gave a soft clap of
her hands. “Today I want to talk to you about perceptions. Perceptions are what
we have about what things are. For example, you have the perception that Draco
is safe. You have the perception that it is cold outside.”
Again Harry nodded to show he understood.
“I want to work with you on self-perceptions. People are many things all at the
same time. Even if you can only see or understand one thing at a time, that
does not mean they are not other things, too. For example, Draco is safe, but
he's also still learning new things, he's able to be hurt, he's able to hurt
others, he's able to love you, he's able to hate people who hurt him, and so
on. You can't see all these at one time, but they are all still parts of what
he's capable of at any given moment.”
A more hesitant nod this time. He kinda understood what she was saying, but not
fully. He felt his anxiety rise. What if he disappointed Draco? What if he was
too stupid?
“I'd like to work on your perception of yourself, Harry. You perceive that you
are bad and ugly, yes? Well, I want you to consider deepening your
understanding. You are other things, too. You are capable of loving Draco, of
taking care of him, of protecting him to the best of your ability. You are
capable of obedience, and you are useful – like when you cook breakfast or
clean the house.”
“Give 'em a minute,” Draco told her. He began to run his hands through Harry's
hair, pulling his bangs from his sweating forehead and tipping Harry's head
back so that it rested on his shoulder.
Harry was panting, his heart was pounding in his chest. He helped Draco, healed
him, but even though he could do those things in the moment, he never really
thought of himself as helpful or useful. It was a extremely difficult concept
and one that made him terrified to be punished.
He was bad! A filthy freak!He'd never think otherwise. He knew better.
You're mine, Harry. Mine to do with as I will.
Harry gasped, his eyes wide open but staring blindly up at the ceiling. Yes!
Yours!His heart began to slow as he trusted in Draco's control. Harry didn't
have to worry. Draco would tell him what to do, would tell him what he needed.
Harry only had to obey and trust.
“It's okay, Harry,” Laila's voice came to him. “It's a hard thing to
understand, but the reason why I want you to understand how many parts make up
your whole is because it will make you stronger. As you grow stronger, your
bond with Draco will also grow. And, one day, I hope you will be able to bring
certain perceptions about yourself to the front when you choose. For example,
if a situation needs you to be clever, you can bring your cleverness forward.
If you need to be tough, you can find your toughness and be tough. Does that
sound like something you would want to try to do?”
Harry felt his panic returning. “I-I can't!” He tried to turn to look at Draco,
but the blond's arms held him still. Did Draco want him to do that? Would he
hate him if Harry couldn't? A nearly silent whine built in his throat.
“It's okay that you don't think you can do it, Harry. But would you want to?”
Laila pressed. She was leaning forward trying to stare into his eyes.
Harry was crying, defeated and hating himself. “Yes. I'd want to...” he
admitted. Of course he did. He wanted to be good! He did. But he was bad...
“Okay. Then we will try.” Laila patted him on the knee. “We will not say we
cannot do it until after we have tried a few times, yes?”
Harry didn't answer. He didn't want to try because he knew it wouldn't work. He
didn't want Draco to see him fail. But that was wrong. It didn't matter what he
wanted. It was what Draco wanted that mattered. He had to be good and do what
Draco wanted. Going limp, he finally nodded.
Laila gave him a big smile, but Harry could feel how tense Draco was behind
him. Harry didn't cringe. He accepted Draco's anger as right. He was bad and
he'd already proved it by not obeying Draco right away. Draco should punish
him, should teach him to be good. In response to the wishful thinking, Draco's
hands clamped down around his wrists hard enough to hurt a little and Harry's
body arched slightly in anticipation.
Yes! Fix me! Make me better!he babbled in his mind.
“Okay,” Laila was saying. Harry was hardly listening. “We are going to practice
your perception of being useful. I want you to think of a time you were useful.
Can you do that? Draco can help you if you need him to.”
Focus, Harry. Draco's voice licked inside his mind. It was demanding and hard.
Harry tried to obey, but he couldn't think of a time!
Remember when you first met me? Remember when you washed my cuts and made the
pain go away? That was useful, Harry, and then you became mine.
Harry gasped, warmth and love and need pooling in his gut and sending his heart
thundering in his chest. Yes! He was Draco's! Heal Draco, love Draco!
Remember it, Harry.
Harry obediently closed his eyes and remembered. He'd been so cold, terrified,
and sick. Finally bad enough to be tossed away. Then he'd met Draco. With the
grey eyes and white hair. He'd given him food and spoke to him. Then he'd gone
and when he'd come back...
Harry remembered that moment. He didn't know why he'd touched the boy. He knew
better by that point than to touch other people and get his filthiness all over
them. But the way the boy had sat so still and stiffly, clearly in pain...
Harry had wanted to help him so badly it had overridden the fear and the good
sense not to touch. He'd taken the blanket and began to clean the boy's wounds,
wishing with all his heart to do this one thing for the boy, to do one good
thing because the boy needed it.
Laila's voice slipped into the memory. “Good, Harry. You're doing really well.
Now, this is a very special journal. I want you to write down “I am useful” on
the top of the first page while holding that memory, that feeling, inside as
hard as you can.”
Harry cracked his eyes open, half his attention on his memory of the blond boy
who was hurting. Draco helped him prop the blank book open on his lap and
helped him hold the pen. It was a feathered pen and he almost lost the memory
at the strangeness of it all, but he felt Draco nudge him mentally. He went
back to the memory of washing the hurt boy's skin and the fierce wish to help
him.
“Can't spell...” he whispered after he dutifully wrote the “I am” at the top of
the page.
“It's okay to need help,” Laila told him. “It's spelled u-s-e, f-u-l.
Harry wrote the word, only half seeing if he was doing it right. He was caught
up in the moment when Draco had told him he'd made him feel better. That he'd
done good. The joy of that moment, a happiness he'd never felt before, it
brought tears to his eyes even now. He looked down and gasped as a picture
began to appear on the page.
It showed Draco and Harry naked and in the Hold, both so skinny their ribs
showed clearly. Harry was even more stick-thin, so ugly next to Draco, but that
didn't matter. What mattered was the look on hurt Draco's face. The surprise
and happiness there. Harry had helped him!
“Good job, Harry.” Laila clapped her hands with a big grin. “You did exactly
right or it wouldn't have been able to draw the picture. And on the first try,
too!”
Harry ducked his head in embarrassment. Draco hugged him from behind.
“If you forget how many pieces of you there are,” Laila continued. “You can
look back in this journal to remind you. We're going to fill it up with all the
things you are. This week I want you to remember a different useful memory
every day for seven days. Write “I am useful” at the top and remember really
hard just like you did now. Next week we'll try a new thing that you are. But,
this is important Harry, Draco or I will choose what you are to write. I don't
want you to write down what you are without one of us, okay?”
“Yes,” Harry agreed easily, cuddling into Draco's embrace.
Such a good boy,Draco murmured into his mind, gentle as a caress.
Harry shivered and felt like his skin was on fire.
“You did so good today,” Laila said, unknowingly echoing Draco's praise. She
tossed her long dreads over her shoulder, smiling happily at him. “Thank you
for your time. We'll do some more tomorrow. Now, go on. I know you want to get
lunch ready. Scoot!”
Harry hurried to his feet and headed for the kitchen, leaving the strange
journal behind. Draco followed him and caught him by the wrist just as they
made it into the other room. He turned and was pressed hard against the wall,
Draco's mouth coming down on his.
Harry gasped, his whole world lighting up as Draco's tongue stroked along his
own and licked at the top of his mouth. He moaned and went pliant in Draco's
hold. Draco's hand came up and pressed the collar against his skin, making his
throat tight. Harry was Draco's and everything was good.
                                       …
Draco kissed Harry breathless until the last vibration of anxiety and self-hate
disappeared from the bond. Finally pulling away from Harry's mouth, he panted
against the boy's swollen lips. Harry's glasses were eschew, his pupils wide
and eyes glazed. Draco felt the echo of the warmth pooling in Harry belly and
lower and shivered. He pressed his hips against the smaller boy and
contemplated finishing things when Remus stepped into the kitchen.
The man froze as he saw them pressed up against each other, their mouths slick
and red and swollen. Draco smirked and moved away from Harry, dropping his hand
from the boy's throat. He met Remus's eyes challengingly, but the many looked
away.
Clearing his throat, Remus said, “The workshop is about to start.”
Draco glanced at Harry who was only now beginning to blink back into awareness.
He took the boy's hand gently into his own. Catching Remus's eyes, he jerked
his chin to the door. “After you.”
Without comment, Remus obediently turned and led the way to the center of town.
It wasn't far. Only two houses over and the small cottages stopped and a lawn
of grass started. The clearing was covered in thick green grass, and if it
weren't such a cold day, Draco would've had his shoes off to feel it on his
feet.
In the very center of the lawn, stood the large wooden gryphon overlooking it
all. It stood taller than three men standing on each other's shoulders. It's
head was lifted toward the sky, the beak looking sharp. It's wings were held
close to it's back and one forepaw was half-lifted. Even though it was wood, it
was so realistically carved that Draco kept one eye on it, expecting it to
move. And really, with magic involved, it wasn't impossible.
The rest of his attention was on the eight adults ranging from Remus's age to
old and stooped, with the exception of two teenagers, one boy and one girl.
They gathered at the front of the statue and talked quietly amongst themselves.
The teenage girl noticed them first and her eyes immediately went to Harry even
though he was trailing behind both Remus and then Draco.
Draco blanked his face and mentally told Harry. - Some people might know you
'cause your magical parents were famous. Just ignore it and focus on me if you
feel nervous. -
- surprise confusion – Green eyes burned through the back of his head and Draco
wished he'd thought to talk to Harry about this before coming. He'd gotten
distracted with Laila's sessions.
The casual chattering stopped as they arrived. Remus cleared his throat and
introduced himself and them. He carefully didn't use last names, but still eyes
flashed to Harry's head. Harry kept his eyes on the ground, took deep breaths,
and held tight to Draco's hand. Draco's cold glare quickly had people turning
away and talking to Remus instead of bombarding them, and Draco flashed Harry a
reassuring smile.
Harry smiled back – relief uncertainty gratitude -
An old Native American man arrived. He used a staff, but the ornate symbols and
feathers decorating it made it clear to Draco that it was used for more than a
walking stick. He wore pale brown leather pants also with ornate stitching, a
matching vest, and slipper-like shoes. His long hair was silver-white and tied
into low pigtails that fell over the front of his shoulders and down his chest.
His face was creased and wrinkled with time, but his voice was strong and deep
as he greeted them.
The group settled on the ground around the old man and listened silently as he
described the magic of Vision Quests. He talked about the world being made up
of spirits: animal spirits, plant spirits, nature spirits, weather spirits,
moon spirits, sun spirits... Everything in the universe had a unique spirit,
and if one listened, those spirits would communicate special messages through
visions.
He talked about how to empty the mind and body, to quiet the ego, the self,
that interferes with true listening. He talked about plants that could be eaten
or smoked that could help open the mind to these messages. He told stories of
the spirits that talked most to him, that of Bear and Eagle. He even offered to
do a full Vision Quest, which required fasting for four days and camping in the
forest away from human influence, with anyone who wished to undertake it. For
now, they had missed dinner and would try a small vision quest as the sun set.
He warned it could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to until the sun rises
again. Anyone who did not feel comfortable undertaking the experience was free
to leave.
Draco noticed a few people get up and leave. Remus shot him a questioning
glance, but Draco nodded his head that they would stay. In the end, six of them
stayed, including both of the teenagers. The old Shaman made seven. Remus
whispered that seven was a good number. Seven signified completeness and
perfection. Draco was confused, however, on why they would include the Shaman
since he was merely a guide and not actually on a Vision Quest, but he didn't
have time to ask.
The Shaman had them shift so that they were sitting in a circle around the
gryphon. Draco ended up directly facing it's back. Harry was to his right and
Remus was on Harry's right. They sat close enough to each other that Draco and
Harry could clasp hands if they stretched out their arms. On Draco's left, sat
the teenage boy. He already had his eyes closed. He seemed really serious about
this Vision Quest.
“It is important that you do not come into this experience with questions or
desires,” the Shaman intoned, voice deep and melodious. He spoke slowly and
with purpose. “You are to be empty. You are to Listen. Your job is to be
nothing... Do nothing... But be open to the Spirits. Often they speak in
metaphor and images. I will be available to help interpret any vision you have,
but it is important that you do not try to shape the vision at any time. You
are to receive only and be accepting.”
As he spoke, he lit thin sticks of wood. A clean, sharp scent drifted on the
breeze. He began to walk around the circle at their backs, trailing thin trails
of smoke behind him.
“Now close your eyes. Take a deep breath. More. Take all the Air in the world
into your lungs. Do not think. Just be the Air. In and in. Until all there
is... is air. Then let it out. Slowly. You are Wind. You are the sound in the
leaves. The movement of the grass. Out. And then bring it in. All the way in.
You are Air... Out... You are the Wind. Hear it. Feel it.”
The rhythm of his words blended with the soft chirsh of his steps on the grass
as he walked a circle around them.
“Feel the last of the Sun on your skin. Feel the warmth. Embrace it. Let it
fill you up. As you continue to breathe in Air and breathe out Wind. Take the
Sun – the warmth, the energy, the life – take it inside your stomach. Feel it
fill up your empty belly. Feel it expand and grow warm. Slowly take in Air...
and out become the Wind...”
Draco was only vaguely aware of the sound of the wind picking up, of the forest
beginning to sing. He was hardly aware of his eyes being shut. He awareness was
on his warm belly and the air moving in and out of his lungs. And the voice
that sank deep inside his mind.
“Feel the energy of Life around you... Feel the energy in the Forest... Feel
the coming Winter in the Air... The cold is coming... The time when the Earth
sleeps and Dreams... Feel the Dream stirring in the base of your brain... Open
your mind to the energy all around you... And Listen...”
                                       …
Draco was running. The forest was his domain. He was powerful and strong. The
ground passed quickly beneath his paws. His scales shed the water that fell.
Tongue lolling out of a mouth filled with sharp teeth, he ran on. His muscles
moved with strength and flexibility, he could turn in a flash. His ears caught
every little sound and his eyes every slight movement in the the ferns and
trees around him. He was Freedom!
His ears twitched and he glanced to the side to see a fawn, all spindly legs,
gracefully running at his side. It bounded and leapt, keeping pace. It's round
soft nose stretched forward, wide ears twitched, but the liquid dark eyes
always returned to Draco.
He spun and gently tackled the young deer. It tumbled to the ground and sat up,
legs sprawled, it's soft nose butting against Draco's cheek. Draco inhaled the
scent of the gentle animal and rumbled happily, licking a line over the fawn's
pale throat. Soft lips nibbled at his scaled ear, making him rumble again.
Panting, he lay comfortably on the bed of ferns, trees a sheltering wall around
them. The fawn was tucked against his side, head draped across Draco's back.
His eyes snapped to the side to see small golden lights dancing in the shadows
of the trees. He watched in interest, undisturbed.
Then more lights appeared. His ears flicked as his eyes snapped in new
directions. They were quickly surrounded. His ears slowly pinned back, his lips
curling up to reveal sharp teeth. The fawn's head lifted, ears flicking as it
looked around innocently.
Draco got to his feet, claws slipping out, legs braced and spread, head
lowered. If he had fur instead of scales his hackles would have raised. As it
was, his muscles contracted and the scales made a menacing hissing sound as
they slid against each other. The fawn stayed folded on the ground, head
lowered, trusting in his protection.
Lunging forward, Draco snapped his jaws in warning. High tinkling laughter
answered his action.
Growling now, anger hot in his blood, Draco whipped his head to the side to see
a golden light larger than the others approach. He turned to face it, stalking
forward, and the light grew rapidly until a naked woman with golden hair that
flowed and wove in the air and across her body on nonexistent winds stood in
front of him.
She had eyes a blue that hadn't existed before this moment and the most
beautiful smile. She crouched, the way her body flowed and bent just slightly
alien. Draco stared into her eyes and felt a feeling like falling. She spoke.
Words of appreciation, of admiration for his form. She stroked along his head,
delighting in his form of perfect death. She wanted to play –
- come play with me – kill – hunt – run – free -
Draco tore away from her as his instincts screamed. He lunged at a male and
snapped his jaws closed in a flash on the slender arm that had reached for his
fawn.
- Mine! - Kill you! - he snarled as the male screamed.
The creature's face distorted, his mouth opening grotesquely. Slowly his golden
light bled black, his skin bleached white as the moon, his hair black as the
darkest night. He opened a too-wide mouth full of sharp piranha teeth and
grinned.
Draco shook his head with a violent snap, throwing the creature to the ground.
It gave another scream of pain and rage. Holding the arm prisoner, his teeth
sawing, Draco lashed his paw forward with deadly claws to end the threat. But
his mouth was empty, the male suddenly standing at the edge of the clearing.
His arm was painted in red spirals, but he was whole, his sharp-toothed smile
open in a hungry laugh.
Draco snarled and snapped as the golden creatures flickering in the shadows
slowly flamed black, the golden lights going out one by one. He backed up to
stand protectively over his fawn and growled as the golden woman stepped closer
with her too-blue eyes sparkling.
She spoke again, still with that gentle smile. She was amazed and amused that
he was mated. Offered to include his mate. Draco would - hunt – play – kill -
with the black, and his mate would - run – fun – freedom – follow in the Hunts
wake, safe with her. Afterward they'd - dance - play – pleasure – joy –
Three times three; it was a promise they had made unknowingly, and they must
finish their game...
Play with us (sweet tinkling bells)Come play(dark ravenous calls to the
hunt)...
Draco lifted his head and howled as bloodlust overcame him... He lunged
forward, deep into the shadows of the forest... The dark lights fell in behind
and beside him, echoing his bloodthirsty howl...
The Hunt was on...
                                       …
Remus sat cross-legged on a rocky mountain side. Pine trees dotted the
landscape here and there, filling the air with their clean scent. Around the
curve of rock and dirt, the click of claws sounded. A huge wolf stepped
forward.
Remus held his breath, eyes wide as he took in the beauty of the large male.
His fur was grey with a mix of black and brown at the tips. His eyes were
enormous, a perfect gold. It trotted forward until their noses were almost
touching and breathed in his face. Remus flinched, expecting the smell of death
and blood, but all he smelled was warmth.
He felt the Wolf begin to speak...
- Running – strength – freedom –The ground moving underneath your body. The
absolute joy of it... - pack – family – wholeness – love – safety - warmth –The
feel of warm bodies breathing in sync with your own. Together in a way humans
do not comprehend. Living only on the condition of that togetherness. To not be
you but always us... - Hunting – killing – defending – Senses so sharp they
nearly cut. Feeling prey move on the ground. Hearing it, tasting it, smelling
it, before ever seeing it. Being faster/stronger. Rewarded with the feel of
flesh giving way in his jaws. The taste of blood that warms the belly, the deep
hunger assuaged. The pride of seeing the Pack eat, grow strong, survive...- joy
– freedom – unburdened –Snapping and wrestling, playing, laughing, true
happiness...
To be Wolf.
All that was Wolf twisted into something that was not Natural, something Made-
By-Man, a crazed thing. An unharmonious blending of Man and Wolf. Something
rabid, blood-crazed, moon-crazed. Remus could actually feel the massive spell.
Felt how it marked the beginning of the extinction of Wolf, stole their essence
to fuel the Enchantment. The weight of that spell, it was an unstoppable wave
pressing forward through time, but...
But...
Wolf and Man were fierce souls. If they could somehow meet where the bloody
edges of the spell mangled them together... If they could smooth and sooth that
edge even just a little...
Perhaps they could be less deformed, less crazed... Perhaps they would be more
Wolf than Monster...
                                       …
Remus gasped as he came back to himself. He was sitting cross-legged on the
grass. The waxing moon a week and a half from being full hung above him. The
cold wind brushed his face. He felt dampness there and knew he'd been crying.
Scrubbing at his tears awkwardly, he tried to get to his feet.
He staggered against the gryphon statue, his legs numb. His whole body was numb
really. Even through his layers, the night had the bite of winter. Slowly he
realized there were hushed voices talking somewhere nearby. He frowned at the
urgency he heard there.
Stumbling, he made his way around the statue. No one was sitting around it. He
must be the last. He looked and saw a group of people talking at the edge of
the clearing near one of the houses. He limped and stumbled, seeing Laila
bundled up in the mix. The voices grew hushed as he approached and he felt his
heart begin to beat. His mind began to wake up. The vision began to fade away
as alarm took it's place.
“What happened?” he demanded, voice a croak. “Where are the boys?”
Laila reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Gone. One minute they were
there, the next they were just gone with no one remembering them go or sensing
a spell.”
“I was guarding the circle,” the old Shaman spoke. He was leaning heavily on
his staff. “I was watching. I saw nothing. They were just gone.” He looked
toward the forest. “Only powerful Spirits could have done that. I believe they
were spirited away and are running with them now. We must wait for them to
return.”
“And when will that be?” Remus snapped. His heart pounded hard and fierce in
his chest...Harry... Draco...
“Likely at dawn, or the next dawn. It is an impossible thing to know. The
Spirits will do as they will.”
Remus felt his blood boil. “Worst case scenario,” he bit out.
The old Shaman bowed his head and reluctantly admitted, “I have witnessed times
where children are returned the next morning, but I have also seen times where
weeks, months, even years have passed before their return.” Dark eyes meeting
Remus's, he confessed, “And sometimes they are not returned at all.”
Remus spun and began to stride toward the forest. He remembered his promise to
the Asclepius. Remembered the promise he'd made to Liam, the brother who would
have died for those boys had he been allowed. Remembered the promise he gave to
Laila to help guide, protect, and nurture the boys.
“Remus! No!” Laila grabbed his arm, but he yanked away. She kept step with him.
“Please, Remus. Can't you feel it? The power in the air? It's too dangerous!
Let's wait until daytime and look for them.”
Remus stared straight ahead, his voice calm when he answered her. “You know as
well as I do that if they got spirited away, they have crossed the boundary
between two planes of existence. It will be too wide to cross during the day.”
“We don't want to cross!” Laila protested. She tried to catch his arm again,
but Remus dodged. “We want to bring them back. We'll think of something, Remus!
Don't be foolish! What will getting lost do?”
Remus finally stopped, making her almost fall. Meeting her eyes, he spoke
solemnly. “I appreciate all you've done, but please understand that nothing
will stop me from going after the boys. You can do as you wish from this end,
but their best chance is if I can reach them and guide them back.”
“Oh, Remus.” Laila covered her mouth for a moment before reaching forward to
clasp his hands in hers. They remained limp in her grip, not holding back. “You
know that's near impossible. Those who are taken can't be forced back. They
either come or they don't.”
“Then I will be lost with them.”
Remus stepped backward. When she she didn't reach for him again, he turned and
began to jog between the houses. The forest loomed before him. Laila was right.
He could feel it breathing, alive in a way it wasn't before, as if there was a
new layer to reality. The Darkness was alive. Picking up speed, Remus ran
between the trees and felt as if he were running into an open mouth waiting to
swallow him whole.
Chapter end.
 
 
***** Fairy Ring *****
A/N:I made changes to the previous chapter if you want to go back and check it
out. Thank you for your feedback!
Chapter Warning: boy/boy, M for Mature
                                  Fairy_Ring
Deep night and winter cold, the forest seemed to breathe around him. Remus
walked, surrounded by shifting shadows and haunting laughter. The bushes shook
with the sounds of something dangerous breathing within them, the trees
whispered secrets and lies, everything was darkness and night, and still Remus
pressed on. His whole body ached in the bitter cold. His joints stiffened to
the point that he began to stumble.
A pained squeak sounded beneath him and he staggered back. There on the ground
was a small, white rabbit. It shivered in the cold as much as Remus did. He
crouched, knees popping loudly, and scooped the small creature into his hands.
“Alright, there?” he asked in a whisper.
The forest laughed around him.
He knew it was useless, nature would have its way, but he couldn't help
himself. He looked around for a tree with a hollow. He found it after a few
minutes of searching. Carefully he set the baby aside. He took off his jacket
and then his sweater. He created a little nest with his sweater inside the tree
and placed the baby gently within it. Then he quickly pulled on his jacket,
feeling colder than ever.
“I hope your mama finds you, little one. I'd bring you with me, but I have a
feeling it's going to be dangerous. Good luck.” Patting the small creature one
last time, Remus stood and made his way deeper into the woods.
He walked for hours. His eyes were blurry with exhaustion. So he was
practically on top of the carcass when the smell finally registered in his
tired brain. Remus gasped and stopped, his mouth and nose filled with the scent
of fresh, hot blood.
He stared dumbly down at the massive buck. It was huge with fifteen points on
it's massive antlers. All that was left of the beast was his head, thin pieces
of it's neck, it's front legs, the torn and missing abdomen, and the back legs.
He could see its spine, the rest of the midsection missing, presumably eaten.
It had to have been killed moments ago. Its body and blood still steamed in the
cold night air.
Frozen through, exhausted, an overwhelming urge hit him. Before he realized it,
he was crouched next to the fresh kill and leaning forward. Was he going to eat
it? Heart pounding, Remus locked his muscles, trying to understand what was
happening.
Hungry.
Cold.
Fresh meat!
Remus swallowed and thrust himself backward. It literally caused him pain, his
chest and stomach aching. Choking back sobs, he pushed to his feet and turned
his back on the meal. Harry... Draco...He couldn’t eat here. Or he'd be
trapped. No food. No drink. No matter how bloody tempting. He had to find the
boys.
Clutching his arms tightly around his chest, he forced himself to walk away,
the sound of laughter chasing him.
He must have slept because he woke curled up at the base of a massive tree.
Gasping and choking back cries of pain, Remus forced his body to unlock and
straighten. The sound of music, unearthly and full of power, drifted to him on
the breeze. An eternal night still wrapped around the forest, and he stumbled
as he pushed leaves and ferns out of his way.
A large clearing spread out before him down a slight incline. Moonlight spilled
down from a star-filled expanse of night sky. A colored curtain ribboned above
them, seemingly to sway with the glorious music. Figures danced and twirled
with inhuman grace. Gossamer gowns in every shade of black and silver formed
wings as they twirled, and there in the center were the most beautiful figures
of all.
Lean and taller than the other figures, two beings danced. Arms swirling and
swooping, feet light as they tapped out a pattern, their bodies turned and
twisted, hips gyrating to every note that sung through the clearing. The
figures around the clearing mixed and interwove around the two in a large
circle, but the two danced with each other, allowing no one near.
A flash of green and Remus gasped, falling to his knees. Harry! Draco?
The two figures were no longer children. They were timeless, willowy figures of
extraordinary grace. It was beauty, it was glorious, the way they twirled and
leapt. Their expressions filled with perfect joy as they came together again
and again.
Even as Remus watched, the beat evolved into something more primal. Harry and
Draco spun apart less and less. Soon they were rocking together, their bodies
pressing close. An expectant sigh went up around the faerie dancers.
Draco slid his hands up Harry's sides, Harry lifting his arms and reaching for
the stars, his hands weaving sensuous patterns. Bodies surging together and
apart in slow undulating waves, Draco pressed his hands up those slender arms
only to drag them back down.
Harry arched with a wanton moan as those steady hands slid down to grasp his
hips and pull them tight together. They rocked, seductive in their rhythm,
their heads flung back in pleasure. Harry's arms drifted down to wrap around
Draco's neck and shoulders.
With a sigh, the brunet undulated and began to sink, his mouth open and tasting
the exposed skin of Draco's chest, stomach, hips. The blond's hands slid along
Harry's skin, cupping and claiming, until Harry finally settled on his knees
and Draco's hands slid into his wild, thick hair.
Remus was panting. He couldn't look away from the gorgeous sight as Harry's
mouth opened easily around Draco's tall member. Draco's hands left Harry's head
to reach upward, hands echoing the pattern Harry had made, his expression one
of perfect bliss.
Harry, on his knees, hands clasped behind him, performed a slow, deep roll with
his torso and belly as he slid up Draco's shaft, his head rocking side to side
to create a spiraling suction at the tip, only to sink on the downbeat of the
music, then that belly-dancer roll, body undulating between Draco's legs as his
mouth slid up, his head rocking around the tip.
Sweat soaked, Remus felt his body react. A small part of him was horrified, but
it was as if he were hypnotized. He leaned backward on his knees, hands braced
behind him, as he became hard and hot, eyes glued to the two youths in the
center of the clearing.
Harry's mouth continued to work up and down as his hands unclasped and touched
Draco's legs, sliding upward along the back of his calves, thighs, and firm
ass. Draco's arms sank in unison with Harry's hands sliding up and grabbed
Harry's hair, pulling him off his erection. Harry sank backward, back arching
dramatically before sinking flat along the ground.
Draco turned and gyrated over the boy's prone body in the most erotic lap dance
Remus had ever seen. There was no hint of shame, embarrassment, or even power.
It was wild and free and expressed pure, wanton desire as he moved around
Harry's prone form. After several long minutes, the heat building and building
in Remus's blood, the blond bent at last to dance his fingertips along Harry's
skin.
Harry arched like a cat, languid and graceful, as Draco teased. Eventually the
blond sank to his knees and pulled Harry up to wrap slender legs tight around
his waist. Their hips rocked together, their heads thrown back, as the music
built. Remus was close to cumming.
He watched avidly as the boys reached completion, a glorious cry rising from
their throats, a sudden wave of powerful magic crashing over Remus with their
wild cries. He gave a yell, stars exploding behind his eyes. It was echoed by
the beings encircling the boys.
Blind and throbbing, the ecstasy lasted long minutes. Slowly the thunder of his
blood faded away. He could see the canopy above him, the sparkling stars where
the trees ended, and the glowing moon. He crawled to hands and knees, pushing
up into a kneeling position, his pants damp and uncomfortable.
Down in the clearing, Harry and Draco reclined against a grey boulder at the
bank of a river. The softly rushing water wound its way through the clearing,
reflecting the brightly lit star-studded sky and the dancing rainbow ribbon in
broken glimpses. The music played, but it flowed unfocused as the faeries
milled here and there. Platters of ripe fruits and raw meat were offered to the
two at the river bank, and the boys fed each other from hands and mouths.
Remus gave a low moan, knowing it was now near impossible to tear the two from
this plane since they had consumed sustenance from this place.
“Still your mournful cry, it is unwelcome here, Childe.”
Remus spun to see a petite and gorgeous faerie, golden hair falling in waves,
standing over him. Eyes bluer than any ocean stared down into his soul and he
shivered.
“You have passed three Challenges and reached our Heart. What brings you to our
Court?”
She spoke in a sweet, lilting voice that was human only barely. She offered no
threat and radiated kindness. White gossamer swathed her limber form, marking
her as different from all the other faeries he'd seen that night. The others
were black and silver, threat and death. He was still terrified out of his
mind.
“I've come for the human boys, Harry Potter and Draco Black. Please, Lady, they
have not had a chance to experience all that their human lives offer.”
“The one you call Draco Black promised to catch us three times, thus starting a
Ritual. He and his mate came searching two nights in a row. He is ours as he
broke his Vow and did not search for us the third night. Three times three.”
“It was an unintentional Vow, Lady,” Remus pleaded. “Please.”
She stared at him, eyes swirling with an alien intelligence. “They suffered
before coming to the Hearth. They feel peace and joy here like nowhere else.
Why would you wish to take them away?”
Remus bowed his head, struggling to express the aversion he felt to abandoning
Harry and Draco to this place, eternally to dance and eat and fuck for the
pleasure of these faeries. They would have no ambitions and goals, nor triumphs
or accomplishments. They would have no grief and pain, true, but they would not
be themselves, either, able to express their human personalities and souls.
A soft sigh above him and he looked up to see her looking down at him sadly.
“Your motives are pure. You have won the right to Challenge the Dancers.”
Remus had no idea what she was talking about, but he did not argue when she
gestured him to follow. He walked in her wake, eyes alert as he entered the
clearing and passed the dark faeries. They watched him through moon-glow eyes,
and it made him shiver.
The boys had finished eating and drinking. Entwined around each other, they
watched as the golden Lady approached with Remus in tow. When they got within
speaking distance, Draco pulled away from Harry and stood. He was a few inches
shorter than Remus, long limbed and graceful. Both he and Harry seemed on the
cusp between adolescence and adulthood.
Draco met Remus's eyes without recognition, his body braced as if ready to
fight.
“Hunter, I bring to you one who Challenges your place here,” the Lady spoke/
sang.
A growl rose up in Draco's throat in answer.
“Remus?”
He looked down into confused green eyes and smiled in relief. “Harry! We need
to go back.”
“Back?” Harry's head tilted curiously.
Draco stepped between them, breaking their line of sight. The growl had become
a snarl that was not possible from a human throat.
Remus swallowed nervously as he stared into those unreasoning silver eyes.
“Draco. Please. This isn't right,” he tried.
The blond crouched.
From the corner of his eye, he watched as the Lady led Harry away toward the
tree line. The faeries followed, standing at the edge of the clearing and
circling them in. Remus was sweating, suddenly burning hot. Confused, he
glanced up.
Horror like he'd never felt before settled at the base of his spine. The moon
was suddenly full and fat and beaming down on him. A bone snapped and he howled
in agony, eyes snapping toward Draco, mouth open to tell him to run.
Draco was no longer there. A black-scaled monster stood at the river bank
watching him through silver, slitted eyes. Feline ears matched the eyes, but
the head and body resembled that of a wolf. The long mussel full of very sharp
teeth was definitely all wolf. Except the paws, which were cat with
retractable, deadly claws. There was a whip thin tail that lashed snake-like at
the air. The smell of venom hit Remus's nose and he saw the way the saliva
glistened.
Then he was in too much pain to notice anything at all. His mind dissolved as a
wave of bloodlust pulled him under. - Kill! Tear! Destroy! -Looking through a
red filter of fury, he saw the creature crouching across from him. Gave a
warning snarl. The scent of human flesh hit his nose and he launched himself
toward the trees.
Prey! KILL!
Something heavy hit him hard. Tumbling. Scrabbling for purchase. Something bit
into his shoulder and he screamed his rage and pain, flinging the attacker off,
the wound burning hot fire! Screeching, he launched himself at the scaled
creature.
Rip! Tear! Kill!
The creature slid sideways away from his attack and claws scored his side.
Enraged bellow. Sharp turn and lunge, mouth open ready to snap closed on hot
flesh and tear... But the creature rushed forward, bowling him backward, making
his teeth snap at air. Pinned, throat enclosed in deadly teeth. Thrashing
wildly, maddened by the smell of human.
Teeth began to close around his throat as he struggled. Felt the blood spill,
smelled it in the air. Blood and venom. It filled his senses, allowing him to
go limp as the essence of human disappeared. He titled his head and exposed
more of his burning throat submissively. He was weaker. It was right.
The teeth held for a long moment. Then left him. A nose touched him, a paw
scratched at him. He didn't move. Limp, submissive. Burning teeth nibbled at
his ear. He flicked his heavy head up and licked at the creature's jaw, whining
as pain filled his body, venom spreading.
Alpha. Hurts.
A massive paw pressed into his chest, holding him still. He watched as the
creature turned human. A foot holding him down. He tensed, waiting for
bloodlust, but venom and his own blood blocked his senses. He slowly relaxed as
those silver eyes bore into him, demanding submission. He flopped his head
down, whining. A flash of teeth in the creature's human face: approval. Closed
his eyes as darkness and pain burned through him.
                                       …
Draco rode a wave of exhilaration and dominance as he stared down at the limp
monster under his feet. It was massive: six feet tall, thick ropy muscles,
scarred from battles won. And Draco had mastered it. He felt the heartbeat race
under his foot, only to stutter and then race again. He reached out.
Harry. Come.
Harry was at his side in less than a minute. His eyes were wide in – fear worry
anxiety. Draco soothed him by running his hand through his hair as the boy
knelt at the monster's side. Draco knelt behind him and wrapped him in his
arms, his hands sliding over Harry's warm skin. He grinned, fierce and wild, as
he felt Harry's emotions shift to –desire love need.
Lick your fingers. Suck on them for me,he ordered.
Harry moaned, his head coming to rest back on Draco's shoulder as he obeyed.
Wanton and lustful, he thrust two fingers into his mouth and sucked. Draco
panted in his ear, stroking over Harry's stomach and nipples as he watched
Harry begin to thrust his fingers in and out, slicking them.
Draco felt the bond hum as he rocked against Harry's ass and back. Felt the
wave begin to build. Good. Now reach inside his body and make him well. For me.
Let me see how good you are.
Harry moaned and reached forward, hips working at the air. His slick fingers
touched the monster's bleeding neck and sank into fur to touch the wound. Draco
rutted more firmly against Harry's warm skin as he felt the boy's power rise.
Felt it surge and spill, the power inexorable.
Harry fell to all fours, half over the monster's body, Draco folded along his
back. Draco set his mouth to the back of Harry's neck and bit hard before
sucking, tongue pressed hot to the salty skin. Harry arched with a wild cry and
the wave crashed over them both.
Draco came to slowly. He was curled around a naked Harry. A few feet away was
an equally naked Remus. He felt confused, brain fogged. Where were they? What
happened? He looked up and wondered why he was surprised to see warm sunlight
filtering through the leaves. Lifting his hand, he was surprised to see it so
small. But why should he? It looked normal. Wasn't it?
“Draco?”
He turned to see Harry blinking up at the canopy. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Harry answered and tilted his head to meet his eyes. “I think we
were very far away. It was...” He shook his head.
Draco scowled. Had someone messed with their memory?
A rustling sounded and he snapped his head around to see fairy fly up and hover
in front of his face. His eyes widened as took in the long golden hair floating
around it and the amazing blue eyes.
The time of Dreams has passed. You led many Hunts and Danced beautifully with
your Mate. We release you, but know you may call on Us when you have need,
Hunter.
Draco was stunned by the sweet, singing voice dancing through his mind. Before
he knew it, she darted in and pressed a tiny hand against the hollow of his
throat between his collar bones. Something warm and sticky bloomed on his skin.
She flew away, laughing a tinkling laugh.
“It looks like a weird circular knot,” Harry informed him, squinting at Draco's
throat. His glasses were missing as well as their clothes. “Like a dark blue
tattoo.”
Draco shook off the weirdness and stood up, stretching. He'd spent half his
life naked. It didn't bother him.
Harry stood at his side, also unconcerned about the missing clothes. “I think
we've played here,” he murmured, brow creased.
Draco thought so too, but it was warm. He wasn't cold at all even though they
were butt-naked, and it had been growing colder every day since they'd arrived.
He walked to Remus. The man looked fine, not a mark on him, and Draco nudged
his shoulder hard with his foot.
Groaning, Remus rolled onto his back and sat up. He blinked a few times before
turning bright red and drawing his legs up to hide his nudity.
Draco rolled his eyes. “What happened?” he demanded. “Where are our clothes and
why do we feel so weird?” He tilted his head toward Harry who was shrugging his
shoulders as if to settle something.
Remus blinked at them before tilting his head back with a wild laugh. “We're
back! Oh Merlin!”
“Back?” Harry asked. “You said that before. Didn't you?”
Remus was too busy chuckling, curled over his bent knees to answer.
Draco kicked the man's thigh. “Hey! Answer us!”
“Sorry.” Remus got to his feet, hands cupping himself and a huge smile
plastered across his face. “Let's find our way back to Lusio, shall we? While I
tell you a fairy tale.”
Draco sighed, took Harry's hand, and took the lead. He listened in confusion as
Remus told his tale of finding rabbits, almost starving to death, and then
finding a magical fairy ring. Remus stuttered and blushed as he told about the
fairies dancing. Clearly the man was leaving stuff out, but it was probably
fairy sex stuff, so Draco left it alone. The man was a prude. Remus then told
of finding Harry and Draco eating at the fairy buffet or whatever, and why that
had scared Remus so bad. Draco couldn't remember any of it.
You remember?he asked, glancing back at Harry.
Harry shook his head.
“Fuck,” he spat. “I fucking hate fairies.” He held Harry's hand tighter and
looked over his other shoulder to see Remus watching them with joy in his eyes.
He felt reluctant gratitude. “Thanks. For getting us out.” His cheeks burned
with shame at not being able to escape on his own.
Amber eyes met and held his. “I will always come for you.”
Blush darkening, Draco scowled and snapped his head forward. Harry's – love
amusement happiness– wore away at his anger so that by the time they reached
the village, he was mostly calm.
He came to a stop as they hit the clearing. The green grass could hardly be
seen from under a carpet of wild flowers. They grew everywhere, purples and
blues and pinks. The warmth of the sun caressed his skin. Suddenly he knew what
had happened.
“Winter's over. It's spring.”
“What?” Remus asked, coming to stand at his side.
“The fairy said the time for Dreaming was over. And the Shaman said something
about feeling the winter coming, the time when the Earth sleeps or something.
So we were gone the whole winter.”
“Bloody hell,” Remus muttered. He eyed the boys. “You look a bit taller, but
not so much. Hopefully it's only been the one winter and not a few years along
with it. Come on. Let's find our cottage. We need clothes and answers.”
Draco moved to step forward, but stopped when Harry didn't move with him, his
hand pulling at Draco's. He turned to see Harry's eyes wide with – anxiety. His
other hand lifted to his throat.
“Draco...”
Draco pulled him into his arms and hugged him. “Shhh. It's alright. I'll find
ya a new one.” He leaned down to place his mouth on Harry's throat where the
collar used to be and bit down hard enough to bruise. He sucked warm blood to
the surface under Harry's skin. You're mine, Harry.
Harry gave a low moan and went limp in his arms – trust joy relief need.
Chapter end.
A/N:Well, that was fun! The boys are now nearing their seventh birthday. Let me
know what you think!
 
***** Interlude *****
A/N:I worked really hard on this chapter. A lot of summary and exposition, but
I really like how it turned out. I was able to get through a lot of information
this way and move forward through time. Please let me know what you think.
                                   Interlude
Remus and the boys – all three naked – were seen by a few neighbors as they
made the dash to their cabin. No one was home, but all of their things still
remained. If Draco's assumption was correct, and it really looked like he was,
then it wasn't surprising that Laila wasn't there. She had a life and a job.
She couldn't stay puttering around a cabin in a secret village far away from
society for three months or so just to wait for them. Remus was just grateful
the village leader hadn't given the cabin to someone else. That meant the
people of Lusio hadn't given up on their eventual return.
They were barely dressed when visitors arrived: the Shaman and the village
leader, a petite blonde-haired women who was going grey. Lucinda Balfour had
intense blue-green eyes and a no-nonsense expression as she eyed them
suspiciously. Remus let them in, cheeks still warm from having to streak naked
across the village.
“Thank you,” Balfour said politely as she stepped into the living room, the
Shaman silent at her side. “We are very happy that you've returned.”
She caught sight of Draco standing with his arms crossed, leaning in the living
room doorway. His eyes had gone silver and the suspicion in them made her own
seem like nothing. Remus shivered and turned his back, trying to focus on their
visitors. Draco had been an intense child before the abduction, but there was
something even more strange to his stare now.
“Thank you for holding this cabin for us and keeping our things,” he said
quietly, gesturing for them to have a seat at the couch. He sat with them in
the armchair adjacent.
“Do you remember what happened?” Balfour demanded. Her gaze was still on Draco
as she asked, but it was Remus who answered.
He told them the story just the same as he'd told the boys. He left out the sex
scene and fight. First, it was ingrained habit to keep everything werewolf a
secret. Second, it was only a very blurry memory. He remembered the rage,
remembered pain and submission, and the vague impression of a black monster,
but that was it. And as for the sex...
He kept that secret for obvious reasons. The Asclepius and Laila both
emphasized how important it was to keep the boys together. Bringing the fact
that the two six-year-olds were sexually active was not the way to go about
that. Even he still struggled with that knowledge. He didn't want to give
Balfour any excuse to claim Draco and Harry were unhealthy and tear them apart.
“It sounds like a very trying ordeal,” Balfour remarked, but even though the
words were sympathetic her delivery made them perfunctory. Remus's metaphorical
hackles rose.
Harry entered the room, head bowed shyly, carrying a tray with three cups of
steaming hot tea, a small creamer, and a small bowl of sugar. Balfour's watched
his every move, clearly interested. Harry said nothing as he set the tray on
the coffee table and then handed each adult a cup.
“How are you feeling, Harry?” Balfour finally asked.
She reached for his arm, and Remus's eyes snapped to Draco who still leaned in
the doorway. The blond watched unblinking, but he made no move to enter
further. Remus looked back at Harry and saw the boy had sidestepped her hand
and now stood just out of reach. His hands were folded in front of him as he
answered politely.
“I feel okay. I don't remember it at all. I was meditating at the statue and
then woke up in the forest with Draco and Remus.”
She smiled, but it was not a warm expression as she looked the small boy up and
down. “I'm glad to hear that.”
Harry gave a vague nod of his head and turned to leave the room, but Balfour
stopped him, saying, “Would it be okay if our Shaman looked you over. We want
to be sure there aren't any compulsions or strange faerie magic active on you
still.”
Harry faced her again, but his head lifted to check with Draco. The blond
strode into the room. Remus couldn't take his eyes off the boy. He felt strange
around Draco now. He had no idea what it meant. Everything was still so
strange. He found himself holding his breathe waiting for the blond's decision.
Draco took Harry's hand in his and gave their visitors a look of innocence.
“Will it hurt? Is he gonna try and see what happened to us?” he asked, voice
small and shaded with hesitation, maybe even fear.
Remus felt his eyes go wide in surprise, having never seen Draco act like that
before, but otherwise he held himself still. Draco's act was near perfect. Only
the cold intelligence in those still silver eyes gave Draco away. Glancing at
his visitors, he saw that they had relaxed, obviously not knowing Draco well
enough to see this for the deception it was.
Balfour offered Draco a reassuring smile. “No, sweetie. He's just going to
check for foreign magics.”
Draco gave a shaky smile and pulled Harry closer to his side. “Kay.”
The Shaman stood, staff in hand. He looked exactly as he had the night they
disappeared. Silver hair in low pig-tails that fell over his shoulders, face
creased with age, dressed in traditional Native American leathers. He placed
his staff in the crook of his arm and held his hands out to the boys, a
melodious chant rising from his throat as he tipped his head back.
Remus watched in fascination, but nothing really noticeable happened. He felt
magic rise in the room slightly, and the boys stood still, hands clasped, and
stared up at the Shaman, blinking occasionally. Two minutes later, the Shaman
turned to face Remus and continued chanting. Surprised, he held still, but he
didn't feel anything odd. The Shaman dropped his arms and retook his seat.
“You have residue of another plane, but it is not alive. You are clean of
spiritual interference,” he intoned.
Balfour smiled and took a sip of her tea. “That is very good to hear. You've
been through enough already.”
Remus eyed her, but he couldn't tell if she was sincere or not. “May I ask the
date?”
“Of course. My apologies.” She set her tea cup down and gave him a smile. “It
is March 23rd, the day of the Spring Equinox, 1987. You have been missing four
months.”
Remus swallowed hard. Even though they had already suspected that, it was still
disorienting to hear. A hand touched his shoulder and he looked in surprise to
see that Draco had moved to his side. He wasn't looking at Remus, his eyes were
still on their visitors. Something warm moved through him at the blond's touch
and he felt his nerves steady.
Draco dropped his hand from Remus and moved back to Harry. “We're gonna go to
our room,” he said, looking at Remus as if for permission.
“Of course,” he murmured. He gave their visitors a smile as the boys took their
leave. “We're still trying to find our feet. A little rest and I'm sure we'll
be put to rights.”
Balfour smiled a politician's smile. “I will leave you three to get settled.
Please let me know if you need anything. President Smackhammer has rented this
cabin for you indefinitely for as long as you need it.”
“Thank you.” Remus bowed his head and made a mental note to contact both
Smackhammer and Dumbledore to give them updates.
                                       …
Draco cornered Remus as soon as their guests left. He listened as Remus
explained his impressions of the meeting and what was normal and what wasn't
due to it involving Harry Potter. He thought furiously as Remus explained he'd
have to contact the American magical president, to offer polite gratitude for
the cabin and for the permission to stay in the country without the visas
technically required, and also make a report to Dumbledore.
Draco predicted Dumbledore would demand their immediate return and ordered
Remus to stall as long as he could. That would give him the time to really
buckle down and learn what he needed to know about the Wizarding world before
he and Harry arrived there. The time for recovery and play had ended. The world
was breathing down their necks, and Draco would not go in blind.
In the end, Remus managed to secure their stay in America until June 29th.
Hogwarts closed for the summer on the last Friday of June, so Remus had
convinced Dumbledore that the following Saturday, the 29th, would be the best
time to return. Dumbledore agreed that the boys would reside in Hogwarts until
they could work out who would become their legal guardian.
So Remus and the boys settled into the cabin for their extended stay. Once she
heard of their return, Laila arrived. She was overjoyed to see them, weeping
and hugging them for several minutes before calming. She promised to continue
their therapy sessions for as long as they were in America, and as she started
up again, Draco noticed Remus no longer looked like road kill afterward.
Something had settled in the man. He was still timid and soft-spoken, but there
was a stability and loyalty there that Draco was glad to see.
Draco did eventually get Harry's collar. After much badgering, Remus brought
home a black one, a thiner version than the red had been. It also didn't have a
loop to attach a leash, only a slim silver buckle. It annoyed Draco that it
mattered so much. It was basically jewelry and it made Harry more comfortable,
so what was the problem?
After a longer conversation with both Laila and Remus, Draco was made to
understand that it was unacceptable to society and made people uncomfortable,
but it annoyed Draco that he had to care what other people thought. That he had
to care about the opinions of a hypocritical society who created a world that
allowed sex slaves and child abuse to exist and then felt they could judge
others on how they chose to cope in such a world.
Those people who would judge Harry had no idea how hard life could get and were
willfully blind to how disgusting human beings were at their core. Draco didn't
care about them or their opinions in the slightest, but Laila and Remus had
convinced him how important it was to play the part in order to make use of the
conveniences of society, for Harry if for nothing else.
And it was true that Harry liked people. He liked stories and being useful and
belonging. None of that compared to how much he loved Draco. He'd give it all
up if he had to choose, but Draco didn't want him to make such a choice. He
wanted Harry to have all the things he needed to be truly happy.
So over the course of the following months, Harry joined Draco as Remus and
Laila instructed them on Wizarding culture and history. They taught the boys
the names of important people and the expected behaviors of someone of Harry's
status.
However, Draco made sure Harry was occupied with housework, practicing reading,
or with Laila when he cornered Remus for lessons on the war. He wanted to know
everything he could about Voldemort and how the war had been fought. He wanted
to know about other wars with Dark Lords, and Remus taught him a lot about
Dumbledore and Grindelwald.
By June Draco wasn't an expert, but he felt he had a good understanding of what
they were walking into. He'd also spent some time helping Laila teach Harry how
to behave differently around others. They called it a 'public mask', a persona
both haughty and impervious. It wasn't perfect, but over time they hoped it was
something Harry could grow into more.
As much as Harry didn't like pretending to be something he wasn't, he
understood that it was necessary or other people might try to take advantage of
him because of his famous parents. He didn't have the psychological ability to
protect himself, but he would protect Draco. Once it was explained to him that
people using him or hurting him was the same as people doing that to Draco, he
had put more effort into learning. He represented Draco now, and he had to
present a strong front because to do otherwise would make Draco look weak.
Still, it was hard at first, nearly impossible, and Harry had many panic
attacks, terrified that he was incapable of doing what Draco asked of him. By
June, however, he was a little more comfortable and had the beginnings of a
good 'public mask'.
The only hiccup during this time was on June 5th, Draco's seventh birthday.
Draco had grown surly and withdrawn. He adamantly refused any type of party,
much to everyone's confusion and worry. At first Harry had been upset that
Draco was upset, but the blond had whispered a confession the night before his
birthday as they tried to fall asleep.
“I'm sorry, Harry. I'm not mad at you. I just... I can't stop thinking about
Liam. I miss him... I don't want to have a party, not right now. I know it's my
fault he left, but it's just not the same without him. I know I'm upsetting
you, and that makes me feel worse, but I can't do it, I'm sorry... ” Grey eyes
bright with frustrated tears, he'd asked Harry, “Can't we go somewhere, just
us? Please?”
Harry felt his heart break. Draco rarely asked him for something like this,
something just for himself, and he became determined to give him what he
needed. Feeling protective, Harry had taken the lead, standing between the
adults and Draco as they argued about birthday traditions and asked over and
over 'what's wrong'. He'd packed up the cake and told them they'd be back by
dinner, pulling a silent Draco after him.
                                       …
It was a warm day, blue skies and hardly a breeze. Birds chirped and green
things grew everywhere. The hollow tree was solid, wrapping them in a soothing
darkness with the smell of earth and life. Harry sat at the very back, deep in
the tree's shadowed belly. Draco lay on his side, head in Harry's lap, his
breath ghosting across Harry's t-shirt above his stomach. Harry stroked Draco's
hair and hummed. He loved Draco so much, and it made his heart swell and fill
near to bursting as those grey eyes stared up at him with a mirrored love and
gratitude.
Eventually they grew hungry. They sat together, shoulder-to-shoulder, as they
ate several pieces of cake. Draco tickled his sides and he giggled. When they
were full, they raced each other to the near-by stream and drank water. Eyes
glinting with mischief, Draco stripped out of his clothes and Harry quickly
followed suit.
Laughing, they took turns tackling each other in the shallow stream, splashing
and playing. As the sun began to sink, Draco lay on the bank to dry. Harry,
feeling a rush of joy so strong he couldn't contain it, began to dance.
Harry, so beautiful, don't stop.
He danced for Draco, putting his whole heart into every movement. He spun,
dipped, wove his arms and hands into swirling patterns. He kicked his legs and
rocked to a rhythm he heard in his dreams. So wrapped up in his dance, he
didn't see Draco stand. He opened his eyes, panting, as warm hands slid over
his skin. Moaning, he draped his arms over Draco's shoulders. They moved
together. Never once stumbling or tripping over each other's feet. They swayed
and rocked, going from smooth slow movements to something more wild and rapid
and back again.
Throughout the dance, Draco's mouth lighted here and there along his skin,
setting Harry on fire. Those perfect lips skimmed the inside of his arm,
brushed his jaw, moved over Harry's nipple during a dip before finally latching
onto his mouth. Harry tumbled backward, Draco pressing him down.
Moaning, rubbing his tongue along Draco's as the blond licked hungrily at his
mouth, Harry spread his thighs to cradle Draco's hips. They rocked together, a
smooth undulating wave as the kiss went on and on.
Love you love you love you... Draco's voice whispered along his mind.
Yours forever always please need you love you yours...Harry's heart sang back.
                                       …
Remus and Laila didn't ask questions when they eventually returned to the
cabin, but they relaxed when they saw it was Draco in the lead. The blond's
eyes were bright and fierce once more, and Harry was also back to normal,
offering them a shy smile before moving to the stove to finish the dinner they
had started.
Days full of lessons and shared meals passed until June 28th finally arrived.
Laila insisted on a Going-Away party, partially in revenge for having been
denied a birthday party for Draco. They had kept to themselves mostly during
their stay in Lusio, so they expected the party to be very small. The only
guest they invited other then themselves was the Shaman, who had stopped by at
least once a week to talk to the boys and Remus, usually about magic, but
sometimes just to talk.
So it was a surprise, therefore, when two very unexpected visitors showed up at
their little cottage, which was strewn with balloons and streamers: President
Smackhammer, who seemed genuinely sorry for their departure, and the Asclepius,
who arrived with apprentice in tow.
From President Smackhammer, Draco received a malachite pendant, the dark green
and pale green stripped stone was intricately carved into the shape of a
griffin. It was an exact replica of the statue at the center of the village. It
was expensive and beautiful, but more importantly it was a portkey to Lusio in
case he and Harry ever needed a place to rest or hide. About an inch tall, it
hung on a chain, but when Draco slipped it over his head, he quickly took it
off again. It's size made it uncomfortable to wear. Instead, he wrapped the
chain around his wrist and fist, promising to put it somewhere safe.
The Asclepius gave them matching silver rings. The round stone fitted to the
top of the rings was white and glossy. The Asclepius explained that it was a
selenite marble severed in half. The Asclepius had chosen selenite because it
was a stone with powerful vibrations that called for unity. He fitted the ring
on the index finger of each boys' dominant hand – for Harry that was his right
and for Draco that was his left. He explained that many years ago, and still in
the Jewish culture, a ring on the dominant index finger symbolized marriage.
Woven into the unity stone was a location spell. Using the rings, the boys
would always be able to find each other if they got separated.
Draco and Harry bowed deeply the way Remus had taught them and formally thanked
them for their kindness. Both men gave slight bows in return, indicating that
they were pleased with the reception of their gifts.
The other gifts they received were more mundane. The Shaman gave them a
beautiful ten-inch dream catcher to keep nightmares at bay, Remus gave them
both a miscellaneous bag of Wizarding candy, and Laila gave them each a book.
For Draco a book titled Art_of_Manipulation:_How_to_Get_What_You_Want_Out_of
People_in_Business,_in_Your_Personal_Life,_and_in_Your_Love_Life by R. B.
Sparkman. For Harry, a cookbook of traditional Wizarding recipes, including
instructions on basic household and cooking spells.
Toward the end of the evening Laila brought out her Wizarding camera and
insisted they all pose. Moving together, the diverse group stood in front of
the couch, a Farewell banner hangin along the ceiling behind them above the
windows and balloons drifting along the floor at their feet. It was a very
interesting mix of people.
The Asclepius, who wore elaborate robes with beads, feathers, and precious
stones worked in endless spiraling patterns. His hair stood wild around his
head, white as a cloud. His face was cragged and wrinkled with age, his eyes a
fogged hazel, his skin a soft tan. In his hands he held a staff with a slender
brown snake wrapped around it. His apprentice stood at his side. She was in her
late twenties. Her brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, her eyes a
mix of blue-green, her skin a warm honey, and her expression serious. She wore
a gem- and feather-strewn Healer’s robe.
Then there was the president. Cyrus Smackhammer was the tallest of all of them,
standing at six-feet five-inches. He was of Native American decent and had
long, glossy black hair that hung straight as a ruler down the middle of his
back. He wore pale silver robes and at least a dozen necklaces in various
lengths with charms and crystals. His skin was reddish-brown and he had black,
piercing eyes. Smackhammer's face was angular with a strong jaw. There were
faint scars on his right cheek and through his left eyebrow. He was smooth-
skinned, wearing no beard, and his robes were decorated with feathers along his
waist. A few could be seen woven into his long hair. He also carried a staff.
It was thick and almost as tall as Remus. Runes were carved into its entire
length. Bones, beads, and feathers fell from a cord wrapped around the top.
The old Native American Shaman stood next to Smackhammer. He was the last
holding a staff. His was also decorated, but not as elaborately as the
president's. It had runes and only a few feathers hanging from the top. He wore
pale brown leather pants also with ornate stitching, a matching vest, and
slipper-like moccasins. His long hair was silver-white and tied into low
pigtails that fell over the front of his shoulders and down his chest. His face
was creased and wrinkled with time much like the Asclepius.
Remus stood next to the Shaman. He was the shortest man there, taller only than
the female apprentice. He wore a white button-down and dark blue jeans, his
feet in brown leather boots. His dirty blond hair was brushed back from his
face, his eyes a golden amber. He had a scar across his nose and two deep marks
on his cheeks, but his smile was warm and genuine. He had a hand on Harry's
shoulder, the boy standing in front of him. Draco - to Harry's right- stood in
front of the Shaman. The boys were holding hands, Harry smiling shyly and Draco
looking bored.
Laila stood at the far end with her dark skin, white teeth, and long
dreadlocks. She wore a bright purple blouse and a pale pink skirt. Her smile
was widest of all of them, her dark eyes sparkling with humor and life. She
moved the most in the photo, nudging Remus's shoulder and flashing the peace
sign. Harry would occasionally duck his head shyly or glance at Draco, and
Remus would roll his eyes at Laila, but otherwise the other figures remained
mostly still.
Draco placed the photo along with the one of Liam, Harry, and him at the zoo in
Harry's journal. Remus had spelled them so they wouldn't fall out. Tucking
their gifts and the journal into their few bags, Draco felt ready to leave. He
knew things would be hard, but there was nothing left but to face whatever the
future had in store.
Chapter end.
A/N:Next chapter they arrive in the Wizarding world! OMG!
Please let me know if you thought this chapter was sufficient or if I rushed.
I'm also curious how many skimmed this chapter because it was mostly summary.
Anyone care to satisfy my curiosity?






 
***** Reintroduction *****
A/N:I am vastly interested in your thoughts on this chapter. It was so great to
finally write this scene, but I'm not satisfied with it. Can't put my finger on
why, though.
                                Reintroduction
Dumbledore stood calmly, hands clasped behind his back as he waited for the
boys to arrive. He'd been overwrought and anxious since Remus had left him to
search for young Harry. Hearing of their abduction by the Muggle equivalent of
Death Eaters had been terrible, and for the very next check-in after their
rescue to be missed...
Dumbledore had his first bout of chest pains during Remus's long silence. Once
Remus had finally contacted him four months later, it was almost beyond belief
that he and the boys had been spirited away by faeries. Clearly Harry was one
of those souls who attracted the strange and dangerous.
To be honest, Dumbledore had been anxious about allowing the boys and Remus to
stay in America, but he'd also been relieved to have the space to plan. He'd
need to be vigilant and crafty if he was going to keep Harry safe, especially
from his own karma. He'd need safety nets and back-up plans for any
contingency. That being said, he'd want to get familiar with the child before
publicly reintroducing Harry to the Wizarding world and beginning the possibly
ugly custody battle that would likely start if he didn't have things lined up
neatly. It was absolutely out of the question for Harry to return to his Muggle
family.
Secrecy was the highest priority right now. Therefore Remus had returned by
international portkey through the proper channels at the Ministry. Dumbledore
didn't need someone to notice Remus had left for 'tourism' purposes and never
officially returned again only to be somehow back in the UK. It was always
important to keep Remus out of the Ministry's eye as much as possible to keep
his lycanthropy a secret.
So while Remus was making everything official and neat, closing off that loose
end, Harry and Draco were traveling via an illegal international portkey
created by Dumbledore and finished by President Smackhammer himself. The
portkey was targeted to Hogwarts' Great Hall, and Dumbledore had the elves move
the tables and benches aside, giving the boys plenty of space in case there was
some degree of variance on their landing.
He did not need them landing on furniture and getting hurt. It was crucial that
Harry have a positive first impression of the Wizarding world. The poor boy
knew too much about America now, and it was possible he'd be tempted to return
there permanently, which was why Madam Pomfrey was also waiting with him. She'd
be able to help tend to the boys expected pains and illness after such a long
portkey trip.
Dumbledore loosed a careful breath, keeping his mind calm as he waited. Ten
more seconds. For the past four months, he'd spent the spring contacting people
across the country, reestablishing old ties, building his public image, and
feeling out his enemies and those in power all in preparation for Harry's
return. Five seconds. His chest pains had faded away once he'd had his
connections more stable, and he now felt ready to welcome home the Wizarding
world's lost child-hero. One second.
There was a pull in the magic of the school that he felt deep in his bones as
the two children passed through the wards that he had opened to allow their
entrance. They appeared in a blink of invisible power and fell backward as if
pushed by a giant's hand, skidding a foot or two before coming to a stop.
They'd been pushed in opposite directions: Harry on his stomach, head toward
the Great Hall doors, and the blond child on his back, his head pointing toward
the Head table and coming to a stop only a foot from Dumbledore's feet.
As if from far away, he could hear Madam Pomfrey tending to Harry, could hear
the boys' panting breaths and their nearly inaudible moans as their bodies
reacted to the forceful transport halfway across the planet. He'd been prepared
to cast cushioning charms on the floor and to wait for them to recover, but his
eyes were fastened to the face below him. Even as he watched, it was as if a
film were being peeled away from his vision. A blockage in his comprehension
was pushed aside. A massive spell was broken.
Eyes wide, Dumbledore stared down at the visage of the stolen Heir. Draco
Black... was the lost Draco. Lucius. Malfoy! Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, was
bonded in a three layer bond to a Malfoy, the lost Malfoy! How was it possible?
His shock shattered as his mind began to race. The Fidelus Charm? Amazing! It
had been modified not to hide a place but to hide a name. Such ingenuity of
thought! As to who... He believed there was a hint in the name Draco was left
with: Black. There weren't many Black's left, but it could have also been an
enemy to the Black family. He'd be able to narrow it down if necessary.
However, all of these considerations paled before the realization that things
had gotten vastly more complicated. How was he going to manage this?
“Headmaster, we need to get them to the Hospital Wing. They are drifting in and
out of consciousness. I see no real damage, but I'd feel better with them under
my care until they settle.”
Dumbledore nodded vaguely and helped her levitate the children to the
infirmary. He was careful to let Madam Pomfrey go before him. He did not want
her aware of the blond's identity yet. He needed a few more minutes to grasp
the situation before he dealt with her surprise.
And surprised she was! She exclaimed over the boy who'd been stolen as an
infant and remarked on how delighted his parents would be.
To stall, Dumbledore suggested sedating the two children, and she immediately
agreed. Sleep was best for them really, to recover from portkey travel, and it
would also let her do a discrete examination. She felt great urgency to
reassure herself that they were physically well after their experiences among
the Muggles and their time among the faeries.
Dumbledore stood aside as she worked her magic and ran her tests. He couldn't
take his eyes off of the innocent face of the Malfoy Heir. The boy had no
connection to his family, no ties to the Dark, but his family had ties to him.
Now that the secret was broken, any who saw Draco would recognize him for who
he was.
It wouldn't take long for Lucius and Narcissa to become aware of their son,
Dumbledore was sure of it, and if it were discovered that he'd had the boy for
any length of time before coming forward... The whole of the Wizarding world
would tear him apart. Draco had become an icon, a missing prince. He was as
famous and beloved as Harry! Mostly because his family would not let the world
forget their son.
Regardless of Remus insisting the boys couldn't be separated, Dumbledore had to
see this invulnerable bond for himself. Gathering his magic, he allowed his
vision to shift. He opened himself to the currents and magic around him. Madam
Pomfrey's magic was gentle and relentless, it flowed like an endless sigh, a
clear pale green. He moved forward as soon as her work was done and she went
off to her desk to analyze her findings. Bracing himself, Dumbledore stepped up
to young Draco's bed and placed his hand upon his head.
Magic fierce and passionate snapped closed around him like a metal bear trap
with bloody, serrated teeth. The blood was old and new, Draco's as well as
Draco's enemies'. Deep green, verging on black, it was supple and flexible,
shaped by an analytic and ruthless mind. Dumbledore trembled at the touch of
that magic, shocked that it came from such a young child.
He almost took his hand from the boy, horrified, when... There... At the
center, peeking through the prowling green power, there was a gorgeous golden
light... It was so gentle and pure, so soft. Dumbledore carefully wove his way
between the sleeping bands of power and realized it was protecting something.
Golden light throbbed in slow pulses, and it was Harry...
The boy's magic was self-sacrificing, loving... It filled Dumbledore's tired
soul with comfort and strength. All the fear from before washed out of him, but
the longer he looked into that golden power, he realized that calm, gentle
surface was just that. The golden light was fragile, nearly insubstantial, and
all the more beautiful for it, but deep within the depths lurked something
Dumbledore could not name.
Taking his hand from Draco, he moved blindly to the other bed and placed his
hand upon Harry. He was awash in the gentle light once more but could see
clearly now what else lay beneath the surface. Verdant green wrapped around a
howling storm of mindless destruction. White lighting hotter than the sun
lashed and cracked through the psychic heart of Harry Potter. There was no
direction or intelligence, wild and insane, it hissed and spat, held at bay by
the cords of green that held it secure, held it safe, filtering that ferocious
madness into the golden waves that had soothed Dumbledore's soul.
By Merlin...
Draco's magic may be dangerous and shaped with a rigid control that honestly
terrified him, but anything less would not have been able to contain Harry's
wild magic. Draco was all that stood between Harry and mass destruction.
Dumbledore stumbled back from the bed. He was shaking. Sweat dewed his face and
he slipped his glasses off to rub at his eyes. “What have we wrought?” he
whispered. Two young children had been forged by experiences so monstrous that
their magic and minds had twisted into gruesome shapes. And yet...
He stepped close once more and this time laid his hands on the children
simultaneously. Green and gold locked together. Green braced and sheltered the
gold when it threatened to snap; gold illuminated the green in the places that
grew too shadowed and softened the sharp edges. They were eternally spiraling,
equally entwined without the common spikes and flares of magical bonds. They
combined into a single glorious signature...
The American Asclepius had been correct. These two were fully bonded, and the
bond was so deep that to attempt to sever it would damage both children to an
enormous extent. Folding his hands behind his back, Dumbledore turned and
strode out of the infirmary. Tears glistened on his cheeks. He needed some air
and then he would tackle the challenge before him.
                                       …
Draco felt like he'd been in a wreck. Scowling, he pushed himself up. He was on
a bed with a pillow and blanket in an empty, unfamiliar room. Harry? There.
Beside him on another bed. Green eyes blinked open as he watched. Draco slipped
from his sheets – stiffness and cold feet hardly registering – and sank his
hand in Harry's messy hair.
- confusion anxiety need -
I'm here,he said into Harry's mind even as he took in their surroundings.
The room was massive with rows of white beds. Huge windows that let in a flood
of sunlight stood along one wall. The ceiling was set at a sharp angle high
above their heads with massive wooden beams. Grey stone walls and floor. A huge
doorway with two heavy, closed wooden doors.
He turned back to Harry, pleased to see the boy had calmed down. He helped
Harry sit up and kissed his cheek before asking, “How're you feelin'?”
“Wobbly,” Harry admitted softly. He was looking around through squinted eyes.
Draco noticed a small bedside table. Harry's glasses were on top and their
shoes and socks were on the ground underneath it. He handed Harry his glasses,
socks, and shoes. He quickly pulled on his own and shoved his feet into his
sneakers. Fortunately for Dumbledore they were still dressed in the same
clothes they had left Lusio in: jeans and button-ups. Harry's jeans were pale
blue and his shirt was white while Draco wore black jeans and a pale grey
shirt.
They would have been more comfortable in t-shirts, but Draco had wanted to look
presentable when they met Dumbledore. No one had told them they'd end up in a
hospital room. He also didn't like that they were alone. He hadn't expected
that. He thought Dumbledore would be all over Harry as soon as they arrived.
Then again maybe he had been. Who knew how long they'd been here.
Glare growing darker, he took Harry by the hand and led the way toward the
doors. If Dumbledore wouldn't come to them, he'd go to Dumbledore. An older
woman in a floor length, old-fashioned dress and white apron bustled out of a
doorway much smaller than the large wooden ones that held his attention. He
hadn't noticed the smaller door because it had been partially concealed by a
massive silver cabinet.
She had her arms open as if to hug them as she approached. “Boys! I didn't
expect you up so soon! The portkey really did you in,” she exclaimed in a soft,
excited voice as she tried to herd them back toward the beds. “You should
really rest a moment more. I don't want you to get dizzy and...”
Draco stood his ground, forcing her to stop or run them over. He met her eyes
and said as calmly as he was able as anger beat through his veins. “I'd like to
see Dumbledore. Now.”
Her mouth fell open a little in surprise and she blinked hard. “W-well... He
should be returning any moment...”
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “Is there a waiting room?”
“The beds...” she tried.
“Are for patients. We feel fine,” he insisted. He wasn't about to let
Dumbledore see them as small or defenseless. He was going to make it clear that
he and Harry would not be manipulated or “managed”. Draco had a voice, and
Dumbledore was going to know it from the start.
“Well!” The woman's face had grown red, her surprise turning into offended
anger.
He gave her a cold look and folded his arms. Harry stood at his back –calm
trust – flowing down the bond. The standoff was interrupted, however, by
Dumbledore's arrival.
The wooden doors opened inwardly, and a tall, thin man in pale purple robes
strode forward. He had a wrinkled face, a waist-length white beard and equally
long white hair. His blue eyes twinkled above half-moon glasses as he beamed
happily at them.
“Draco. Harry. I see you are awake,” he said cheerfully. “Good. Come with me.
We have much to talk about.”
Draco gave a stiff little bow toward the red-faced nurse and took Harry's hand.
He said nothing as he followed the old wizard from the hospital and into the
stone hallway beyond. Draco couldn't help staring around. They really were in a
castle. He could feel Harry's – curiosity – and it fueled his own.
Paintings moved and gossiped along the walls as they walked through the quiet
corridors. Knights in shinning armor stood straight and proud only to bend and
turn as they watched them go by. Catching glimpses of the outside world through
windows showed them courtyards and castle towers, green rolling hills and a
dense forest. The grounds were massive! The castle looked enormous too from
what he could tell. It'd be very easy to get lost. Draco felt reassured by that
and nervous at the same time.
Eventually they stopped at another door. This one had black iron bands
supporting it with an iron ring as the door handle. Dumbledore pushed it inward
easily and held it open for them. Draco warily stepped past into the sitting
room beyond. There were fat sofas and soft rugs, coffee tables and bookshelves,
and two windows with thick curtains hooked to either side to let the light
shine in. There were a lot of reds and browns, among other colors, and it had a
lived in, homey feel.
Dumbledore stepped past them and took a seat on one of the sofas. He gestured
them closer. “Come in, dear boys. Come in. The teachers like to use this room
as a place to rest between classes or as an informal place to meet. Please,
make yourselves comfortable.”
Public mask, Harry,Draco reminded as he released the younger boy's hand.
Expression blank, he sat on the sofa that was positioned at an angle to the one
Dumbledore had chosen.
Harry sat beside him, hands folded in his lap. Head up, expression calm, direct
eye contact with the person Draco was talking too, and not touching Draco was
the extent of his “public mask” so far, and he could only maintain it for a
little while before he felt too overwhelmed or nervous.
You're doing perfect,Draco praised and his lips twitched as red rose in Harry's
cheeks. Then his attention shifted fully to Dumbledore. “Thank you for the
portkey.”
“It was my pleasure.” Dumbledore gave them a charming smile, his hair silver in
the sunlight. “I'm sorry it was so hard on you. Would you like a drink? Snack?”
Before either could respond, he called, “Pippy!”
A soft pop and a house elf appeared. “Yes, Headmaster sir?”
It was small, coming to about Draco's shoulders in height and wickedly thin.
Its hands looked like spider legs, and its eyes were huge and blue, taking up
half of its face. It had a long nose and wide mouth full of teeth, and it wore
some kind of pale sack. Its ears were long and pointed and moved in odd ways.
Its head was bald. Remus had told them about house elves, of course, but seeing
it was something else.
“Snacks and tea, please, my good elf,” the old man ordered cheerfully. His eyes
twinkled at them while they waited a moment and the elf returned. Draco refused
to be unsettled and merely observed the old wizard while they waited.
Pippy arrived with a tray stacked tall with finger sandwiches, a pot of tea
with three delicate glasses, and three small porcelain plates. They watched in
fascination as it bustled about serving everyone. Harry tried to help, but it
squeaked in distress so he settled back and simply waited. Eventually they all
had a small plate and a cup. Harry sampled both the food and the drink and
murmured compliments. The elf's ears waggled before disappearing.
“Amazing creatures,” Dumbledore commented as he sat back with a happy sigh,
sipping his tea.
“Yes,” Draco agreed. He didn't bother trying either the sandwich or the tea. He
wondered what game the crafty old man was playing. “So... What now?”
Dumbledore lost some of his cheer as he met Draco's eyes. “I'll be honest. I'm
not fully sure, my boy. I had planned to give you and Remus rooms and let you
run the castle for a few days, give you time to adjust to being in a new
country, but things have already changed.”
Draco straightened, attention focused sharply. “Why?”
Dumbledore sighed and put his cup down on the coffee table. “How much has Remus
explained?”
“A little,” Draco answered casually, immediately deciding to downplay his
knowledge. Maybe Dumbledore would give him new information if he was forced to
explain things.
“About Harry?” Dumbledore pressed.
“We know he's called the Boy-Who-Lived here.” Draco took Harry's hand as –
anxiety unease– slithered through him. Harry still watched Dumbledore with his
chin up, but he was beginning to lean toward Draco's side.
Dumbledore observed them for a moment before speaking quietly. “And about the
war? About the two sides?”
“We know there might be people still after Harry because Voldemort lost.”
Leaning back against the sofa, Dumbledore began to stroke his beard
thoughtfully. “Yes. Death Eaters. Those who work Dark magic and wish to take
the Wizarding world in a different direction. They believe there are some
wizards and witches better than others, and that they should have power over
these lesser people. They are a very ruthless and dangerous group.”
Harry now had his head on Draco's shoulder and was sitting pressed against his
side with not an inch of space between them. This was a little new for him.
Draco had been careful with what he let Harry know about the war, and he
narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore warningly, although he felt pretty safe that
the old man wasn't going to tell them that the war wasn't really over, that
Voldemort wouldn't stay gone. The last thing Dumbledore would want to do is
scare them back to America. Frightening them wouldn't gain him anything.
So knowing this, Draco was curious with what Dumbledore was driving at. It must
be big because he was definitely being more heavy-handed about the threat than
Draco had expected he would be. Maybe he wanted them a little on edge and
clinging to his robes for protection?
To stop that idea in its tracks, Draco rolled his eyes in disdain and flapped
his hand carelessly. “But they were defeated, so we don't have to worry about
that. There's still some Death Eaters left, so we have to be careful, but the
world's safe, right?”
“Mostly,” Dumbledore agreed, tone and expression becoming grave. “But good
people should always be watchful, young Draco. I don't mean to frighten you,
but I must bring this to your attention, I'm afraid. There were certain
families suspected of helping the Dark and believing in the Dark's values. One
of these goes by the name of Malfoy. Have you heard of them?”
Draco shook his head. Of course he was lying. One of the first things Remus
taught him were the names of the Dark families, but he was very confused by all
this talk of the Dark. He was also thrown by the fact that Dumbledore was
mostly talking to him and not Harry. He'd suspected, and Remus had agreed, that
Draco would be a distant second thought, everyone focused on Harry once they
arrived. He'd been set to make an impression, but the old wizard wasn't meeting
any of his expectations and that put Draco at a disadvantage.
“The Malfoy family has a long history. They are very wealthy and hold a
position of power in society. I'm sorry to say that the current Lord Malfoy
worked directly with the Dark Lord, but due to his influence with those in
power, he escaped charges when Voldemort fell.”
“Okay...” Draco drew the word out, making his confusion clear. “What about
'em?”
Dumbledore stared at him intently. “Lord Malfoy lost a son, you see. Right
before the Dark Lord's fall. He's been looking for him ever since. Raises the
reward for his son's return every year. It now equals enough to let someone
live a very wealthy lifestyle for the rest of their life and never work a day
again.”
Draco's eyes narrowed. Dumbledore had kept him guessing from the moment they'd
met. It was about time to return the favor and show he wasn't some stupid kid.
“You either think I'm this missing kid, or you want me ta pretend to be 'em.
Which – with magic an' all – seems stupidly dangerous. So you do think I'm this
kid. And that means you think... What? I'm gonna go Dark and hurt Harry or
something?”
Harry's confusion cleared in flash and he sat up with a smile. “Draco wouldn't
ever hurt me.”
Dumbledore bowed his head. “I believe that.” When his face lifted again, it was
filled with worry. “I am not so confident about the Malfoy family, however.”
Draco glared hotly at the thought of anyone hurting Harry. He wanted to say
he'd stay away from these people, but he knew better. He was seven. That meant
he had virtually no rights in society's eyes. At least not until he hit the age
society believed made him a human being capable of making decisions. Until
then, if Draco really was this guy's kid – and how the hell had that happened?!
- the Malfoys would own Draco and through him Harry. The truth was they’d
escaped slavery only to still be a type of slave in the eyes of the world as
long as they were still under that age.
“Should we go back to America?” he asked levelly.
“No.” Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “Your identity was hidden by a very
powerful spell called the Fidelius Charm, and unfortunately that spell is
broken. It broke the moment you arrived, allowing me to recognize you. A secret
once held by the Fidelius and then revealed cannot be hidden that way again.
The reward for your return is very substantial, and the Malfoy's have hired
very capable people to find you. Without the spell shielding you, that will
happen sooner rather than later, even in America. I'm afraid to delay will only
make things more complicated.”
“How certain are ya that the Malfoy's were with the Dark Lord?” Draco asked,
eyes unblinking as his mind raced.
Dumbledore's eyebrow lifted in surprise at Draco's intelligent and direct
questions. “Absolutely certain. However, it is my understanding that when you
were taken, Lucius no longer actively participated in the war.”
Draco frowned. “They placed their child as more important than the war?”
“Yes, but it would be a mistake to think that would render you and Harry safe.”
Dumbledore sighed and began stroking his beard again.
“You want to split us up,” Draco said softly, expression gone flat.
Harry gasped beside him– fear denial – spiking hard. He clutched at Draco's
hand, but he said nothing.
Draco couldn't imagine leaving Harry's side, but he forced himself to consider
it. From what he understood, at eleven, all children were made to come to this
school. That was four years from now. Four. Years.
No way. That wasn't going to work. He knew it deep in his bones that he
couldn't leave Harry ungrounded that long. Harry needed him in a visceral way
to give him a frame of reference. Flashes of Harry's melt down in the woods and
the mini-meltdown after the Scourers had tortured them... of Harry's daily
request for rules, praise, and punishment... Harry could maybe go a week
without Draco, but no way would he survive four years without unraveling.
Dumbledore broke the tense silence. “It would be ideal, but I understand that
your bond is such that you cannot be separated without ill effects.”
The old man tried to give Harry a reassuring smile, but Harry was blind to it.
He was staring at the side of Draco's face, eyes wide with - fear horror.
Trust me,Draco scolded. It made Harry gasp again and duck his head, a swirl of
– shame trust –flaring sickeningly through the bond.
Draco turned so his back was to the arm of the sofa and pulled Harry into his
lap. The boy rested his back against Draco's chest and turned his head so his
face pressed against Draco's neck, his glasses digging in uncomfortably, which
Draco ignored. Casually, he grabbed Harry's wrists, holding them together in
Harry's lap. He held tightly enough that Harry's hands began to go slightly
numb.
Harry relaxed back into Draco as the sensation of being held - Draco's arms
boxing him in, his wrists secured - let him sink into that serene place where
he felt empty and at peace.
Draco's voice rumbled against his forehead and back. “So are ya thinkin' ta
call them here and negotiate, like, shared custody or somethin'?”
Dumbledore's eyes lit up and he gave Draco a genuine smile. “You are every bit
as clever as Remus reported you to be, young Draco. Yes. That is exactly what I
plan to do.”
Draco sighed, more to relieve tension than anything else. At least Harry was
calm in his arms. He blew his breath out once more, his long bangs swaying, and
eyed the old man. Dumbledore hadn't blinked at Harry moving into his lap or at
the way Draco held him. Point in the old man's favor. He also seemed to
genuinely want to help protect their bond. Another point. Lastly, he wasn't
talking down to Draco and seemed to take him seriously. Okay. Maybe Remus was
right and they could trust the man. Maybe.
Grmly determined, Draco said, “So we gotta have someone for them to share
custody with.” They didn't have time to be picky. Harry needed a guardian as
soon as possible.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brighter. “Just so.”
“First choice is Remus,” Draco said instantly. Harry shifted in his arms so
that he was looking out at Dumbledore and no longer hiding his face. Draco took
that to mean he could let go of the boy's wrists and did so slowly. Instead, he
let one arm curl around Harry's stomach, holding him in place, the other hand
he lifted to sink into Harry's hair, petting him. “The Ministry doesn't know
he's a werewolf, so...”
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “I agree Remus is a good choice, but he will
have to go through screenings before he can gain custody of Harry. His
condition would be revealed, and the law forbids a werewolf from adopting or
reproducing after contracting the disease.”
“Scumbags,” Draco cursed lightly. “And you? Is it legal for you?”
Dumbledore gave a wide smile. “I am flattered. However, I am older than the
Ministry would prefer. They would also assume I wanted Harry for political
reasons, and so would resist.”
Draco scowled, growing annoyed at the old man's dramatics. “So who do'ya have
in mind then?”
Faded blue eyes twinkling, Dumbledore laid out their options. “Harry's parents
named a godfather and a godmother in their will. Sadly, both were incapable of
taking up their duty as Harry's guardians at the Potters' deaths, so Harry was
sent to live with the closest blood relatives. Obviously, they are not a
consideration now, and the Malfoys would not allow partial custody to Muggles
in any case.
“According to the law, we must look at the next of kin along the godparents'
lines. The next legal candidates would be Harry's godfather's eldest first
cousin, Andromeda Tonks, and Harry's godmother's husband's mother, Lady Augusta
Longbottom. I contacted both earlier in the season intending for you to have
interviews during the summer with the two families in order to choose the best
fit. As we do not have the time for that, we must choose now based purely on
what we know about them.
“There are benefits and risks with either family. The Longbottoms are Pureblood
and have some political influence that could potentially balance out the
Malfoys. The Malfoys, I am certain, would prefer this choice. However, Lady
Longbottom is elderly, and she already has custody of a boy your age. She is
also very conservative. I do not know how well she'll understand your bond.
Both her son and her daughter-in-law, who is Harry's godmother, suffered
horrible wounds during the First War that incapacitated them. This has made her
greatly dislike war in general, but the Dark in particular.”
“I personally favor Andromeda. She is Lady Malfoy's elder sister. They have not
spoken in decades due to Andromeda marrying a Muggleborn wizard, much to her
family's shame, but she is still technically family to you, and this would make
her guardianship of Harry even more secure. She is also younger than Lady
Longbottom at thirty-four years of age. The risk of choosing Mrs. Tonks is that
she is eccentric. Madness runs in her birth family and she is temperamental.
She has never forgiven her family for disowning her, so it is likely there will
be a lot of turmoil and conflict between Lady Malfoy and herself. She has a
daughter, but Nymphadora has just finished her third year here at Hogwarts and
is away ten months of the year. Two young boys should not be a problem.”
“What House was the daughter sorted into?” Draco asked curiously.
“Nymphadora is a Hufflepuff,” Dumbledore answered with a gentle smile. “So we
can assume Mrs. Tonks is not raising her child in the manner in which she and
Lady Malfoy were raised. Both of these ladies were sorted Slytherin, as nearly
all of their family was.”
Draco continued to pet Harry. He stared across the room, eyes moving over the
stuffed bookcases and the closed door, taking in again that he was in an actual
castle. Harry was content and trusting in his arms. Honestly, Draco wasn't too
concerned yet. He felt confident he could manipulate any situation. No matter
what, he would not tolerate someone hurting Harry. If he had to murder the
Malfoys to keep Harry safe, he would. Simple as that.
So the choice was to either follow Dumbledore's lead and choose Mrs. Tonks –
Dumbledore clearly wanted the boys to go in that direction – or be rebellious
and choose Lady Longbottom. He knew Remus would want him to heed Dumbledore's
advice. That didn't matter, either, really. Remus would follow no matter what
Draco decided. It boiled down to the pros and cons of letting Dumbledore take
the lead.
Breathing in slowly, he then let his breath spill from his lips in a controlled
exhale... Longbottom or Tonks... He had only minutes to decide.
Chapter end.
A/N:Please let me know which path seems the most interesting to you! Thanks in
advance!
 
***** The Malfoys *****
                                  The_Malfoys
Draco scowled the whole way to Dumbledore's office. He was deeply annoyed by
the fact that Dumbledore had already summoned Mrs. Tonks long before he'd come
to talk to Draco and Harry, and that Remus had been up there with her while
Dumbledore talked to them, filling her in on the key events that had happened.
Draco had known that Mrs. Tonks was the choice that Dumbledore wanted them to
make, but Draco hadn't known Dumbledore had already made it!
Minus ten points to Dumbledore. That put him at negative seven by Draco's
count. He really didn't appreciate the show of asking his opinion when the
issue had already been decided. If the old wizard truly respected him as he had
pretended during their meeting, he would have let Draco make the decision in
truth not just in name. Draco had been neatly manipulated and he would not
forget it.
* I'm in a bad mood, so I need you to be extra sweet to this lady, okay? *Draco
said into Harry's mind. He glanced over his shoulder to see green eyes focused
on him. * We need her on our side, especially if the Malfoys turn out bad and I
have to take care of it. *
“Yes, Draco,” Harry whispered and squeezed Draco's hand – resolve trust.
* Thank you, *he whispered with genuine gratitude. * Love you. *
- happy love -
                                       …
Harry's heart began to beat hard with adrenaline. Draco was depending on him,
and as much as that thrilled him, it also made him terribly nervous, so he was
breathing a little harder than normal when they stepped off the moving
staircase. Dumbledore was waiting on the landing, holding open an arched wooden
door.
Eyes cold and face carefully blank, Draco led them into the large office
beyond. It was round with multiple levels. The walls were covered in things,
moving-chirping-ticking things. Two huge windows let in natural light, rugs
overlapped along the floor, and there were massive pieces of furniture: a desk,
padded chairs, scattered tables, a bird perch. Brilliant red feathers that
trailed to the floor, the bird that sat on the perch was as big as a fat cat
with large black eyes and a wickedly curved beak. It gave a little trill as it
tilted its head, and Harry felt a shiver of delight move through him at the
musical sound.
Draco gave a little tug on his hand. Harry blushed hotly, only now realizing
that Remus and a woman were watching them from a few feet away. They had risen
from two huge armchairs that had been turned to face each other, he guessed for
their talk. Harry wondered what exactly Remus had told her, but didn't dwell on
it. Draco would find out. He always made things right. Instead, Harry focused
on turning his biggest smile on the woman.
She stood with a hand covering her mouth and tears in her eyes as she looked
back and forth between Draco and Harry. The attention made his skin crawl, but
Draco had told him what to do, so he lifted his hand in a wave and gave what he
hoped was a happy, “Hello.”
“Hello, Harry,” she answered, voice thick with emotion. Her hand dropped to
show she was smiling. “Hello, Draco. My name is Andromeda Tonks. I'd be pleased
if you'd called me Auntie Andie.”
Harry thought she had a nice smile; her lips were thin and painted red. She was
tall, as tall as Remus, and her eyes were dark brown with long, dark lashes.
Her thick, shiny brown hair was woven into an intricate pattern at the back of
her head. She wore a dark red dress that was tight on top with long sleeves,
but flared out slightly at her hips to fall straight to the floor. She was on
the thin side, but with bigger breasts than Jess or Drey.
“O-okay,” Harry finally answered, stuttering slightly. He was careful to keep
smiling even as his heart continued to hammer. “Um. Thank you. For...” He had
no idea how to say it.
“Letting us stay with you,” Draco finished for him, helping him out.
Harry felt a mix of relief and shame that he already needed help. Laila and
Draco had worked so hard to get him ready for coming here, but he was messing
up again and again. Lower lip trembling, his smile beginning to waver, he tried
to keep it together.
“I am very happy to have you join my family. Both of you,” Andie was saying.
* Deep breath. Don't think about anything but your task. I'll take care of you,
* Draco whispered in his mind.
Harry looked up as Dumbledore shut the door behind them and moved across to the
biggest fireplace Harry had ever seen.
The old wizard gave Remus a hard look before telling the room, “I believe our
final guests are here. Please give me a moment while I welcome them.”
Harry was immediately pulled forward by Draco to join Remus and Andie by the
massive desk. Harry was glad to put some distance between them and the people
who were Draco's parents. He was insanely curious about meeting them and
simultaneously terrified. It was enough to make him feel woozy.
Through wide, curious eyes, Harry watched as two people stepped free of a
sudden whoosh of green fire. The man was tall, only slightly shorter than
Dumbledore, and wore an old-fashioned grey suit. He had long platinum blond
hair that fell past his shoulders and angular, hawklike features. His silver
eyes were just like Draco's when he was focused really hard on something. In
his hand was a long cane that had a silver snake head. When the man's eyes
found Draco, they burned so brightly that Harry would have melted under the
look, but Draco looked as cool as ever.
The woman was also staring at Draco. Her expression was blank the way Draco's
got sometimes when he was hiding something. She wore a fancier dress than
Andie, but it looked very similar. It was dark blue, a shade or two darker than
her eyes. It had white lace at the throat and wrists with a silver wavy pattern
sewn along the bottom and her waist. Her hair was a yellow blonde compared to
Draco's and the man's white-blond, and it was wrapped up in a braided knot. She
was a little shorter and a lot thinner than Andie – In fact, Harry thought she
looked kind of sick - but he could tell they were sisters even though Andie had
darker hair and eyes.
“Draco...” The woman held out her hands, her eyes shinning with obvious need.
Draco cast Dumbledore a questioning look and the old wizard gave them a smile.
“It is safe. No one will leave this office until we have things straightened
out.”
* Stay with Remus, *Draco ordered as he walked across the room to the two new
people.
Harry watched wide-eyed as the man gave Dumbledore a cold look before giving
his whole attention to Draco. The woman clasped Draco's hands in her own. She
was trembling a little, Harry could tell. The man reached out to gently touch
Draco's shoulder.
For a long second, the man stood with his eyes closed. He didn't move his hand
when he finally turned to Dumbledore, and Harry didn't think the man ever
planned on letting go. Worry squirmed through Harry's belly, but Draco looked
at him from across the room, gaze steady, and Harry calmed, trusting the
promise in Draco's eyes.
“I'd like an explanation. Now please.” The man's voice was soft but cold as
ice.
Clapping his hands softly together, Dumbledore gave a smile. “Come, Lucius,
Narcissa. Sit. I insist. It is a difficult and incredible tale to tell.”
Harry blinked. Within minutes, more big chairs appeared and were arranged in
front of the large desk in a half circle. Andie sat at one end, then Harry,
then Remus, then Lucius, then Draco, then the woman. Harry noticed that even
though the man and woman were keeping their faces serious, Lucius still had his
hand on Draco's shoulder and Narcissa was clutching one of Draco's hands in
both of hers.
* You're doing so good, Harry, but if I tell you to, I want you to go look
around, okay? *Draco sounded so calm that Harry felt his heart begin to slow
from its rapid hammering. So much was happening; it almost felt like a dream by
this point.
He opened his mouth to tell Draco yes, but he caught himself in time. Draco
didn't want him to answer out loud in front of people when he spoke in Harry's
mind. He thought it would be a good secret to have, just the two of them, so
Harry closed his mouth and gave a small nod instead.
* Good boy. *
The praise made his stomach flutter as it always did and he ducked his head,
blushing.
                                       …
Lucius felt hot and cold by turns and knew Narcissa wasn't doing much better.
Draco – his son – He'd finally returned to them. By Dumbledore. Suspicion sharp
as knives cut through him. His old, crafty enemy... Lucius's fury settled into
a stillness that sharpened his thoughts into crystal blades. He'd destroy
Dumbledore if he'd had even the smallest part to play in his son's abduction.
Helplessly, he stroked his son's shoulder, still hardly able to grasp that
Draco was here. It filled him with a joy so bright it nearly doubled him over.
Even with his enemy seated in front of him, Lucius couldn't help stealing
glances at his son.
He was beautiful: Lucius's pale hair and grey/silver eyes, but his features
softened just that little bit by Narcissa's beauty. Draco's hair fell just
below his jawline and was hooked behind his ears. He looked older than his age,
Draco's expression already folded into a blank mask. It tormented Lucius that
he had no idea what his son was thinking, that Draco was utterly strange to
him, even as he felt a fierce pride in his son's obvious mental strength.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, drawing Lucius's attention back to the room.
There was Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa's banished sister, a man who looked
familiar but he did not know by name, and a second dark-haired child. Lucius
shook himself mentally. Clearly the crafty old fool was plotting something.
Lucius wasn't about to let the wizard get his hooks in them or his son. He had
to be sharp.
Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk and smiled at the assembled half-circle
of people in front of him. “Let me begin at the beginning. I beg your patience
during this tale. I assure you I will eventually answer any question you may
have.” This last was said in Lucius's direction.
Lucius's rage flared. In other words, shut up until I finish.He glanced at
Narcissa, but her eyes were on their son. He steeled himself further. She had
tried the blood spell again on Draco's birthday three weeks ago. She had only
recently come off bedrest and her magic was barely a whisper right now. If it
came down to a fight, Lucius would be their only line of defense. His hand
tightened briefly on his son's thin shoulder.
“My story begins a year ago,” Dumbledore began. He looked liked he was enjoying
this immensely. Lucius set his teeth and forced himself to endure the barmy old
man's drama. He would have answers before he took his son and his wife back to
the safety of the manor. “It came to my attention that the safe-house in which
Harry Potter resided no longer housed the Boy-Who-Lived. Little Harry had
already been missing a year before we discovered he was gone.”
Narcissa made a soft sound, sensitive to any child being lost. Lucius
immediately looked at the other child sitting with them. Was that Harry Potter?
Oblivious to the sudden tension, Dumbledore went on with his story. “After
months of searching, we discovered Harry's trail led to America. Mr. Lupin,” he
inclined his head toward the other man, “was selected to discreetly travel
overseas to continue the search. On Halloween, he managed to make contact with
Harry only to discover the boy now lived with another child and a young man.
However, powerful magic shielded his attempt to locate Harry and so he was
forced to ask the boy to meet him. At the zoo, I believe?”
Voice quiet, Lupin answered. “Yes, Headmaster.”
Dumbledore straightened in his seat, smiling. “So Remus requested that Harry
come meet him at the zoo.”
“Actually...” Draco interrupted, speaking for the first time in their presence.
“He asked Harry to tell 'em where he was. I decided it wasn't a good idea ta
tell some guy who's voice came outta nowhere where we were, so I told Remus ta
meet me at the zoo in a week.”
Lucius was utterly surprised to hear such composed speech from the boy. Despite
his high, childish voice, Draco spoke clearly and evenly, if with an American
accent. It fascinated him, and he immediately wanted to hear more.
“I'm sorry, my boy. Thank you for clearing that up.” Dumbledore dropped his son
a discrete wink as if it were all a part of his plan for Draco to correct him.
Lucius narrowed his eyes, suspicious that he was being played. Whatever
Dumbledore had planned, Lucius would not allow it to continue. Draco was his!
“So a week went by, but it was Draco who met Remus at the zoo.”
“You've known Draco's location since last November,” Narcissa stated with cold
precision. Nearly everyone in the room cringed, all except Dumbledore, Lucius,
and Draco.
“Not quite, my dear. Let me continue. All will be clear in the end.” Dumbledore
gestured to their son. “Draco asked some questions and told Remus to give him
another week to think about everything. Of course, Remus had warded the
building allowing magical persons in but not out. Somehow Draco was able to
break that ward and escape.”
Again Lucius was impressed. Draco was powerful as well as well-spoken and self-
contained.
“Another week passed and Draco brought Harry to Remus, agreeing to leave his
home and come to the magical world.” Dumbledore looked to Lupin, asking gently.
“Would you like to tell what happened next?”
Lucius watched as Lupin kept his eyes on Dumbledore. When he spoke, his voice
was flat, brittle. “We were captured by American Scourers and underwent
exorcisms for over twenty-four hours before being rescued by Aurors. We were
then taken to the American magical hospital for treatment. Due to our injuries,
it was agreed we'd stay in America to recover.”
Immediately Lucius looked his son over for injuries. He saw none, and Draco's
calm silver eyes stared back at him unimpressed. The hot and cold feeling
returned.
“I would like copies of Draco's medical records, please,” Narcissa spoke up.
“Of course, of course,” Dumbledore agreed easily. Too easily. “The American
government very kindly rented a cottage at a very secure, Wizarding village so
that Remus and the boys could convalesce. However, it was only a few days into
their stay when the boys were spirited away within a faerie circle.”
“Surely you jest,” Lucius demanded. His son had been living with Harry – Boy-
Who-Lived– Potter, was tortured by Muggle filth, rescued, and was then abducted
to the land of Faerie? It was worse than a drama!
Dumbledore actually had the gall to chuckle, and Lucius bared his teeth in a
dangerous smile. Nothing was funny here. “Trust me,” the old fool said
brightly. “I was just as flabbergasted. I believe these boys will be a trial to
watch over.”
“How long were they gone?” Andromeda asked curiously. She looked unruffled by
the strange, unbelievable story, and Lucius became suspicious all over again.
How long had she been here before Narcissa and he had arrived? Just how much of
this was staged? How much was truth?
“Four months,” Lupin answered her. He looked a little pale. His reactions were
in line with someone who had suffered recent trauma, and he was too stiff to be
very practiced in telling this tale. “We were gone the entire winter.”
“We?” Lucius lifted a brow.
Dumbledore smiled at them, hand beginning to stroke his beard. “Remus very
bravely walked into the circle in an attempt to bring the boys back. In any
case, he was successful and they were freed at the end of March. We felt it
best, considering Harry's situation and after such trying experiences, that his
return to us be postponed until school let out for the summer. I had hoped I
could give him a few quiet weeks at Hogwarts to adjust before his public
return. He and young Draco arrived this morning.”
Lucius's heartbeat pounded in his ears, a constant boom as he forced down his
rage. “I do not understand why you left it this long to contact us,” he said in
a very dangerous voice, never once looking away from Dumbledore.
Dumbledore bowed his head, but there was not an ounce of humility in the
gesture. “When the boys arrived, it was as if a veil had been lifted. Very
powerful magic had concealed Draco's identity until that very moment. You see,
we did not know he was Draco Malfoy until this morning.”
Through gritted teeth, Lucius demanded coldly of everyone sitting in that room.
“You cannot expect me to believe that you did not recognize my son all these
months of knowing him. That this isn't some scheme designed to some end of
yours, Dumbledore.”
“Hear me, Lucius Malfoy.” Faded blue eyes bore into him. The facade of an jolly
old man slouched off to reveal the diamond hard intelligence that it usually
hid. At least he was no longer laughing. “I swear on my magic that all I've
revealed to you is true. I am even willing to take Veritaserum if you should
desire it.”
“What spell is that powerful?” Naricssa demanded. Lucius was glad she asked
because he was too furious to speak. He had no doubt Dumbledore had ways around
Truth Potion. Lucius would not be swayed by the old fool's platitudes and
dramatic proclamations.
“It is my opinion that whoever stole Draco cast the Fidelius Charm.”
Lucius sucked in a breath. That was... actually possible.
“As you know, only the Secret Keeper can reveal the secret. However, it can be
discovered by others in very rare instances. I believe that is why Draco was
taken to America in the first place. It was part of the condition of the
Fidelius. It wasn't until he returned to his home country that any of us
understood who he truly was.”
“The Fidelius...” Narcissa whispered. Tears glittered in her eyes. “Do you have
any suspects?”
“Not at this moment,” Dumbledore said sadly, shaking his head. “It is a very
old and obscure spell. There is no knowing who has the knowledge to cast it
successfully.”
There wasn't anything in Dumbledore's expression or voice that seemed off, but
Lucius was suddenly dead certain that he was lying on that score. Lucius's free
hand tightened around his cane.
“This tale is not finished, however.” The cheerful old wizard persona had
returned. “You see, the reason we were able to bring Draco here, since at the
time we thought him an American Muggleborn, was due to the bond that has
developed between your son and young Harry. It was discovered in the hospital
after their rescue from Scourers.”
No.Lucius felt everything go still. Absolutely not.
“It is a rare three-fold, twin bond,” Lupin spoke up, looking at Lucius for the
first time since the meeting had begun. Lucius saw amber eyes and scars across
his nose and puckering his cheeks. His expression practically screamed
sincerity. “The Asclepius and a well-respected Mind-healer agreed that trying
to break the bond would cause significant, permanent damage to both Draco and
Harry. It might even kill them and would definitely render them mad.”
“I've had Madam Pomfrey, an expert Child-healer, cast diagnostic spells to
examine the bond herself, and I took the liberty to look with my own second
sight, as meager as it is. We both agree with the diagnosis that the bond is
too deep and pervasive to sever at this point.” Dumbledore stared at Lucius.
“It is not what I would prefer, as I'm sure you understand. However, the bond
is unbreakable. Draco and Harry are considered twins by magic.” The old man
sighed, as if exhausted. “To this end, I summoned Harry's magical guardian as
well as yourselves. I'd like to help both you and Harry's guardian come to some
sort of understanding regarding custody and residency.”
Lucius stood and pulled Draco up with him by the grip he had on the child's
shoulder. Narcissa followed a second later. They would take their son and
leave. If anyone tried to stop them, he'd murder them. Under no circumstance
would he allow Dumbledore's machinations to connect his son's life to that of
Harry Bloody Potter.
A small but surprisingly strong hand knocked his own away, and with a graceful
twist, Draco stood facing them. With his head tilted back and his cupid-bow
lips pressed flat, he stared up at Lucius through intense silver eyes. “Look.
I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're feelin'. I get that you lost your kid
and want him back, but I'm not your kid. I lived a completely different life. I
have my own ideas that aren't yours. That's not my fault, and it's not your
fault from the sound of things, but that's the way it is. ”
Lucius heard a roaring in his ears. Draco pressed on, relentless, completely
uncaring about the turmoil he was causing. He'd gone from unexpressive to
crystal clear within a second. The set of his jaw, the clarity in his eyes,
made obvious the complete lack of attachment or even interest he felt in them.
“I don't want ya thinkin' that I've been brainwashed or somethin' by
Dumbledore. I'm not with him, either. I'm with Harry, and Harry's with me.
We're on no one's side but each other's. ”
Distantly, Lucius noted that Dumbledore was not pleased by the cruel truths
Draco was laying at their feet, either. The old man was frowning and his eyes
had grown worried, but Lucius didn't have time to savor that. The pressure in
the room had shifted. Power hummed along Lucius's senses as Draco's eyes grew
impossibly more focused and his voice grew colder than even Narcissa's cold
get. Lucius had a flash of intuition that his seven-year-old son was capable of
murder.
“So if you try and separate me from Harry,” the boy said slowly, emphasizing
every word. “I will fight you until my last breath. I hope you're both smart
enough not to start things with me like that.”
                                       …
Narcissa had been watching the people assembled in the room while her husband
dealt with Dumbledore. She'd also been watching her son, unable to look away
for more than a moment. Those silver eyes frequently rested on the other
child... on Harry... but Draco also followed the conversation happening above
his head. Harry, on the other hand, very rarely took his eyes off Draco. He was
content to let things play out around him and follow Draco's lead. That soothed
a lot of her fears.
Even now, Harry was calm. He didn't seem distressed in any way at this talk of
possible separation, and that was clearly due to the absolute trust shining in
those green eyes. Harry had no doubt in Draco's ability to keep them together.
Such trust was built on evidence. His son had proven to the other boy beyond
possible doubt that he'd stay by Harry's side. It absolutely convinced Narcissa
that Draco would not be mollified. Draco would keep them together no matter
what it took, including severing his ties to his family permanently. She wasn't
about to lose her son a second time. Never again!
Reaching over, Narcissa placed her hand on Lucius's arm. It was rock hard with
tension, practically vibrating under her fingers. After a long moment, he
stilled under her touch. Narcissa met her son's dangerous glare and bowed her
head in agreement.
Lifting her head again, she entered the verbal fray between her husband and
Dumbledore. “I assume Andromeda is here because she is Harry's magical
guardian?”
“She is,” Dumbledore answered her. “His legal godfather's eldest blood
relative.”
She looked directly at her sister for the first time since they'd entered the
Headmaster's office. Andromeda looked so much older than when Narcissa had last
seen her. Twenty years would changed anyone, but it hadn't changed the
betrayal. Rage rose to almost choke her.
Andromeda had been the eldest. She'd been groomed to rule a Pureblooded
household, to maneuver a powerful husband, and to raise powerful children in
the Old Ways. Pureblooded wives were Destiny in the making. They were the
backbone of the Family, the hand behind History. And Andromeda had spat on all
of that. She had removed herself from the continuation of their Line just so
she could mate with a filthy Mudblood. Worse, all of her potential had been
destroyed. Andromeda had murdered her future self and all the future children
who would have come.
Narcissa would never forgive her. Andromeda had destroyed their mother and
driven her into madness because of her selfish, perverse desires, and then she
had left them to deal with the fallout. Unlike Narcissa who had her engagement
to Lucius to protect her, their little sister Bella had been at their mother's
mercy. She had been warped under their mother's vengeful hand. Narcissa had
nightmares about it to this day.
So looking at her sister now, sitting across from her, still without shame for
what she had done, and knowing she would have to share her son with her... It
was almost too much to bear. But instead of screaming or raving, Narcissa held
herself rigidly straight and asked with perfect politeness, “What custody
agreement did you have in mind?”
Andromeda met her gaze, her dark eyes giving a slow blink. Narcissa knew that
look. Andromeda had come to a decision and would not be moved. “I believe the
best option is to follow the example of Cygnus Black the First and Ella Black
née Max. We shall host the children in our homes every other month. During the
month the children are not in residence, we are afforded a one three day
visitation period.”
Narcissa hated with a passion the idea that Draco would be lost to her every
other month. She glanced once more into her son's implacable silver eyes. He
stared at her, waiting to see if he would need to fight. Narcissa lifted her
chin and gave her older sister a cold look. “Very well. I agree.”
Lucius turned toward her, fire in his eyes. She stared him down and fortunately
he did not interrupt. If anything tested her right now, she'd either explode or
faint.
Dumbledore produced parchment designed for magical contracts and two quills.
Narcissa primly strode over to the desk and bent over it to write out the
details of the custody agreement:
   i. The Malfoy family, consisting of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, does consent
      to equal guardianship with Andromeda Tonks over the two male children
      Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.
  ii. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter will reside in alternating months with the
      Malfoys and Andromeda Tonks. The guardian with whom Draco Malfoy and
      Harry Potter are not residing is due a three-day visitation period in
      which the children will leave their current residence and return to the
      alternate guardian's residence for the duration of the visitation period.
 iii. All major decisions pertaining to the health, safety, and future of Draco
      Malfoy and Harry Potter will be discussed by all guardians. Any major
      decisions made by a guardian acting without the consensus of the other
      guardians will result in the loss of one residency month and a visitation
      period.
  iv. In a state of emergency, the guardian who is present first will make all
      decisions independent of the other guardians without penalty until the
      emergency has concluded.
   v. Any suspicion of abuse – mental, emotional, physical, or magical – will
      grant the alternate guardian sole custody until the investigation is
      concluded. Should abuse be proven, the guilty party will be stripped of
      all guardianship rights over Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. If no abuse
      is proven at the conclusion of the investigation, the accusing guardian
      will forfeit one residency month and a visitation period.
Narcissa read over the contract she had written and gave a satisfied nod. She
focused what little magic she had left and signed the contract. She
straightened, hiding the dizzy spell and moment of blindness as best she could,
and offered the quill to her husband. When the spots cleared from her eyes, she
noticed his expression was chilly, but she ignored that. There really was no
other option, not if they wanted to keep any part of their son's heart.
“I wanna read it.”
Narcissa looked down to see Draco staring up at her. She gave him a gentle
smile. “Of course. My apologies.” She handed the contract to her young son.
She watched in interest as Harry shuffled over and the two boys read the
contract shoulder-to-shoulder, working through the large words and formal
wording. It was obvious after a moment's observation that Harry was the more
advanced reader, but Draco comprehended the information better.
She glanced at Dumbledore. He was talking in a low murmur to Lupin. She avoided
looking at Andromeda. Lucius stepped close to her side and firmly grasped her
upper arm. Magic surrounded her. Lucius's spell hovered over her skin and would
ensure no one would overhear them.
“What are you thinking?” He was so agitated that he nearly hissed the question,
even as his expression remained frozen. The others may not hear, but they could
see.
Looking into her husband's eyes, she saw the desperation and fear that his mask
hid, partially because she felt the same: fear that there was no winning their
son back, desperation over their son being tied to Harry Potter, their Lord's
old enemy. Letting her determination shine through her eyes, she placed her
hand atop his.
“We must win our son back, Lucius. We will win him back, and we will make the
bond to Potter an advantage for our family.”
Lucius stood straighter at her words. He held her eyes for a moment longer
before letting his spell collapse.
Narcissa checked on the room, but it was as before. Satisfied that nothing had
changed, she let her attention fall to her child. She could watch Draco for
hours and be happy. The boys were still murmuring over the contract, their
heads close together. Occasionally Draco would ask Lupin for clarification.
Clearly a rudimentary relationship had formed there. The man had endured
torture with the boys and had willingly given himself over to the inhuman and
capricious faeries in an attempt to get the children back. It was something to
keep in mind.
Chapter end.
A/N:Any guesses on who stole Draco and cast the Fidelius to hide him? :D
 
***** Homecoming *****
A/N: Thank you for all the very interesting ideas on who stole Draco! I am
delighted to say no one has guessed right. (:P) So I'm going to have fun
revealing the "who did it". (XD)
                                  Homecoming
Draco held Harry's hand firmly in his own as he stood with the Malfoys at
Dumbledore's fireplace. Mrs. Tonks had already left after accepting Narcissa's
polite invitation to lunch tomorrow to discuss things further. Remus stood off
to the side. He'd also gotten an invitation, but his was for the following
week, to discuss the reward for Draco's discovery. That left Dumbledore. The
old wizard stood, hands clasped in front of him, robed in purple with his long
white beard and hair, watching them solemnly. Draco watch him back.
“Stand close to me now,” Lucius told him, and Draco reluctantly moved in so
that he was just touching the man's hip with his shoulder. Harry was glued to
his side with Narcissa next to him on his other side. Lucius shared one last
guarded look with Dumbledore before throwing a handful of powder down, calling,
“Malfoy Manor.”
Flung through a tube, twisted and snaking, Draco found himself shoved out of a
fireplace. As he fell, he turned, yanking Harry toward him so that he landed on
his back with Harry sprawled across his stomach. Lucius and Narcissa staggered
but they managed to stay on their feet.
Lucius waved his wand and they were all instantly clean of soot while Narcissa
moved carefully to the nearest chair and sat, back straight and hands carefully
folded in her lap after adjusting her skirts. Draco sat up, righting Harry next
to him. The boy's glasses where hanging from a single ear and he carefully set
them back in place. He didn't bother getting off the floor. His stomach was
still turning. There was a good chance he was going to be sick.
“I'm sure you've had an exhausting day,” Lucius said quietly. He stood to the
side, weight braced on his cane, watching him. “When you've caught your breath,
I will see you to your bedrooms. Dinner will be served in three hours. A house
elf will fetch you when it is time.”
“Bedroom,” Draco corrected, expression blank as he stared up at the man who
thought himself Draco's father. “Harry's with me.”
Lucius frowned, his blond brows lowering over his grey eyes forebodingly, but
Narcissa spoke before he could.
“That's fine. I'm sure the room is large enough to accommodate you both.
However, if you'd like any changes made to the furnishings, please let me
know.” She smiled at him warmly and Draco couldn't help feeling a little
impressed. The woman was pale and sickly, clearly unable to stand, and yet she
easily took charge of the room. “I look forward to seeing you both for dinner,
Draco, Harry.”
Draco gave her a polite smile. She was an ally, at least for now.
Nudging Harry, the boy stood and then helped Draco to his feet. Taking Harry's
hand again, he turned and looked up at Lucius expectantly. The man's face was
blank once more. Clearly he would have words to say to his wife as soon as they
were alone, but Draco was certain Narcissa would have her way.
Without further conversation, Lucius led them from the room. It had been
exceptionally clean with pale textured wallpaper, pale wood floors and a few
spindly-legged chairs with pale lavender cushions. On the wall across from the
massive fireplace, a framed painting of a tall, blond man in midnight blue
robes sat in a blooming garden. He had stared at Draco with an expression of
surprise the whole time.
As simple as the room was, it had screamed money, so Draco wasn't shocked when
they were led through long hallways with a carpet runner over white stone
floors, the walls decorated with huge silver and gold framed paintings, with
the occasional marble statues of people or magical animals. Enormous windows
looked out on rolling hills, a small lake, and flower gardens in full bloom. He
even caught sight of a white bird with an enormous tail walking around outside.
Off in the distance he could see black and white horses running free.
Draco tried to take everything in, but there was so much to see it was
impossible. One hallway, a huge marble staircase, and another hallway later,
Lucius stopped in front of a wooden door with magical animals carved in
beautiful detail. The doorknob was large, round, and bright gold. It would take
both hands for Draco to turn it, and he noticed that there was no keyhole. That
meant the Malfoys did their locking with magic. Draco felt completely
unconcerned by that. His poison could eat through magic, after all.
With a half-bow, Lucius opened the door, saying, “If you need anything, I will
be assigning Dobby to your care. Just call his name with intent and he will
come.”
Draco stepped past the man, towing Harry with him.
The medium sized sitting room was decorated in blues, greens, purples, and
silver. The walls were grey with a shiny silver pattern delicately embedded
throughout. A huge window stood directly across the entrance, and two more
doors led right and left along the windowed wall. A large bookcase carved
similarly to the main door stood against one wall with a low-sitting, deep
green couch under the window.
Along the other wall was a large, matching wooden desk that sat low to the
ground at a child's height with feathered quills and parchment. The desk chair
was covered in deep blue leather. A wooden chess set and stand crafted from a
single piece of wood sat in another corner. The chairs there were like the ones
in the fireplace room with thin, spindly legs and padded seats a dark blue to
match the desk chair.
A thick rug covered the floor in a geometric design done in blue, purple,
green, and silver. A wooden display table stood near the window and had a
green, leafy plant in a porcelain pot that filled the room with an earthy
smell. Large purple flowers on thick stalks had been placed in a vase on the
back corner of the desk and added a faint sweet scent to the mix.
Harry took one look around the room and felt his head swim. He locked his eyes
on Draco's back and forced down a stream of apology. Shouldn't be here! Filthy
disgusting freak! Dirty!He could almost feel black slime dripping off his body
to contaminate the perfection of the manor. Frozen, terrified, Harry clawed
onto the last of his reason, knowing Draco had given him a task. He was a
fucking failure already and he needed to obey Draco.
“There are rooms within the manor that have not been made safe for children.
Please remain here until dinner. I will give you a tour of the house and some
basic house rules after the meal if you feel up to it,” Lucius told them, voice
and expression stern.
“Yeah okay,” Draco agreed. He crossed his arms impatiently; the bond had been
buzzing for a while but was now reaching painful levels.
Lucius tipped his head forward and left, shutting the door behind him.
- terror panic self-disgust– The bond screamed with Harry's distress.
Draco pulled him toward the couch. Harry gave a horrified gasp as he was
pressed down to sit – He was going to ruin the beautiful thing! He clawed at
Draco's arms, blind and panicked.
Draco knelt on the floor between the boy's legs, letting Harry hold on to him.
“Talk to me.”
Harry shook his head, eyes wide and breath coming fast. He was past the point
where he could talk.
Draco knew it was the luxurious setting that had tipped Harry over the edge.
Harry didn't feel worthy of normal things let alone all this. And this was on
top of the stress of meeting Dumbledore and finding out Draco had parents.
Harry was desperately flailing as his mental reality began to crumble around
the edges.
With very deliberate and slow motions, Draco began to unbutton Harry's shirt
from the bottom. Holding Harry's wild green eyes, he worked his way up. The
shirt parted, revealing Harry's skinny belly and chest. With a fierce grin,
Draco pressed his nails firmly into Harry's skin up by his shoulders hard
enough to sting but not hard enough to draw blood. He brought them slowly down,
his nails catching on Harry's nipples on the way. The boy's stomach jumped in
reaction to the sting, and Harry held his breath. The bond sang with – fear
self-disgust desperation.
“No matter where we are. No matter who we're with. You're mine, Harry. That's
never gonna change, right?”
“Yours,” Harry whispered, eyes wide and unblinking as he stared down at Draco.
Draco smiled. “No matter where I am, you'll be with me. Because you're mine and
that's where I want you.” He leaned forward and opened his mouth. Harry's
breath caught. * Quiet. Take it all in. Remember where you belong. *
He closed his lips on Harry's side near his hip-bone, licking at first and then
sucking. When Harry began trembling, he bit down hard enough to draw blood.
Harry arched underneath him. He didn't make a sound at the sharp, tearing pain,
and once Draco's teeth released him, he went limp, sucking in a huge breath.
Draco stared up at him. Gently stroking Harry's thighs through his jeans, he
possessively traced Harry's features, the boy sitting with his head flung back
along the back of the couch. He was slouched down, his shirt parted to reveal
creamy skin and the thin trails Draco's nails had left as well as the
sluggishly bleeding bite just above one hip.
Leaning forward again, he licked along the boy's stomach until he latched onto
the spot that mirrored his first bite. Harry's mouth parted for a moment on a
silent moan before closing tight. His eyes never once opened, and he remained
limp and needy – displaying an absolute trust that made Draco's heart sing.
Draco bit him again, once more drawing blood. Harry went tense as the pain
spiked through him and then fell limp once more. The bond was quieter now,
filled with – worry shame love need. The release of some of the tension and
fear made a sob catch in Harry's throat.
“Let it out, Harry,” he ordered gently. Reaching up, he tugged Harry's glasses
off his face, staring into those jewel-bright eyes as tears glistened on long
lashes and spilled over reddened cheeks.
As the boy cried softly, Draco unbuttoned Harry's jeans and tugged them down.
Harry pressed up, letting them slip off his butt and bunch at his thighs. Draco
was still between his legs so he couldn't close them or slip the pants off
completely. Draco didn't need them off.
Limp and warm, tears salting his skin, Harry watched with his head slightly
tilted to the side as Draco grasped his hips, thumbs pressing firmly against
the fresh bite marks. Pain throbbed hotly as he was tugged to the edge of the
couch. His head slipped off the back and slid down as he was pulled those two
inches forward.
Draco began to smile the sweet smile he only ever gave Harry, and Harry melted
into Draco's touch, even as the blond's grip tightened painfully on his hips.
The pain grounded him, made him real, made Draco real. He stared into Draco's
silver eyes and everything else disappeared. Draco was all there was; his world
was right once more.
Draco's left hand slid down Harry's hip and up under his leg, leaving a warm,
wet trail of blood.With his forefinger, he gently pulled the boy's pale cheek
aside to reveal the tiny pink hole within. Harry remained pliant at his touch,–
anticipation want – a low thrum that made Draco shiver.
* Look at me, Harry. *
As soon as those green eyes were on his, he pressed his blood-coated thumb into
Harry's body.
Harry's mouth fell open on a long moan, his pupils grew, and his eyelids
fluttered, but he never broke eye contact.
Draco panted against Harry's thigh, his whole attention of the bond and the
silken feel of Harry's warm passage fluttering against his touch. He glanced up
to see Harry had flung his hands up over his head and hooked them around the
back of the couch. It reminded Draco of Brendon's basement, of the absolute
trust Harry had given him as he'd healed Harry's torn insides after being
raped. The thought made his heart race even faster and he pulled his thumb all
the way out only to press it back in.
“Who do you belong to?” he growled, voice hoarse.
“You... Draco...” Harry warbled softly. Blood stained the rim red - like
lipstick, and the hole slowly loosened, the resistance decreasing until Draco's
thumb moved in a smooth glide in and out.
Harry felt his whole body warm; the feel of Draco touching him there sent
sparks through his stomach again and again. Made him want to throw open his
legs; made him want to give Draco everything. Please yes yours! It felt so
good, pressure building in his gut, and his hips instinctively began to rock,
pressing down on Draco's hand every time he pressed forward. More Draco please!
“No matter what. No matter where,” Draco said again. His silver eyes seemed to
fill the world.
Harry was almost panting too hard to answer. Sweat rolled down the side of his
face and he clutched at the back of the couch as his legs began to tremble and
shake. “Yours Draco always no matter what yours please I'm yours...” he babbled
helplessly.
Draco leaned forward, staring into Harry's tear-filled eyes, and licked the
boy's soft member into his mouth. Harry gasped, body bowing in a graceful arch,
his eyes slamming shut. Heat thundered through the bond, blinding Draco to
anything else except Harry.
Clenching his right hand, Draco tore the bite mark that little bit more and he
tugged at Harry's rim, pulling it open. Harry gave a sweet, breathy cry, and
Draco came up onto his knees as the wave broke over him, his head flung back as
he thrust his thumb as deep inside Harry's body as it could go.
They collapsed tangled together, Harry half off the couch with Draco draped
over the boy's stomach, his left hand falling free to curl around Harry's
ankle. Harry's hands fluttered and hovered over Draco's head and shoulders in
quick strokes and gentle touches.
Expression soft and warm, Draco sat up and captured Harry's hands to kiss his
fingertips. * I'm going to take you so many places, Harry. We're going to do so
many things. But never forget you're mine. Nothing else matters more than that.
Keep your eyes on me, Harry, and I promise you'll never get lost. *
Harry stared at him adoringly, his hair sweat-damp and wild around his head.
Draco felt warmed all the way through as – love devotion pleasure – pulsed
inside his head. “Yes, Draco. Yours.”
Still smiling, Draco set Harry's clothes to rights, the boy pliant and
unresisting. Practically purring in satisfaction, he crawled up onto the couch
and held Harry, stroking his hair into some semblance of order until the boy
was breathing deep in sleep.
Draco lay there and rested for a few minutes longer until he couldn't stand not
knowing any longer. He had to know if the rooms were truly empty, if they were
truly safe. He carefully wiggled free and set off to explore their rooms.
The door to the left led to a bedroom. Another large window, this one with
cream-colored, gauzy curtains that still let in a spill of afternoon light. In
the center of the room stood a bed with a massive headboard carved with huge
pirate ships that could fit three adults easily. It had emerald green bedding
and a massive pile of white pillows.
The ceiling was painted to reflect a blue sky dotted with white clouds. Jewel-
colored dragons slept curled up on the clouds or swooped through the sky in
playful dives. A nightstand on either side of the bed had two drawers each. Fat
candles shoved into silver candle stick holders sat on top of both.
A huge wooden chest at at the end of the bed, making Draco think of pirates. A
dresser that matched the wood of the chest sat against one wall with seven
drawers. Along the top sat a few stuffed animals. Two double doors opened to
reveal a walk-in closet bigger than any bedroom Draco had been in. It was
sparsely filled, but Draco suspected that Narcissa would have it full to
bursting soon enough. A second, smaller door revealed a bathroom.
The tub was almost big enough to swim in. White marble with grey swirls covered
every surface. There was a sink, toilet, and a silver shower as well as the
huge claw-footed tub. Shelves held fluffy white towels. A clear cabinet held
vials and creams, floss and clippers, basically anything you'd need to be
clean. A hamper was tucked discretely under the sink, and along the sink
counter were brushes for hair and teeth. A huge mirror covered one wall. There
was a shelf over the bathtub that held a dozen bigger bottles and a few
different bars of soap.
Shaking his head at the over-the-top display of money, Draco returned to the
sitting room to see what was behind the second door. It opened into a large
closet. There were games and toys on shelves along the walls: trains, dolls,
balls, stuffed animals, and other things that he had no idea about. There were
also boxes and other things stored away.
Satisfied that they were alone and there was only one entry way into their
rooms, Draco shut the door once more and padded back to the couch. He carefully
maneuvered a still sleeping Harry so that he was lying flat on his back.
Carefully, Draco settled between Harry's thighs and draped himself protectively
across Harry's chest. Eyes on the main door, he let himself drift to the sound
of Harry's steady heartbeat under his ear.
                                       …
Lucius had returned to Narcissa immediately after seeing to the boys. She was
nearly unconscious, slumped in the chair. He scooped her up in his arms and
carried her to their wing in the manor. She came to once he settled her on the
bed, propped up on pillows. Lovingly, he undid her hair and let it spill in a
beautiful curtain down past her hips to fan out around her.
Narcissa smiled up at him, gently touching the back of his hand. “Our son is
home, Lucius.”
He smiled and bent to kiss her head. “Yes. Draco is home.”
But it wasn't the homecoming he had imagined. They were forced into a shared
custody by a soul-bond to a boy who was at the center of dangerous events. His
son was not what he expected, either. He wasn't like Lucius as a child or
Narcissa. He was strange and foreign. Still, Narcissa was right. Draco was
home. Even with all these problems, Lucius was fiercely glad to have Draco
back. Allowing his shoulders to relax, he went to the armoire to fetch
Narcissa's potions.
“We have so much to learn about our son,” she said, excited. Her blue eyes
sparkled and her smile was warm, her public mask cast aside. Her joy made her
look years younger. “And he has so much to learn about his family. We have so
much time to make up for.”
“And we will have that time,” Lucius promised. He sat on the side of the bed
and turned so he could stroke her hair and kiss her smiling lips. “Rest, Cissa.
The boys are getting settled. We will see them for dinner.”
She gave a long sigh as her eyes fell closed.
Lucius sat with her a minute longer before he was up and quietly shutting the
door behind him. In minutes, he was in his study, quill in hand. He had many
letters to write if he were going to take control of this situation.
First, he would contact Severus. They were not friends, but the man owed him
favors, and Lucius was going to collect. He wanted to know everything Severus
could find out from Dumbledore about Draco's discovery and the boy's life
before returning to them. He would also write Lupin and demand a written
accounting of his experiences pertaining to Draco. Additionally, he wanted the
name of the American Mind-healer so that Lucius could get their testimony as
well. Another letter would be addressed to the Asclepius for his personal
report regarding the bond as well as Draco's physical condition after years
among Muggles.
He would also need to write to the Daily Prophet and all the papers and
magazines who had posted the story of Draco's abduction. A simple notice that
the reward was no longer available and a request to stop publishing Draco's
story would stir the pot just enough until he decided how to orchestrate his
son's public return. Furthermore, he had to cancel the services of the
mercenaries and detectives he'd hired.
Finally, his last letter would be to his secretary to hire a researcher or
expert on the Fidelius Charm. Lucius would discover who had stolen his son away
and hidden him in America. Just because Draco had been returned to him did not
mean Lucius would forget or forgive. His rage burned too hot to ignore. Draco
was his son, his only child. Anyone who touched his son would suffer greatly,
Lucius would make sure of that.
                                       …
“Master Draco be bleeding?”
Draco's eyes slammed open and he sat up, angling his body so that Harry was
mostly behind him. The room was filled with soft light, telling Draco that more
time had passed than he'd thought. It was nearing sundown. An elf stood in the
center of the sitting room. He looked similar to the elf Dumbledore had called.
It had large bat ears, tennis-ball-like green eyes, and a pencil-like nose. It
was about three and a half feet tall, the top of his head reaching Draco's
shoulders.
Draco slipped off the couch and stood facing the creature. Harry sat up behind
him – curious calm – and watched passively as Draco confronted it. “Don't just
pop in here like that,” he ordered with a glare. “I wantcha ta knock like a
person and wait for me ta say come in. Unless I've called for ya. Then I guess
it's okay ta pop in. Got it?”
Dobby's ears wagged as it teared up. “Master Draco wants Dobby to knock like a
person?”
“Yes.” Draco continued to stare as the creature covered it's face and began to
cry. Growing impatient as the creature didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon,
he turned to check on Harry. He tugged the boy's shirt up. It stuck to the
dried blood and Harry gave a soft hiss. Blood stained the shirt where it had
pressed against his bites, but the wounds were already scabbing over.
“Master Draco's boy is hurt, sirs!”
He glanced up to see that Dobby was hovering nearby. “He's fine. But can ya
clean the blood?”
“Oh yes, Master Draco! Dobby is good at cleaning up blood!” He lifted his hand
and snapped his spider-like fingers. Draco watched in fascination as the blood
on the couch, floor, and Harry's shirt began to slowly fade. “Dobby is cleaning
it up, Master!” the creature smiled at him happily.
“Thank you,” Draco said absently, still watching the magic work.
“Master Draco be thanking Dobby!” the creature gasped, shocked. Tears welled up
in its large eyes once more.
“Why'd ya come in here anyway?” Draco quickly asked to head off the fit.
“Master Malfoy and Mistress are calling yous for dinner, Master Draco!” the elf
exclaimed, ears flapping.
Draco sighed and gave his attention to Harry. “You ready?”
Harry smiled - calm trust love - “Yes, Draco.” His hips still throbbed and his
hole was still sore and hot. It was as if Draco were still touching him.
Shivering at the thought, Harry accepted Draco's hand and they followed Dobby
out into the hall and through the manor. They were led back the way they'd come
and down the marble staircase, but then they went in the opposite direction of
the fireplace room, down another hallway, and were led into an elegant dinning
room.
It had cream wallpaper with brown diamond swirled patterns with a soft yellow
chandelier that looked like bare tree branches with about a dozen golden
candles. There was a big silver mirror on one wall that sat above the halfway
mark. Underneath the mirror on the lower half on the wall was white wood with a
small lip at the top.
The table was dark wood in a rectangle that could fit three dinning chairs on
the long sides and two chairs at either end. The floor was polished wood, and
there were two narrow windows that stood floor to ceiling and showed a small
hedge garden. On the center of the table was a low bowl of white flowers and
two silver candle sticks with white candles lit. The ceiling was white, but you
could see fat wooden beams crossing along the top.
Draco's parents were waiting for them. Harry gave a shy smile and wave,
clinging to Draco's hand, as Lucius stood at their entrance. Again the man
tipped his head in a now familiar gesture. His expression wasn't cold, but he
looked guarded. Narcissa, however, gave them the warmest smile he'd seen from
her yet.
“Come. Have a seat. I know you must be hungry.” She gestured to the two chairs
that sat next to each other on the long side of the table while Narcissa and
Lucius occupied either end, facing each other.
Harry took the seat Draco gently pushed him toward. It was the one on
Narcissa's side of the table. Draco took the chair on Lucius's side. Harry
stared at the china plates that sat on top of each other, each slightly smaller
than the one on the bottom, and the many silver forks, knives, and spoons that
surrounded it. It was beautiful and weird, but it fit in such a fancy room.
“I will walk you through dinner etiquette,” Narcissa told them, her voice and
expression warm. “It's an important skill to have in polite society. It's like
a language, and if you know how to speak, doors to people in power will open.
It is a means of protection as well as a means to influence society to your
wishes. You would have learned this language from birth had you not been
stolen, and it is certainly not too late for you to learn. We want to provide
you with every advantage we can to be successful in this world.”
Draco said nothing. He wasn't convinced all this formality and fancy rooms were
strictly necessary. Money opened doors, sure, but it didn't matter if it came
with fancy rooms or fancy manners. Still, there was a chance that they were
right and it was needed to function in the magical world. In that case, Draco
would take everything they gave him.
Harry ducked his head shyly and said, “Thank you...”
“Lady Narcissa,” she filled in. Her posture was perfect, her golden hair woven
into large braids and coiled at the back of her head. Her dress was a misty
grey, simple yet beautiful.
“Thank you, Lady Narcissa,” Draco said pointedly, meeting her eyes in
challenge. He wanted to make it crystal clear that he and Harry were a package
deal. What goes for one, goes for the other. If Harry couldn't call her mother,
then neither would he.
Narcissa said nothing, but her warm expression had disappeared into a blank
mask. Even still, she didn't miss a beat and gently clapped her hands.
Immediately an elf appeared with a floating tray. Draco tracked the creatures
progress – he did notice it wasn't Dobby – but Narcissa and Lucius very
carefully did not acknowledge the creature's presence as pea soup in delicate
little bowls was floated on top of their plates.
“Thank you,” Harry said again, smiling at the elf.
The elf's eyes went wide, but fortunately the creature did not begin to cry.
“We do not thank creatures, Harry,” Lucius explained. He sat calm and regal at
the end of the table, his eyes thoughtful as he watched them. His hair was
pulled back in the same low ponytail, but his suit had been replaced with a
thick, dark blue wizard robe that was tailored to fit his shoulders and chest
perfectly. “Even had they been human servants, you do not thank a person for
doing something they are supposed to do. Gratitude should only happen when a
person goes out of their way to benefit you. Creatures deserve even less
consideration. It is their purpose to serve. They should thank us for giving
them purpose and pride for otherwise their existence is pointless and
unnecessary.”
Draco did not like the – understanding – that flowed through the bond. Harry
instantly identified with the elf. The casual description of slavery fit
Harry's understanding of reality and reinforced all those notions that he
didn't deserve anything except punishment and should be deeply grateful for
even basic care.
“They're only supposed'ta serve because they allow it,” Draco said coldly,
staring Lucius down. “Basic gratitude is owed them because they're makin' a
choice and could change that choice at any time. I'm grateful they continue to
choose ta serve.”
Lucius was not impressed. He lifted a single pale brow. “When you thank someone
it puts yourself in their debt. You are acknowledging that they have done
something to be thanked for and thus you now owe them. That embarrasses these
creatures. It also gives them a false expectation for we owe them nothing.”
“Why false?” Draco demanded. “You do owe them. You owe them protection and
basic care in exchange for their service. That is the form of your gratitude.
And their gratitude for that protection and care is their service to you.”
“That is a very interesting perspective,” Narcissa cut in. She lifted the outer
most spoon and held it delicately between her slender-fingers.“The soup grows
cold, however.” She gave all three of them a pointed look. “Generally, you work
from the outside in toward your plate as the meal progresses.” She used her
spoon to indicate the row of silverware. “I know this may seem silly, but I
cannot express to you how damaging it can be if you eat in an impolite manner.
You will be made a joke by others and laughed at to your face or behind your
back. I know it may seem stifling at first and you may not understand why I am
starting this now, but you have many years to catch up on. Your peers are
already way ahead of you.”
Draco relented. He checked on Harry who was still – calm accepting– and lifted
the outside spoon.
Narcissa smiled, her warm expression returning. “Try and hold it so. Do not
lean toward the bowl. Bring the spoon to your mouth. Taste the soup and enjoy
the flavor. In this setting, only the best will be provided.”
Harry hummed as soon as the soup hit his tongue. Draco followed him and he had
to admit it was delicious, which actually made it even harder to eat the way
Narcissa was demonstrating. He wanted to eat the soup quickly; it was delicious
and he was hungry. Instead, he took the little sips she wanted. She smiled at
him in reward, clearly delighted. Draco ignored that. He would follow along for
now, but the second he deemed these people as unnecessary they would be gone.
Chapter end.
A/N:I'm not sure how many of you will read this author's note, however, I felt
I must explain something. I received a review from someone very upset by this
story. I was called sick and accused of promoting pedophilia, if I wasn't one
myself. I've received flames in the past, but this one really hurt me.
I in NO WAY endorse or think it okay to hurt a child in any form. I do not
think it sexy or acceptable. That being said, sexually abused children exist in
the world. I personally have experienced that horror. On my journey, I have
studied the psychology of perpetrators and survivors of sexual abuse and sexual
slavery in an attempt to make sense of it all. And this story is my way of
piecing all I've learned together to understand how such darkness can exist.
Because it DEFINITELY is more complicated that a “few people are sick”. There
is a societal system in place that allows child abuse and rape to FLOURISH. It
is not something that happens rarely. A large percent of our populace has
experienced sexual assault and abuse, and human trafficking is PROSPERING
today. I am exploring that through writing in an attempt to understand it.
If it wasn't clear before, what Draco and Harry suffered in this story is
HORRIBLE. One of many aspects that I am pursuing is to contrast the abuse they
suffered at the hands of adults to the consensual love between the boys. To
show how sex can be a beautiful thing in one form and a weapon in another
(which baffles me still today).
The fact that the boys are still children and sexual is also realistic.
Children of sexual abuse and especially sexual slavery have had sex become
normalized. Once the box is opened, it can't be shut. A lot of people think
this is disgusting and that the kid is forever tarnished by it, but through
Draco and Harry I want to test that social convention.
I am not promoting children becoming sexually active. Children should be
children! But I don't want to just write off the kids who had no choice and had
that door open early. I don't want shove them in a dark societal corner. Their
knowledge and sexual experience is socially unacceptable, but that's what is. I
want to explore Draco and Harry coming to terms with society and society coming
to terms with them.
I am deeply concerned if this story is interpreted in any other way.
Thank you for allowing me to explain this. The reviewer who was so disgusted by
me did not leave me a way to answer back, but I had to get this out.

 
***** New Relationships *****
                               New_Relationships
Draco and Harry drifted in and out of sleep. The room was too foreign and open,
every shadow and sound making Draco's eyes pop open and Harry tense. Between
the intercontinental portkey and ending up in a mansion with Draco's
birthparents, they needed sleep desperately. Beyond exhausted, they clung to
each other in a bed too big and soft.
Pulled from a restless sleep, Harry's eyes fluttered open. The low-level
anxiety he'd developed as he tried his best to learn the manners that Narcissa
had begun to teach them still clung to his mind. “Others will look down on you
and Draco if you do not act as a Malfoy should,” she'd said. Draco was so
amazing! Harry didn't want to be the reason someone thought bad of Draco. “Love
you so much,” he whispered half-asleep, staring into Draco's shadowed face
inches from his own.
Draco touched their foreheads together and stroked Harry's cheek. The devotion
in those sleepy eyes made his heart ache. “Shhh. I've got ya.”
Feeling safe once more, Harry drifted off once more.
Draco continued to gently pet the boy's face with gentle caresses. He tried to
close his eyes, but a maze of museum-ready rooms and unending corridors filled
his mind. Lucius had taken them on a tour of the manor after dinner, and the
place was impossible to wrap his mind around. There was a fucking ballroom,and
it had been connected to a formal dinning hall three times as big as the
“small” dinning room they had eaten in. The hall had the longest table Draco
had ever seen and could sit ten people on either side with an additional two at
each end!
This room had made a major impression on Draco, and he kept going back there in
his mind. It was the darkest room they had been shown. The table and chairs had
been almost black, matching the wood flooring. Even the enormous rug under the
table and chairs had been darker, made of pale grey, brown, blue, and green – a
dark honey-comb pattern. The furniture had looked heavy and ominous compared to
the furniture in other rooms; each chair had been thick with high backs and
carved tops.
It didn't matter that everything in the room was massive and the room itself
was one of the biggest Draco had ever seen, it still made Draco feel
claustrophobic. Partly due to the shadows filling every corner and crevice,
which not even two brightly lit silver chandeliers hanging above the table and
Lucius's spell for light had been able to banish.
But it hadn't just been the darkness that had made Draco's skin crawl. The
trapped feeling had come from the massive windows that mostly filled two sides
of the room. They were made with a thick criss-cross frames with dozens of
square panes, which gave the room the feel of one large cage.
The enormous stone fireplace that had paralleled the long side of the table had
added to the creepy feel of the room. It was made from the same pale stone as
the pillars scattered throughout the room. (It was these pillars that were the
source of the many shadows.) The fireplace had a huge marble piece on top with
what had looked like two tunnels with no end etched onto it. Devil faces had
been sculpted along the mantle to add to the dark aura. Inside where the fire
burned, a crest – the Malfoy crest, Draco guessed – had been carved deep into
the stone.
Lucius's words still echoed in his mind. “Many dinners have been hosted in this
very room that have changed the course of the world.” Draco could believe it.
He could easily picture Lucius making people cower here as they sipped at their
soup and ate careful little bites with their little forks.
If all that wasn't enough, a stone half-wall at the end of the room behind the
head of the table had hidden stairs from view. Lucius had explained that all
the food-stuff for a feast would be brought there, to what he called a cellar,
for quick and easy transport to the table. Stepping into that cramped, low-
ceiling space with curved arches and more pillars, it had been like stepping
into the Hold once more. It had taken Harry wrapping his arms around him and
filling the bond with – protective love– to get Draco to snap out of it and
climb back up the stairs after Lucius as if nothing were wrong.
The dinning hall had also been connected to the second floor. A second stone
staircase tucked into a corner had led up to a narrow hallway with a four guest
rooms, in case they were needed after a particularly festive ball. The other
end of the hall led to a wider corridor that ended at the large marble
staircase and the lighter side of the house.
Beside the ballroom, dinning hall, guest rooms, and cellar, they had seen a
sitting room, a parlor, a receiving room (which was the room with the traveling
fireplace), a hall of portraits, a two-story library, Lucius's office,
Narcissa's sun room, the master suite, several half-baths, and a kitchen with a
second basement cellar – this one called a pantry.
Lucius had explained there was also an attic and a basement potion lab, but he
felt those weren't necessary for the boys to see. Head already spinning, Draco
hadn't pushed. Tomorrow Lucius had promised another tour, this time of the
grounds. Draco could just imagine how much land that was going to include and
nearly felt like giving up.
Making a soft sound in the back of his throat, he rolled onto his side and
spooned Harry. Curling his legs toward his chest, he forced Harry to do the
same and practically wrapped himself around the smaller boy. It felt like the
Hold all over again: trapped in a cage with people who had power over him, this
time more elaborate and harder to escape.
True, Lucius and Narcissa hadn't hurt them. - Yet. - But if they did, they were
Draco's biological parents, what could he do to stop it? Run away? When magic
would track him and Harry down and bring them back? Draco wasn't stupid. No one
would stop Lucius from putting them in one of those cellars if he grew angry.
Not to mention the creative and subtle things possible with magic.
The only way Draco could defend them was by being clever as all hell and his
deadly magic, which should have been enough, but the problem with his magic was
that he could only hurt the Malfoys if they got close enough to touch him.
Draco was very aware of the fact that Lucius hadn't gotten close since
Dumbledore's office. Even Narcissa kept a “polite” distance.
Considering all this, the only things keeping Draco relatively calm were the
fact that the Malfoys were obviously anxious about his opinion of them and
seemed to value him. He felt confident that as long as that was the case, he
could use their emotions as leverage and some degree of protection.
He also remembered the rule in the guardianship contract that if there was
“abuse” Tonks would be able to take them and keep them. But Draco had no idea
what “abuse” meant. Did it mean blood drawn? Did it mean near death? There were
a million ways to torment a person that didn't leave a mark. He wasn't going to
depend on that clause protecting them. There was also Dumbledore and Remus.
Draco was certain they wouldn't tolerate Harry being hurt, but neither of them
had wanted them to go with the Malfoys in the first place and they hadn't been
strong enough to stop it.
Another reason Draco found it hard to sleep was the thought of Voldemort coming
back. It was knowledge that hovered in the back of his mind constantly since
his talk with Remus in the their little kitchen in Lusio. Voldemort would be
out for Harry's blood, and the Malfoys had ties to that evil. Instead of making
him want to stay away, Draco had an interesting thought. From what he'd learned
from Remus (and the Malfoys themselves), the Malfoys were very powerful. If he
could steal them from Voldemort, it would add another level of protection
around Harry. Draco would not fucking let anyone touch his Harry!
Sleepless, mind spinning in circles, Draco stared dully over Harry's head at
the moonlight and shadows sliding along the wall. He wasn't about to fail the
only person to truly love him, who didn't want to control him or use him for
some reason of their own. Harry cherished Draco, and Draco would spend his life
protecting that whatever it took.
Tucking his face into the crazy mop of Harry's hair, Draco held the boy tightly
and tried to rest. A memory shifted to the top of his racing thoughts:
“Just make somethin' up til we fall asleep.”
For a long minute, Harry sat silently in his arms, but then he began to talk.
“There was a boy. He was a Prince. He, um, he had snow white hair and grey
eyes.”
Draco smirked and held the boy tighter. “I like this story.”
Harry tilted his head back to smile up at him before snuggling back down into
Draco's body, their two thin blankets wrapped tightly around them both. “The
Prince. He was in a big castle. He lived there. It was so big and white. There
were big rooms that had gold floors and gold ceilings. And there were tables
and tables of food. Big roasts and potatoes and everything. There were even
pies and cakes! Chocolate and lemon. And he would go outside and ride horses.
They were white like his hair. They would run and run. The wind would blow in
his face. It was like he was flying. . .”
Draco held the boy tight and let himself fall away into the painfully beautiful
story where Draco was a prince.
… and he slept.
                                       …
Severus silently climbed the spiral staircase to the Headmaster's office. He
didn't bother knocking. He strode calmly into the room, knowing the Headmaster
would be waiting. Sure enough, the ancient wizard was stepping off the second
staircase that led to the Headmaster's sleeping quarters. He was dressed in
peach-colored robes with bright eyes behind shinning spectacles despite the
fact that it was just going on six in the morning.
“Severus, good morning!” Dumbledore smiled happily at him – As if Harry Potter
wasn't even now sleeping in Lucius' clutches... If he had even managed to
survive the night.
“Headmaster,” Severus returned evenly. He felt a twist of pleasure when he saw
Dumbledore's smile dim. Nothing took the wind out of the old man's sails faster
than when he was denied a reaction.
“What brings you this fine morning, my boy?” Dumbledore stepped over to his
massive desk and settled into his padded desk chair. “Tea?” A wave of an age-
knotted hand and a silver tea set with steam rising from the pot appeared on
the wooden surface.
Severus moved to the chair facing the desk and sat. “No. Thank you. I've
already had a coffee.”
Dumbledore's bushy eyebrow raised. “You were up early,” he noted, fishing. He
would not come straight out and ask why Severus was there. It wasn't his way.
Severus slid his hand into his inner robe pocket and retrieved the folded
letter inside. He passed it to the Headmaster without explanation. Dumbledore
took it, his expression not changing a bit. It took him no longer than a moment
to read Lucius Malfoy's brief yet direct message.
“When were you going to tell me the brat was taken by Lucius-Bloody-Malfoy?”
Severus asked calmly, yet inside he was on fire. His vow to Lily's corpse
burned inside his soul. - Failed her. Can't fail her son. Not again.
Dumbledore leaned back, hands folded across his thin stomach as he met
Severus's glinting, dark eyes. “Things happened very quickly, Severus. As soon
as the boys arrived, the spell concealing Draco's identity shattered. Whoever
stole the poor child from his family used a very creatively altered version of
the Fidelius Charm. There was no possible way for me to keep the knowledge of
Draco Malfoy's location from his parents. Not without serious consequences, as
you can well fathom. The best I could do was force a co-guardianship with
Harry's legal guardian, Andromeda Tonks. They have decided on an alternating
residency schedule, and of course the Malfoys demanded to host the boys first.”
“And you did not inform me yesterday why?” Severus began to tap his fingers on
the desktop.
“I wanted to reflect on the shocking events.” Dumbledore's smile returned as
bright as ever. “And I figured breakfast would be soon enough to share the
news. And so it has been!”
Severus lifted an eyebrow but otherwise didn't react. “Potter is not safe with
Lucius.”
Blue eyes gone hard, Dumbledore looked at him from over his glasses. “He cannot
harm Harry without damaging his son.”
“He asks me to research potions that could break their bond,” Severus countered
with a glare. “Draco will not protect him long.”
Dumbledore had the audacity to laugh. “My boy, Draco will protect him always,
bond or no, and Harry will do likewise.” Settling back again, he began to pour
his tea. “I saw their bond with my own eyes, Severus. It was very strong. Those
boys are bonded by magic, mind, and soul. There is no way to break it without
at least some damage to Draco. Lucius will not risk it.”
“I am glad you are so confident,” Severus snarked, fingers drumming faster.
“Regardless, what about this request to spy on you for more information about
where Draco came from and what he may have experienced since his abduction? He
may not be able to harm Potter, but knowing too much could still give him too
much power over his mind.”
Dumbledore grew quiet and brooding as he sipped his tea. Severus let him think.
He was thinking himself. There was nothing good about this situation that he
could see. The Potter brat must have been cursed by more than just the Dark
Lord; his luck was just too horrible. Or maybe he was being forged by fate into
Severus's punishment. Thinking of it that way, Severus felt like it made karmic
sense. He'd grown complacent, and now he was suffering the agony of helpless
worry over a child he hated and yet was driven to protect.
“I would prefer Lucius to be curbed,” Dumbledore finally spoke. He did not meet
Severus's eyes. Instead, he spoke toward the window as he watched the sun rise.
“There is no way of stopping him from getting the information he seeks. If he
suspects you are not being forthcoming or helpful, he will go elsewhere to get
what he wants. Therefore, answer his summons. Be useful. Get into his
confidence. Mitigate his power where you can, but do not jeopardize your
position. We will need some way of monitoring Harry's wellbeing and safety
while he resides there. This is the perfect opportunity to do so.”
“You are asking me to spy on Lucius Malfoy,” Severus stated coldly. “The man is
infamous for his cruelty and intelligence. He is no mad Dark Lord, Dumbledore.
This could well get me killed.”
Dumbledore turned and faced him, his expression soft and filled with a
compassion that made Severus literally feel nauseous. “I have the utmost faith
in your judgement. If you feel the risks outweigh the benefits, I will say no
more on the subject.”
Without a word, Severus stood and left Dumbledore in his office. Black robes
swirling around his legs, he strode toward the safety and comfort of his
dungeons, a pair of twinkling faded-blue eyes and vibrant green haunting every
beat of his pounding heart.
                                       …
Narcissa had dressed strategically for the meeting with her sister. She wore a
simple dark blue blouse with ruffles along the shoulders and silver buttons up
the bodice. Silver and blue embroidery decorated her short sleeves, and her
hair was secured in a black lace net at the back of her head. Her long skirt
fell to the floor, a perfect black. Black for the Noble House of Black and deep
blue for the Noble House of Malfoy. She represented the past and future of both
Noble Houses, and that made her superior in all ways.
Hands folded demurely in front of her, Narcissa stood by the small table she'd
had the elves prepare in the receiving room. She and Andromeda would have to
work together, but that didn't mean she had to let the woman roam around the
house. Andromeda would remain in the room she arrived in and would get no
further.
At exactly twelve o'clock, the fire flared and Andromeda smoothly stepped from
the green flames. She wore a white lace and cotton summer dress with the
traditional long sleeves and her dark hair woven into a single thick braid
looped once around her head. Her expression was polite and aloof just as
Narcissa's was - as they'd both been taught. Narcissa mentally bared her teeth
in a smile at her sister's dress color, white to her dark. She was making her
own statement.
“Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat,” Narcissa spoke softly, gesturing
to the small table.
She waited for Andromeda to take a seat before sitting with her. An elf
appeared with a steaming pot of tea and poured for them. Narcissa had chosen
their second best tea set; second best to flaunt their wealth and yet refusing
the best set as a statement of her guest's unworthiness.
Unbothered, Andromeda lifted the delicate cup and murmured polite words of
gratitude for the invitation and compliments on the tea. “How are the boys
adjusting?” she asked, her dark eyes watchful and intelligent in her heart-
shaped face.
Narcissa took her time sipping from her cup and setting it down before
answering. “They are taking a tour of the grounds with Lucius. I believe they
are going to have a picnic lunch, so I regret you will not be able to see them
today.”
Andromeda's lips curled into a cool smile. “Of course. I am pleased they are
having such a nice outing. The weather is lovely this time of year.”
“It is,” Narcissa mirrored her empty smile. “As to their future, we plan on
giving the boys a traditional education. Elocution and diction, manners,
dancing, riding, fencing, maths, language, history, and business.”
Except for the lessons in business, which Lucius would teach the boys, Narcissa
was trained in all the other subjects. It was the wife's job to train and raise
the children. She had been dreaming of having her own while she'd still been a
child herself, and she would always grieve the precious years she'd lost with
Draco.
Andromeda set her tea down and linked her fingers politely on the table edge.
“I see no reason to protest that arrangement. They will of course continue
their dancing, maths, and language lessons with me, as well as science and a
subject of their choice.”
Narcissa sipped her tea, gazing at her sister with a hint of disdain. “It
pleases me that you value education, even though you do not have a fully
rounded curriculum for the children in mind.”
A wide smile broke across Andromeda's face. “Children must have time to play,
after all.”
Narcissa would have glared, but she refused to be baited out of her polite
mask. “May I inquire into your place of residence?”
“My husband, daughter, and I live in a small townhouse near Diagon Alley in
London.”
Andromeda took her cup and lifted it. The conversation was forced to pause as
the elf refilled and prepared her cup. Andromeda took her time adding cream and
sugar, a smile still playing about her thin lips. Her arched, dark brows lifted
slightly to show humor as she looked at her sister coyly from under her lashes.
“It is a modest three bedroom,” she continued. “The boys will make the
guestroom their own; Nymphadora's room will serve as the guestroom while she is
at school. It will be cozy, but I am certain I can provide a healthy
environment for the boys in addition to furthering their education.”
Narcissa felt rage crackle along her nerves, like ice cracking over quick
water. How dare Andromeda! Draco was her purpose, her life! And Andromeda dare
imply the environment at the Manor would be unhealthy?
Andromeda's expression sobered, done toying with Narcissa for now. “Have you
considered your strategy for reintroducing the children to society?”
Narcissa answered coldly, “We have not decided as of yet. Lucius and I will
floo you by the end of the week to discuss possibilities.”
“I would like to request having the boys for my visitation period next
weekend.” Andromeda's smile widened when Narcissa's hand froze, her tea cup a
few inches from her lips. “I'd also like to exchange weekly letters with the
boys. Of course, I will encourage them to do the same with you when they are
with me.”
Blue eyes icy, Narcissa set her cup down with a sharp click. “That is
acceptable, however...” Narcissa shed her mask to let the fierce fury of a
mother shine through as she met her sister's surprised eyes. “Do not treat me
as the younger sister you knew, Andromeda. I am a woman unknown to you. I am
capable of things you cannot fathom, and if I think for one minute you are
toying with my son in some game to get to me, I will rip you apart.”
Andromeda set her cup down and met her sister head on. Her smile was gone, her
brows lowered in a thunderous glare. “They will be my children as much as
yours, Cissa. I will not have you train them to bow to sociopathic monsters
with melodramatic titles.”
Narcissa stood, her skirt rustling. Glaring down at her older sister, she gave
a ice cold smile. “Headmaster Dumbledore promised me copies of the children's
medical records. I also plan on having our personal healer examine them both.
As per the contract, I will make sure you get copies of both reports.”
“I look forward to it.” Smiling once more, Andromeda gracefully stood and
reached into a folded pocket in her skirt. She removed a sealed letter and set
it carefully on the table. “For the boys. Thank you for the tea, Narcissa.
Let's do this again sometime.”
Narcissa said nothing as her sister moved to the floo and disappeared. Staring
down at the letter, she was tempted to destroy it, but although her hatred
burned as strong as ever for her sister, she would not let Andromeda come
between her and her son. If she destroyed the letter, Andromeda would be within
her rights to destroy Narcissa's, and Narcissa was not willing to risk the only
means of communication she'd have with her son when he was away.
                                       …
Lucius strode into his office after having taken the boys to Narcissa in her
sunroom for afternoon lessons. Pulling his riding gloves from his hands, he
carelessly tossed them on his desk and scooped up the scrolls that two owls had
delivered that morning while he'd toured the grounds with the boys.
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the children's awe and
trepidation when they had come face-to-face with the large Arabian horses for
the first time. Agrippa and Caelius were twin stallions who had turned two that
spring. They were beautiful: gracefully shaped with solid white coats and dark
intelligent eyes. They were at the age to be sold and broken, but Lucius had
not been able to part with them. It seemed like fate now. The two were perfect
for the boys.
Agrippa was much more energetic, long legs prancing, as the two young stallions
and their mother, Juno, were summoned by Lucius's spell. Much to Lucius's
pleasure, Draco had immediately pushed Potter toward the more calm Caelius,
claiming Agrippa for himself. Draco had not been afraid of the large animal,
but he had been wary and careful. Not so of Potter; the dark-haired boy's
expression was terribly open and had displayed his awe and fear clearly.
At least Potter was obedient, even if he was timid. He hadn't balked when told
to mount. In fact, he followed every order directly, even as he was clearly
afraid of making a mistake. Draco was the complete opposite. He was extremely
hard to read and obeyed only because he chose to. Lucius was acutely aware that
his son could become less complacent at any moment, those watchful grey eyes
constantly calculating the costs and gains of compliance. Eventually, Lucius
would be on the losing end of that scale.
It was strange to be simultaneously proud that his son was independent and
strong-minded and also deeply regretful that Draco wasn't as malleable and open
as Harry. Still, Lucius had enjoyed teaching the boys the basics of riding.
They had listened attentively, and Draco had immediately set out to test the
signals Lucius had taught him to direct Agrippa. Potter, however, had been
content to sit passively and let Caelius decide where to go and when.
Fortunately, Caelius preferred to stay by Agrippa's side, and Potter hadn't
fallen behind during the tour of the grounds.
It had definitely been interesting, but now was not the time to reflect.
Drumming his fingers against his desk, Lucius forced his thoughts from the
children and back to the matter at hand. He settled in his desk chair and
unrolled the first scroll. It was the medical results from Madam Pomfrey at
Hogwarts. He frowned at the information contained within, and he reminded
himself to confirm the appointment he had scheduled tomorrow with their
personal healer.
The second scroll was much longer. It contained Lupin's accounting of his
experiences with the boys from first contact onward. It was a strictly factual
retelling, but he was grateful for that. It had been hard enough to read the
details of Draco and Harry's condition after being rescued from the Scourers;
he did not need a descriptive narrative.
Slamming his fist down on the desk, Lucius sat forward, platinum-blond hair
curtaining his rage-twisted face. It infuriated him that the Scourers had all
been killed during the rescue... Infuriated him that his son's abductor was
still out of reach! He neededto stand over the broken bodies of the ones who
dared touch his son! And yet he was denied agin and again.
Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Lucius carefully set the scroll aside to
give to Narcissa later. Head resting against the chair-back, he folded his
hands across his stomach. Summer sunlight spilled through the office window,
warming his skin as he gathered his thoughts.
Lupin's was a very intriguing tale, but it left out a lot of information. The
person whom Draco had been living with when Lupin had made contact with the
boys had not been Draco's abductor. The boys, in fact, had only come to live
with the Muggle recently and had already been together when they came to live
with the man. So where had they been before that? How did they meet in the
first place, and where? The medical report revealed Draco had possessed the
remnants of significant wounds older than the Scourers's attack, and Potter's
body still showed the effects of longterm starvation. What exactly had happened
to them?
Suddenly, the Malfoy wards whispered along his mind. “Lottie.”
“Master?” a small voice squeaked.
Lucius turned cold eyes toward the creature cowering in the center of the room.
“Professor Snape is arriving by floo. Please show him here.”
The little elf disappeared immediately.
Lucius sat back with a sharp smile, pleased his letter had made an impression.
Snape was a Halfblood coward who had hid behind Dumbledore to escape prison,
but he was also talented and easy to manipulate if one was clever enough.
Lucius wasn't above using any tool at his disposal, and Snape was going to help
him untangle the truth from the lies.
Dumbledore clearly had plans for Potter. Whether it was sentimentality for the
child who had won the war for him or something more, Lucius was uncertain, and
that was unacceptable. The fact that the boy had defeated the Dark Lord
certainly made things more complicated, but that did not change Lucius's
obligation toward a child being raised by the Noble House of Malfoy.
Besides, if Pomfrey had accurately measured the bond between the children, then
it was clear there would be no possible way to part the children without
harming Draco. Harry Potter was indeed Draco's twin; their magical signature
was as blended as if they were conceived together, split from the same egg.
However, that did not mean there might not come a time where the results of
breaking the bond would be preferable to keeping the bond in place. Snape could
be useful to him there as well.
The office door opened. Lucius remained seated and smiled as the man swept in,
wearing all black robes and a scowl. Snape's hair was lank and oily as it was
every other time Lucius had met him. His skin was pale but unnaturally so, as
if he avoided sunlight on purpose. With a hawk-like nose and thin lips, he was
not an attractive man.
Lucius would have overlooked him completely, but Snape had genuinely impressed
him with his intelligence and intuitive grasp of magic, and it was undeniable
that he was a true genius when it came to potions. Snape may be a Halfblood,
but Lucius suspected Snape's magical heritage was formidable to produce such
talents.
The man bowed his head slightly and took a few steps into the room. Long,
dexterous fingers slipped into his robe pocket and retrieved the letter Lucius
had pinned. A quick flick and it landed neatly on Lucius's desk. Voice
surprisingly deep and melodious, Snape said, “I'm here as requested. What
exactly is this tome of unparallelled knowledge?”
Lucius sat back, smug. “Why, Professor Snape, it is a pleasure to see you.
Please have a seat.” He gestured expansively toward the chair across from him.
“Would you care for a drink?”
Snape sneered and crossed his arms, unsociable and unmannered as Lucius
remembered. “I do not have time to waste, Mr. Malfoy. Why did you summon me
here with such a mysterious lure?”
Lucius sat straight, pinning the younger man with a hard look. With a wave of
his hand and wandless magic, a thin leather-bound book that looked near to
falling apart slid off one of the nearby mahogany bookshelves and settled
gently in the exact center of Lucius's desk. They both stared at the book a
moment before Lucius spoke.
“Damascius's Difficulties and Solutions of the First Principleswritten at the
turn of the sixth century. It was thought to have been destroyed. Only a few
replications are known to exist, all in private collections. This, however, is
the priceless original.”
Snape stepped closer toward the desk as if pulled on strings. His eyes stared
hungrily at the ancient manuscript.
Smiling coldly, Lucius casually set his hand atop the book. Immediately,
Snape's eyes lifted. “It's only yours if you fulfill your end of the bargain,
Snape.” He tipped his head toward the chair across from him. “Now, have a seat.
We have much to discuss.”
Snape stood stiffly for a moment more, but his eyes darted back down to the
ancient book, and he folded gracefully into the seat across from Lucius.
Lucius lifted his hand to reveal the book once more and sat back. He watched
Snape thoughtfully. The man watched him back, patient as he must be when he
made complicated potions. Satisfied that he had his undivided attention, Lucius
began, “There are two things you can provide for me before this priceless book
is yours. First...” He offered the other man a cold smile. “Just how much does
Dumbledore trust you, Professor Snape?”
Snape's face went blank. “Dumbledore has come to rely on me for more...
questionable tasks,” he finally answered. “But he is not one to share
confidences.”
“But you have some knowledge of what has occurred,” Lucius challenged, drumming
his fingers on his desk once more.
Snape gave a single nod. “I do. I was summoned to Potter's Muggle home when it
was discovered he was missing, and I was persuaded to use my talent for Dark
Magic in an attempt to find him. When I failed, Dumbledore turned to others to
track the boy. I was curious how one could succeed where I had failed, so
Dumbledore has kept me somewhat informed.”
Lucius chuckled. “So prideful, Professor.” His fingers continued to drum. “And
now Potter is back.”
“Do you seek revenge?” Snape asked quietly.
Lucius's fingers stilled and his smile grew, his eyes going silver. “Oh no.
Nothing as ordinary as that, Professor. I merely seek to understand and protect
my charge. Potter is now in my custody, twin-bonded to my son, Draco.” Lucius
was watching very carefully, but Snape's expression had revealed a split second
of surprise before blanking again. Snape had not known. “What did you learn at
Potter's Muggle house?”
Snape eyed the precious book for a second before answering. “It was the home of
Lily Potter's Muggle sister. Dumbledore erected Blood Wards to keep Potter safe
from retaliation the day after the Dark Lord's fall. Potter had lived there
until he was lost.”
Lucius frowned but he didn't interrupt. How exactly did one lose a child?
Eyes shifting to the side, head tilting so more of his oily bangs shadowed his
face, Snape spoke softly, as if revealing a deep secret. “They detest Potter
and are terrified of magic. It was... not an optimal environment for the boy.
The uncle eventually sold him on the Muggle blackmarket for three thousand
pounds.”
Lucius felt his eyes narrow as his hand drew into a fist.
“That was half a year before Dumbledore even knew he was missing. By the time I
was ordered to find Potter, all I could tell was that he was overseas,” Snape
finished. He reached for the book.
Lucius tapped the desk, causing Snape's reaching hand to freeze. “I want you to
return to that house and bring me those Muggles.”
Snape's expression folded into a condescending sneer. Without another word, he
stood.
Lucius's voice became low and compelling. “Come, Professor. You must despise
them as much as I. They abused a magical child. Think of it. We will be co-
conspirators in a just cause. And if you are concerned about being discovered,
I would hardly turn you in if I am going to participate as well.”
Glaring, Snape demanded, “Is this the price for the tome?”
“No.” Lucius held his eyes. “Just an invitation of friendship. My price for the
book is for you to research ways to dissolve a twin bond without hurting the
individuals who hold one and to learn Dumbledore's plans for Potter if
possible.”
“You plan on separating your son from Potter,” Snape stated, glare softening
with curiosity. “Then why care about avenging the boy? Why care what Dumbledore
has planned?”
“They abused a magical child and sold him for three thousand pounds,” Lucius
repeated, staring Snape dead in the eye. “Think on that, Professor. As for
Dumbledore, Potter is my foster-child and I will know what that old man
intends.”
Snape stared for a moment more before turning and leaving the office in a swirl
of black robes.
Lucius sat back with a smile. Snape would be back, and if Lucius were very
lucky, he'd bring the Muggles with him.
Chapter end.
A/N: Is there too much Malfoy Manor description? Also, what do you think about
the Malfoys', Andromeda's, and Snape's characterization so far?
 
***** Revelations *****
Updated: 10.13.16
                                  Revelations
Severus stepped free of the floo in the Hog's Head with a scowl firmly in
place. Without acknowledging anyone, he strode from the filthy pub and made his
way back to Hogwarts. His expression didn't change until he was safely within
his personal lab, the wards locked tight around him.
Glare melting into something more thoughtful, he calmly pulled his hair up into
a ponytail. Growing up with his father and then later being under the power of
a capricious Dark Lord, Severus had become very skilled at reading people. He
felt confident that Lucius had fully believed his persona. He had expected to
see a poor, cowering, bitter man with washed up ambitions, so it had not been
difficult to convince him that it was true.
Hands moving with practiced ease, Severus poured purified water into a pumpkin-
sized, iron cauldron, filling it halfway. Meticulously, he set out his rods,
stirrers, knives, and measuring spoons as he continued to reflect on the
meeting.
From what he could tell, Lucius was taking Potter as his ward seriously.
Severus had deduced this from two facts. First, he'd wanted to take personal
revenge on Potter's family, and second he was willing to relinquish a priceless
artifact for information on Dumbledore's knowledge and plans for the boys. Such
motivation was much stronger than simple curiosity. He also would not be as
invested in Potter as he already was if he did not feel genuine obligation
toward the child.
Severus had yet to see the magical readings regarding the bond the boys had
somehow developed, but it must be powerful indeed if Lucius was not committed
to breaking it. Lucius had emphasized spying on Dumbledore more than the twin
bond research, therefore the research he'd requested into how to break twin-
bonds was merely to keep his options open.
On the whole, the meeting had eased Severus's worry regarding Potter's safety,
but he was still concerned. The Malfoys would introduce Potter to questionable
circles and subtly work on the boy's sense of morality. And there was the fact
that Dumbledore was absolutely certain the Dark Lord would eventually return.
That would pit Lucius against Potter, making the man desperate to break the
bond between the boys in truth.
Additionally, if Potter was foolish enough to love the Malfoys as parents, the
loss could devastate him on top of whatever ill-effects breaking a soul bond
would cause him. For now, though, there was little choice. Severus did not have
the power to separate them, and Potter was relatively safe in Lucius's care.
Severus diced, chopped, and minced over two-dozen ingredients, adding them when
required and stirring in set patterns. The water took on a black hue that
brightened again into the blue-violet range. Steam and bubbles rose off the
potion's surface.
The only question left was what to do regarding Lucius's audacious demand. The
man had offered friendship if Severus complied, but he knew that was false.
Lucius could have no true friends when he'd always put himself and his family
first. Going along with the mad scheme, however, would convince Lucius that he
could control Severus, would relax his guard and build trust.
Dumbledore had ordered him to get closer to the Malfoys, but was Severus
willing to pay the cost? Despicable or not, Petunia and her son were Lily's
only remaining blood family. Frowning, Severus doubled the temperature of the
cauldron flames as he considered his next move. The potion was nearly done.
                                       …
Remus had sent Draco and Harry's luggage, so they were dressed in a clean pair
of jeans and t-shirts when they went down to breakfast the next morning.
Narcissa greeted them warmly, but Draco could see her eyeing their clothes. He
mentally sighed, knowing he'd likely be wearing something uncomfortable soon.
He envisioned being dressed up in something like what Lucius and Narcissa wore
and grimaced.
Lucius was dressed in an open dark-blue wizard's robe that molded to his broad
shoulders. White lace peeked out from the robe's sleeves from his long-sleeved
button-up, and a blue jewel sat at his throat, pinning his shirt closed. Plus
black slacks, socks, and shiny black ankle boots, the outfit seemed cumbersome.
As for Narcissa, her golden hair was folded into a multilayer bun that sat
loosely on the back of her head. Her dress was a pale purple that had an open
neck revealing her collarbones and almost falling off her shoulders. The
sleeves were long, flaring open at the wrist.
Draco had gone most of his life naked, wrapped only in blankets when he was
allowed to cover up at all. He didn't like anything that restricted his
movements, which was why he really liked the jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters that
made up his wardrobe.
“I have requested that a healer come today,” Lucius said, drawing Draco's
attention.
He gave him a cold look. “Why? Didn't tha' woman at Hogwarts give us a check-up
already?”
“I want to make sure nothing was missed,” Lucius returned easily, grey eyes
shadowed and unreadable.
“You've been gone for so many years. We just want to be sure you are well,”
Narcissa cut in, ever the peacemaker.
“Whatever,” Draco muttered, turning back to his food. He was too tired to argue
at the moment. If the healer tried anything funny, Draco would take care of it
then.
Glancing at Harry next to him, he smiled to see the boy with his tongue-tip
sticking out as he tried to hold the little fork just right. Draco's eyes
dropped to the black collar that sat snug against Harry's throat. So far the
Malfoys hadn't asked about it. That meant Remus's Notice-Me-Not spell was still
in effect. Draco knew it would wear off soon, and he eyed Narcissa
thoughtfully. She would be his biggest ally. Maybe he should get her on board
before it became an issue?
Breakfast took nearly an hour. Harry and Draco mostly listened as Narcissa and
Lucius talked about things like the weather and the interview Lucius wanted to
have regarding Draco's return. Apparently, the papers were already printing
speculation over the fact Lucius had canceled the notice of Draco's kidnapping
and reward for his return.
“I think Friday afternoon would be a good time to take the boys to the Ministry
and make the guardianship official. Andromeda can join us. Afterward, we can
meet a few of the press in the lobby to give a brief statement, and Andromeda
can take them for the weekend as agreed.”
“I'd like to throw a ball at the end of the month,” Narcissa added, avoiding
talking about the boys going to her sister's. “To celebrate Draco's return. It
will give the boys a chance to meet their peers, and a chance for their peers
to meet them.”
“That's a wonderful idea,” Lucius agreed, patting his lips daintily with a
napkin and smiling across at his wife. “I will contact Tonks this afternoon. ”
* I want to test them. Tell them you want to have a birthday party instead of
the ball, *Draco ordered, irritated that the adults were making decisions
without his input.
Harry blushed, but he immediately lifted his head and said, “I'm gonna turn
seven at the end of the month. Can we have a birthday party, please? Instead of
a ball?” He made his eyes big as he looked pleadingly at Narcissa.
Draco watched as she smiled back at Harry, as if she couldn't help it. He
smirked, proud of Harry's puppy-dog eyes. “Harry's birthday is the thirty-
first,” he added helpfully.
“Is that right?” she asked, looking pointedly down the table at her husband.
“Well, I don't see why it can't be both a celebration ball as well as a
birthday party.” Her attention returned to Draco and her smile became sharper.
“That means we have a lot of work to do to make sure you're ready for polite
society.”
Draco nodded, understanding that Harry would only get his party if they had
perfected their manners.
                                       …
Narcissa led the boys to the parlor while Lucius went to greet Iason Greengrass
in the receiving room. Pureblood and traditional, the Greengrass family was
famous for producing healers and artists, but Iason stood out even amongst his
family. He was extraordinarily gifted in the healing arts, which like Snape had
made him a rising star in his field. He'd earned the title of Master Healer at
twenty-one years of age, which was six years faster than the average.
Lucius had been one year ahead of Iason at Hogwarts and in a different House,
so it wasn't due to friendship that Iason had agreed to be their healer. His
healing gift also made him wealthy in his own right, so it wasn't the money.
Lucius suspected it had been Iason's wife who had insisted. Iason had two
daughters around Draco's age. Mrs. Greengrass was likely angling for a marriage
contract in the case of Draco's return.
Stepping out of the fireplace, Iason took Lucius's hand in a firm handshake.
“How is Narcissa?” He was tall and skinny with short golden blond hair and
brown eyes behind silver-framed glasses. He wore simple Healer-green robes,
having come from the hospital. Lucius had never seen him in anything else.
“She is well,” Lucius answered with a smile. “I have called you here regarding
another matter, but first I would have your word you will keep it between us.”
He held out his cane meaningfully.
“Of course.” Placing his hand on the snake-head of the cane, Iason intoned, “I
hereby swear on my magic to never reveal by word or deed the information I will
learn here today.”
The snake stuck, biting deeply into Iason's wrist. Lucius watched for evidence
of pain, but Iason remained stoic as he took his hand back and tended to his
bleeding wrist. A quick spell stopped the blood and then healed the bite into a
faint scar.
Smiling politely, Lucius turned, his blue robe flaring around his booted feet,
and led the way toward the sitting room. It wasn't far. Sweeping his arm out,
he gestured his guest in before him.
The sitting room was done in peach and cream with hints of ruby red in the
patterns of the wall, rug, and furniture. A fireplace stood against an interior
wall, the massive golden-brown frame and mantle matching that of the furniture
in the room. A large open window let in morning light as well as warm breezes
carrying the scent of summer. Narcissa had chosen hyacinths to fill the tall
crystal vases that stood on the elegant end tables. Matching blue-purple petals
were scattered delicately across the surface of the beautifully carved coffee
table.
The room held four peach-colored armchairs and two cream-colored couches. They
were arranged in a loose circle to ease conversation. It was a peaceful and
calming environment, which was why they had chosen the room for this meeting.
It was best to keep the boys as relaxed as possible.
Unfortunately, Lucius didn't think they had succeeded, at least not with Draco.
The boys sat side-by-side on one end of a couch, closest to Narcissa, who sat
in one of the armchairs facing the doorway. Eyes wide and unblinking, Draco
looked alert and watchful, taking in everyone in the room at once. Potter was
more relaxed, leaning into Draco's side and looking up at the healer curiously.
Narcissa looked beautiful in her lavender dress, her skin having regained some
color and her eyes a bright blue. She was still gaunt from the Blood ritual,
but despite her illness she looked as if she belonged in the room, surrounded
by beautiful things. The boys, in contrast, looked out of place in their basic
Muggle attire, and Lucius made a mental note to send for a seamstress.
Narcissa smiled politely at them as Iason straightened from his greeting bow.
With a graceful gesture of her hand, she indicated the children. “Healer
Greengrass, may I introduce you to our son, Draco, and our ward, Harry?”
Iason gave Nacrissa a genuine smile. “Congratulations on finding your son, Lady
Malfoy. I gather you'd like me to check his condition?”
“Yes,” Lucius answered as he moved to place himself next to Narcissa, a hand
resting on her shoulder. “The Madam at Hogwarts did a preliminary scan and
focused mostly on their magical cores, but we felt an exam by a more skilled
healer was in order.”
“Of course,” Iason murmured. “If the boys would separate to either ends of the
couch so that I can get clear readings, this shouldn't take more than a few
minutes.”
Draco squeezed Harry's hand and stood, leaving Harry next to Narcissa and
taking the further end of the couch for himself. Lucius watched with rapt
attention as Iason stood directly in front of the child and traced the air
above Draco's body, lips moving in a constant nonverbal mutter for several
minutes. Draco never once took his eyes off the man, but he didn't seem in
distress.
Eventually, Iason moved to Harry. Lucius noticed Draco go tense. It was as if
Draco's whole being was focused on the smaller boy. Lucius was not pleased, but
there was nothing to be done at the moment. Iason paused when he caught sight
of the famous lightning scar, but he continued on without comment. It was over
in less then ten minutes.
Iason swayed slightly, his forehead shiny as he began to sweat. Lucius moved to
support him, grabbing him by the upper arm, and shot Narcissa a meaningful
look.
Narcissa stood, her long skirt swishing. She held her hand out to Potter.
“Come, boys. Let's go riding.”
“No.” Draco stood and moved to the other end of the couch, retaking his seat in
the corner and pulling Harry to his side. He stared straight into Lucius's
eyes, his own having gone silver, in direct challenge. “I wanna know what he
has ta say.”
An awkward silence filled the room.
“I am well,” Iason spoke, distracting Lucius from his defiant son. The healer
pulled away and took a seat on the now empty end of the couch. “May I have a
glass of water?”
Narcissa slowly retook her seat and summoned Lottie. Soon they all had glasses
to sip. Lucius returned to Narcissa's side. He was not pleased by Draco's
insistence on being present. Iason's expression did not bode well, and Lucius
did not trust his or Narcissa's reaction to any bad news. He would prefer for
Draco not to witness any loss in composure.
“Thank you.” Iason set the glass on the coffee table and fidgeted with his
glasses. “The boys are in acceptable health, although they do show signs of
damage from long-standing malnutrition. Mr. Potter, especially. There are
potions that can help remedy this.”
Draco shrugged. “After the Scourers, the Asclepius gave us a monthly potion,
but he said it'd done as much as it was gonna, so we didn't need to keep takin'
it.”
“I believe the potions here might still have an effect,” Iason spoke to Lucius,
ignoring Draco. “I'd like to put the boys on a weekly potion and check them
again in a month to see if it had any benefits.”
“Are there side-effects?” Lucius asked.
“I would recommend the Vitalis Potion for both, but a slightly more
concentrated form for Mr. Potter. Hunger pangs and strange cravings are the
most common side-effects. More rare side-effects include vomiting, fever, and
sleepiness.”
“What's the point of the medicine?” Draco demanded with an icy stare. He
refused to be ignored. “We feel fine.”
Lucius shot the boy a hard look for being rude, but fortunately Iason did not
seem insulted and answered as matter-of-factly as he had the other questions.
He still spoke to Lucius, however.
“Their bodies underwent extreme stress and did not have the fuel needed. That
means nutrients were taken from other places. Their muscles and skeleton are
not as strong as they could be. That makes them more vulnerable to breaks and
tears. It has also impacted their future growth, as well as exasperated Mr.
Potter's astigmatism, making him near-sighted.”
Draco scoffed, face radiating doubt. “And your medicine will fix all that?”
Pride stung, Iason finally faced the child. “It will restore your muscles and
bones. It will also hopefully correct the stunted growth and stop any further
deterioration of Mr. Potter's eyes.”
“Thank you. We will consider it, of course,” Lucius spoke, interrupting the
standoff. He shot Draco a hard look when the boy went to speak. Wonder of
wonders, the child closed his mouth. Lucius returned his attention to Iason.
“What else did the examination reveal?”
Iason actually shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was the first time Lucius
has seen the man as anything other than stoic, and his heart began to beat
faster. Narcissa lifted her hand to rest on top of the one he'd placed on her
shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line as she braced herself.
Draco gave the healer a sharp and disturbing smile, slinging one arm over
Potter's shoulders. “Oh, go ahead. Do tell.”
Potter looked completely unconcerned about the tension in the room. His green
eyes watched the nervous healer with an expression of curiosity.
Iason cleared his throat and purposefully turned his full attention to Lucius
and away from the children. “Both boys have old scarring. As you know, magic
heals fresh wounds best, so there is not much I can do. The scarring is as
faded as it's likely to get. Topical cream can be used to hide them, but it
will have to be reapplied regularly.”
“What kind of scarring?” Narcissa asked with false calm. Her fingers had gone
white, she was clasping Lucius's hand so tightly.
Iason straightened his shoulders and adopted a very factual tone. “They both
have rectal scarring that indicates sexual abuse. In this case, Mr. Malfoy
showed the greater damage. The scars are layered indicating long-term and
repeated rape. Fortunately, the injuries have healed without leaving permanent
damage. Mr. Malfoy also possesses significant scarring on his torso, back, and
thighs that indicates extreme, long-term torture with various instruments. The
most recent is the burn scar that spans his sternum and upper chest. There is
evidence of the wound being healed magically. It was done with more power than
precision, but it was effective in preventing permanent damage to the
pectoralis major muscle, which would have limited his range of motion.”
Lucius felt like a burning block of ice as he listened to the brutal
recitation. Narcissa trembled beneath his hand. Both of them kept their faces
frozen and their eyes on the healer, afraid a glance at the children would
break their control.
“There is one other thing.” Iason's professional tone fractured to reveal
confusion. “Mr. Potter possesses fresh occlusive bite marks on his hips.
Fortunately, there is no infection in the wounds, but I must stress that human
bites have a higher chance of becoming infected and can lead to illness.
Furthermore, there are older scars that match in various stages of healing on
his thighs, wrists, and neck. Considering the width of the impressions, Mr.
Malfoy is the likely source. ”
All eyes turned to the boys. Potter looked confused while Draco's expression
was perfectly bored. If Potter was being abused by Draco, their behavior
certainly didn't match. Potter was too comfortable with Draco and clearly
adored him.
Then again, Draco did not act like someone as horrifically tortured as Iason
was reporting, either. Potter, on the other hand, did act like someone who had
been abused, even if he didn't act like Draco was the one who abused him. He
was timid, afraid of making mistakes, obedient, and desperate to please. It
would make more sense if it were Potter's body that evidenced torture, not the
confident, unbreakable Draco.
“And their magical cores?” Narcissa asked, voice wavering. She did not want to
discuss Draco's possible abusive behaviors in front of the healer.
Iason fiddled with his glasses, the tension running out of his frame now that
his news had been delivered. “I am not an expert in cores, but my spells only
pick up a single magical signature from the boys. I have seen the same in
twins. It is possible that due to their extreme experiences, their magic formed
a rare twin bond. Regardless, their cores are advanced for children their age.
Again, this is likely due to the hostile environment they faced. If you want to
know more about their magical cores or the composition of the bond between
them, I can recommend an expert in that field.”
“Thank you, Iason.” Lucius forced himself to smile and move forward. “I
appreciate your time.”
Iason bowed to Narcissa and took his leave, Lucius escorting him back to the
receiving room.
                                       …
Draco's fingers stroked along the outside of Harry's arm as he watched
Narcissa. The woman sat stiffly, her hands alternating between clenched fists
and clasped together. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy. He sighed and
continued to subtly pet Harry.
His boy was - worried. Draco knew Harry wasn't embarrassed about having the
healer tell the Malfoys about their past. In Harry's mind there was nothing
wrong with a world where people hurt him. He wouldn't even think to suspect
that other people would hear that story and think it was disturbing in any way.
It was right and normal. No, Harry was worried about the bite marks. Liam had
barely tolerated that aspect of their relationship. It wasn't likely that the
Malfoys would react any better.
Eventually, Lucius returned. He'd probably used magic to swear the healer to
secrecy. God knew Lucius wouldn’t want it known that his son was fucked up,
quite literally. Hell, if magic could erase memories, Lucius had probably done
that, too. Draco refused to be ashamed, though. He lifted his chin and stared
defiantly up at the man.
Not that Lucius noticed. The man stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment
before coming to sit on the other end of the couch. Draco didn't like that. It
put Harry between them.
“Dobby,” he called, voice gone cold.
The elf appeared instantly. “Yes, young master sir!”
“Take Harry outside to see Caelius,” he ordered, never once looking away from
Lucius. “Don't go outta sight of the house. I'll catch up in a minute.”
Harry obediently slipped from the couch, but – anxiety– burned through the
bond.
Draco caught his hand and squeezed. He kept his mental voice light and teasing.
* Everything is fine. I just gotta talk to them about a few things, and I want
them ta take me serious. Go have fun. *
Harry nodded, green eyes full of trust. “Yes, Draco.”
Dobby smiled and took Harry's hand. “Come, Master Harry sir,” he said and
happily led him from the room.
Draco turned his attention to the adults and waited. When they still said
nothing, he arched his brow. “Are we done with this yet, or are ya gonna wanna
know what happened to me?”
Narcissa stood and came to sit on the couch next to Lucius. It allowed Draco to
sit with his back to the couch arm and see them both easily, so he was
grateful. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her voice was steady when she
answered, “Whatever you feel comfortable sharing, we will listen.”
Lucius nodded, expression stony.
Draco sighed and reached both hands up to hook his long bangs behind his ears.
He met them stare for stare. “I don't remember much from when I was really
little. It was a nice place, though. Good food and nice ladies. There were
other kids around. I was always doin' stuff, but then there was a fire. I
must'a been four. Someone came up to help me and I went with 'em, but he was
really just a bastard who wanted ta play with me.”
Narcissa bit her lip but didn't make a sound. Lucius wrapped his arms around
her.
“I knew right away it was bad,” Draco continued. “I promised myself I'd escape,
but he kept me in a closet. He was always in the way of the door, so I couldn't
get out. He'd make me touch 'em or I wouldn't eat. I was there for a long time,
I think. Then he brought a friend over. Took me outta the closet and put me on
a bed. Fucked me. But I got away. I was hurt, though, so he caught up ta me.
Sold me to this other place.”
“Draco...” Narcissa whispered, horrified. Tears spilled down her face. Lucius
couldn't even look at him, staring at the wall instead.
Draco glared at them both. That shit didn't make him broken or weak. He didn't
know why people kept thinking it did. They should be wary because it meant he
was capable of brutal things in order to survive. “You wanna hear more or is
that enough for ya?”
“I'm sorry,” Narcissa whispered and wiped at her face. “Please continue. I want
to know.”
Draco shifted against the couch, still glaring angrily. “Well, I was chained
and put on a table so people could see me. After that, I was taken to this
boat. It was called the Hold. This guy Raymond from the mafia ran it, and I
became his toy. I'd take care of the other kids he was sellin. He never fucked
me, but sometimes he'd put other stuff in me. Like candles and plastic dicks.
He did it to mess with my head. He mostly liked ta beat me up and whip me, make
me hurt. It was real fun for him. Got 'em off.”
Narcissa covered her face and Lucius held her to his chest. He looked like he
was ready to kill someone. Draco smirked; been there, done that.
“Well, I was there longest than anywhere else. More than a year. Then I met
Harry.”
Draco's face softened, a light entering his dark eyes, making him look more
human. It was then that Lucius and Narcissa truly realized just what the bond
meant to their son.
“He was brought to the Hold and put in the catalogue. I was just suppose'ta
take care of 'em like the others, but he was different. We took care of each
other, but Raymond wasn't about ta let me keep 'em. So I worked out a plan and
killed the bastard. I killed 'em, took Harry, and ran.”
Draco paused his story to grab his glass of water. Narcissa took the time to
gather her strength; Lucius closed his eyes for a moment, calming his rage.
“It was winter, and we were naked, so we almost didn't make it, but this guy
took us in. Didn't want to fuck us or anything. Just let us stay. We kept the
place clean and Harry cooked. It was real nice, but then Remus found us. You
heard the rest from Dumbledore.” Draco met each of their eyes, grim and
unhappy. “If I had a choice, I'da stayed there. We were finally happy, ya know?
And safe. But we found out the hard way there are Scourers who're out ta kill
magic kids. Trust me, that wasn't fun. It's where I got the burn on my chest.
They boiled oil and poured it on me, hoping the 'demon' would come loose.”
“Merlin...” Lucius whispered, horrified. Narcissa was breathing in quick little
gasps as if she were trying not to be sick.
“Whatever.” Draco gave them a shrug. “Like I said, that's all done. We're here
now.” His eyes sharpened and he focused on Lucius. “I told ya what you wanted,
now I wanna know some things.”
Lucius braced himself; Narcissa clutched his forearm tightly. He could feel her
practically vibrating with tension.
“I heard from Remus about Harry and his scar. I know there're still people
pretty mad at 'em for everything that happened.” Draco's expression grew
fierce. “Are you one of 'em? And don't even think about fucking lying to me.”
Narcissa looked wrecked, but she was the first to answer him. “We supported the
Dark Lord because he promised to preserve our traditions, our culture. However,
we were not aware of the extremes he would go.”
“I broke off from the Dark Lord months before Potter destroyed him.” Lucius
added, meeting Draco's eyes. “I give you my word that no one in this house
holds a grudge against Potter. As my ward, I will protect him from anyone who
does.”
“Good.” Draco slipped to his feet and stretched his arms over his head. As he
walked out, he casually said over his shoulder, “Cause I'm not gonna let anyone
hurt Harry.” He stopped in the doorway just before leaving the room. He made
sure to meet Lucius's eyes so that the man could see the truth in them. “If
anyone tries... I'll kill 'em.” And he slipped into the hallway and was gone.
Chapter end.
Thank you so much for the support! I look forward to hearing how you like this
chapter. 
 
***** Aftermath *****
                                   Aftermath
“My son,” Narcissa moaned. “No. Not my son.” Collapsing against Lucius's chest,
her hands almost tore his robes, she clutched him so hard. Her slender
shoulders trembled with every sob. Her head bowed, the back of her neck looked
vulnerable, her posture defeated.
Lucius sat numb. He felt far away... from his wife... from the room. Against
his will he pictured his small son bent over, naked... Pictured someone shoving
something into his body hard enough to make him bleed... to make him scream.
The weird numbness shattered, and he jumped to his feet, tearing away from
Narcissa. Sobbing, she fell back against the couch, looking up at him with a
wrecked expression.
With a furious roar, Lucius felt his magic explode from his skin. The
furnishings in front of him slammed against the wall, bent and cracked. The
wallpaper scorched and curled, smoke filling the air. Roaring, fire burst into
life. Lucius clenched his fists and poured all his rage out.
Soft, trembling hands grabbed his arm and shook him. He turned to see Narcissa
staring up at him with a rage just as terrible as his own. “Stop it! Lucius!
Stop!”
Bearing down on the crack in his soul, he folded, and tucked, and hid away the
mind-shattering grief and rage. Slowly he pulled his magic back into his core.
It took everything he had, and he fell to his knees, feeling sick. His hair
fell from it's tie, falling over his shoulders and curtaining his face.
Narcissa sank to the floor next to him, her lavender skirt pooling around her.
Running her fingers through his long hair, she pulled his head to her shoulder.
“I'll kill them,” he vowed, voice terrible to hear.
“Lucius.” The tone in her voice was strange, and he looked up curiously. She
stared back at him, her blue eyes cold and unbending as steel even as tears
continued to streak her face. “Lucius. We can't focus on revenge.”
Snarling, he pulled away from her, but she held on, her nails drawing blood
along his forearms even through his sleeves.
“No. Listen to me,” she hissed. “We can't focus on revenge. We have to focus on
healing our son. We must focus on the future.”
Lucius sat there, almost panting. He wanted to scream and shove her away. Years
of fear, rage, and loss boiled through his soul that would Not Be DENIED
“Lucius, we've already lost him. If we stay focused on the past, Draco will
leave us behind,” she snapped, desperate. “He's facing forward. Our son is
moving forward. We must move with him!”
While he sat there, frozen, Narcissa rose to her feet and looked coldly down at
him. “Very well. I'm going to go find my son. I hope you can come to your
senses and see that your son needs you now, not focused on the past where you
can change nothing.”
Lucius glared as she swept from the room, leaving him on the floor amid
wreckage and still smoldering walls. Staggering to his feet, he lifted his
wand. “Confringo!” he snarled. A cracked and bent chair exploded with a
deafening bang. Thrilling at the destruction, he set himself to destroy
everything in the room.
“Confringo!” A couch exploded. “Confringo!” The mantle of the fireplace erupted
with flames, which caught on the debris in the room, spreading fast. Lucius
grinned viciously. “Confringo!” Just when he was about to be overwhelmed, his
face drawing taut from the heat, lungs spasming, he whipped his wand forward
and snarled, “Extinguo! Ventus!”
Immediately, the fire winked out and a breeze of cold, pure air blew the smoke
from the room. He stood, breathing hard. The room was black and empty, the
ground covered in scattered ash. The smell was terrible. Soot stained his
clothes, his hair was a snarled mess, and sweat dripped down the side of his
face and off his chin.
Pushing his hair out of his face, he tied it back and called, “Lottie.”
“Y-yes, M-master?” it squeaked, appearing.
“Clean this up,” he ordered, voice icy.
“Y-yes, M-master!”
Lucius turned and left the room, twisting the wards with a thought to close it
to others until he had it restored.
                                       …
Narcissa was still mentally and emotionally reeling, but when she crested the
hill and saw the boys sleeping so peacefully in the shade of an oak tree on the
edge of the forest, everything melted away to be replaced by a love so fierce
it almost took her breath away.
“Lottie,” she called in a bare whisper. The little elf appeared instantly, and
Narcissa spoke quickly before it could wake the children. “My camera. Quietly.”
The elf obeyed and Narcissa took a few photographs, handing the camera back to
Lottie when she was finished. “My book, Lottie.”
“Yes, Master.” Lottie disappeared, taking the camera with her. She returned
again with a thin book of poetry.
Narcissa settled on the grass to wait for the boys to wake. Her back straight,
her skirt folded around her, she opened the book in her lap. The words were a
blur to her. Her eyes turned to the small, vulnerable form of her son asleep in
the grass.
Deliberately, she reached up and began to unbind her hair. It was a gesture of
trust and intimacy. Only those closest to her would be allowed to see her with
her hair unbound. It spilled free in a thick golden curtain that pooled around
her hips as she tilted her head back to feel the warm summer sun on her skin.
The grass rustled in the wind, whispering, and the sky soared blue above her
head. True calm descended over her heart as she kept herself in that moment,
allowing no other thoughts or feelings. Just sun, wind, and the soft breathing
of the children nearby, safe and under her protection.
Nearly an hour later, Draco woke. He noticed her a second after sitting up, and
his expression became guarded. Harry, sleepily rubbing his eyes underneath his
glasses, sat up next to him.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, voice neutral, trying not to treat them
differently now that she knew. “You missed lunch, but I'm sure Lottie has
something for us to snack on.”
Draco shrugged. “Sure.” He eyed her suspiciously. She looked different with her
long hair falling free, strands floating on a passing breeze. He could feel
Harry's – awe – and had to admit the woman was remarkably beautiful, but he
didn't trust the timing of this little display. What did she want from them?
Lottie brought them sandwiches and milk, and they ate without talking. Once
they finished, Narcissa stood and brushed off her skirt. Her long hair
shimmered gold, and she had to hold it off her face with a hand as a strong
gust blew it sideways. “Are you ready to continue your lessons?”
Harry smiled up at her. “Yes, Lady Narcissa,” he answered, taking Draco's hand.
“Mother,” Narcissa corrected softly, meeting Harry's eyes with a gentle
expression. “I'd like you to call me mother. Or, if you cannot, just Narcissa
will do.”
Harry immediately turned to look at Draco, eyes wide – uncertainty surprise
–loudly clanging through the bond.
Draco tilted his head, calculating. She waited, patient and undemanding.
Finally, he asked Harry, * Do you want to call her mother? *
Harry's eyes went impossibly wider– confusion fear.
Draco wasn't sure why Harry was afraid, but he had the answer he needed.
Turning to face her, he lifted his chin and said, “Yeah. We're ready,
Narcissa.”
She accepted his choice with a bow of her head and turned to lead them back to
the house.
Draco and Harry trailed behind her. Draco made sure there was enough space
between them that she couldn't hear their whispers. He looked at Harry
curiously. “Why were ya scared?”
Harry bit his lip, and Draco could feel the effort Harry used to put his
feelings into words. “I... I wanna be yours...”
Draco considered that for a minute before pulling Harry in toward his side.
“You are mine. It don't matter if you got a mom, a dad... You could have a
hundred people and you'll still be mine first and last.”
Harry blinked up at him,– happy –a beautiful smile lighting up his face.
Draco quickly kissed those sweet lips, feeling a fierce love for the boy who
adored him so.
                                       …
The next morning Dobby woke them half-an-hour earlier than normal. Squeaking
with excitement, the elf told them to dress quickly and come to the sunroom.
Besides the nap they had yesterday under the tree, they hadn't slept well since
coming to the manor, so Draco was extremely annoyed to be up at five.
“What's goin' on?” he growled, pulling on a t-shirt.
“Master brought someone to be making yous clothes, sir!” Dobby cried. His ears
flapped as he literally hopped from one foot to the other.
Draco groaned but obediently made his way to the sunroom with Harry.
During the day, the room deserved it's name. Right now, the huge windows and
sunroof were black with night, dozens of stars twinkling above them, with not a
hint of dawn in the sky. The two child-sized work desks had been pushed to the
side, as well as the chalkboard, the tables with miscellaneous things for their
lessons, and Narcissa's padded rocking chair.
Narcissa saw them in the doorway and gestured them further into the room.
Looking at her, you'd never know it was painfully early. Her blue eyes were
bright and her expression was animated. She wore a pristine white dress with
her hair up in her usual braided bun.
“Thank you again for coming so early. I know you have your shop to open,” she
said to the plump older woman standing with her in the room.
Draco eyed the woman. She was fat with grey hair done in a messy braid. Several
frizzy fly-aways fell around her face. Her wizard's robes were mauve with
interesting folds and flares, and her lips were painted a dark pink. Something
was moving inside the large black bag she clutched in her hands. It jerked and
shook every few moments, and Draco kept his eyes on it warily.
“They are whom you will be measuring,” Narcissa continued. She gestured for the
boys to come even closer. “This is Madam Malkin. She is a seamstress. Please
strip to your smalls and step on the stools; she will be taking your sizes. She
also brought a catalogue for you to pick out a few styles that you'd prefer. ”
“My word!” Malkin stared at Draco in wonder. “The rumors are true then.” She
looked to Narcissa with an enormous smile. “I'm so happy for you, Lady Malfoy.”
“Thank you, Madam.” Narcissa lowered her head in a graceful nod and asked with
an arched eyebrow, “I trust you will keep it our little secret?”
“Of course! Of course!” Malkin turned back to them. “Hello, boys! Don't be shy.
I'm not the least bit scary,” she said with a laugh, her round cheeks flushed
and her eyes sparkling happily.
Through long white bangs, he looked back and forth between the two women
suspiciously. Draco hesitated a moment longer but asked, “What do'ya mean by
smalls?”
“Your shirt and underwear,” Narcissa clarified.
“We don't wear underwear,” Draco informed her, eyes narrowed in challenge.
Narcissa went pink in the cheeks, but Malkin looked like she was trying not to
laugh.
Clearing her throat, the older woman said kindly, “Just take off your shoes and
socks. I know how to work around jeans and t-shirts. Get more Muggleborns and
Halfbloods every year.”
Draco kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, knowing Harry was
mirroring him. They stepped up on the stools, and Malkin dropped her bag,
flipping it open. Immediately yellow tape measures flew out and dashed round
the room. Draco jumped, startled, and glared dangerously at the flying objects.
“Don't mind them, dears,” Malkin said with a warm smile. “They hate to be
locked up.” She pulled her wand and waved it in the air. “Come now. We got work
to do!”
Draco watched curiously as the tape measure zipped over. It took his head and
neck size, wingspan, and a whole bunch of other measurements until his whole
body had been mapped out. “Why do ya need ta know the length of my tongue?” he
asked, twisting to watch as the tape flew to measure the length between his
heel and his knee.
Malkin laughed and patted his shoulder. “You never know, dear. Better safe than
sorry. Art is a bit mad, don't you think?”
“She's the best in London,” Narcissa added to reassure him, as if he cared
about that. If he had a choice, he'd stick with his own clothes.
- FEAR -
Draco whipped his head around to see Harry clutching his collar, preventing the
tape measure from undoing the buckle. Furious, Draco lashed his hand forward
and caught the thrashing end of the tape, yanking it away from Harry. It
flailed about his head, and Draco flung it to the floor and jumped on it,
pinning it mostly flat.
Malkin made a startled noise. “By Merlin!”
Glaring through his bangs, he met her wide-eyed stare. “Harry's collar stays
on.”
“Oh dear! Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even see it.” Malkin flicked her wand and the
tape measure went still under his bare feet.
Draco released it, and it slithered quickly back into the woman's bag.
Narcissa's expression looked perfectly blank, as if she'd been turned to stone.
Red-cheeked, this time from embarrassment, Malkin said carefully, “But I do
need the measurement of his throat without the necklace. It's too thick to get
an accurate measure.”
“Take it with the necklace on,” Draco ordered, purposefully choosing to use her
word for it. If they thought it was simple Muggle jewelry, then all the better.
“Harry never takes it off. It's important to him, so his clothes will have to
fit over it.”
Harry was still clutching the collar in both hands, his eyes wide.
Narcissa finally snapped out of it, saying, “I'm sure that won't be a problem.”
She gave the older witch a firm look. “Will it, Madam?”
“No. No, it's fine.” Malkin quickly set about getting the last of their
measurements and packed up her bag.
Draco grabbed Harry's hand. He was ready to have this done and over.
Harry stepped down, one hand still protectively at his throat, but he managed a
wobbly smile and a sweet, “Thank you, Madam Malkin.”
Malkin smiled down at him, but then froze. Harry's bangs had slipped aside as
he tiled his head back to meet her eyes. “My word... That's not... It can't
be... Is it?” she spluttered. She looked over at Narcissa, worried.
Draco pulled Harry from the room. He'd let Narcissa deal with it.
Taking Harry down the hall and into the nearby library, Draco shut the door and
pressed the smaller boy up against it. Harry stared at him, green eyes deep and
mesmerizing. Pushing the boy's hand aside, he covered the collar with his own,
putting enough pressure that the boy would feel it. Harry moaned, opening his
mouth to Draco's kiss.
Draco licked and sucked hungrily into Harry's mouth, their small lips sliding
against each other, quickly becoming wet and swollen. Tongues brushing and
twirling together, Draco applied more pressure to the boy's throat until Harry
was wheezing through his soft moans.
- pleasure submission love -
Just when Harry's knees went weak, vision going dark from lack of oxygen, Draco
let him go. Lips swollen and red, Harry sank to the floor, his back sliding
along the door with a soft hissing sound. He stared up at Draco, dazed.
Draco crouched before him and ran his hand through the boy's messy hair. He
nipped at Harry's lips and gently stroked the collar. * Mine. *
“Yours,” Harry echoed, breathless. A gorgeous – love joy peace– unfurled in
both of their chests.
Draco gave him a sweet smile, the smile that only Harry saw, and stood.
Reaching down his hand, he said, “Come on. We gotta wash our faces before
breakfast.”
Harry took his hand, feeling wanted, claimed, and safe.
                                       …
Narcissa stood silent as Lucius unbuttoned her dress. Usually she would cast a
simple spell to help her undress, but her magic was still recovering and it was
best if she used it as little as possible. They were in their bedroom, a few
candles casting the only light in the room. It was late, the boys tucked into
bed.
Her dress slipped down her body and she stepped free, wearing only a sheer
underskirt and panties. Undoing the clasp of the skirt, Lucius silently took it
from her. Narcissa turned from him, slipped from her underwear, and pulled on
the soft gown she slept in. Still mute, she pulled the covers down and sat,
hands working to undo her hair.
Lucius wandered around the room, undressing and preparing for bed. Narcissa
watched him, wondering how he would react to her news. A few minutes later, he
slipped between the covers in only a pair of light sleep pants. He sat with his
back to the headboard and turned to face her. Narcissa, her hair unbound and
falling down her back and around her shoulders, took his hand in hers. She
hesitated.
“Tell me,” he asked, barely above a whisper.
Narcissa looked down at their linked fingers, away from those intense grey
eyes. “There was an incident today.” She took a slow breath before confessing,
“During the fitting, it was discovered Harry wears a collar.”
Lucius sucked in a breath, his fingers tightening around hers.
“He was very protective of it... Became quite distressed when Malkin's spell
almost removed it,” she continued. “Draco reacted quite strongly... He made it
clear the collar was to stay on.” She looked up to see that her husband's face
had gone blank. “And the bites, Lucius. The way Draco protects him so
fiercely... You know what this means.”
“Dominus et delicatus.” Lucius threw the covers off and strode to the window.
He braced one hand against the frame, his back to her.
Narcissa sat, troubled. The Dominus et delicatus relationship was an old
practice that dated all the way back to the second century BC during the Roman
era. Those who were called to such a life were revered and respected. For some
reason that type of bond heightened the magical power in both, and they were
usually very exceptional individuals.
The strongest heroes and kings were all Dominus. For example, those powerful
wizards who were turned into gods by legend - Zeus, Poseidon, Apollo, Orpheus,
Achilles, Hercules, Dionysus, Hermes, and Pan – all had one or more deliciae
whose names have been lost to history.
Then there were the rulers: Emperor Nero with two deliciae - Pythagoras, a
genius mathematician, and Sporus, a nearly inhuman beauty. Emperor Julius
Ceaser with his deliciae King Nicomedes the IV, who gave his country Bithynia
to Ceaser, and Mark Anthony, a gifted soldier. Other Dominus included Emperor
Elagabalus and Conquerer Alexander.
Even King Arthur and his two deliciae, Merlin and Lancelot, both of whom worked
tirelessly and sacrificed for Arthur's glory. Christian historians had done
their best to remove that aspect of Arthur's relationship with the other men
from memory, often trying to portray Merlin as elderly to a boy Arthur when the
truth was Merlin was Arthur's peer.
By the time the separation of Muggle and magical happened, it was almost too
late. Christian culture had deemed the Dominus et delicatus bond as evil. The
magical community had grown so small, it became imperative for magical kind to
reproduce, so the social stigma of the Dominus bond as well as homosexual
relationships remained.
Narcissa knew there were homosexual wizards still today, but they kept those
relationships secret. Of course any man who never wed was suspect, including
Dumbledore. The Domius et delicatus bond would be even harder to hide, but if
there were any Dominus et delicatus couples, she had no idea.
“I confess I am relieved Draco is the Dominus and not the delicatus,” Lucius's
voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Considering his past.”
Narcissa frowned at the back of his head. “The delicatus was not seen as weak
or lacking, Lucius, but was the source of much inspiration and support. The
Dominus revered their delicatus and would not tolerate disrespect toward them.”
Lucius turned to face her, his eyes fierce. “Those stories are ancient and
irrelevant. We have no way of knowing how much of that is even true. What we do
know is that two men together, especially the one who is penetrated, is no
better than a slave, and I, for one, am glad it will not be our son who will be
servile and pliant under a domineering man!”
Cold, Narcissa felt cold and numb, shock spreading through her at Lucius's
vicious words.
“And don't forget the laws in your precious histories. The delicatus is to be
seen as a child under the guardianship of their Dominus for the entirety of
their lives. They can't own property, vote, or marry; they can't father
children. All of that falls under the power of the Dominus. Would you really
want that for our son?”
“It wasn't that one sided, Lucius,” she protested. “Dominus are fully
responsible for any consequences regarding the actions of their delicatus.
Including crimes committed. A delicatus can never be jailed or punished by any
authority other than their Dominus, forever under their protection.
Furthermore, neither can be punished for any action they take to protect each
other or their bond.”
“If the old laws are respected,” Lucius snarled. He stormed over and grabbed
her painfully by the shoulders. “Which as you know, the Light and Muggle
influences make very doubtful, Narcissa. Today, they will be merely seen as
depraved!”
Narcissa glared up at him, her numbness shattering. “A Dominus paired with a
delicatus is powerful, Lucius. Powerful enough to change the world. If Draco is
a true Dominus and not just acting out what he learned as a sex slave,” she
hissed, furious that Lucius would even think the word depraved in reference to
their son after all he'd been through, “then reviving ancient laws will be the
mere beginning of what Draco will accomplish!”
Lucius sneered in disgust and stalked back to the window. “Draco is only seven.
Society won't give him time to become the powerful wizard you foresee. Not when
they learn he has collared precious Harry Potter, last of the Potter line, and
Hero of the Wizarding World. They will turn on him and destroy him.”
Narcissa felt her rage subside as she watched Lucius brace his hands against
the window frame and press his forehead to the glass. Standing, she went to him
and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her cheek against his
broad back. “Then we will have to protect him until then.”
“Perhaps they will grow out of it,” Lucius muttered dully.
“Perhaps,” Narcissa allowed.
Chapter end.
A/N:I hope I did well with Narcissa's and Lucius's reactions. I agonized over
the last section. Too much historical reference do you think?
 
***** Lessons *****
                                    Lessons
Over the course of the next five days, the boys worked on their lessons from
before dawn until after dark. Narcissa requested that they wear their new
clothes, but Draco insisted on jeans and a t-shirt unless they were riding,
fencing, or dancing.
Harry, however, chose to wear the day uniform, hoping to appease any anger the
Malfoys felt over Draco's rebellion. Every morning he would put on the shiny
black shoes, white socks, black shorts, blue vest, white button-up shirt, and
thin neck tie. It was easy to ignore how uncomfortable it was when Draco told
him how “cute” he looked.
                                       …
Early morning, just after breakfast:
Harry absolutely dreaded the riding lessons they took daily with Lucius. He'd
much rather watch the horses run free and maybe pet them once in a while.
Riding was way more complicated than simply sitting on Caelius and directing
the horse left or right.
They also had to train the young stallions. Training involved standing with
lead reins buckled around the horse's nose and holding a long whip. They were
required to teach the horses how to leap short jumps, prance at one tongue
click, run on two tongue clicks, and other such commands.
Caelius was very docile compared to Agrippa, but he shied away from trying new
things. Once Caelius completed a trick once, he was okay, but Harry had to
force him that first time. Harry hated it; his nerves jangled painfully every
time he was forced to crack the whip. Hated how Caelius skittered away from the
sound and bite of the leather. Hated the way Draco's face went blank, even as
he perfectly controlled the more rebellious Agrippa.
Lucius refused to help. Not out of any sense of meanness, but because he
insisted Harry needed to do this himself. But when Harry froze and couldn't
bring himself to lift the whip, Draco would come over and help him. He wasn't
angry and would always stroke Harry's shoulder soothingly, but Lucius would
make comments about independence and hindering Harry's growth. Draco would
glare at him and tensions would flare between the two blonds. Harry felt
wracked with guilt over causing Draco trouble and tried his best to get Caelius
through the training on his own.
The last hour of actually riding Caelius instead of training him wasn't any
better. Harry thought the animals were beautiful, but riding them was bouncy
and awkward. Lucius was constantly telling them to turn or prance or gallop in
order to put the horses through their paces.
Caelius followed in Agrippa's footsteps mostly on his own, but Harry still had
to give commands and was terrified he'd mess it up, hurt Caelius, or, worse,
get Draco in trouble. It was exhausting and stressful. After the lessons,
Lucius's cold eyes would tell him how pathetic he was, and Harry would lower
his head in shame, knowing he was an absolute failure.
Draco felt drawn tight as a spring. Harry's misery burned through him like
acid. Laila had prepared him for Harry finding some things difficult and to
wait it out to see if he would come around, but Draco didn't think they could
take much more of this.
It was only the third day of riding lessons; he knew Laila would want him to
give it more time, but Harry's hair was damp with sweat, his skin was pale, his
fingers shook, and Draco could feel the throbbing– anxiety distress guilt fear
self-disgust –like a double heartbeat slamming against his chest.
On the fourth morning, they walked, stiff and silent with hands clasped, out to
the pen where Lucius had summoned the stallions. Lucius waited, his hair pulled
tightly back at the nape of his neck, in tight riding pants, boots, and a white
shirt. A crop hung casually from his hand, and his face showed no emotion as
they approached.
It was a beautiful day. The sun just sitting over the horizon, a blue sky
dotted with white fluffy clouds, short green grass whispering with every step
they took, and the lake glistening to the right, yet the closer they came, the
more Harry shook, the louder the despair and agony.
Draco felt everything inside him harden. His magic began to uncoil even though
he hadn't called it. He clenched his left hand, trying to keep it in check, as
the pen door swung open with a swish of Lucius's wand. Lucius strode over,
scooping up the long whips they were to use.
On the far side of the pen, Caelius and Agrippa snorted and pranced in
agitation. Draco opened his mouth to stop this, having decided it wasn't worth
it, but Lucius was already putting the whip in Harry's hand. Green eyes glazed,
Harry crumpled into a ball, sobbing.
Feet braced, hands clenched and glaring up at Lucius, Draco stated, voice cold
as ice, “We're done.” He reached out to grab a handful of Harry's hair. The
sobbing cut off instantly, turning into nearly incoherent apologies.
Lucius glared back, fingers turning white around his wand. “If he doesn't learn
how to be firm, Draco, society will eat him up. I'm not trying to hurt the boy.
I'm trying to prepare him.”
Draco released Harry and took a threatening step forward, magic and rage
spiraling through his blood. He stood toe-to-toe with Lucius, half the man's
height with eyes gone silver. When he spoke, he didn't yell or rage. He was icy
calm, resolute. “Don't tell me what Harry needs, Lucius. Harry's mine, and I
say he's done.”
“You do him no favors by pampering him!” Lucius screamed, furious. With a
violent gesture, he lifted the whip and lashed it down on his own arm, inches
from Draco's face. The loud crack made Caelius whinny, nervous and upset, and
Agrippa race in zigzags around the pen. Draco didn't even flinch. “It doesn't
even hurt them!”
“I said...” Lifting his thumb to his mouth, Draco bit down, his magic helping
his teeth pierce through the skin like butter. “We're done.” He reached forward
and slid his thumb down the whip in a slow, sensual drag, stopping just shy of
Lucius's hand where he gripped the handle.
Instantly the tanned leather began to smoke and disintegrate. Lucius hissed in
surprise and flung the whip away. His chest rose and fell in rapid pants as he
stared, wild-eyed down at Draco. The boy stood in front of the still curled up
Potter. His eyes were crystal clear; his almost shoulder-length hair framing a
fierce expression, a smear of bright red staining his bottom lip. Blood dripped
steadily from Draco's hand. He looked savage.
Furious, panicked, Lucius hissed in disgust and cast the spell to open the
fence, freeing the stallions. “You'll regret this, Draco,” he hissed, and with
a last hard glare, he stormed past his son.
Draco watched him go, unblinking. Once the man was out of sight, he reached
down with his bleeding hand and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair, pulling the
sobbing boy to his feet.
Harry ducked his head, a whine building in his throat, and ignored the way it
made the grip on his hair even more painful - distress self-hate guilt.
Draco released him and led him toward the woods.
Harry's heart pounded, knowing Draco was taking them out of sight, so that no
one would be able to see them. The walk seemed to take and eternity and yet
only a few seconds at the same time. The heat of the sun baked his shoulders
and back; sweat slid down his back and down his face. Draco's hand held his
firmly, and Harry clung to that grip, desperately grateful that Draco wasn't
let him go, wasn't sick of him and throwing him away.
“Sorry, Draco. I'm sorry. I'm so stupid. I'll do better, promise. Sorry, I'm
sorry,” he muttered pathetically.
The shadow of the trees fell over them and Harry gasped, knowing the time for
redemption had arrived. Draco dropped Harry's hand and walked a few steps
forward. Turning, he leaned back against the trunk of an oak tree. A sudden
breeze made the shadows dance and the leaves above them whisper loudly. Tears
rolling down his face, Harry stared at Draco with his heart thumping madly.
Grey eyes calmly watched him. “Narcissa's going to give you lessons while I do
riding,” Draco told him, quiet yet firm. “You're gonna do amazing at them.
Aren't you?”
“Yes, Draco!” Harry swore urgently, hands out in a pleading gesture.
Draco stared at him unblinking - watching, waiting. “You're gonna make me feel
so good to make up for today, right Harry?”
Harry vibrated like a plucked bow. Draco held out his hand, thumb dripping
blood. Harry gave a whine as he moved forward, mouth open. The thumb pushed
past his lips and slid along his tongue, the taste of blood and Draco filling
his senses.
Sucking tenderly, Harry watched as the blond used his other hand to undress.
Slowly, Draco pulled the white, short-sleeved button-up from tight riding pants
and began to unbutton the shirt with one hand. White creamy skin was revealed
an inch at a time, and Harry sucked hard, his stomach fluttering, feeling hot
and tingly as the shirt fell from Draco's loose fingertips.
Cheeks flushing, lips parting, Draco began to breathe faster, his eyes locked
on Harry's mouth where it sucked greedily on his thumb. Each pull of Harry's
mouth made him want to rut against the smaller boy, and he moaned, deep in his
chest. Heart beating hard and fast, Harry bit down softly as Draco undid the
button and opened the fly of his pants. He wore no underwear.
Pulling his now healed digit from Harry's mouth, Draco fisted the boy's hair
and ordered, “Come here.”
Harry moved forward, – desperate need want.
“Hands behind your back,” he whispered, voice husky.
Harry obeyed immediately, clasping his wrists at the small of his back. A moan
slipped past his lips as his head was guided to Draco's throat. The first taste
of Draco's deliciously salty skin made him shiver. Lapping and sucking, he
worked his way down the graceful slope of Draco's shoulder – love need
gratitude.
When Harry's tongue pressed flat on the starburst bullet scar, Draco's head
fell back with a long moan. Blood afire, determined to make Draco feel good and
to apologize, Harry licked his way across Draco's chest and latched onto the
blond's nipple.
Draco's hand clenched in his hair, a long hiss of, “Yesss, Harry...” escaping
his mouth.
Tonguing, sucking, and biting the small bud, Harry felt blood roar in his ears
as Draco's hips began to undulate. The thrum of pleasure built deep in his gut,
and Harry licked across to the other nipple. Draco's nimble fingers undid the
buttons of Harry's shirt, revealing warm, sweat-damp skin. He cradled Harry's
head with one hand and pulled him against him, rubbing against the soft skin of
Harry's stomach.
“That's it... So good...” he moaned, low and sweet.
Rocking together, sweating as the heat built between them, Harry sucked until
his lips felt on fire. Pulling away with a gasp, he begged, “Please, Draco...
Please...”
Draco, pupils blown, lips parted as he panted, stared down into his face and
gave him a slow smile. Ever so slowly, he let Harry sink down to his knees.
Kissing and licking the skin of Draco's trembling stomach as he dropped, Harry
clenched his hands tight around his wrists to keep himself from reaching
forward and touching all that pale, faintly scarred skin. Then he was nuzzling
into the place where Draco's scent was strongest. He closed his eyes on a deep
moan as the taste of Draco filled in his mouth.
“Ah! Harry... Shit...” Draco panted, jerking with every touch of Harry's hot
tongue.
Time hazed around them. Soft grunts, whines, and moans filled the air.
Suddenly, Draco grabbed him by the hair and lifted him. Harry gasped as he was
slammed against the tree. His wrists dragged painfully against the rough bark
as Draco pinned him there with his body and rocked hard against him. Harry felt
his collar fall away and his eyes flew wide, a cry rising to his lips, but it
was cut off with a gasp as Draco bit him hard. Harry saw stars, pleasure/pain
exploding through his body, sending him flying.
He came to, lying on the ground with his head in Draco's lap. His skin still
sparked and throbbed hotly, focused between his legs and on the side of his
neck. Draco sat with his back to the tree and was smiling his soft smile. Harry
smiled back, reaching up to reverently touch Draco's cheek with trembling
fingers.
“Such a good boy,” the blond whispered lovingly, petting Harry's hair and
staring into his eyes. “Made me feel so good. My Harry.”
Harry melted, tears brimming in his eyes – love adoration gratitude.“Love you,
Draco, love you so much. Yours. I'm yours.”
Draco caught the hand against his cheek and kissed Harry's fingertips.
Harry closed his eyes as a warm shiver ran through him. Warm leather slid
against the skin of his throat and closed over the fresh bruise. He shivered
again and turned his head to Draco's bare stomach to press gentle kisses there.
In the end, he took up gardening during the two hours that Draco continued
working with Lucius and the horses. Gardening took patience and perseverance,
which suited Harry much better. He soaked up everything Narcissa taught him,
determined to do exceptionally well to make up for his failure at riding.
                                       …
Midmorning:
They stood in front of Narcissa in the sunroom. Behind them on their desks were
scrolls of pages drying in the sun filled with their lettering and math
exercises. Now they stood with their backs straight and prepared for their
elocution lesson. Harry did better at these exercises. For him, he was
remembering his original way of speaking whereas Draco was learning a whole new
accent.
“These exercises will help you to redirect where the sound resonates in the
cavities in your head, your throat, and in your chest,” Narcissa told them. She
sat in her chair, her hands folded in her lap and her back as straight as
theirs. She was relaxed, calm. “Now when someone has a British accent, it isn't
just because they pronounce the sound in the correct way, it's also to do with
where the sounds are resonating and the way they use the muscles in their
mouth. The first exercise is a ho-hum. Make your mouth really round on the ho
and draw out the hum until you run out of air. Ho-huuuummmmmm.”
“Ho-huuuuuuummmm,” they said together.
They did this for several minutes until Narcissa nodded. “Now we will
strengthen our tongue muscles. I want you to move your tongue in a circular
patter eight times on the outside of teeth, but keep your lips closed.... Good.
Now to the left.”
Harry glanced at Draco and saw the impression of the blond's tongue moving in
quick tight circles under his lips. Harry tried to match him, but he wasn't
quite as quick or coordinated with his circles.
“Now seven in both directions.”
They did it seven times.
“Now six.”
“Then five.”
“Four each side... Three... Two... Last one, both sides... Good,” Narcissa
praised them with a smile. “Now imagine you are yawning. When you yawn, you
lift the soft pallet at the back of the throat. I want you to try to lift the
soft pallet and bring down your lower jaw and hold it there. Really open your
mouth like a cave. British English requires your mouth to be really open and
for your voice to really resonate in the back.”
Harry did this and felt his collar draw tight around his throat. Purposefully,
he pressed his throat against the constraining leather to feel a tingle of
pleasure as it pulled tight enough to ache. Red staining his cheeks, he held
the position, feeling his throat open.
“Now we are going to go through the vowels. I want you to really draw them out
and feel them in the back of your throats.”
For the next hour, they practiced sounds and completed warm-up activities. Once
they were done with those, Narcissa had them echo words and sentences to try
and match her intonation and pronunciation. She'd say things like, “No... go...
home... alone... grow... notion... solo... explode... The oboe and cello sat
alone, woefully echoing tone for tone... Autumn... awful... flawless... call...
wall... walk... talk... thought... brought... The tall author walked
awkwardly...”
And so on for another hour.
                                       …
Lunch, followed by an hour of French lessons.
                                       …
Afternoon:
They took their fencing lessons in the ballroom. The large open space with a
whole wall made up of mirrors had been intimidating at first, but they were
beginning to get used to it. It had been strange at first to see Narcissa in a
fencing jumpsuit instead of a dress, but that was soon forgotten as she
displayed her skill. It also helped that she put Harry at ease, always patient
as she taught them positions and strikes.
Every time they began, she'd remind them, “Remember fencing may not be useful
in and of itself, but it is the foundation for magical dueling. If you learn
this now, you will be more skilled when it comes to magical battle.”
Harry had been very reluctant to fight Draco, but the blond had made it clear
what he wanted. “I need ya to do your best so I can get better, too. I wanna be
good at this.” And just like that, Harry forced himself to try and win.
He pulled on the fencing uniform and placed the helmet on his head. He watched
as across from him Draco pulled on his own helmet. Lunging forward with the
thin sword, Harry tried to hit his chest, but Draco parried with a flick of his
wrist that sent Harry's sword to the side. Harry retreated with a sliding step
back. He put his arm in the guard position as Draco took a lunging step
forward, sword coming at his face. Harry swiped to the side, and Draco parried.
They traded fast swinging swipes until Harry saw an opening and jabbed Draco in
the thigh. Heart pounding, he heard Narcissa call the point. Then Draco was
pressing forward relentlessly. Harry defended as best he could, but he
eventually felt the jab to the chest.
His legs were screaming from being held in lunging positions, and his arms
burned from being held aloft, but he was grinning. Draco was getting better!
Harry was so happy for him! Turning that joy into focus, Harry attacked,
twirling his sword, ignoring the ache in his wrist.
Draco was pressed backward, and Harry saw it! The opening! He jabbed forward
right into Draco's face-mask. Narcissa called the point. His hair was plastered
to his head with sweat under the helmet and he was breathing hard, but Harry
set himself to receive Draco's retaliation attack. He steeled himself to do
better and be faster to help Draco.
                                       …
Mid-afternoon:
Lucius joined Narcissa and them in the ballroom for dance lessons. Harry both
dreaded and loved it.
First, they had to wear hot, uncomfortable formal robes, which consisted of
black boots with an inch heel, black pants, white dress-shirt, dark blue, satin
vest that fell to mid-thigh, black outer robe that fell to the floor, blue neck
tie, and white gloves. Narcissa cast cooling charms on them, but it only helped
a little.
Narcissa wore a ballgown and gloves for the lessons, her hair done up even more
intricately than normal. She always gave them such a big smile and a compliment
when she saw them in the formal clothes. It made Harry happy that he at least
could do that right.
Draco, on the other hand, looked unhappy in the robes, and Harry fidgeted,
wishing he could do something to help him. The blond always left his robes open
or half unbuttoned with his tie hanging loose. Harry was nervous that he would
get in trouble, but Lucius would only say, “That's fine for practice, but make
sure you button up at the ball.” Narcissa never commented.
Second, they had to learn dozens of steps, which got mixed up and confused in
Harry's head.
“There are two basic dances you will need to be familiar with,” Narcissa had
explained in their first lesson. “The Quadrille, which has a wide variety of
rapid, skimming steps, such as the chassé, jeté assemblé and entrechats. There
are several versions of the Quadrille, and these set dances are done in
formations of squares and lines that require several couples to perform. Then
there are the couple dances that only require two dancers dancing together,
which are all variations of the Waltz: the Five-Step Waltz, the Polka, the
Schottische, Valse à Deux Temps, Redowa, and the Varsouvienne.”
Harry tried his best to mimic and remember the steps as Lucius and Narcissa
demonstrated them, but it was confusing and complicated. He'd sweat and
struggle as Narcissa and Lucius took note of his every mistake. He tried to
recreate the graceful way the couple would move across the floor, but he
constantly stumbled over his feet. Stomach in painful knots, he felt close to
throwing up until the part in the lesson where he and Draco were allowed to
dance together.
Heart pounding, Harry let his hands and body settle into Draco's hold. Grey
eyes calm and confident, Draco would stare straight into him, and Harry would
get lost in his eyes each time. It was the most amazing feeling; like flying.
With Draco guiding their steps, suddenly it wasn't hard at all. It was so easy
to move, skipping in places and gliding in others. Their outer robes flared
when they spun or turned, and Harry actually felt beautiful. Even when they
were told to switch roles with Harry in the lead, Draco would still subtly
guide him and they'd flow around the room.
In Draco's arms, Harry loved dancing, and from the way Draco's eyes sparkled
and his lips quirked in a cocky smile, Harry thought Draco loved it, too.
                                       …
Dinner, followed by an hour of history, in which Narcissa would walk them down
the Hall of Portraits. Every night, she would have them pick a portrait and
would tell them about the person within.
Balls of light floated above them, adding to the firelight from the sconces and
three chandeliers. They stopped in front of a white-haired wizard with dark
blue eyes. He was sitting in a massive chair, a darkened room behind him, with
a large fireplace roaring with fire. Two thin grey dogs lay at his feet,
sometimes lifting their head to look down at them. The man stared coldly down
at them from his painting.
“This is Abraxas Malfoy,” Narcissa introduced them. “He was Lucius's father and
Lord Malfoy before him. Abraxas, this is your grandson, Draco Lucius Malfoy,
and his bonded, Harry Potter.”
Suddenly, the older man grinned. He had a fierce smile with straight white
teeth. “Good evening, young Malfoy, young Potter.”
“Abraxas was born in 1921. He was sorted Slytherin in Hogwarts, and was the
star of the Quidditch team, playing beater and Captain. He graduated from
Hogwarts in 1938 and, I believe, he would have gone on to be a professional
Quidditch player if his duties as the Heir to a Noble House did not bind him.”
“Oh, I played a game here or there,” the man in the painting drawled.
Narcissa nodded her head to him. “He studied business under his father
diligently and married Iris Selwyn, a Pureblood, five years later in 1943.”
“She was so beautiful. Lucius and yourself received your grey eyes from her,”
Abraxas stated, voice subdued as he pet the head of one of his dogs.
“The war between Light and Dark was very fierce at this time. Many families
died for the Dark cause, following Dark Lord Grindelwald. Abraxas did not
fight. It is a family law that a Malfoy must not put their life at risk without
first producing a Blood Heir. However, Abraxas's father had an heir in the form
of Abraxas. He fought, and he died fighting in 1945. This was the same year the
Dark Lord was defeated by Albus Dumbledore. Upon his death, Abraxas became Lord
Malfoy at the age of twenty-four.”
Draco cocked his head, his blond hair shifting around his shoulders. “Is this
usual?”
“Typically an Heir does not achieve Lordship until his forties,” Narcissa
informed him, a sad tone to her voice. “Lucius and his father were very
extraordinary.”
“I see.” Draco looked away from her to gaze at the painting in consideration.
Abraxas gazed back calmly, still stroking his dogs.
“A year later, Abraxas founded a Quidditch team in France: the Quiberon
Quafflepunchers,” she continued. “In less than three years, the team grew to be
incredibly strong and gained fame by consecutively winning the French League
Cup. Unfortunately, amid this success, tragedy struck again. Lady Iris died
giving birth to Lucius in 1954. Abraxas sold the team for a very substantial
sum to stay close to home and raise his son.”
“That's so sad,” Harry muttered, holding tighter to Draco's hand.
Abraxas didn't comment, staring broodingly into the fire.
“Lucius grew up and was sorted Slytherin at Hogwarts. He was very clever for
his age and was top of his class all seven years in Hogwarts, becoming a
Prefect and then Head Boy.”
“Didn't join the team, though,” Abraxas muttered.
Narcissa smiled. “No, but he became Lord Malfoy at thirteen years of age and
managed to increase the Malfoy power when everyone suspected it would be the
end of the Noble House of Malfoy.”
“Thirteen?” Draco echoed, looking up at her.
“Yes.” Narcissa gently tucked Draco's hair behind his ear. “Abraxas caught
Dragon Pox in 1967 and died a few months later at the age of forty-six.
Fortunately, there's a vaccine for it now, so such tragedies do not happen any
longer. Lucius founded a new company that year to honor his father: The Nimbus
Racing Broom Company. It is arguably the best broom company in the world still
to this day.”
“Wow,” Harry breathed. The candlelight glinted off his glasses as he looked up
at Abraxas. “You must have been a good dad.”
Abraxas smiled gently down at Harry. “I am sorry I left him so soon, but he has
done me proud.” His eyes shifted to Draco, who was frowning. “I can only hope
Lucius has a chance to know such joy as I did.”
Narcissa gave a little curtsy and turned to the boys. “Come, children. It's
time for bed.”
                                       …
They worked hard. Even meal times were lessons, and not even when they were
sent to bed did the lessons stop. Alone in their rooms, Draco continued to work
with Harry on his “public mask”, and if they weren't too tired, he'd also have
Harry write in his journal the way Laila had taught them.
By the time Draco blew out the candles, they were exhausted, but no matter how
tired they were, they still struggled to sleep through the night. Dark circles
had begun to line their eyes as the week came to an end.
“I'm worried about them,” Narcissa spoke into the dark as she lay next to her
husband. “They look so tired. Perhaps we should let them rest.”
“No.” Lucius's voice came from the dark. It sounded so close and yet felt so
far away. “We are already asking less of them than what was expected of us
growing up. They will adjust.”
Narcissa said nothing, uncertain and anxious. She got little sleep that night.
Chapter end.
 
***** The Ministry of Magic *****
Thank you to everyone who takes the time to leave me supportive comments and
feedback on the story! Seriously. Couldn't do it without you!
                             The_Ministry_of_Magic
Eventually it was the day they were scheduled to go to the Ministry to
formalize the co-guardianship and give an interview to the media announcing
their return. Andromeda would meet them there, and afterwards they would go
with her for three days before returning to the manor to finish out their
Malfoy month.
“Remember your mask,” Draco reminded, chin raised as Harry tied his tie for
him.
“Yes, Draco.”
They wore the day clothes that Harry wore everyday plus Draco wore a dark blue
over-robe on top. He had no idea why he had to wear so many clothes, especially
if a robe was going on top and hiding most of what he was wearing underneath,
but Narcissa insisted it mattered.
Drawing the line at the uncomfortable shoes, he wore his battered sneakers
instead. Narcissa had asked for him to tie his hair back or cut it in
compromise for the shoes, so Draco pulled it into a ponytail, his bangs falling
free to frame his face. He licked his fingers and tucked them behind his ears.
Harry wore a black robe to Draco's dark blue, but he had the matching silver
embroidery on sleeves, collar, and bottom hem. Unlike Draco, he wore the dress
shoes. Hair messy no matter what Narcissa did to it and black-framed glasses
over big green eyes, he looked adorable.
Full of love for the small boy standing in front of him, Draco touched his
cheek. “I'm gonna be right beside you.”
Green eyes lifted to meet grey. “I'll be good,” Harry promised, his voice
wavering only a little.
Draco leaned forward and gently kissed those sweet lips. “I know you will.” He
reached forward and took Harry's hand, leading him from the safety of their
bedroom.
They ate a tense and silent breakfast, Draco frowning and tugging at his collar
repeatedly. Afterward, they were led to the receiving room. The Malfoys looked
much as they had when they'd arrived at Dumbledore's office – blank-faced and
dressed sharp.
“Only certain families are given access to directly floo into the Ministry,”
Lucius told them, bragging. “Are you ready?”
Draco took Harry's hand and squeezed into the crowded fireplace with the two
adults. The fire flared green, and with a whirl, they were landing somewhere
else. Draco stepped out, barely noticing Lucius spelling his and Harry's robes
clean. The place was massive!
Dark wooden floors, massive fireplaces all in a row, dozens of them,
constructed of black marble bricks, green and gold curved fireplace mantles,
massive black chandeliers, and a river of people creating a low, constant
murmur echoing around the tall, narrow chamber.
Lucius, cane in hand, strode slightly a head of them. Narcissa held one of
Harry's hand and Draco had hold of the other, placing the smaller boy safely
between them. They boys stared wide-eyed at the oddly dressed people around
them; they wore layered robes, witch's hats, old fashion suits, and strange
uniforms. Birds flew above their heads or sat on shoulders. Paper airplanes
zoomed around in flocks. Goblins walked knee-high to adults, grumbling angrily.
“The Ministry has seven departments in all, each dealing with different aspects
of the Wizarding world,” Narcissa explained as they walked. “The Department of
Magical Law Enforcement is located on level two. It is the largest. All the
others more or less answer to it, except the Department of Mysteries. We are
headed to level eight, where the conference rooms are located.”
The lobby had concentric rings made of white and green marble and in the center
was a massive statue made out of what looked like solid gold of a witch and
wizard with other magical creatures looking pathetically up at them. Other
statues and fountains with pale green water were stationed about. Surrounding
the lobby were dozens of windows several stories high, as if they were standing
in a courtyard of some fancy hotel.
“Each department has a Head who leads it, but the Minister of Magic is the
final authority. Millicent Bagnold is the current Minister, and she will be
present at our meeting with the Head of Magical Child Services, as well as her
Senior Undersecretary and Junior Assistant. Of course, the Head Auror will also
be there, no doubt,” she continued as if they weren't nearly shocked stupid by
their surroundings.
The crush of people moved them toward rows of old fashion elevators with metal
gates. Narcissa fell silent as they stepped onto the elevator with six other
people. Lucius grabbed Draco's shoulder and guided him toward the front corner.
Harry came with him, and the Malfoys formed a protective wall between them and
the other passengers.
Draco wrapped a supportive arm around Harry's waist, holding him close as the
elevator moved quickly backward and then dropped. They zoomed forward before
they stopped. A few people got off. They flew sideways before rising up for
several seconds. They stopped once more. Lucius pressed gently, and Draco
stepped off the elevator, pulling Harry with him.
They stood in a half-circle foyer with a desk and receptionist sitting directly
ahead. Five doors made of nearly black wood were arrayed behind her. Lucius
stepped forward, Narcissa taking Harry's hand once more and hanging back.
The young woman smiled. “Welcome to the Conference Center. May I have your name
and which boardroom you have reserved?” she asked pleasantly.
“Lucius Malfoy. Number three,” Lucius drawled, affecting a bored tone.
“Of course.” She waved her wand and door three opened. “Have a good meeting,
sir.”
Draco noticed that the woman eyed them curiously as they passed and narrowed
his eyes. The room behind the door was brightly lit, lush red carpet, white
walls, and a large oval table with at least ten plush chairs. A window at the
back overlooked the lobby.
Andromeda was already inside. She bowed her head in greeting at the Malfoys,
but she gave the boys a smile, saying, “Draco, Harry. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Auntie Andie,” Harry greeted her. He pulled free of Narcissa's
hand to go to the older woman's side.
He knew it was his job to try and make Andie happy, in case Draco needed her to
stand between them and the Malfoys. So he smiled and climbed into the chair
next to her. Draco followed more slowly, sitting on Harry's left. Narcissa and
Lucius took the chairs to Draco's left.
“How are you, Harry?” Andie asked Harry.
“Good, thank you,” Harry answered politely. “And you?”
Andie smiled, her hazel eyes bright. “I am very well.” She reached forward to
try and smooth down his hair.
The door opened. A muscular man with thin brown hair and a mustache entered
with a short chubby blonde woman on his heels. The man wore red robes,
obviously a uniform of some type. The woman was in a lavender skirt and suit
jacket. She carried a small brown briefcase.
Lucius rose to his feet. “Chief McLaggen. Mrs. Abbot,” he greeted them evenly.
McLaggen gave a respectful head bow. “Lord Malfoy.”
“Are these the children?” the woman interrupted. She positioned herself across
from the boys and set her briefcase on the table in front of her, smiling
warmly. “Good morning. My name is Abigail Abbot. I'm Head of the Department of
Magical Child Services. I am so pleased to hear that you've returned home.”
“Andromeda Tonks,” Andie introduced, offering her hand.
Mrs. Abbot shook it. “A pleasure.”
As McLaggen took the seat next to Mrs. Abbot, a girl in her early twenties
entered with a folder and feathered quill clutched to her chest. She was
followed by a middle-aged man with dark hair and eyes. He had a solemn
expression and sat away from everyone else. The girl sat halfway between the
group and the standoffish man and set about getting her papers and quill ready.
“The Minister is on her way. It shouldn't be more than a few more minutes,” the
man told them dourly.
“Thank you, Senior Undersecretary. I know she is a busy woman,” Mrs. Abbot said
cheerfully.
Dumbledore entered the room. Draco lifted an eyebrow at the plum colored robes
he wore, embroidered with a silver W over the breast. He gave them all a wide
smile. “Ah. Good morning, all.” He focused first on Lucius and then on
Narcissa, eyes twinkling. “May I offer my congratulations on this joyous
occasion?”
“You are too kind,” Narcissa said politely, her expression blank.
Dumbledore continued to smile as he took the seat on the far side of Mrs.
Abbot, placing him across from Andromeda.
An elderly witch with grey streaks in her thick, shoulder-length strawberry-
blonde hair stepped last into the room. She wore thin, gold-framed glasses and
was very thin and tall. She should have looked frail, but her eyes were full of
life.
She smiled widely and clapped her hands. “Ah. Good. We're all here,” she
exclaimed, voice strong. She sat directly in front of Lucius. “Shall we begin?”
“Thank you for officiating, Minister Bagnold,” Lucius said politely. He placed
a hand casually on the table top, leaning back in his chair. “I am here to
document the co-guardianship of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter between myself,
my wife, and Andromeda Tonks. I would also like place into official record the
magical contract we signed regarding the terms and conditions of the co-
guardianship.”
“On what grounds?” Bagnold asked, glancing down the table as Mrs. Abbot snapped
open her briefcase and took out an inch high stack of papers.
“I have received the proper paperwork, Minister. The Malfoys have provided the
medical reports of an Asclepius regarding the twin-bond between the children,
rendering the boys magical siblings in the eyes of the law. Thus the necessity
of a co-guardianship between Harry Potter's legal guardian, Andromeda Tonks,
and Draco Malfoy's guardians, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.”
“The magical contract was reviewed and accepted by your department?” Bagnold
questioned.
“Yes, Minister,” Mrs. Abbot confirmed.
Bagnold turned her attention to Lucius. “Up until recently, your son was
classified as missing with the DMLE.”
“I informed them upon Draco's return,” Lucius reported calmly.
“This is true,” McLaggen agreed. “However, we were not informed of the
circumstances of young Malfoy's return.”
Bagnold's expression grew serious. “A manufactured twin-bond takes time to
form. For the boys to have done so, they had to have been exposed to each other
for a significant amount of time. Lord Malfoy, I must ask. Is Mrs. Tonks
responsible for the abduction of your son and blackmailing you into a co-
guardianship?”
“She is not,” Lucius answered, meeting her eyes easily. “My son and Mr. Potter
were held together overseas and formed the bond there. They have only recently
been discovered and returned to Great Britain. Mrs. Tonks was notified at the
same time as myself and has not yet had the pleasure of hosting the children.”
“Mr. Potter was abducted by the same kidnappers? Why was I not informed of
this?” Bagnold's dark eyes glinted behind her glasses as she flashed a look to
McLaggen.
He gave her a subtle shake of his head. “We were not informed, Minister. Mr.
Potter's location was sealed by the Wizengamot for his protection.”
Bagnold arched an eyebrow at Dumbledore. “Care to elaborate, Cheif Warlock? I
assume that is why you are here.”
“Quite right.” Dumbledore stroked his long beard and stared thoughtfully across
at the boys. They were watching the back and forth along the table solemnly. “I
was the executor of Mr. and Mrs. Potter's Will. As the child's designated
guardians were incapacitated, Harry was given into the care of his blood family
and all connections to the magical world were cut at their request. As Chief
McLaggen has reported, it was for his safety. I had no idea the child had been
missing until I received an owl from a former student who claimed to have found
both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. I immediately arranged for their return and
contacted both Mrs. Tonks and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.”
Bagnold did not seem satisfied with this simple recounting. “And the identity
of the kidnapper?”
“Still a mystery,” Lucius drawled, but his eyes had brightened to a threatening
silver. “I am still looking in to it.”
“I see.” Bagnold eyed him. “And how is it Mrs. Tonks has become Mr. Potter's
guardian?”
“Mr. Potter has no remaining blood relatives,” Dumbledore answered smoothly.
“According to law, guardianship reverts back to the godparents' families. Mrs.
Tonks is the eldest surviving family member of Sirius Black, Mr. Potter's
godfather. Lady Longbottom, the eldest surviving family member of Mr. Potter's
godmother, has abdicated guardianship. She does not welcome such a connection
between her family and the Malfoys. ”
“Some would say that is understandable,” Bagnold said gently, dark eyes
unfathomable behind her glasses.
“I have agreed to the standard procedures of adopting a magical child,
including scheduled and unscheduled visits by the DMCS,” Lucius answered
gently, the sweet tone masking the danger underneath. “I see no reason for
concern, Minister.”
“Then I see no reason to draw this out. If both parties are in agreement and
Department Head Abbot has cleared your claim, then I hereby acknowledge and
ratify the co-guardianship between twin-bonded Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter
into the care of Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy, and Mrs. Tonks. Do any here object?”
The Minister actually looked to the boys, but they silently stared back at her.
“Very well. Pass down the documentation for signing.”
Papers were passed around and everyone at the table signed. Draco wasn't sure
if it was the same document and they were making multiple copies or if they
were different forms that required all of their signatures. Either way, it took
several minutes for the signing to finish. Eventually, the Minister with the
Senior Undersecretary and the Junior Assistant said their goodbyes and well-
wishes and took their leave.
“It was very nice to see you boys again,” Dumbledore said as he stood. “If you
need anything, you have but to ask.”
“Yeah. Thanks,” Draco muttered, tucking his bangs back behind his ear.
“Thank you,” Harry echoed, much less cautiously.
Dumbledore twinkled at them and swept from the room.
“Would you like to set up our first scheduled visit while you are here?” Mrs.
Abbot asked, looking back and forth between Lucius and Andromeda.
“That would be fine,” Andromeda answered first. “I am scheduled to have the
children for the month of August. How does the twentieth sound?”
Mrs. Abbot smiled and made a note. “That sounds fine.”
“Then we will do the same. September twentieth would be fine,” Lucius drawled.
Mrs. Abbot nodded and wrote it down. “Well, boys, I have been made your case
manager. I look forward to working with you.” She gave them a warm smile. “In
the next few days, I will be by to do an interview with you to see how you are
adjusting to your new environment.”
Draco didn't like how much she smiled. It was unnatural. He eyed her
suspiciously.
“I'm going to discuss security for the press conference with Chief McLaggen,”
Lucius broke in. He gave the woman a charming smile. “If it is convenient, you
could get the interview out of the way now. I understand it has to be conducted
without the guardians present, but surely a room would be available for a brief
meeting.”
“That is a great idea. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.” She stood and again smiled at
Draco and Harry. “Would you like to come with me for a few minutes? It
shouldn't take long. I have just a few basic questions.”
“Would it be acceptable if I stand in the lobby?” Narcissa asked, her
expression softened just enough to show worry. “Just to be sure no one takes
the boys without me seeing?”
“I understand your concern, of course.” Mrs. Abbot touched her suit jacket just
above her heart, expression full of sympathy. “I believe that will be fine. As
long as the boys feel comfortable with it.”
“It's fine,” Draco answered and stood, ready to get this over with.
Harry followed close behind him as they made their way to the door and back
into the foyer with the very interested receptionist. Narcissa stood with them
as they waited for Mrs. Abbot to figure out which room they could use.
“Don't forget your portkey,” Narcissa murmured, near silently.
Draco gave a small nod.
The button on both of their shorts was actually a very special portkey that
would take them through the manor wards and deposit them in the entrance hall
by the marble staircase. It was just in case of emergency. No one expected them
to actually need to use them. Similarly, Draco had put on the selenite ring
from the Shaman, and told Harry to do the same. In case they were separated.
Mrs. Abbot turned around and gestured them to Room One. Narcissa brushed her
fingers over Draco's shoulder and Harry's hair out of his eyes. “I'll be right
here if you need me,” she said softly.
“Don't worry. We'll be right back,” Harry promised with a sweet smile.
Narcissa couldn't help but smile back.
Mrs. Abbot held the door open and shut it behind them. Her smile never wavered.
Draco took the nearest chair, Harry sitting next to him. Mrs. Abbot left a seat
between them and sat. “I need to record the meeting, but I assure you no one
will see it except for me. It's merely for documentation purposes.”
Blank-faced, he watched as she sat out a parchment and set a quill atop it. It
lifted up on it's tip by an invisible hand and sat poised to copy their every
word. Draco nearly rolled his eyes. Of course the record would be seen by
others. What other purpose was there for taking a recording? He wondered just
how many kids had believed that line about it being private and wondered if
they felt betrayed or just stupid when it bit them in the ass later.
Ever smiling in her lavender suit, Mrs. Abbot began. “How do you feel about
living with the Malfoys so far, Harry?”
Harry blinked at her. His heart pounded and his cheeks were flushed with color.
He was terrified he'd mess up and get them in trouble. He didn't understand
exactly what they were doing here or why, but he understood it had to do with
him and Draco staying together. If things messed up, he was terrified they'd be
split up, him with Andie and Draco with the Malfoys. The mere idea of that made
him sick. He swallowed hard, listening as Draco fed him answers in his mind.
“It's been great,” he managed to answer past the lump in his throat. “I've
never lived in such a nice place before, and Narcissa and Lucius are so nice.
They teach us so much.”
Nodding, Mrs. Abbot kept smiling. “That's so nice to hear. What kind of things
do they teach you?”
Harry gave a shaky smile back and relayed Draco's words. “Lots of things.
Language and maths. Riding and dancing. How to eat properly.”
“That sounds interesting,” Mrs. Abbot said as if she completely agreed. “What
kind of things do you eat?”
He gave her a quick summary of the meals they'd had, and almost felt limp with
relief when she turned her attention to Draco instead.
“And how do you like it, Draco?”
Draco gave a shrug. “It's been different. I never thought I'd meet my birth
parents. It's a lot better than I expected. They were really happy to have me
back.”
“I bet it's been very overwhelming,” she sympathized. The quill made a constant
scratching sound as it wrote their words. “Do you feel they treat Harry
differently than you?”
“They treat him different because he is different,” Draco answered. He reached
out to twist a lock of Harry's hair around his finger. Harry felt his nerves
steady at the touch. “Harry's so shy, so they've been really nice with him. I
told them I'd rather they tell me things straight. So far they've done that.
We're in the same lessons, though, and they care about him, too, if that's what
you mean.”
“That's a very mature outlook,” she praised, eyes wide. She looked down at a
paper in front of her. “Your file states you're only seven and Harry's six?”
“That's right.” Draco dropped his hand from Harry's hair and made himself
smile. “Harry turns seven at the end of the month. Narcissa and Lucius are
gonna throw a big fancy party for him.”
“I bet you're excited.” Mrs. Abbot laughed softly. She included Harry. “Are you
excited for your party?”
“Yes,” Harry answered, Draco prompting him. He blushed and ducked his head. The
idea of a big birthday party for him made him feel horribly guilty, but he
wasn't going to let Draco down, so he looked back up and said, “We'll get to
dance and we'll meet other magical kids.”
“How wonderful!” She clapped her hands together happily, but then grew more
serious. “I just have a few more questions. Have either of you ever felt unsafe
with the Malfoys?”
“Well...” Draco drawled. He and Harry shared a glance, all staged of course. He
turned back to the woman to see her practically sitting on the edge of her
seat, she was so eager to hear their answer. “There was the time we heard a
strange pop and there was this creature in the middle of our room.”
Mrs. Abbot deflated a bit, her smile coming back. “The house elf?”
“We've never seen one before and it was really freaky,” Draco exclaimed, eyes
wide.
She laughed. “But it was friendly, wasn't it?”
Harry nodded, while Draco said, “Yes. He's name's Dobby. He's really nice. He
even sneaks us extra cookies sometimes.”
“He sounds very nice,” Mrs. Abbot agreed. She reached out and took the quill.
“Thank you for talking with me. I think you are doing really well, all things
considered. If you ever want to talk or have concerns, just send an owl to Mrs.
Abbot, okay?”
They nodded, smiling at her with nearly identical empty smiles. “Okay,” Harry
added.
* You were perfect, Harry, * Draco praised him as they were led back to the
reception room.
He duck his head shyly to hide the large, nervous smile that took over his
face.
Narcissa held out her hands to them as soon as she saw them. They each took
one.
“They did wonderfully,” Mrs. Abbot informed her, smiling as always. “If you
have questions or concerns, my department is at your disposal.”
“I appreciate that,” Narcissa said. “I look forward to your visit in
September.”
“Bye, boys. Behave,” Mrs. Abbot said with a wink before turning and heading for
the elevator.
Narcissa took them in the other direction, back toward Room Three. “How was
it?”
“Pointless,” Draco muttered, scowling.
She gave him an amused smile before schooling her features and entering Room
Three. Lucius met her eyes and his shoulders relaxed when she gave him a small
smile.
However, Draco's attention was on the new person in the room. The man stood
next to the door with wild tawny hair and yellowish eyes. He wore red robes
identical to McLaggen's, and he stood at attention with his hands behind his
back. Draco noticed he had his wand in hand, though.
“This is Auror Scrimgeour,” Lucius introduced. “He will act as a guard during
the interview. Chief McLaggen has graciously agreed to attend, as well.”
McLaggen stood next to Lucius and gave a roguish grin, his eyes sharp. “It'd be
best to head off any problems before they occur.”
Lucius came around the table, McLaggen at his heels. He stopped in front of
Draco. The boy tilted his head back and met Lucius's eyes calmly. “You don't
have to speak. We're just alerting the world that you are home safe. We want
them to get used to the idea that they may see you in public.”
Draco gave him a flat look, as if saying, 'I don't plan to talk, but if I see a
need to, I will.' What he said instead was a simple, “I'm ready.”
Lucius felt uneasy. He wished he could keep Draco hidden, but he knew it wasn't
realistic. Most immediately because he couldn't count on Andromeda keeping
Draco out of the public eye. The last thing he needed was for some 'hero' after
his money to kidnap Draco from Andromeda in the name of 'saving' him.
Gripping his cane tightly in hand, he made his way out of the room, trusting
Narcissa to make sure the boys followed. McLaggen kept pace; Scrimgeour took up
the rear with Andromeda walking before him.
Harry glanced at the side of Draco's face as they rode the elevator in silence
down to the lobby. It was perfectly calm and Harry felt some of his nerves
settle. Glancing down at their clasped hands, he opened his throat to feel the
press of his collar against his skin.
Draco felt the - calm trust - through the bond and felt fierce love. He'd do
whatever it took to protect Harry's peace of mind.
Chapter end.
A/N:I had no idea what to call the Head Auror and settled on Chief. Since
Dumbledore who is Head of the Wizengamot is Chief Warlock. Certainly, McLaggen
wouldn't simply be called Auror McLaggen if he's the Head, so what the heck
would they call him?
Things have been going too well for our boys this trip, don't you think?
(smirk) I hope it wasn't too boring. Next chapter should be interesting,
promise. I'm excited!
 
***** Breakdown *****
A/N:I'm posting this so early because I couldn't contain my excitement over
your reactions! I can't wait to hear it. Don't expect chapter 40 until Nov. 17-
ish.
Warning: non-con, toys, voyeurism, slash, minors together
 
                                   Breakdown
The lobby was as chaotic and overwhelming as when they first arrived. Lucius
and McLaggen led the way over to a small stage off to the side. A beautiful
fountain nearby and the dark marble walls gave the stage an elegant backdrop. A
small crowd gathered with curiosity as they noticed five journalist standing
ready in front of the platform.
Lucius gave his polite smile as he climbed the three steps of the stage and
made his way to the podium. McLaggen stood behind Lucius and a bit to the
right. Narcissa and Andromeda stood to the left with the boys holding hands in
front of them. Scrimgeour positioned himself in front of the stage, facing the
crowd.
Rita Skeeter, Lucius's year mate in Slytherin, was there having recently been
hired as a columnist for Witch Weekly magazine. Her hair was blond and in
ringlets, her mouth red as blood as she gave a shark's smile. Lucius tipped his
head to her.
Then there was Barnabas Cuffe, an old bald man with sharp eyes and sharp quill,
a reporter from the Daily Prophet. Two more reporters, one from Which
Wizardmagazine and the other from The Wizarding World News. Finally, there was
Xenophilius Lovegood from The Quibbler.
Lucius frowned. Lovegood hadn't been invited, and he wondered how he'd heard
about the press conference. In any case, he didn't have time to worry about it.
Standing tall, he looked out over the suddenly hushed group gathered before him
and gave a cool smile.
“Thank you for coming. I've asked you to meet me here so that I can make an
official statement of my son's return. And the return of his twin-bonded
brother, Harry Potter.” He gestured to indicate the children, his smile
widening just a fraction.
Immediately, flashes went off as the photographers lurking in the background
took pictures.
Draco's jaw tightened as the feeling of the Hold closed in on him, of being on
display for hungry eyes and sweaty hands. His hand tightened painfully around
Harry's and he locked his expression down. He refused to have an episode here!
Not while Harry needed him sharp and focused.
“Did the same person who kidnapped your son take Harry Potter?” - “We still
don't know the identity of Draco's kidnapper. If you know anything, I would
reward substantiated information. As for Mr. Potter, his information is
classified.”
Harry looked to Draco as soon as the blond's hand tightened around his. His
eyes widened in alarm to see how pale Draco looked and the scary non-expression
on his face, as if he were an empty doll.
“What is the name of the wizard who found the boys?” - “He wishes to remain
anonymous, but he has been given the promised reward.”
Harry's heart-rate picked up, but everything also went clear. He looked over
Draco's head at Lucius talking at the podium, then at Narcissa standing behind
Draco.
“Does this mean you have adopted Harry Potter?” - “Due to the twin-bond
rendering inseparable, my wife and I have signed a co-guardianship with Mr.
Potter's guardian.”
Harry turned to look behind him. Andie smiled down for a second before looking
back out at the crowd. None of them noticed that Draco's hands were shaking or
how his face was damp with sweat. Harry had to do something to protect him!
“Were they injured? For what purpose were the boys taken?” - “The boys have
been seen by healers and are healthy.”
Turning sideways, Harry reached over Draco's shoulder with his right hand,
still holding tight to Draco with his left. He looked up entreatingly as he
took hold of Narcissa's wrist and raised his voice to be heard, “Mother, I have
to go to the restroom.”
Narcissa stared down at him, eyes bright with surprise. Lucius stopped speaking
to look over at them. The crowd murmured loudly. “Did you hear that?” and
“Harry Potter called Malfoy 'mother'!” But none of that mattered because
Narcissa gave a small bow to Lucius and took Harry's hand.
Harry pulled Draco with him as they left the stage, Andie trailing behind them.
He didn't notice where they were going. His attention was focused solely on
Draco. The blond's mouth was slightly parted, his eyes were going glassy. His
whole body shook. It wouldn't be much longer now.
The joy setting Narcissa afire at Harry's public use of 'mother' disappeared
under a wave of worry as she noticed Draco's condition. Her steps slowed, but
Harry immediately looked up at her and demanded the restroom. She didn't know
what else to do, so she hurried forward.
Andromeda's cut in front of them, expression grim as she disappeared into the
woman's loo. Immediately four women hurried out, some with smoking hair and a
few not fully put to rights, but the bathroom was now empty.
Narcissa strode in, letting the boys pass her to shut the door behind them.
Andromeda stood across from her, wand out and eyes wide. They watched
helplessly as Harry physically pulled Draco into a stall and slammed the door
shut. The most heartbreaking sobbing could be heard a second later. The cold
feeling in her gut told Narcissa it was her son she was listening to.
Andromeda put a finger to her lips to warn her sister to be silent and waved
her wand in a spiral. The stall door turned translucent.
Draco was wedged into the corner where the door met the wall. His knees were
pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his shins. His head was
tilted back; his face contorted in an expression of pure suffering. His eyes
were squeezed shut, tears drenching his cheeks. His voice rose and fell as he
sobbed and screamed.
Narcissa couldn't bear to watch and turned her eyes to Harry. The boy was
kneeling, his hands on Draco's knees, never once looking away from the other
boy's face. His mouth was moving as he spoke, but she couldn't hear what he was
saying over Draco's cries.
– “This is my new boy.”
A crop cracked against Draco's thigh. Sweating, trembling, he stood with his
fingers linked behind his head, elbows out, as if he were under arrest. His
feet were spread just past his hips. He was naked. His butt yellow and green,
the deep bruising from his initiation spanking still healing.
He stood on a low table that served as a stage. Five men were seated on the
couches around him. They were drinking and laughing. Pointing at him. Taking
pictures. White flashes sporadically filled his vision. He was cold, exhausted,
sore, and hungry. Tears drenched his face as his master walked around him, crop
in hand. He poked and prodded, sometimes hitting him, as he talked.
“It's important that you punish any disobedience in your new pet.”
The men cheered as Draco was cracked across his ass. The pain whited out
everything else and he howled, forcing his clenched muscles not to fold, to
keep the open position. He could hardly breathe through the pain, it hurt so
bad.
He missed whatever was said next, but hands were running down his sweat-soaked,
trembling skin. The men were around him, ignoring how he sobbed and gasped for
air. Gripping his thighs, pinching his stomach, stroking the throbbing agony of
his backside, rubbing between his legs. They were talking about him. Discussing
his quality. Master was complimented.
The touching went on for what felt like hours when Master shoved him down with
a violent hand on his shoulder. His knees hit the table with a painful thud. A
sandwich was tossed at him. Draco scooped it up and ate it in three large
bites. He practically inhaled the offered bottle of water next.
“Hands!”
He quickly linked his fingers behind his head, elbows out. The woman who took
pictures for the catalogue was there. Her long red hair fell around her
shoulders and shone, freshly washed. Her brown eyes were bright, pupils large.
She wore a tank-top, her nipples hard and pressing up against the fabric. Out
of her jeans stood a small strap on.
Master began to instruct the men on how to train a pet to give head. Draco
hated them. Hated them all so much. Glaring through his tears, he met the
woman's eyes as she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pressed the plastic head
to his mouth. She was grinning. Her red lips pulled wide, revealing yellowing
teeth.
“You know what happens if you bite, slave,” she whispered, red-cheeked and
eager.
Draco made her force his jaw open. The rubber split his mouth and slid over his
tongue, hitting the back of his throat. Stomach churning, he put all his focus
on not vomiting. It distracted him. Let him haze out the feeling of the rigid
thing thrusting in and out, pummeling the inside of his cheeks and throat.
Flashes, more pictures. Laughter, comments, and critiques blurred in his ears.
Jaw burning, coughing and gagging, he was released and flung flat. Hands
grabbed his hips, lifting him up. His butt hot with healing bruises, his knees
screaming, he looked behind him to see her strap-on dripping with his spit.
Draco whipped his head around. Found his master's eyes. No! No, not this!
Anything but this!
There was no mercy in his master's face. Draco screamed as he was breached. His
fingers bled as he clawed at the wooden table. Bearing down, snarling, he took
the pain in. Took it and let it feed the hatred.
As his insides were pounded and stretched, as his whole world lit up in agony,
someone asked to use his mouth. Draco bared his teeth in a ferocious grin,
wishing one of these bastards would do it. Wishing he could kill at least one
of them.
The master slammed his head down. Pressed his cheek to the floor, denying him
vengeance. “You better find a way to be useful, slave, if you don't want to do
any more demonstrations,” the man whispered threateningly, breath hot in his
ear.
Draco sobbed as the pounding continued, rocking his body hard enough to scrape
his cheek raw. –
Lucius slipped into the bathroom nearly fifteen minutes after the women had
left with the boys. Scrimgeour and McLaggen remained outside, guarding their
privacy. He found them standing by the sinks, staring at a translucent stall
door.
Draco was inside. Curled up on the floor, back wedged into the corner. Potter
was sitting in front of him, stroking his damp cheeks and hair. His son's grey
eyes were blank, utterly exhausted. Every instinct he had told him to get Draco
away, to hide him somewhere safe and quiet until he recovered. The clock was
ticking. Rumors would already be spreading. His son's future was at stake. They
had to leave quickly!
“Why are you allowing this to continue?” he demanded, shooting Narcissa a sharp
look.
“We tried, but there is a magical field,” Narcissa answered, voice trembling.
She gave him a pleading look. “I believe it's coming from Harry. It's creating
static. No spells are connecting.”
Lucius strode forward and opened the door with a violent yank. The latch flew
off and pinged against the wall. He just barely caught the door as it was about
to bang against the neighboring stall.
Potter jumped to his feet, expression fierce as he spread his arms, blocking
Lucius from Draco. “Leave him alone!”
Lucius never imagined the timid boy could look this fierce. Green eyes bright,
brows lowered dangerously, mouth turned down, he met Lucius's eyes and actually
stared him down. Lucius could feel it now, this close, like a coming storm. The
pressure was remarkable, especially considering it was coming from the small
body standing defiantly in front of him. The boy's hair looked even messier,
tossed about by the whirling magical current surrounding him. The child looked
like something wild and dangerous.
Heart pounding, Lucius knelt. He met the child's fierce eyes and spoke gently.
“We're not safe here, Potter. I want to take him home.”
Harry didn't move. “No.”
Lucius's eyes widened in shock at hearing that word from the boy.
“If he's touched, it makes it worse. He doesn't like it. Not 'til he's better.”
The press of magic began to almost vibrate against Lucius's senses. “I
understand that. I'm not going to touch him.” He reached a hand forward,
offering it to the boy. “If you will step aside, I'm going to cast a magic
spell to make him sleep. Then we can all go home where it's safe.”
Harry's arms began to tremble. Uncertainty crept through his veins. He looked
behind him, unconsciously seeking guidance from Draco.
Lucius saw his chance. He hardened his voice, reaching forward to firmly take
Potter's wrist. “Draco's not safe here. Move aside.”
“Malfoy...” Andromeda spoke harshly in warning.
“Lucius...” Narcissa echoed in almost the exact same tone.
Harry's head whipped around. Fury like never before pounded hard through his
body – Filthy Freak! Faces filled with hatred as they looked at him, disgust
dripping from their expressions if they ever touched him. Draco's naked,
bleeding form.Bang!Draco shot; Brendon's head gone. Draco's back shredded to
the bone, blood everywhere. The pain on Draco's face; the sound of his screams,
the sound of him crying.
Eyes blazing green, magic whipping around like a wind, Lucius was shoved
backward – It was Harry's job to heal Draco. To take care of him. He was
Draco's, and he would protect him! – His mouth fell open. He had no idea what
would come out, just pushed all the emotions tearing through him up and out,
willing the world to leave them alone!Felt Draco's magic, cold and sharp,
spiraling through him, adding to his own.
Lucius watched, horrified, as black smoke spilled from Potter's open mouth.
Narcissa screamed as it coiled up and solidified into a huge black snake with a
dark green pattern going down it's back. Ten feet long and a good four inches
wide, it was one of the largest snakes he had ever seen.
The drag of the snake's scales on the bathroom tile made the hair on the back
of their necks and arms rise. Lucius jerked backward in pure reflex, trying to
get away, while Narcissa and Andromeda breathed in fast, terrified gasps. The
snake's head lifted, waist high, with jaws opening to reveal long fangs.
Harry caught the wall of the stall with his outstretched hand. He stared at the
snake, expression coldly determined. He opened his mouth again and hissing
emerged. “Keep them away from us,”he ordered. Then, dizzy, he turned and fell
to his knees in front of Draco. He put his hands on either side of the blond's
head, shielding him and keeping himself from falling. “It's okay, Draco. No
one's gonna touch you. It's just me and you.”
Lucius felt like the ground gave way beneath him as he heard the sinister
syllables fall from the child's lips. He'd heard it before and often from Lord
Voldemort: Parseltongue. He held perfectly still as the reptile's head made a
warning strike, fast as lightning, inches from his face. A splatter of venom
hit his cheek and burned painfully like acid.
Narcissa screamed again and the snake whipped around to hiss at her, mouth open
threateningly. Andromeda grabbed her sister's arm in a white-knuckled grip, and
Narcissa fell silent.
The bathroom door began to open. Likely the Aurors checking on the situation in
response to the screams. Lucius had a horrifying moment where he envisioned the
Aurors coming in, battling the snake, hurting the boys, and then proclaiming
them evil, to be studied and locked away.
Lucius whipped his wand forward, slamming the door shut in the face of whoever
was trying to get in. He slashed his wand out in front of him, this time aimed
at the snake. It hissed and writhed, but the spell wasn't strong enough to
destroy it. It only pissed it off.
The snake's eyes were the size of ping-pong balls, and they seemed to almost
glow a poisonous yellow with fury. With another nerve rattling hiss, the snake
struck at his throat.
Giving a choked off yell, Lucius flinched, but the monster bounced off his
shield. Even still, the power behind the blow resonated through his bones.
Furious, Lucius whipped his wand downward, casting a rare Dark spell that
cannibalized another wizard's spell and added that power to Lucius's own.
The snake began to shake and expand. A second shield saved him from the filth
as it exploded.
Potter yelped and collapsed limp from the backlash. Draco reflexively caught
the smaller boy, his eyes beginning to focus.
Lucius didn't hesitate. “Stupefy! Stupefy!” The boys fell unconscious
immediately. He turned back to the women. “Portkey home. I'll tell the Aurors
they grew sick.”
Narcissa hurried forward, but Andromeda was frowning.
“Are you sure this was the wisest way?” she asked, expression dark.
“Go or stay. I care not!” he snarled and moved toward the door. Behind him, he
heard Narcissa activate the emergency portkeys. He didn't bother to see if
Andromeda went with her.
He straightened his hair and collected himself before pulling the door open.
Scrimgeour stood glaring while McLaggen frowned. “Thank you, gentlemen, for
your assistance. The boys aren't feeling well and I sent them home.”
The men looked into the room, but there was nothing left to see. The exploded
flesh had been consumed by Lucius's spell. He gave them a cold smile and pushed
past them, heading for the floo. Reporters were waiting to mob him.
“Mr. Potter was feeling ill from his first time traveling by floo. I had them
return to the manor by portkey. Excuse me.”
They shouted questions, but he acted as if they were invisible as he strode
past.
                                       …
Draco opened his eyes. He felt hazy and his body felt as if he'd been run over.
Slowly he realized he was in their bedroom at the manor. He rolled his head on
his pillow and saw a chair had been pulled up to the bedside. Narcissa was
sitting quietly. She looked exhausted. A book sat open on her lap, but it
didn't look like she was actually reading it.
His hands clenched: one had a fistful of sheets, the other warm flesh. He
relaxed, knowing Harry was close to him, safe. As he relaxed, tears came. His
face felt raw already and bitter shame burned his throat. “Can you make them
stop?” he rasped. “The memories?”
Narcissa's head lifted and she leaned forward to smooth back his sweat-damp
hair. Her eyes were blue and soft, full of concern. “Draco...”
He jerked his head away from her, and she quickly pulled her hands away. “Can
you?” he asked again.
“I will do everything I can,” she promised, leaning over him protectively.
Draco nodded and turned his back to her, pulling Harry against his body and
spooning him. “Make sure he doesn't come in here.”
There was a pause before Narcissa answered. “I will.”
Draco was glad that she hadn't asked who he meant. He was too exhausted to
talk. Closing his eyes, he let sleep take him.
                                       …
Narcissa stepped into their bedroom and shut the door quietly behind her.
Lucius was sitting on the far side of the bed, his back to her, still fully
dressed. She walked around the bed and planted herself directly in front of
him. Long hair falling loose around his face and shoulders, he looked up at
her, expression blank.
“Our son woke from your spell and went back to sleep. They were exhausted on
top of whatever that was in the bathroom,” she told him, brows lowered over her
eyes. “He asked me to make sure you wouldn't come into their room, Lucius. You
need to talk to him.”
Lucius frowned, his eyes going stormy.
Narcissa cut him off before he could speak. “I'm not saying what you did was
wrong, but you need to talk to him! Come to some sort of understanding before
things get worse.”
“Narcissa...”
Her hands went to her hips, her voice rose. “I'm not asking, Lucius! Andromeda
voluntarily postponed her visitation period until next weekend so the boys
could recover in an environment that is familiar. You have until then to speak
to Draco.” With that, she stormed from the room. She refused to share a bed
with him until he relented.
Lucius buried his face in his hands as the door slammed behind her.
                                       …
Draco came slowly awake. Soft kisses lighted on his face, his shoulders, his
chest. Warmth saturated his body, and he hummed happily. The butterfly kisses
turned into soft licks of a warm tongue. Cracking his eyes open, he saw early
morning sunlight spilling through the curtains. Harry was kneeling over him,
his mouth moving across Draco's skin.
Smiling, content, he slid his fingers into Harry's thick hair. Using that as
leverage, he guided the boy's willing lips to his own. Warm and soft, they
licked into each other's mouths, sucking hungrily on each other's tongues.
Draco used his other hand to guide Harry's body to rest on top of him.
Dragging his hands down Harry's back, he gripped the smaller boy's hips and
urged him to rock nice and slow. Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, their warm
skin pressed together and rubbed, smooth and moist from sweat. The blankets
rasped under them as they moved in steady thrusts.
Goosebumps along his arms, Draco arched like a cat, pressing more firmly
against Harry's warmth. He spread his legs, pressing his crotch against
Harry's, no clothing between them, and sensually rocked upward.
Harry gasped. “Draco... Draco, yes...”
Heart thundering, eyes bright silver, Draco groaned and opened his legs,
dragging the sensitive skin of his inner thighs along Harry's hips until he
could hook his calves around the smaller boy's knees, pulling him ever closer.
The kisses grew deeper. Harry's moans vibrating into his mouth. One arm holding
the boy close, he let his other hand sink back into Harry's wild hair. * So
good. *He pulled Harry's mouth to his own and, lashing his tongue against
Harry's, he had the boy whimpering.
Harry's rocking hips became erratic, - pleasure love need - throbbed through
the bond. Draco took Harry's bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. Harry
gave a low cry as pleasure exploded between them, sudden and fierce.
Draco groaned, holding Harry painfully tight until their bodies went limp and
languid. Lazily, he pet Harry's hair, the boy having collapsed on his chest.
Green eyes deep and glossy, unhindered by glasses, Harry looked up at him and
whispered, “Love you, Draco...”
Choked up, Draco hugged him close. “Love you, Harry,” he whispered.
Chapter end.
A/N: Who would they be able to contact about Draco's flashbacks?
I'd like to say Snape, but he's not really trusted yet and he's not a healer.
Would his skill in the Mind Arts even be known by so many? Maybe a Greengrass
since I have it set up that they are healers?
What do you guys think?
 
***** Reactions *****
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The sky was blue, the morning crisp. Lucius stood amidst the beauty of his land
and felt peace. It was the perfect day for riding. He was just lifting his wand
to summon the horses when some sense made him look behind him.
The boys were approaching from the direction of the manor, dressed in their
riding clothes. They were holding hands as was their norm, their heads tilted
together as they spoke. Harry's face was lowered, his bangs obscuring the upper
part of his features. Lucius could just make out the small smile the boy wore,
lips pink against his fair skin.
Draco, on the other hand, was intently focused on Potter. His free hand
gestured around him, as he did most of the talking. “...walk right into your
hands. Just a little longer and you can reveal who you really are...”
Lucius frowned.
Just then, Potter lifted his head. Red gleamed through black bangs and a smirk
slid across the child's features. Hate and malice boiled in that look, and
Lucius's forearm felt as if it had caught on fire. Slamming his hand over the
excruciating mark, Lucius stared at the child in horror. The Dark Mark had
awoken.
… Gasping, Lucius sat up, heart thundering. He quickly turned to sit on the
edge of the bed. His hands shook, his eyes falling on his left forearm. The
Dark Mark was barely there, barely a shadow. Clenching his hands into fists, he
stood and made his way to the window.
Parseltongue... How did Potter know Parseltongue? The image of the Dark Lord
formed before him. Red-eyed, masterful, malevolent – ready to destroy the world
and remake it in his image. It had been thrilling to be part of a revolution
that would save wizarding kind.
He still believed that allowing Muggleborns into their world was slowly rotting
it away from the inside. The birth of magical children continued to decrease
every year. Out of the sacred twenty-eight Pureblood lines that existed at the
turn of the twentieth century, only twenty had decedents alive today. And out
of those decedents, only thirteen families had produced children this
generation.
But the Dark Lord had grown unstable. The mission had become blurred. Lucius
suspected the Dark Lord had worked some form of Dark Magic and it had gotten
away from him, affecting his mind. Dark Magic was powerful and vast, but it was
unforgiving.
What had truly taken place that night? Iason had classified Potter's mark as a
curse scar, but what if it signified something more dangerous? What if the
child was still connected in someway to the Dark Lord? Did Potter have some
strange access to the Dark Lord's power? His knowledge? Had Potter somehow
absorbed it that fateful night as a child?
Lucius shivered as his dream came back to him. He remembered how closely his
son stood practically intertwined with the smaller boy, how closely their heads
rested together. Sharp anxiety spiked through his chest.
Why hadn't Narcissa mentioned the boy's use of Parseltongue? To give her
credit, it was possible she didn't recognize it for what it was. She had never
been in the presence of the Dark Lord and having a snake manifest was certainly
distracting. But it was also possible she was already under Potter's influence.
Wiping his damp brow, Lucius rested his forehead against the windowpane and
closed his eyes. He had no idea what to do. There was too much he didn't know,
and he didn't understand the facts he did have. Glaring, he turned from the
window and went to his desk.
He quickly took out some parchment and penned a note to Snape. Certainly
Dumbledore must have theories about the night his enemy had been defeated.
Snape would find out what Dumbledore suspected or Lucius would have to come up
with stronger motivation for his old associate.
His second note was much more polite. In it, he wrote the magical core expert
who had been recommended and requested a meeting at their earliest convenience.
His third note was equally polite as he wrote Iason instructions to contact the
best Mindhealer he knew and send them to the Manor for a home visit as soon as
possible.
Opening his window, he gave three sharp whistles, and owls came swooping toward
him. He gave them room to perch on the sill and tied the letters to their legs.
In a cloud of feathers, his letters were off. He was just about to close his
window again when he saw a fourth owl swooping through the night sky.
He waited patiently until it perched in front of him, two newspapers in its
talons. Lucius went to his desk and pulled out a few galleons, placing them in
the pouch on the owl's leg. He had to pay extra, but it was worth getting the
news a few hours earlier than the general public.
Emotions locked away, he took the papers back to bed with him and quickly
skimmed the articles for the most interesting portions:
Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter returned to the Wizarding World after being
kidnapped! Are our children safe? … The boys were quiet and subdued, although
it was reported they are healthy … Harry Potter calls Lady Malfoy mother! Does
Mr. Potter finally have a family after losing his own six years ago? … Malfoys
have long been at the center of Dark rumors. Will taking in the Child of Light
finally clear the Malfoy name? … Potter sensitive to magical travel? Boy grows
ill after his first time flooing! Rushed home! Are the reports of his good
health false? … Mysterious man reported to have won the promised fortune for
Draco Malfoy's return …
Lucius tisked, setting the papers aside, but it wasn't as bad as he had feared.
The rumors focused mostly on Potter, and even then it wasn't too damaging. The
shadow of ill-health wasn't necessarily bad at this age. It gained sympathy,
and there was plenty of time to out-grow it before adulthood when it would be
seen as weakness. In fact, the most disturbing bit was the report about the
reward. Heaven forbid the media discover that the reward hadn't been given as
promised. He would instantly be shamed and his business reputation would be
ruined.
Returning to his desk, he wrote out another note:
Dear Mr. Lupin,
I apologize for not following up with you as I had intended. I'm sure you
understand things have been very busy. Please join me at my manor after
breakfast at your earliest convenience. My floo address is as follows: Malfoy
Manor, Wiltshire, England.
Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy
                                       …
Draco rolled over and came face-to-face with a sleepy Harry. The boy smiled and
Draco pressed their foreheads together. He felt good. Better than good. He felt
like he'd slept a week and was ready to get back to work. But first...
“What happened yesterday?” he asked, voice low and rough from sleep.
Harry blinked slowly, eyes unobscured by his glasses. “While you were upset?”
he asked softly.
Draco nodded and sat up. Harry sat up with him and bit his lip, nervousness
creeping along the bond. Draco took the his hand in his and pinned him with a
stare. Head ducked, Harry explained what happened.
“I called Narcissa mother and asked to go to the restroom.” Harry's fingers
twisted in the blankets as he remembered what happened. “I wan'ed to make sure
to get her attention.”
Draco's grey eyes widened and he stroked Harry's hair, soothing the boy's
anxiety.“What then?”
“Andie came with us. They got rid of the people in the bathroom, and I pulled
you in a stall away from them. You were... away.” He looked up and met Draco's
eyes, feeling - protective. “Then Lucius came. He pulled the door open.”
Harry's little face screwed up into a look of stubbornness. “I told him to
leave us alone and wait for you to get better.”
Draco giggled. Flinging his arms around Harry's neck, he hugged the boy close.
It felt like a whole flock of birds were taking off in his chest. He could just
imagine sweet, little Harry glaring up at Lucius. Draco grinned; Lucius had
probably gotten the shock of his life!
Harry, squished against Draco's chest, stared wide-eyed as the blond kept
chuckling. His lips twitched and soon he was smiling, too, glad Draco was
happy.
“I wish I could've seen his face!” Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry's thick
hair. “Then what happened?”
“Well,” Harry began, smiling unsurely. “He said we'd be safer here. Said he'd
make you sleep and you'd be better, but I... I didn't want him to move you, not
when you didn't know.” He turned in Draco's embrace, sitting sideways in the
blond's lap. He blinked up at Draco, unsure if he'd done the right thing.
Draco leaned over to kiss Harry's cheek, still grinning. “You did great, Harry.
How'd you make 'em back off?”
Harry's expression screwed up in a look of deep thought. “I don'know. It's like
it all just came out of me. How much everyone hated me before and Brendon and
you being hurt all the time... I felt everything come out and a big snake
appeared!” He looked earnestly into Draco's eyes, waiting for condemnation or
acceptance. “I told it to keep Lucius away.”
Draco stared at Harry with his mouth slightly open. Then he threw his head back
and howled with laughter. He fell back onto the pillows, laughing so hard he
almost peed himself.
Harry's heart beat with - happy nervousness. He smiled unsurely, eyes riveted
on Draco as the blond held his stomach and laughed, his hair fanned out around
him with cheeks red and eyes sparkling.
“You... you summoned... summoned a huge... snake... to guard us?” Draco panted
as his laughter died down. The fierceness of Harry's love filled him with
electricity. He got up on his knees and tackled Harry. He rolled the boy and
ruffled his hair, fingers darting in to attack Harry's sides. “Harry, you did
so good! Bet you shocked the hell outta 'em all!” He rained kisses down on
Harry's face.
Giggling, Harry wiggled underneath Draco.
Draco kissed him soundly. * Mine, Harry. You're mine.*Pulling away, he looked
into Harry's shining green eyes.*And I'm yours. *He leaned down and bit hard
into the collar around Harry's throat.
Harry gasped – joy exhilaration lovelovelove -and flung his arms around Draco's
neck, tears falling down his cheeks.
Draco lifted his head to kiss Harry breathless. Heart pounding with a joy he
couldn't contain, he resumed his assault, tumbling Harry right off the edge of
the bed. The room was soon filled with the shrieks and squealing laughter of
two little boys.
                                       …
Dumbledore set Lucius's letter aside and steepled his fingers in front of his
face. He stared solemnly across his desk at Severus who sat with dark eyes
unfathomable. Dumbledore frowned. “What is your interpretation of the letter?”
“I would assume something has happened to cause Lucius to become suspicious or
concerned,” Severus answered evenly, staring right back.
Dumbledore dropped his hands with a sigh and leaned back in his chair. It was
early, breakfast not yet served, and he was already exhausted. “You must
ingratiate yourself to the Malfoys, Severus. We must know what is happening
with Harry.”
“What should I tell him?” Severus asked, voice low, expression intent.
Sighing again, Dumbledore closed his eyes. “I do not keep my theories from you
to torment you, Severus. I merely felt it did your heart no good to know what I
believe happened that night.”
Severus said nothing. He revealed nothing. Even as rage and grief tore through
his chest with almost physical force.
Dumbledore's faded blue eyes opened. “Tell him the truth, Severus.” He rose and
came around the desk to stand by Fawkes's perch. The bird trilled and leaned
into the old man's gentle touch. “Voldemort went to the Potters' home to kill
Harry. He found James first and killed him before moving straight to the
nursery.”
“And then?” Severus asked harshly when the Headmaster paused.
Dumbledore turned back to face the younger man. “And then he tried to kill
Harry.”
Severus felt his heart beating with violence in his chest. “Lily.”
“Yes,” Dumbledore answered gently. “Lily stood between them. She sacrificed her
life.”
Severus sat there transfixed as Dumbledore spoke the long held secret.
“I cast a terrible spell, Severus. I walked the shadows of that night. James
died quickly and in pain. Almost five full minutes passed before Lily died.
They must have spoken, but what could Voldemort have possibly wanted to say to
her?” Blue eyes gentle, he admitted. “I believe he took your plea into
consideration. Or perhaps he was forced to offer her mercy. You revealed the
prophecy to him. His magic may have considered that a life-debt and your
request as payment. Whatever the reason, I believe he spent that time telling
her to stand aside. His intent was to spare her in that moment.”
Severus's heart beat with violence in his chest. Every breath was agony.
“Instead, she died, standing between Voldemort and her son. The backlash of
betraying a life-debt coupled with the power of her sacrifice when she could
have lived...” Dumbledore fell silent as Severus crumpled in on himself, head
hanging.
No more was said between them. Dumbledore turned back to Fawkes, and when
Severus felt he could stand, he fled the Headmaster's office.
                                       …
Narcissa sat at the vanity in one of the guestrooms. She was about to pin up
her hair when the elf popped in and delivered her a letter. She took it and
felt her brows lower in a glare when she saw the handwriting within. Her
expression darkened as she read the words.
Dear Narcissa,
I write to you out of concern. The children have experienced hardships beyond
true understanding. I am as eager as you for them to have a successful and
productive future, however I am concerned the typical agenda for an Heir to a
Noble House is detrimental to their health at this point. They are not typical,
and I suggest that to treat them otherwise is careless.
Upon consulting a Muggle healer - and before you scoff in racist disgust,
sister-mine, I did this because I felt it of the highest importance to keep the
boys more delicate details away from Wizarding ears – In any case, I was
informed the boys likely suffer from something called Post Traumatic Stress
Disorder, among other things. It is not a permanent condition if treated.
Treatment involves giving them a stable, safe environment, a manageable
schedule, and talk therapy.
Exhaustion, stress, and things that mirror the past will cause something called
a flashback: a mental attack that will trap Draco in the traumatic memory. I
was told it is as if he were experiencing the memory all over, more vivid than
a Pensieve. I'm sure you understand my horror at such a possibility.
I can only assume the stress of being in a new environment and the exhaustion
caused by the strict schedule he is on contributed to Draco's attack at the
Ministry. Therefore, I respectfully request that you cut two subjects from
their daily lessons and allow them a rest period of at least three hours in the
afternoon.
I wait in anticipation for your answer.
Sincerely,
Andromeda Tonks
Narcissa flung the letter onto her vanity table in disgusted fury.
It infuriated her that Andromeda had taken action without consulting her and
was deeply offended that her sister had the audacity to suggest an ignorant,
primitive Muggle knew the best thing to do for Draco. In any case, Narcissa had
already decided before the wretched letter that they would have to scale back
the lessons. The boys were exhausted, that was plain to see. Perhaps in time
the lessons could be increased again, but for now they needed more room to
breathe.
Not bothering to fetch fresh parchment, she took a quill and flipped the letter
over onto the back, writing:
The boys will alternate riding and fencing in the mornings after breakfast.
Then they will have their reading, maths, and elocution lessons before lunch.
After lunch, they will have a few hours to themselves. I've decided they can
continue their French lessons at a later date. However, they will continue
their dancing lessons before dinner.
She didn't bother to sign it. Striding to her window, she whistled. She only
had to wait a few moments before an owl swooped down. Still burning with anger
from her sister's cutting words, she stormed toward the informal dinning room.
Her hair was left unbound. She was too angry to mess with it now.
Lucius glanced up at her from a newspaper, expression guarded. The boys had yet
to arrive. Good.
Eyes cold, she informed him, “I'm going to contact our healer for a
recommendation of a skilled and trustworthy Mindhealer.”
Lucius gave her a stiff smile. “I have already done so. A Mindhealer will
arrive after lunch, if you wish to be present during the interview. If it goes
well, he will take an Unbreakable Vow before he sees Draco. I have also
employed a magical core specialist. They will arrive tomorrow to help the boys
understand and manage their bond.”
Narcissa narrowed her eyes dangerously, but she could not say anything cutting
because the children had arrived. She gave the boys a smile, locking away her
restless fury. “We will be changing your daily schedule,” she told them after
they politely placed their napkins in their lap.
The boys looked over at her curiously.
Narcissa took great pleasure in pretending Lucius was not in the room as she
explained the changes she had decided on. In this, he had no say. The boys'
education was under her purview until they reached Hogwarts age.
                                       …
Remus took a staggering step out of the floo into a receiving room that would
have been at home in a palace. Inhaling, he caught faint traces of his boys. It
helped settle him. An elf popped into existence. It looked female with blue
eyes and less pointy features.
“Come this way, sir. Master be waiting for you,” she said softly.
Remus followed her, smoothing a hand down his robe front. They were a chocolate
brown, simple but new. He wore black slacks and a cream dress shirt underneath.
His boots were worn but well made. Sandy blond hair fell loose around his face
to soften the scars there. Nerves set a fine tremor through his fingers as they
transversed hallways with marble statuary and gorgeous paintings. Eventually,
the elf led him to a closed door. He took a deep breath, hand resting lightly
on the latch, and stepped inside.
The study was done in dark browns and golds. A massive bookcase filled with
old, well-cared for books stood against one wall. Shelving displayed mysterious
objects. A large square window let in the morning light. Against the far wall
stood a massive desk. Lucius sat behind it in a luxurious day suit. Pale blond
hair loose around his shoulders, grey eyes sharp, face expressionless, he
gestured with a ringed hand toward the armchair across from him.
“Good morning, Mr. Lupin. I appreciate your timely arrival.” Lucius fingers
carelessly drummed on the desktop. “Would you care for a drink or some food?”
“No, thank you,” Remus answered politely, sitting.
Grey eyes so reminiscent of Draco's pinned him in place. “I'm sure you know why
I called you here.”
“How are they?” Remus asked softly, not looking away.
“Well.” Lucius stared at him a long minute. “Why did you contact Dumbledore and
not the Aurors when you discovered the boys on your vacation, Mr. Lupin?”
Remus's expression became guarded. “I was very good friends with James in
school. I've been involved in Harry's life since his birth. I consider him a
type of nephew. So I was aware that the Ministry had limited dealings with
Harry for his protection and the Headmaster had been appointed with some
authority regarding Harry's safety. I had no idea Draco was your son until we
arrived here. I thought he was an American Muggleborn Harry had bonded. If I
knew his identity, I would have contacted you and the authorities right away.”
Lucius gave a slow blink. “I understand.” He leaned back in his chair and
linked his fingers over his stomach. “Your rescue of my son was coincidental,
wouldn't you agree?”
Remus said nothing, just sat and watched him.
“Therefore I intend to grant you only half of the award.”
Personally, Remus didn't care one way or the other about the money, but he was
hoping to forge some type of understanding with the man. “I am extremely
grateful for your generosity, Mr. Malfoy. I in no way expect a reward for my
actions. I've come to care for the boys through our experiences together, and I
only care that they are with people who will do their best by them. I'm content
just to know they are safe.”
Lucius inclined his head. “Rest assured they are more than well.” He opened his
desk drawer and pulled out a bank draft. He placed it on his desk and slid it
across to Remus.
Remus lifted it and almost felt like gaping. This was only half?
Lucius stood. “I hope I can count on your support in the future, Mr. Lupin.”
Remus stood by reflex, still holding the bank slip in nearly numb fingers. “May
I see them?”
Lucius stared at him through eyes that had gone flinty. “I appreciate the
circumstances that led you to bringing my son home, Mr. Lupin. However, you are
not a family member nor are you my son's peer. Any further contact would be
inappropriate until they are older.”
Lucius's coldness chilled him to the bone, but Remus wasn't about to leave
without a fight. “Considering all we've been through together, I wouldn't count
my concern inappropriate,” he argued, refusing to drop his eyes from Lucius's
angry stare. “I ask you to reconsider. I merely want permission to keep in
contact with them.”
Lucius was unbending. “Good day, Mr. Lupin.”
Remus felt rage stir in his gut. He was tempted to throw the bank draft on the
desk in disgust, but instead he deliberately folded it and placed it in his
pocket. Harry had inherited some wealth but would not be able to access it
until he was seventeen. The boys may need money before then if something
happened that caused them to split from the self-serving, contemptuous Malfoys.
Bowing his head with a blank face, Remus turned and took his leave. He was
tempted to search for the boys by scent, but he knew that would start an
unnecessary fight. Remus suspected Lucius was not finding it easy to bond with
the children. Another male in the picture who already had a connection was
competition Lucius would not allow.
Remus understood, but it was still difficult not to hunt the boys down and see
with his own eyes they were well. He missed them terribly and worried about
them constantly. He wanted to let them know he was here, that they weren't
alone. A powerful urge to tip his head back and howl nearly overwhelmed him,
but long years of keeping his secret kept him in check. Plus, it helped to know
Andromeda was not adverse to the idea of Remus visiting.
He was just about to throw the floo powder down when he heard his name. He
turned and saw the boys standing in the doorway. Harry was smiling and offered
a wave, his hair a mess as always and his green eyes shy behind his black
glasses. He his other hand was holding to Draco's sleeve. Draco was busy
looking him up and down, making sure he was okay. Remus felt all his nerves
disappear, his whole being steadied by that single glance.
“Remus,” Draco said and entered the room.
Harry bounded up to Remus with a big grin. “Remus!”
Well-accustomed to Harry's habit of never touching another person even if he
wanted to, Remus knelt to wrap the small boy in a hug. He smiled over Harry's
shoulder at Draco. He reached forward to squeeze his shoulder. Draco allowed
it, face relaxing in a genuine smile. “How do you like it here?” Remus asked
them.
Draco shrugged, but Harry answered more reassuringly. “It's nice! Narcissa is
teaching us so much, and we have a big room, and a big bathroom!”
Remus stood and smiled down at the happy child. “I'm glad.” He turned his eyes
to Draco. “If you need anything, let me know.”
Draco nodded, his head tilted curiously. “How're you? Where're you staying?”
“I've been staying at Hogwarts for now, but I plan to rent a little place in
Hogsmeade.” A shadow filled the doorway and he quickly stood. Narcissa Malfoy
gave him a neutral look. “Lady Malfoy,” he said politely with a small bow.
She inclined her head.
Lucius appeared behind his wife, his expression cold as ice. “Mr. Lupin.”
Remus caught the equally cold glance Draco gave his father and frowned.
“Draco?”
The blond returned his eyes to Remus and gave him a sharp smile. “I'll write
you.”
Lucius's expression darkened.
Remus cast Draco a worried look, but the blond firmly gestured for him to go.
He hesitated, but he trusted Draco. Sighing, he ruffled Harry's hair and gave
Draco a meaningful look before stepping up to the floo. He cast the powder down
and disappeared with the image of Harry holding Draco's hand, the stern Malfoys
standing behind them in an opulent receiving room.
“Harry, we left the sunroom a mess. Help Narcissa clean it up,” Draco ordered,
never taking his eyes off Lucius.
“Yes, Draco,” Harry answered and immediately hurried past the Malfoys and out
the door.
Narcissa shot her husband a look as she followed Harry out.
Draco gave Lucius a cool smile. “Not as weak as you thought he was,” he said
lightly before his expression hardened. “What do you want, Lucius?”
Lucius frowned. “I could ask the same of you.”
Draco shrugged. “I want to be safe. I want Harry to be safe.” He paced up to
the older man, eyes gone silver. “Safe from men thinking they can make
decisions for us. Safe from manipulations and selfish desires.”
Lucius's cheeks went red. “Selfish desires!”
Draco took another step closer, predatory and dangerous. His teeth flashed in a
hard grin. “You may not want to fuck me, Lucius, but you do want me to
perform.”
Lucius went pale and took a shocked step back.
Draco stalked him. “You want a son in your image. You want a child to mold to
think like you and obey you and hold your goals above his own.” Lucius's back
hit the wall, and Draco cruelly pressed his point home. “That son died, Lucius,
the moment I was sold into slavery. I've got my own plans now and a boy to look
after. You either get in line with that or get out of my way.” Cold power
licking through his blood, Draco swiped his finger across his tongue and
grabbed Lucius's limp wrist. Lucius tensed as he felt the burn of a welt where
Draco's spit touched his skin. “And if you ever touch Harry again... You won't
like what happens,” Draco promised.
Lucius grabbed Draco's wrist with his free hand, holding the boy's hand in
place, ignoring the sharp pain. He pushed off the wall to stare his son down.
“If I merely wanted a son to mold, I'd wipe your mind clean and start over,
Draco. Don't think for a moment I don't understand your relationship with that
boy. You think the world's going to cheer when they find out?” His own eyes
sliver, he bent to put Draco more on eye level. “You have a lot to learn,
Draco. You're still a child, despite everything. Everything I've done is to
protect you. Start paying attention. You'd notice I'm not the enemy.” With
that, he flung Draco's hand away. It hurt terribly, but Lucius refused to
cower.
Draco had the audacity to laugh. “You think you're not the enemy? You think
you're protecting me?” He shook his head. “You won't even see me for who I
really am. You don't respect me or Harry, but you think you can make decisions
about my life.” Draco turned his back. “You may not be an enemy, but I'm not
dumb enough to think you're an ally, either.”
Lucius watched his son leave, heart thundering in his chest. Powerful emotions
stormed through him, making his hands shake. “Lottie,” he called. The elf
appeared in a second and Lucius spoke before she could. “I need the burn salve
in my potions case. The yellow jar.”
Lottie disappeared and Lucius staggered to one of the chairs. He sat heavily
and tried to get his breathing under control. Lottie returned and handed him
the small jar. Lucius dismissed her and quickly applied a liberal amount to his
wrist. Merlin, it hurt!
Ripping his hair out of its tie, he tilted his head back and stared
despondently up at the ceiling as he waited for the Mindhealer. “What am I
going to do?” he muttered, exhausted.
Chapter end.
A/N:Still waffling on the Mindhealer. It's slowing things up. I should be back
to updating every week, though. Look for the next update Friday, December 2nd.
Feedback and thoughts would be VERY welcome. Thanks again for your patience!
 
***** Interlude II *****
A/N: If you haven't had the chance already, check outFreedom_Bound_in_Chains-
fanart by pixi56. The art is amazing! It's so awesome to see my words come to
life. XD
THANK YOU, PIXI56!
                                   Interlude
Lucius lifted his head as he heard his wife quietly enter the room. He did not
acknowledge her presence. She had made it clear they would be separated until
Lucius came to an accord with their son. It still felt like a sword through the
gut, however, but fortunately they didn't have to wait long in the awkward
silence.
As the fire flared, Lucius stood from this slouched position and schooled his
features as he watched an elderly wizard with a cane step from the floo on
Iason's arm.
“Lucius, this is my father, Cyrus Greengrass. He is renowned for his ability in
the Mind Arts and healing.”
“Thank you for coming, Lord Greengrass,” Lucius said graciously and bowed.
The old man's green eyes were fogged with age, but they still seemed to pierce
right through Lucius. “I warn you now, Malfoy, I am not certain I will be of
help,” Cyrus told him in a gruff tone. “I can cure a mind effected by spell and
potion, but Iason made it clear the boy suffers from neither. True memories are
a different matter entirely.”
Lucius stared at the old healer, expression hard. “My son needs healing. I'm
certain you will manage to find a way to grant it to him. As for the
difficultly of the task, you will be justly compensated for your efforts.”
Cyrus shook his head. White hair pulled back into a low ponytail, face lined
with wrinkles, he must have been one hundred years old at least. “Let me see
the boy.”
“First, I would have your vow,” Lucius countered.
The next few minutes were spent with Cyrus and Lucius twining their magic in a
Vow that required Cyrus not to reveal Draco's secrets to anyone other than the
Malfoys and Iason.
“Would you like to follow me?” Narcissa asked politely.
She led them down the hallway and to the sitting room. Cyrus settled with a
creak of old bones into one of the padded armchairs. He set his cane between
his legs and folded his hands on top of it while they waited for Dobby to fetch
the boys. Iason remained at his father's side, Lucius stood by the window,
hands clasped behind his back, and Narcissa sat on a couch.
Draco stepped in, suspicion written all over his guarded features. Harry stood
at his back, fingers clinging to Draco's shirt. It was Narcissa who introduced
the boys to the old healer.
“Draco, Harry, this is Iason's father, Cyrus Greengrass, Head of the Greengrass
family. He's a very special healer who can help prevent what happened at the
Ministry.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow and met the old man's faded green eyes. “What're you
gonna do exactly?”
“I'm going to look into your head and get a feel for what's going on,” Cyrus
answered calmly. He seemed unfazed by talking directly with a child, unlike
Iason.
“Will it hurt?” Draco asked. Harry's hand tightened around his shirt.
“It shouldn't. You will be able to feel my presence, and it will be
uncomfortable at first, but the more we work together, the more that will go
away.”
Draco smiled, eyes cold. “I meant, will it hurt you.”
Cyrus's bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I assure you, I'm well versed in
defending my mind.”
Draco shrugged. Never taking his eyes off the old man, he said in his mind, *
Harry, go sit with Narcissa, okay? * Out loud, he said, “You're just looking.
You're not gonna do anything without talking to me first?”
“Of course.” Cyrus handed his cane to his son, and Iason took it with care. The
old wizard held his hands out. “Come. Let's see what I'm working with here.”
Harry obediently went and sat with Narcissa. She smiled at him and put her arm
around his slender shoulders, letting him lean into her side. Draco, meanwhile,
marched up to the old wizard and stood directly in front of him. His grey eyes
met Cyrus's as the gnarled fingers lifted to his temples. Everyone in the room
watched anxiously as the two simultaneously closed their eyes.
Green leaves and tress and vines pressing in all around him. Moist heat.
Screams of an animal dying. The smell of blood and fresh rain. Eyes staring
hungrily from shadows. Trying to push through green, leafy vegetation. Slick
vines tangling arms and legs. The sting as insects bit at him. The searing burn
of venom. Something stalking him. Feel it shake the bushes, knowing it was
coming for him.
Harry watched like a hawk, tensed and ready to throw himself between the wizard
and Draco if necessary. A minute went by. The white head twitched. Then the old
man's shoulder gave a jerk. Iason frowned and Lucius stepped away from the
window, moving closer to his son.
Suddenly, Cyrus jerked back as if pushed. His eyes flew open, wild and dilated.
He immediately turned to the side and vomited. Narcissa gasped. She tried to
hold onto Harry, but the boy was gone and standing at Draco's side. Lucius
studied his son's face carefully. He was sweating, but his eyes were clear and
he seemed otherwise unaffected.
“I don't think you can help me,” Draco stated wryly, lips turned up. “Come on,
Harry.” Taking Harry's hand, he turned and left the room.
Lucius stood frozen, heart pounding as he watched Iason kneel and tend to his
ill father. Narcissa called Lottie and had cold water delivered. She also
offered to send for potions, but Iason declined, his wand twirling around his
father.
It took fifteen minutes b3fore the vomiting and dry heaves stopped. Cyrus sat
pale in the chair, leaning heavily on his cane. “That boy's mind...” he rasped
and shook his head. “He needs help, but it is not healing he needs. He needs a
Master Occlumens. There is only one who has the skill to tame that boy's mind.
Only one student who surpassed me in Occlumency. I've been sworn to secrecy by
both of you, but I can contact him and persuade him to come. It will be up to
you to explain the situation and convince him to mentor your son.” Milky green
eyes lifted and stared hard at Lucius, pressing his point home. “It's the boy's
only chance or his mind will keep attacking itself, eventually driving him
mad.”
Lucius held the old wizard's eyes. “I understand,” he told him solemnly. “We
appreciate your support. I will, of course, pay for your services today.”
“Can you tell us what you saw?” Narcissa asked, voice hushed. She sat with her
hands clasped tightly together, her eyes a little too wide.
Cyrus stared at the far wall, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. “The boy's mind
is seething with memories and emotions. His will is exceedingly strong and
gives his mind teeth. It's a jungle of smothering vines, darkness, and
poisonous creatures, but his mind is alive and rich, the landscape so vivid.
I've never seen the like! The violence there...” Tears fell heedlessly down
Cyrus's face. “I cannot imagine what shaped a child's mind into that... that
chaos. Nor do I wish to try. I will contact my former student. I wish him
better luck than I. Come, Iason.”
                                       …
Hours had gone by, Lucius and Narcissa separating to digest what had occurred
with Lord Greengrass. Now they were both standing the ballroom, tutoring the
boys in dance.
Narcissa watched the boys glide across the floor. It never failed to bring
tears to her eyes, the way Harry just seemed to melt into Draco's arms and the
way Draco held Harry so carefully as he guided them effortlessly across the
floor.
She turned her head to see Lucius watching the boys, as well. Tension around
his eyes and mouth revealed his anxiety, and she felt her heart soften. Slowly,
she reached out to capture his hand in hers. His was cold, and she squeezed it
gently.
“Lucius, talk to him. Tell him how you feel. You must break this wall between
you or we will not make it as a family. Please, Lucius,” she begged.
Lucius closed his eyes for a long moment before he lifted their clasped hands
to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers, turned, and left the
ballroom.
Narcissa pressed her hands together, trying to forget the feeling of his lips
so soft against her skin. Anger and grief surged through her chest, and it took
all her strength to keep it from her face. Why did he have to be so bloody
stubborn? Draco had returned to them! Why were they still so splintered?
                                       …
The next day at breakfast, Lucius was unable to eat. His wife's words would not
leave him. The memory of a powerful healer vomiting after seeing his son's mind
and Draco's cool smirk afterward haunted him. As soon as he saw that Draco was
mostly done with his breakfast, he tapped his nail against his glass. The clear
chime brought everyone's eyes to him.
“I would speak to you in private, Draco,” he said calmly, ignoring the hope
that surged into Narcissa's face.
Draco tilted his head, expression lazy. It was clear he did not see Lucius as a
threat. “What about?”
Lucius said nothing, holding Draco's eyes and waiting.
Draco sighed. “Fine.” He pushed up from the table and left the room.
Lucius stood and followed him. Instead of the sitting room, Draco went to the
parlor. The boy went to the chair next to the bar and sat, kicking his legs. He
gestured at one of the decanters on top as Lucius came to stand across from
him.
“Looks like you could use a drink,” Draco snarked.
Lucius felt his lips twitch. His son's audacity and strength was impressive,
but Lucius's humor didn't last long as the realities of the situation returned
to him. “A magical core specialist will come in a few hours. They will not look
into your mind. Instead, they will measure your magic and the bond between you
and Potter.”
Draco's expression went blank. “No.”
Lucius sighed and stepped up to the bar, pouring a drink as Draco had so kindly
suggested. “Draco, it is not your bond that is under question.” He took his
glass and turned, placing his hip to the bar so he could face his son. “Potter
spoke Parseltongue and conjured a venomous snake. Those are skills only one
wizard has possessed in the last century: the Dark Lord.”
Draco's cold expression crinkled, eyes narrowed. “So what's that mean?”
“I'm looking into it.” Lucius took a sip. The liquid slid down his throat like
silk and warmed his stomach. “That includes hiring an expert in magical cores.”
White blond hair falling into his face, Draco's brow crinkled. Leaning forward,
he looked up at his father, grey eyes curious. “What're you afraid of?”
“Potter's magic could be contaminated,” Lucius answered honestly.
Draco sat up, utterly serious. “And if it is?”
Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Then Potter is in danger and so are we.”
Getting to his feet, Draco shook his head. “I know Harry's magic. I've felt it.
There's nothing wrong with it.”
“But what if there is a connection, small and hard to notice? We need to know,
Draco.”
Draco hooked his bangs behind his ears. He stood for a moment in thought,
ignoring the way Lucius was watching him, waiting. He wondered what Lucius
knew. Did he suspect like Draco did that the Dark Lord was not dead? The idea
that that monster would somehow be able to touch inside his boy made him see
red.
“Alright.” He shot Lucius a hard glare. “We'll see what he says, but I'll be
with Harry the entire time,” he warned and then stalked from the room.
Lucius decided to stay and finish his drink. He'd need it.
Chapter end.
A/N:Can you guess the 'talented student' who Lord Greengrass is talking about?
Also, it's down to the wire now. I'm going to have to commit to a Magical Core
Specialist next chapter.


 
***** Unspeakable *****
A/N:If you are interested in art for this story, keep checking Freedom_Found_in
Chains_–_Fanart by Pixi56. Pixi adds new pictures to the same chapter
frequently, so you should check on it once in awhile. It really is amazing! :D
                                  Unspeakable
Lucius and Draco stood in the receiving room together, awaiting the magical
core specialist. Nerves were attacking Lucius, making him feel like he was
racing head long on a broom. Draco, on the other hand, looked looked perfectly
calm.
“Remember, this wizard is an Unspeakable with the Department of Mysteries,”
Lucius warned his son. Heart beating strong, stomach warm from the whisky, he
stood ready for anything. “They don't like to be questioned. He likely won't
even give us his name.”
Draco would do what he had to do, including asking questions, so he ignored
Lucius and studied the painting of a no-doubt long ago Malfoy who was watching
him back.
Lucius sighed and straightened his robes. The fire flared green and he quickly
stood straight. Draco, meanwhile, leaned against the wall next to the
fireplace. He'd placed himself there purposefully. While Lucius stood in the
center of the room to greet the wizard, Draco, at the wizard's back, would have
time to observe this person before letting them near Harry. Except it wasn't a
wizard.
“Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” Lucius greeted the woman. There was no surprise
evident in his face or tone despite having expected a man. “I appreciate your
time. You came very highly recommended.”
The woman was dressed in plain black robes and shook Lucius's hand firmly. She
had white-gold hair in a wrist-thick braid falling down her back to her hips.
Her boots were plain and short-heeled, and she stood with very straight
posture. From the back, she could have been a Malfoy.
“Why exactly were my services requested?” she asked, words clear yet her voice
quiet, neither high nor low.
Lucius gave a cool smile. “My son has formed a rare twin bond. I'd like you to
analyze the bond and help us determine the possible effects and costs,” he
answered simply. It was best not to get straight into the 'I think my son's
bonded is possessed' quiet yet.
Draco placed her as shorter than Narcissa and only slightly taller than
Lucius's shoulders, and she was too skinny as if she often skipped meals.
However, she didn't seem small. There was power and self-control in her bearing
that made her seem larger than she was. She used very little extra movements,
keeping mostly still.
“This is my son, Draco,” Lucius told her and gestured to the boy behind her.
The woman turned. She had pale skin, even paler eyebrows, and large blue eyes.
She was too exotic to be pretty. She had owl-like blue eyes, a small nose and
tiny lips. Her cheekbones were high and angular. As Draco studied her, he
impressed that she didn't smile or make small talk like most people did when
they first met. She just quietly watched him back.
Pushing off the wall, he stepped forward into her personal space. “Can you tell
the difference between someone's magic and something else's in someone you just
met?”
Lucius frowned from over the witch's shoulder, but Draco ignored him, keeping
most of his attention on the woman.
“Is that what you need me to do?” she asked calmly.
“Maybe.” Draco shrugged. “I'll get Harry.”
Lucius felt his shoulders relax as his son left the room. Draco was accepting
her. He offered the woman a cool smile. “If you would be so kind as to offer me
a vow of secrecy?”
She regarded him for a long moment. “Under what terms?”
“That you will not reveal the information you gain regarding my son or his
bonded while you work with them,” Lucius answered, eyebrow raised in challenge.
“I will keep your son's and his bonded's identity secret, but should anything I
learn help me pursue further knowledge, then I may have to reveal certain
details.”
Lucius did not like it that she was not submitting easily to the vow, but the
image of thick, oily black smoke spilling from Harry's wide-open mouth and
forming into a massive black and green snake forced his hand. “Very well. I
agree to those terms.”
He lifted his wand and cast the spell. The woman calmly swore to keep secret
the identity of Draco Malfoy and his bonded if she ever had to communicate what
she learned while working with them.
Lucius was very unsatisfied, but there was nothing to be done. “Follow me. I
believe the sitting room would be more comfortable for something like this.”
The woman said nothing as she followed him, and they reached the sitting room
quickly.
Narcissa sat perched in one of the armchairs in a simple and yet elegant pale
blue floor-length dress. Her hair was tied in its customary knot and she
offered the woman a polite smile as they entered the room. Lucius moved to
stand at her side and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. The
boys were sitting in their customary position, side-by-side on the couch.
Green eyes behind black-framed glasses and under a mop of black hair stared up
at the woman from a slight angle, posture timid. Draco sat tall, staring at the
woman head on. His hair softly framed his face, his grey eyes sharp and alert.
“Harry Potter,” the woman said softly, still standing in the doorway as she
took in the scene. “I understand better your mysteriousness, Mr. Malfoy,” she
said with a smile, eyes cutting to Lucius for a moment before returning to the
children.
“You must not have read the papers,” he remarked, eyebrow cocked. “Draco's
return and his bond to Mr. Potter is major news right now.”
“I've been involved with research and my own family as of late,” she dismissed
not bothering to look at him and stepped further into the room. She met Draco's
eyes and asked, “Are you afraid his magic is inside you? Is that what you need
me to determine?”
Draco laughed and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him more
tightly against him. “I already know his magic is in me, and mine is in him.
What I want to know is if our magic is the only magic inside him.” He snaked
his hand up into Harry's hair, causing Harry to relax and his eyes to half-
close.
The woman tilted her head curiously as she watched the boys interact.
“Interesting.” She lifted her hand and slowly moved it side-to-side in a wavy
pattern in front of her. “I have some sensitivity to magic. It helps me in my
studies on the source of magic, and I can only sense one signature from the two
of you. There's definitely a bond in place.” Her hand returned to her side, and
she strode across the room to sit in the chair across from the children.
Harry's green eyes opened more as he watched her curiously. She gave him a
small, genuine smile. It softened her face, made her look younger, and Draco
relaxed a little more, approving of her gentle approach with Harry. He also
liked how she was talking to them and not his parents since it was his magic
and bond they were discussing. He gave her his undivided attention.
The woman seemed unbothered by his intense focus, and in fact became more
animated as she spoke, her pale cheeks flushing pink. “In large part, magic is
still a mystery. It is unsubstantial in and of itself, but it can somehow
produce measurable and substantial effects on all planes of existence. I've
been studying the magical core in all kinds of magical beings in an attempt to
unravel some of magic's mysteries, and magical bonds have naturally come under
study during the course of my career. Bonds are as unique as the people who
form them, but there are common behaviors that allow for classification and
further analysis. I will be able to tell you how your magic functions together
and even give you insight on how that will effect your use of magic as well as
your relationship.”
Draco felt a sharp pang in his chest and held Harry tighter to him.
Harry looked up at Draco's face, so close to his own, – grief love – falling
like rain through the bond. He whispered, “Jess?”
Draco felt his throat tighten. Yes, the woman was so much like Jess, and he had
to mentally shove away the jumble of emotion as thoughts of Liam, Drey, and
Jess tumbled through his mind. He gave Harry a brief hug, comforted by the fact
Harry knew without having to ask and shared his sense of loss.
“What do you need us to do?” he asked, voice raspier than normal, forcing him
to clear his throat.
The woman turned her attention to Lucius and Narcissa. Her features hardened
into the exotic, wide-eyed Unspeakable once more. “I know it might be
discomforting, but I will need to work alone with the boys. I'm going to need
to be fully focused on the magic and can't afford to be distracted.”
Draco released Harry to lean forward. “Is this dangerous?”
“Working with magic is always dangerous,” she answered him seriously. “Even the
smallest spells can be unpredictable at times. But yes. There is a small chance
our magics are incompatible and we might see a flare up. It is likely the room
will be damaged if that happens, but from my experience, I am the one most
likely to be hurt or targeted if such a thing were to occur.”
“Are you certain this is necessary?” Narcissa cut in, looking up at her stone-
faced husband.
Lucius glanced down at her, voice and expression remote. “Yes. I feel it is.”
He turned from her, waiting for Draco's decision. He knew if he pushed it, his
son would rebel and the Unspeakable would likely be hurt. This had to be of
Draco's free will.
Draco gave a firm nod. “Yes. Let's do this.”
The woman stood. “If you would take me to your room? It's where you will be the
most relaxed and comfortable.”
Draco shrugged and stood, taking Harry's hand in his. He didn't bother looking
back at Lucius and Narcissa, but Harry did, smiling and giving them a wave.
Narcissa smiled back. She waited a few seconds to be sure they were out of
hearing range before catching Lucius's hand and forcing him to look at her.
“Lucius, I understand the mind healer. Draco was completely destroyed by
that... attack... he had in the Ministry. However, I don't understand your
insistence on a magical core specialist. To invite an Unspeakable here... What
are you hoping to achieve?”
Lucius pulled away and moved to stand in front of her. His expression and voice
turned cold, bringing fear into her eyes. “If I thought for one second I could
separate Mr. Potter from our son, I would, but I am not ignorant to the fact
that at this point it would kill Draco. A more expert opinion on the
composition of the bond and Potter's magic cannot hurt. If it should happen to
reveal an escape for our son...”
“Why?” Narcissa asked him desperately, tears in her eyes. “Why are you so set
against them? Is it because of their relationship?”
“It is because Potter is tainted!” Lucius roared, fists clenched. “How can you
be so blind, Narcissa?”
Narcissa furiously dashed a hand across her eyes. How dare he yell at her?
Standing, she met him glare for glare. “I'll have you know I already love that
boy, and I have seen no taint in him.” Cruelly, she threw words in his face
like weapons: “You have a history of bad judgement when it counts, Lucius. You
were wrong to grovel to that madman, and you're wrong about Harry.”
Face red with rage, Lucius practically shook with anger. “How dare you!”
Fearlessly, Narcissa lifted her chin. “I dare because you are wrong! You had
better erase separating those boys from your mind. Nothing will part them,
Lucius. Nothing! It is a waste of time and energy to even try! You'd do better
by accepting Harry for who he is. Try calling him by name instead of Potter.
Because if you don't...” She gave him a shove with her wand hand. “You won't
have anything left to protect.”
“He might harbor the Dark Lord's soul,” Lucius whispered hatefully, eyes
narrowed into angry slits. “Potter's life will burn away as the Dark Lord grows
stronger, and then Potter will die and it will be the Lord you hate so much
looking out from his eyes. What of Draco then, Narcissa! What then?”
She felt cold at those words, but she met his eyes and answered, “Then I will
enjoy the time I do have with him as much as I can.” Even more softly, she
added. “With both of them. Because Draco will not remain without Harry.”
Lucius turned and exploded one of the chairs with a roar before turning back to
face his wife. “You'd give up on our son!”
Narcissa rallied, raising her voice to match his. “I answered your stupid
question, Lucius! If that came to pass, that is what I would do! However! I
plan to work with Draco to make sure such a future never comes to pass! While
you spin uselessly, focusing on solutions that will have the same result, with
Draco dead or gone, I will work on solutions that save Harry. Did you even give
such a strategy a single thought?” Disgusted, she tossed her head with a
vicious sneer. “You're frightened, Lucius, and that's made you weak and blind!”
Lucius swung his hand around in a vicious slap. The sound of his palm meeting
her face was loud and sent her tumbling off her feet to sprawl dazed on the
ground. Her hair fell lose, spilling over her shoulders. Voice dropped to a
near hiss, Lucius spat. “I'm not blind, Cissa. I saw what could be in him while
you were blinded by your desperation to play mummy. So while you dwell in
happily ever afters, I'm going to deal with hard reality.”
Sprawled on the ground, Narcissa gasped for air, shaken by pain and shock. Her
hand trembled as it cupped her cheek.
Lucius coldly reached down, grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet,
ignoring her fearful cry. He pushed her at the couch and she collapsed on it.
“If Potter's soul is contaminated, the Dark Lord would have had nearly six
years to take root. There will be no saving that boy. I will not allow Draco to
die with him.”
“And if the Unspeakable has a different explanation?” she challenged, crying.
Lucius grabbed her by the hair, ignoring her flinch, and put his face close to
hers. “If the Unspeakable can explain the boy's use of Parseltongue and the
ability to conjure a snake wandlessly and non-verbally in some other way, I am
prepared to hear it. That is why she is here. However, I will not be mocked or
derided for preparing for the worst, Narcissa. You may play nice with the boy
all you wish. I don't expect you to be capable of making the hard choices, but
rest assured I will do whatever it takes to ensure my son's survival.”
Releasing her with a short shove, he straightened his robes and left her there,
weeping softly.
                                       …
Draco smiled as he watched Harry show the woman around their rooms.
“And this is the toy closet,” he was saying. “There's so many!”
“Very nice selection,” she complimented, her long white-blond braid swinging as
she turned.
Smiling, Harry led her to the bedroom door, Draco following behind them. “This
is our room, and the clothes Narcissa bought us, and the bathroom.”
She nodded along and eventually they ended the tour by the bed. Draco hopped up
to sit on the edge and held his hand out. Harry took it immediately and jumped
up to sit next to them. They looked up at the woman expectantly.
“May I sit?” she asked with a smile.
Draco gave a nod and approved when she sat at the very foot of the bed, a few
feet from them.
“My name is Pandora Lovegood,” she began, large blue eyes blinking slowly. “I
went to Hogwarts and was sorted Ravenclaw. I fell in love with a very unusual
man. His name is Xenophilius Lovegood. He is the chief editor and owner of the
magazine The_Quibbler. He's a bit misunderstood,” she admitted, a loving smile
curling her lips. “But I don't think he tries to be otherwise. He was also
sorted Ravenclaw, to my House's chagrin. ”
Draco cocked his head. “Why are you telling us this? Isn't it secret?”
Folding her hands in her lap, Pandora patiently explained. “Our magics will be
touching, and it's best for you not to feel threatened. If you know more about
who I am, it will help our chances of being able to work together.”
“That makes sense.” He looked thoughtfully over at Harry, his hair falling
gently around his face from behind his ears. “I guess you'll need to know that
Harry's mine, then.”
Pandora's brow crinkled just slightly as she watched Draco reverently touch the
collar at the smaller boy's throat. Harry smiled and leaned into the blond's
side. Her expression cleared as understanding dawned, but Draco could see a
little bit of unease as she answered, “I see.”
“We were slaves for a while, but then we escaped.” He didn't look at her as he
spoke, instead returning his attention to his boy. “I've been looking after
Harry ever since.”
“It looks like you're doing a fine job,” she acknowledged, taking in Harry's
calm, happy expression.
Draco smiled proudly, running his hands into Harry's hair and gripping.
“Harry's a good boy. He heals me. He's always healed me.”
Harry blushed and ducked his head at the praise.
Pandora sat there for a long moment, and Draco let her think about what she'd
been told. Eventually, she spoke, saying, “I have a daughter. She turned six
this February. She's a delight to teach, a little of both of us in her. I love
her very much. Her name is Luna.”
“Moon?” Harry asked, green eyes gazing up at her.
“Very good,” Pandora praised, eyes sparkling. “That is correct. It means moon.”
Harry grinned.
“So what do you need us to do?” Draco cut in, ready to get things started.
“If you could lie side-by-side...” Pandora stood and came to stand next to the
bed. She pulled her wand out of a sheath strapped on her hip. It was light
brown and longer than a ruler.
Draco pulled Harry up with him so they could lay their heads on the pillow. He
took the outside edge, placing himself between Harry and Pandora out of habit.
He didn't trust anyone, but something about her set Draco at ease and he wasn't
too worried.
When she spoke, her voice was liquid smooth. “Close your eyes. I want us to
fall into a trance. You will be aware the entire time, but not so aware of the
outside... We need to go inside... Where the deepest parts of magic rests... We
want to sink down deep and feel out the shape and flow of that force... We need
to go down and meet it where it begins... Down... deep down... where the magic
is...”
Chapter end.
A/N: I'm dying to know what you think about my choice of Pandora Lovegood as
the magical core specialist.
I'm also interested in your thoughts on my portrayal of Lucius. He's been a
tricky one to write.
 
***** Infinity Loop *****
                                 Infinity_Loop
Magic always felt flexible, always moving. Sometimes as insubstantial as smoke,
slow and graceful, or as congealed as water, flowing as strong as a river, but
magic was never more solid than water. As Pandora sank deep into the trance,
she felt the two children's magic throb and pulse. It bubbled up from beneath
the surface and poured into her mind.
A pungent, woody smell, the scent of amber, as a steady river of magic rushed
around her. It was gritty against her skin, hooks and barbs scattered
throughout the cooling water. The few she could see as they passed were blood-
stained, and she knew intuitively that the child's magic was called to blood: a
hemopath. Rare and carrying a dark social stigma, hemopaths had nonetheless
been incredibly powerful in centuries past.
She felt it now, a pull. The forest green river bent, and, in its wake, dark
golden umber followed. There was a sense of freedom in the umber's blind rush,
following the path of the green, but also a sense of free fall. As if the umber
river had no bed, a rootless tsunami that could destroy all around it and then
wash away into nothingness and death. But instead the umber was locked on the
path of the green, pulled and guided, controlled.
Bright, pure gold sparkled in ripples along the umber's surface. It was the
most beautiful color Pandora had ever seen. There was infinite kindness there
and true unconditional love. A metallic taste on the back of her tongue, it
sparkled and shimmered like the effervescent bubbles in a soda. Against her
legs, the occasional whipcord body of a snake brushed gently against her skin.
Long ago, the very first healers were Parselmouths. Forgotten by many,
Parselmouths were the source of the Healer's symbol: a snake winding up a
knotted staff. This magic meant to heal and protect like the days of old.
Paired with a hemopath, it was beautifully poetic. Two perfect pieces fitting
together the way only nature could manage: a cosmic pairing. No wonder their
bond formed as quickly and strongly as it had. Some would say it was destiny.
The umber river curved, and she could feel the deep green coming, a seamless
infinity loop... There! Pandora felt something red and black, not dark gold or
green. Something that didn't belong. She dove after it. Pushed through the
umber, letting herself be carried by the current.
Like driftwood, burnt and mangled, the piece of black was pulled along on the
gold's current. Pandora approached cautiously. The metallic taste became
distinctly rust-flavored as she approached. Corruption and decay, she
nonetheless felt some life pulsing weakly within the black husk. She carefully
studied how it was attached to the river. Slender strands sank deep beneath the
surface, but they weren't wide enough to contaminate the water. Black didn't
seem to be leaking or spilling into the gold, just holding on, looming.
Pandora took a deep breath and hardened her own magic into as solid a shape as
she could, then she reached out and touched one of the connecting strands...
Horrific screams tore through her mind; the tortured sound of nature twisted
into the unnatural.
Pandora fell away with a cry of sheer revulsion. Shaken, terrified, she curled
up and let the gold rush away. Let the green crash around her. The waters were
choppier, disturbed by her reaction. She felt the barbs prick her skin along
her arms and back. Felt tiny streamers of her magic bleed away. The river
roared around her.
She went limp, submitting under the suddenly violent force of the green river.
Tumbling and spinning beneath its furious waves, she deliberately reached out
and caught a handful of barbs, cutting her palm and bleeding magic out into the
deadly storm.
* Do not attack. Not yet. The gold is not being tainted. The connection is
tenuous, but it is solid. Breaking the connection can be done, but must be done
carefully, so as not to cause a rupture. *She added an image of the golden-
flecked umber river stained by pools of pitch black.
Screaming a battle cry, the green churned and thrust up with violent force.
Pandora collapsed, falling on her butt next to their massive bed. She was damp
with sweat and panting hard. The tiny cuts on her arms and back stung. Looking
up at the side of the bed, she saw Draco sitting with deceptive calm, looking
down at her with his eyes a bright silver.
“You will find a way to break the connection,” the little boy stated, voice
cold.
“Yes,” she promised, still unable to catch her breath. She had expended more
magic than she had expected to. Reaching to her wrist, she pulled off a charm
from the bracelet that was there. She felt the pull of the portkey and gave
herself to unconsciousness.
                                       …
Harry stared up at the ceiling, breath coming in short gasps. The sense of the
black thing, the vile corruption clinging to him, Pandora's horrified reaction
and Draco's terrible anger, shattered his mind. The familiar feeling of black
filth oozing from his skin, his eyes, his mouth overcame him. Draco touched
him, grabbed his wrist – TERROR! SELF-HATRED! – Harry flung himself away with a
desperate scream.
Draco lunged, but he was just a second too slow. Harry scrambled off the bed
and bolted into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and turning the
lock. Draco hit the door, his heart beating hard, and heard a deafening crash
as glass shattered.
- desperation revulsion despair -
“Harry!” Draco roared, furious and afraid. “Open the door Right NOW!”
“I WON'T LET IT HURT YOU!” Harry screamed, high-pitched and hysterical.
Cold power swept through Draco's core. Viciously, he bit into his hand between
thumb and forefinger, cutting through skin and making blood gush. It splattered
wetly on the floor and onto the door as he slapped it onto the wood.
Instantly, the door began to smoke. Draco applied pressure, pushing his hand
through to the other side. His fingers were soaked with blood and he had to
scrabble for a long second at the door handle before he finally got it
unlocked. Draco yanked his hand back through the hole he'd made and flung the
door open.
The mirror had been shattered; broken glass littered the countertop and floor.
Harry stood in the corner, his back to the wall, eyes dark and tormented. His
face was pale, and his chest rose and fell in rapid little gasps. Blood tickled
down the boy's wrists from his cut palms as he held a big piece of glass about
four inches wide and nine long to his throat above his collar.
“Evil... filthy... freak... fucking die, demon... Draco maledicte et omnis...
legio diabolica... adiuramus te...” Harry babbled, completely lost – despair
fear painpainpain.
“HARRY!” Draco barked.
The boy jumped, startled. Seeing Draco, he shook his head, inadvertently
nicking his throat. “No, don't. Draco, no. Don't come. Cursed! Evil!” He backed
away blindly, stumbling slightly, and Draco was terrified he'd fall and hurt
himself.
“What's around your throat, Harry!” He yelled, beyond furious, beyond afraid.
“I put that collar on you! You're MINE!”
Harry gasped and froze, tears spilling fast and furious.
Draco moved forward, pinning Harry with his stare. “Did I tell you to hurt
yourself, Harry?” he snarled. “Did you really just lock a door between me and
my boy?”
“Draco...” Harry gasped – terror denial confusion agony.
“Drop. The. Glass. NOW!”
Harry's hand spasmed open immediately. The glass cracked and clattered onto the
hard tile floor. “Draco...” he rasped desperately, sobbing. “Please... I'm
evil, Draco... filthy freak...”
Draco stood panting, mind nearly drowning in the pain and insanity flowing from
Harry's soul. He'd almost lost Harry tonight. The boy had been a second away
from killing himself. To destroy the evil inside him, to protect Draco from the
vile magic that had been attached to his soul, Harry had been about to cut his
own throat.
- He watched, lost in the fog of his own pain, as one of the Brats fought the
others away from the bread. With dead, dark eyes, the little boy stuffed more
and more into his mouth. Not to eat, even though they were always hungry, but
to die. He pushed the bread down his throat desperately until he began to
choke.
Draco did nothing as the child eventually fell sideways, face going red and
blotchy. His body jerked a few times, arched upward in a spasm. The others were
crying, cowering away from the dying kid. Not one of them tried to stop what
was happening.
In minutes, it was over.
The boy was dead.
The others looked away, turned their backs, cried. Draco's never did. He stared
into that kid's distorted, dead face for long seconds before he reached down
and grabbed the boy's wrist.
He dragged the boy's limp body up the stairs. It felt heavier than it should.
Draco pulled and strained, listening to the hollow thunk as they went up each
step. With a sneer of disgust, he let the kid's arm fall limp and left the body
in front of the door with the trash. -
Harry's face superimposed over the face of that long ago boy in the Hold, and
Draco felt sick.
Harry was so full of life and goodness and emotion. He worked so hard and loved
Draco so much. All of that would be gone. No more holding hands, or kissing, or
eating together. No more laughing. No more pleasure, no more happiness. Draco
would be utterly and completely alone. Worse, he'd have no reason to exist.
What would be the point without Harry?
Draco lashed out and grabbed Harry by the throat, pinning him against the wall,
the collar digging into his palm. “I think you've forgotten who you belong to.”
His nimble fingers darted in toward the top of Harry's blue shorts and grab
onto the belt buckle. It took only a second for Draco to work Harry's belt open
and yank it off.
- shock desperation confusion need painpainpain -Harry was sobbing, whole body
shaking, but he didn't resist as Draco belted his wrists together and pulled
him from the bathroom by the make-shift leash.
Draco gave Harry a firm shove and pushed him onto the bed. Dragging the boy up
so he was on the bed fully, Draco planted his knees on either side of Harry's
hips, still holding the long end of the belt in his hand. How could be make
sure this didn't happen again?
What can I do? Draco thought, mind racing desperately for the answer they
needed.
And then he remembered...
-He lay nearly senseless as waves of pain pounded down on him again and again
and again. He was on his stomach, gasping despairingly through his tears. His
throat was so raw from screaming all that escaped him were hoarse moans.
“...give you a tat. Mark you permanently...”
Draco arched weakly away from the knife as it dug even more deeply and scrapped
bone. “Please...” he groaned...“please...” Trapped on his stomach, the master
sitting on his thighs, the sheets turning red under him. The knife sliced
through torn, bruised skin again and again.
“Put a hawk right here.” The blade wiggled sickeningly under his skin. Draco
croaked, hands twisting in the sheet. “Put it there so you'd never forget
you're mine...”
The knife peeled a strip of skin from his shoulder blade, and Draco managed an
agonized whine before blacking out... -
“Dobby!”
The elf appeared instantly, his smile melting into one of fear as he took in
Harry's bleeding hands and Draco's coldly furious expression. “Young master!”
Draco shot the elf a look over his shoulder, hair falling across his sweat-
dampened face. “Attach this to the bed frame!” he demanded, holding up the
belt.
Dobby snapped his fingers and the end of the belt lashed out of Draco's hands.
The violent move yanked Harry's hands over his head, splattering blood over
Draco, Harry's chest and face, and the bedspread.
“No! Please! No, Draco! Gonna hurt you!” the boy screamed, head thrashing
wildly, tears falling in a torrent.
Palm stinging, Draco sat back on Harry's thighs and pulled on the belt to make
sure it was truly secure. It didn't move. He gave Harry a grin and, ignoring
the screams, and the hurricane of– self-loathing terror –he slipped off the bed
and strode calmly to the closet.
“Young Master Harry, it be okay!” Dobby pleaded.
“Don't talk to him!” Draco barked, coming out of the closet with another belt
in hand. “Stand quietly in the corner. I don't want to hear you or see you
unless I give you an order!”
Eyes wide as tennis balls, the elf slunk into the corner obediently and wrung
his ears.
Draco yanked Harry's feet together, looping the belt around the boy's ankles
and pulling it tight. Harry lay nearly senseless: babbling, pleading, crying.
“Attach it to the frame,” Draco ordered again. He was prepared this time, so
the belt didn't hurt him when it snapped out of his hand and became one with
the bed frame. With an oomph, Harry was pulled taunt, unable to move, lying
parallel to the footboard and headboard.
Draco jumped back onto the bed and sat next to the sobbing boy. He took in the
thin arms stretched above Harry's head - the sweat-damp, tangled black hair -
the pale face scrunched with distress and wet with tears - the thin throat
encircled by a black collar and the single shallow cut on the right side - the
white, short-sleeved button down covering the thin, heaving chest - the blue
shorts and thin, pale legs - and finally – the small, white-socked feet.
“You gave yourself to me, Harry,” Draco reminded, reaching forward to run his
hands down the buttons of Harry's shirt. “You no longer belong to yourself. You
don't get to decide to leave or stay. That's my decision now.”
Green eyes wide, Harry stared up at Draco with - despair fear self-hate.
White teeth flashed as Draco gave a predatory grin. He pinched off the top
button of Harry's shirt, causing the brunet to whimper. “You're not going
anywhere, Harry.” Another button was yanked off. A third, and the shirt fell
open enough to expose a hint of Harry's pink nipples.
“D-Draco...” Harry sobbed, going limp – confusion need desperation.
Draco leaned down and put his face close to Harry's, drinking in the boy's raw
expression. “There's nothing in you I can't handle.” Without moving, without
looking, he pinched Harry's nipple hard between his fingers.
Harry's mouth fell open on a gasp, his chest arching up into Draco's painful
touch.
“Every inch, Harry. Every inch of you is mine. It's not up to you anymore.”
Draco sat up and continued to pull of the shirt's buttons until it fell open,
exposing Harry's chest. The boy's left nipple was already swollen and red.
Draco smiled, soaking in the sudden – anticipation relief need –that flooded
from the boy.
Harry didn't have to worry. He didn't have to fear that his demon and filth
would hurt Draco. Draco was strong and good and powerful. He could handle
Harry. And Draco would make the decision on if Harry stays or goes. It wasn't
up to him. The relief Harry felt went soul deep. It was as if the weight of the
world was lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe again.
“Draco... please...”
Draco stared into the sweet expression of his boy and leaned down, pressing his
mouth to Harry's. He licked and sucked until Harry began to moan, then he
thrust his tongue forward with violent force. He licked along the roof of
Harry's mouth, pressing his tongue along Harry's teeth. The boy arched against
him, moaning into the dominating kiss.
Pulling away with a wet smack, Draco trailed his lips over Harry's chin and
down his neck to the thick leather collar. He sucked it into his mouth, wetting
it and making it warm. Harry tossed his head back, submitting.
* Mine, *Draco growled, biting down hard.
Harry gave a cry of pain as Draco's teeth pinched and bruised, but he didn't
flinch or make a move to escape. His eyes were bright, his lips red and
swollen, his cheeks flushed with pleasure.
Draco sat up once more and grabbed Harry's jaw in a painful grip, forcing their
eyes to meet and hold. “I'm going to make sure you don't forget ever again,
Harry. That you're mine. You don't get to lock doors or hurt yourselfor try to
leave me!” he hissed, still furious. “You belong tome!”
“Please! Draco, sorry, please, love you,” Harry babbled as Draco released his
face and slipped from the bed.
Dobby cowered as Draco's cold eyes landed on him and asked him an unexpected
question. His eyes grew even wider as he answered, “Dobby can do it, Master
Draco! But Dobby will need to cut into the skin... It will hurt Master Harry!”
“He can take it,” Draco answered, crossing his arms and staring down at the
creature. “Get what you need. You have five minutes. I want it to be perfect!”
Dobby disappeared with a pop.
Turning to Harry, Draco gently ran his fingertips down Harry's chest and looked
deeply into the boy's wide-green eyes. “I'm gonna put something on you that you
can't take off. Something more permanent than the collar. Something that makes
you mine. And it's gonna hurt, Harry.”
Harry's expression softened even as his eyes grew brighter- desire need joy.
Smiling, eyes half-closing, Draco whispered, “Good boy,” and kissed him again.
Dobby returned with little glass jars. He looked nervous, but his hands were
steady. Draco allowed the creature to sit next to Harry on the other side.
Ignoring the elf as he set up, Draco opened Harry's shorts. Dobby vanished
Harry's underwear when asked, leaving the boy exposed.
Draco caught and held Harry's eyes again. Blonde hair falling around his face,
he looked fierce. “Say it,” he ordered. “You know what I want to hear.”
Green eyes fierce, Harry spoke, voice thick and raspy, “I belong to Draco.”
Draco grinned, all sharp teeth and dominating eyes, a little devil. “Keep
saying it. Don't stop 'til I say you can.”
“I belong to Draco,” Harry obeyed. His heart was beating a mile a minute. He
had no idea what was going to happen. He knew it would hurt, but it would make
him Draco's permanently. He wanted it so badly, he almost couldn't breathe. “I
belong to Draco.”
“Good boy,” Draco praised, stroking Harry's lower stomach. “You hurt me, Harry.
By not trusting me to handle you.” He showed the boy his bleeding hand. Harry's
eyes went wide in – horror! “I expect you to fix it. I expect you to fix your
hands, too. Because they are mine, and you hurt them.”
“I belong to Draco,” Harry whimpered, - grief regret.
Draco offered Harry his bleeding hand. The boy lifted his head, putting his
mouth on the bleeding bite as soon as he possibly could, and immediately
beginning to lick and suck. Warmth throbbed through Draco, spiking up his arm
and settling into his gut.
“Good boy,” he purred, eyes heavy. “Good. Now I'm gonna make you mine.” Keeping
his hand at Harry's mouth, he bent down to lick and suck between Harry's legs.
- shock pleasure need -“I belong to Draco,” he moaned, eyes slipping closed,
only to slam open as something painfully hot seared into his side. Harry
screamed. He would have jerked away, but he was held immobile by his wrists and
ankles.
Eyes swimming, Harry put trembling lips back on Draco's hand, arching as the
heat of Draco's mouth slid against him again and again, sucking, licking,
sending him flying. “I belong to Draco!”
Draco watched Harry's body go tight through black-ringed vision. His body was
on fire as pleasure/pain poured down the bond in a torrent. Harry's taste
flooded his mouth; the boy's legs trembling under his hands. He thrust
desperately against the mattress, everything coiling tighter and tighter.
“I belong to Draco!”
Through the static of Harry's emotions, Draco's eyes never left the hands of
the elf. The creature moved with inhumane grace. Long fingers gentle and
precise as he made Harry bleed. Draco was worried at first that Harry's gasping
breaths and heaving chest would make it hard for the elf to work, but the
creature moved with the boy as if he were riding a wave.
“I belong to Draco!”
The bond burned like molten lava. Hot, everything was hot. Harry's side burned
so fiercely, the searing pain nearly shook him apart. Between his legs the wave
after wave of heat and tongue and wet, making him moan and rock. Drenched in
sweat, lost in all the sensations, Harry screamed and babbled his mantra: “I
belong to Draco!”
                                       …
Draco pulled his head off of Harry's lap. The boy was limp, completely passed
out, chest still heaving. Color had leached from Draco's vision, and his whole
body throbbed from the intense orgasm, but he refused to faint. Numbly, he took
in the bleeding, raw flesh of his boy's side.
“It will look better when it heals, Master Draco,” Dobby whimpered.
Draco ignored him, carefully moving up Harry's body to check the boy's hands.
The palms were scarred, but they were healed. He sank his hand – perfect with
not even a hint of a scar – into Harry's wild hair and collapsed next to him.
He pressed his face into Harry's neck.
“Take the belts off, Dobby,” he whispered and let the darkness wash over him.
                                       …
Harry blinked blurry eyes open. Long shadows filled the room, the sky orange
and pink outside the window. His arms felt stiff as he pulled them in close,
and he looked curiously at the dark black bruises on the outside of both
wrists. Rolling his ankles, he knew the bruises would be the same there.
He sat up, Draco's warm arm rolling across his chest into his lap. Scabbed, red
and swollen, Harry could make out the image of a silver dragon with what looked
like blue highlights curled above his right hip. It was about three inches long
and two tall. His skin burned and throbbed hotly even now, but Harry thrilled
in the pain. It told him the dragon was real. Draco had marked him just as he
promised.
“Don't touch it.” Draco was watching him through calm grey eyes, lying on his
side, head cradled by pillows. “It'll look better when it's healed. Dobby did a
good job.”
Harry looked down at Draco tearfully. The blond smiled and reached up to pull
his head down. Harry leaned into the kiss desperately, almost bursting with –
love gratitude joy.WhenDraco broke the kiss, he rolled them so that Harry was
on his back, looking up at him.
“I'm gonna take care of you, Harry. Don't ever run away from me again.”
“Draco...” Harry flung his arms around the blond's neck. “Love you! Yours!”
“Yes.” Smiling, Draco leaned down to nip at Harry's lips. “Mine. Forever.”
Chapter end.
A/N:Things escalated kind of quickly, but I feel like a breakdown was brewing
for a while now.
They now know Harry's got something of Voldemort hanging around. Lucius will
just love that.
Don't worry. We'll get back to the Malfoys next chapter. And it will be the
boy's first weekend with Andromeda, too!
 
***** At The Core *****
                                  At_The_Core
The sun was breaking the horizon when Lucius slipped quietly into the guest
room Narcissa had claimed as her own. She lay asleep, the spill of her long,
golden hair surrounding her as she lay on her back, one hand curled, palm up,
by her mouth. The soft roundness of her breasts lifted slowly and evenly under
her modest white nightgown, the covers bunched at her waist.
He knelt next to the bed on his knees and gently caressed her perfect cheek.
The redness was gone, but Lucius could still remember the heat of his palm
after the angry strike. It was the first time he'd ever hit her. He mourned the
loss of control and recognized that meant his fear was in control not his
rationality.
“Cissa, love...” he said softly, still touching her face.
Sleepy blue eyes blinked open. She took him in, kneeling beside her, for a
moment before carefully sitting up.
Lucius didn't bother moving. He remained where he was. “I am so sorry, Cissa.
I'm just so... lost,” he admitted, voice thick, and looked up into her eyes
entreatingly. “How can I help him? What can I do? He's bonded to a boy I fear
is lost to the Dark Lord. I... I can't endure it, Cissa. After all he's
suffered... My son, my only child... I cannot fail him again...”
Narcissa softened and reached for him. He desperately wrapped his arms around
her waist and held on as she lovingly stroked his hair. “We're going to be
okay, Lucius. The Dark Lord is gone, and even if he were to return, we are not
as we once were. We're older, smarter.”
Lucius tensed, unable to believe that.
“Hush,” she whispered. “You weren't wrong. I wanted everything to be okay so
desperately that I ignored certain things regarding Harry.” She tangled her
fingers in her husband's long hair, pulling his head back so he would look at
her. “You were right. Harry is in danger and, through him, Draco. We must do
something; we must plan. But! I was right as well. Harry and Draco are joined,
Lucius, as deeply as two people can be joined. We must work with that bond and
utilize its strength to free them both.” She took a deep breath, her expression
hardening into something resolute. “In return for the humiliation, fear, and
pain you dealt me, I want a magical oath as payment. When I call on it, you
will obey me against your own wishes.”
Lucius stared helplessly into her fierce expression. “I hear you, but I don't
take it as a good sign that the Unspeakable left without warning by portkey
yesterday afternoon and has yet to contact me.”
Narcissa released him, flinging off the covers, and getting to her feet. “You
tell me only now? Have you seen the boys?”
Lucius shook his head. “They haven't come out of their room. Dobby reports they
are recovering, so I've left them alone. If they do not come down for
breakfast, you should check on them. I'm going to see if I can contact the
Unspeakable.” He slowly climbed to his feet, white-blond hair sliding over his
shoulders.
Narcissa nodded. “Very well.” Then crossing her arms, she faced him head-on.
“The oath, Lucius.”
Drawing his wand, Lucius stared solemnly into his wife's eyes. Invoking his
magic, he cast a binding, promising to obey one command of hers when she called
on it or his magic could strike him dead. “Forgive me?” he asked when he
finished.
She stared into his tired grey eyes and relented. “Of course, Lucius. I said
things I shouldn't have. I was angry and afraid, but I should not have taken it
out on you. We need to work together.”
Lucius took her hand and gently laid a kiss on her knuckles.
Narcissa smiled softly as he slipped from the room as quietly as he'd come.
Perhaps there was hope for her family yet.
                                       …
Draco woke and immediately checked on Harry. His boy was sleeping on his left
side, facing away from him. The position was very unusual, Harry was such a
cuddler, but the reason he was not facing Draco was obvious. The new tattoo
sitting above his right hip still looked inflamed and tender, although more
detail was coming clear. Draco sat up and looked closely at the little dragon.
It had tiny silver scales along its triangular snake-like head that doubled in
size above the cat-like eyes to form two crests that rose off the back of its
head. Larger scales also pointed outward along its back and long tail,
reminding Draco of Harry's messy hair somehow. Probably because the scales
weren't in orderly roes but slightly jumbled and almost lying flat.
Two white-silver leathery wings curled upward like a bat's. It had four scaled
paws with three, multi-jointed talons on each. Its body was muscular and round,
also like a cat's. There were hints of blue in the shadows of the scales and
wings, but mostly the dragon was a pure silver-white. Its eyes, sitting on the
sides of its rounded face, were a deep, dark green - the color of Draco's magic
- which was only a shade or two darker than Harry's eyes, pale emerald in
color.
The little dragon was lying on its belly and chest with only its head lifted.
Draco frowned. He could have sworn the dragon was sleeping last night. He
watched carefully, but the creature didn't move. Suspicious, he called for
Dobby.
Harry woke as the elf arrived and tried to roll onto his back to see Draco, but
the blond held Harry in place with a hand on his waist.
“Dobby, does the tattoo move?”
“Yes, Master Draco,” the little elf whispered fearfully. “The ink was activated
by Dobby's magic when I's be putting it into Master Harry's skin.” Seeing
Draco's frown, he quickly added, “But it only bonds to yous and Master Harry's
magic, sir! Not mine!”
Draco thoughtfully ran his fingertips over the inflamed skin, but the dragon
didn't move, holding its position with eyes unblinking like a normal tattoo.
“Okay. I'll think about that later. For now...” He reached up and pressed three
fingers to Harry's lips.
Harry immediately opened his mouth, accepting them inside.
Draco hummed, stomach fluttering, as he pushed his fingers in and rubbed at
Harry's soft tongue. “I wanna see my dragon nice and clear, so you're gonna
heal it right up, okay, Harry?”
Harry licked and sucked as Draco gently thrust his fingers in and out of his
mouth, stretching his lips.
Draco pulled his fingers free, wet with spit, and rubbed them firmly against
the tattoo. Instantly, the red skin bleached white and the swelling
disappeared. The metallic colors of the silver dragon and the detail of each
scale sharpened. It looked so life-like.
“Draco...” Harry breathed, propping himself up on an elbow to see – joy pride
love.
“Draco means dragon. Now everyone will know you belong to me,” he said with a
smile, but it was short lived. He reached for Harry's free hand and touched the
dark bruises on the boy's wrist. His voice lowered with true anger. “I'm gonna
leave this to help you remember how angry I was when you tried to kill
yourself.” He stared hard into Harry's suddenly tearful gaze. “You almost took
from me what's mine.”
“Draco!” - regret anguish – Harry bit his lip, desperately wishing he could
erase the sad/angry look from Draco's dark grey eyes.
Draco broke their eye contact and bent to lick and suck at the silver dragon. *
Mine, *he growled. * My skin. My heart. Mylife. I'll swallow your darkness and
eat it because it's mine, too. If you ever hurt yourself again, Harry, I will
be very, very angry. Your pain is mine to give and mine to take. *
“I belong to Draco,” Harry vowed, arms falling limp and his head tilting back
on his pillow – submission regret love.
Draco lifted his head from the new tattoo and wiped tears from his face as he
grabbed Harry's wrist once more and bit into the bruise. * Love you, Harry. So
much. *
Harry whimpered, accepting the pain. “Love you, Draco. Sorry. So sorry. Never
leave you. Yours. I'm yours.”
Draco flung himself down on top of his boy, hugging him and pressing his face
against Harry's collared neck.
Dobby's voice lifted tentatively, “It be breakfast, young Masters.”
Draco sat up and scrubbed roughly at his face. “Get dressed,” he ordered,
moving to the closet to do just that.
Harry scrambled out of the bed after him, his hand reverently cupped over the
silver dragon. Unseen by the two boys, dark green eyes blinked once.
                                       …
Narcissa felt her shoulders relax as the boys stepped into the dinning room
hand-in-hand. She noticed the dark bruises on Harry's thin wrists and frowned.
“Good morning, Draco, Harry,” she greeted. “Are you well?”
Draco met her worried stare boldly, challenging her. “We're fine.”
Harry gave his normal sweet smile, head ducked shyly. “Good morning, Narcissa,
Mr. Malfoy.”
Narcissa chose not to push, at least not now. She wanted the boys to eat. They
were too thin as it was, and she didn't want to disturb their appetite. She
gave Lucius a warning look, but it wasn't pointless. Lucius would have his
answers.
“How did it go with the Unspeakable? Did you learn anything?” he asked. Draco's
expression went neutral. Harry ducked his head even further, using his messy
bangs to shield his face. Lucius's grip on his fork tightened, but he did his
best to affect an uncaring demeanor. “The woman left quite unexpectedly.”
“Eat,” Draco ordered, tapping his fork on Harry's plate. The boy obeyed, taking
another bite of eggs. Satisfied, Draco met Lucius's intense stare. “There is
something dark attached to Harry's core, but it's not connected enough to bleed
into his magic. The Unspeakable is certain it can be removed.”
Narcissa's breath caught in her throat. Fearing the Dark Lord had left
something in the child and having Draco confirm it were two vastly different
things. A part of her had thought it was Lucius's paranoia. She looked to her
husband to see he'd gone cold, his eyes hard. “That's good to hear,” she said
almost like a plea. “When can it be done?”
Draco took a bite of his food and gave a shrug. “She should be back soon to let
me know.”
Narcissa was at a loss as to what to say, so the rest of breakfast finished in
silence. Lucius excused himself as soon as he was done eating and disappeared,
likely to his office. Narcissa gave the boys a forced smile, determined to get
back to normal. “Are you ready for your lessons?”
                                       …
Pandora was re-routed to Lucius's office instead of the receiving room floo.
She almost walked into the man's massive desk and did a quick side-step. Calmly
brushing off her robes, she moved to face Lucius, who sat staring at her
through cold, desperate eyes. She waited for him to speak.
“I was disappointed by your departure yesterday,” he began.
She said nothing as he hadn't actually asked her anything.
With a dangerous glare, Lucius got to his feet. “What did you find?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss my clients,” Pandora stated simply.
Lucius saw red. “I am your client,” he hissed.
“No, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are,” she corrected, unimpressed. “I would
think you'd appreciate my confidentiality. I must speak with Draco, please. If
he chooses to allow you to stay, then you will hear all I know.”
Lucius practically stormed from the office. “Dobby! Bring the boys to the
sitting room!” he snarled. Once they reached the designated room, he went to
stand by the window.
Draco, Harry, and Narcissa arrived quickly. Lucius didn't bother to turn around
as he listened to them settle behind him.
“Thank you for coming,” Narcissa said politely.
Pandora inclined her head slightly, but otherwise didn't bother wasting time
with small talk. Her attention was on the boys as they took a seat on a couch,
side-by-side and holding hands. “Do I have permission to speak in front of your
guardians?”
Draco considered that, eyes moving from Narcissa's worried expression to
Lucius's tense back. In the end, he decided that they might be needed to free
Harry, and it wasn't like Lucius didn't already suspect the Dark Lord had left
traces in Harry. “Yes,” he finally answered.
She took a deep breath before speaking. “Draco, your magic is deeply rooted in
the natural world,” Pandora explained, standing perfectly still and looking
softly into his eyes. “When people think of nature, usually they think of
sunsets or beautiful scenery, but that's only one moment, a glimpse. Yes, you
have a great capacity to nurture, which you evidence in your deep bond with
Harry, but nature in truth is brutal.”
Lucius turned from the window with a frown. “What are you saying?”
Pandora glanced at him, but then returned her attention to the boy. “Nature is
all about survival, competition, and consumption. In order for something to
live, something must die. I'm sure you're aware of this at some level, Draco,
but I want to emphasize the point. You can't forget that most people refuse to
see this truth, and you need to be careful who you let see your magic in its
true form, for your magic is Dark.”
Narcissa and Lucius didn't even blink. The Malfoys and Blacks produced more
Dark wizards than Neutral. Both of them were born with Dark cores.
“So what?” Draco demanded, scowling. He hated when other people knew more about
him than he did.
Pandora quickly explained. “Not all wizards are born with Dark cores, and so
they corrupt and mutilate their magic in order to turn it Dark.” She shook her
head sadly, her long, thick braid sliding along her back. “They do not realize
that Dark is something one is born to and all they accomplish is to turn it
Black, twisted and terrible. Unfortunately, the general populace has come to
believe that Black magic is the same as Dark magic. People have come to fear
and revile it. If the wrong person in this intolerant time were to see your
core, you could be imprisoned or stripped of your magic.”
Draco felt a spike of aggression. He'd like to see someone try and lock him up
again. The feelings of the dark Hold trembled on the edges of his mind, making
his breath come faster.
Harry's hand tightened around Draco's, brows scrunched behind his glasses. “But
Draco's amazing!”
Draco gave a sharp smile, looking dead in Pandora's eyes. “I'll be fine, Harry.
Don't worry.”
“We'll be sure of it,” Lucius vowed, catching his son's eye. “We will teach you
all you need to know to blend in and guard yourself.”
Pandora interrupted, saying, “In addition to having magical cores, some wizards
have special abilities. Did you know you are a hemopath, Draco?”
Narcissa gasped, one hand lifting to her lips, while Lucius's eyes widened.
Draco tilted his head, blond hair falling from behind his ear. “What's that?”
“It means that blood speaks to your magic. You may see visions when you come in
contact with a magical person's blood, and you will excell at Blood Magic.”
Draco thought about it. He remembered when he first met Harry and took his
blood into his mouth. He'd gotten a weird feeling and all of a sudden he knew
Harry's name and that he was born on the last day of July. He'd also felt
something horrible hovering over Harry. And again when they were in the alley.
He'd felt his blood inside Harry's stomach and his power had gone into the boy
and spread throughout his body using that blood as a beacon. That's how their
bond was formed in the first place.
“That's a rare and precious gift, Draco,” Narcissa breathed softly, lips
trembling in a proud smile.
“The most powerful seers were hemopaths,” Lucius added, eyes narrowed
contemplatively.
Draco glared up at both of them. He knew that look. When adults weighed and
measured him with their eyes, considering how much he was worth.
“As for Harry...” Pandora switched her gaze to the smaller boy, making the
child duck his head shyly. “His magic had nearly become an Obscurus.”
“Merlin.” Lucius came away from the window and grabbed the back of Narcissa's
chair. The two Malfoys looked on the small child in horror.
“What's an Obscurus?” Draco hissed, glaring up at Pandora. He gripped Harry's
hair and held the boy's head firmly to his shoulder as – shame fear– oozed
through he bond.
“An Obscurus forms when a child hates themselves passionately and represses
their magic to an extreme degree. Their magic eventually breaks free and
becomes only tentatively connected to their core. It then violently and
brutally kills people as a Black force. The only way to stop it is to kill the
child who is its host.”
Harry felt like he was floating – horror resignation shame. He knew he was
disgusting and dirty. It wasn't anything new.
* You're mine, Harry, * Draco whispered in a voice like steel. * Don't forget I
made you into something new. Something mine. *
Harry relaxed, the numb feeling dissipating. He looked up into Draco's face and
knew he was saved. The firm hand in his hair grounded him. He was Draco's. The
black filth that oozed from his skin had been burned away by Draco's fire.
Unaware of the intense moment between the children, Pandora continued, “But his
magic was tamed before it was too late. It bonded to you, Draco, and your Dark
core gave it a pattern to follow and a way to thrive. Your magics continuously
travel back and forth in an infinity loop, enhanced and indivisible.”
Green eyes peered up at Pandora. “Draco saved me,” he said with simple truth,
tears of -gratitude love - in his eyes.
“Yes, he did,” Pandora confirmed.
“I'll always save him,” Draco vowed and looked directly at Lucius as he said
it.
Lucius stared back, overwhelmed. He had no idea what to think at this point.
“So this dark force connected to Harry... It is the effect of almost becoming
an Obscurus?” Narcissa asked hopefully.
Pandora shook her head. “I'm sorry, but no. I saw Harry's magic as a beautiful
bright gold. It had been darkened by his abuse, but it was not yet Black. The
attached magic... It was pitch Black. I believe you are correct. The night
Voldemort attacked the boy with the Killing Curse, he left a bit of his own
magic attached to Harry's core.”
“Are you certain it is just his magic?” Lucius demanded.
Pandora blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“The Dark Lord implied he could not be killed,” he confessed, voice low and
intense. “Is he somehow possessing the child?”
Pandora considered that. “I did not sense a consciousness, but I was unable to
examine it too thoroughly.”
“The boy speaks Parseltongue!” Lucius snapped, angrily. “How do you explain
that?”
“Parseltongue is an inborn ability,” Pandora corrected, annoyed. “Harry's magic
is attuned to Healing and Animal Magic, as were the first Parselmouths. In any
case, the connection is not seamless. I am confident it can be severed with a
little research.”
Draco spoke up, capturing the room's attention. “How much research? How long do
you think it'll take?” He was sick of this conversation. What they could and
couldn't do, how useful that would be, how others would see it. He felt the
walls closing in on him.
“I will going into the deep archives to study spells that attach or effect the
core. I should have a preliminary plan in a week,” she answered.
Narcissa could sense Draco was done, so she stood. “Thank you for your time,”
she said with a polite smile.
Pandora nodded and turned, sweeping from the room. Lucius followed her,
expression hard.
Narcissa sighed and settled back into her chair. She looked over at the boys.
Harry looked a little lost, leaning into Draco's side, while Draco stared off
thoughtfully, a frown on his face. She felt like she souldn't interupt, so she
waited patiently. Then, without warning, he looked over at Narcissa.
“I want that thing off of Harry's core as soon as possible,” Draco said,
fierce. “If she can't help us, I'll get it off myself.”
“Draco...” Narcissa tried, heart in her throat. “The core is very delicate.
Please be careful. You could damage Harry or your bond accidentally.”
“I'd never hurt him,” Draco practically hissed. “I know what we can and can't
do, and I think we can do this.” He stood, pulling Harry up next to him by his
hand.
“Draco, wait.” Narcissa shifted uncomfortably. “Remember that tomorrow you go
to Andromeda. You will need to pack a bag tonight. It's only for three days and
you'll be home.”
Draco shot her a neutral look over his shoulder. “I know,” he said coldly and
walked out the door
Narcissa sat back in her chair, feeling numb.
Chapter end.
A/N:So I thought I would get to Andromeda this chapter, but I felt this was a
good chapter end. To be honset, I've been depressed lately. I'm afraid it's
affected my writing. I feel like I'm not describing the scenes well enough to
paint a picture in the reader's head. Anyway, I'm sorry if it's not up to my
normal standard. I'm going ot keep pushing on with it.
 
***** Tonks *****
    Thank you so, so much for all the support! It really made a difference.
                                     Tonks
Directly after breakfast, the boys and Narcissa made their way to the receiving
room. They weren't there longer than a minute before the fire flared green and
Andromeda stepped out of the floo. She wore a maroon skirt, high-heeled boots,
and a short-sleeved button-down, and it made Draco curious, since she dressed
so similarly to her sister and held herself in the same formal way, why they
disliked each other. Andromeda had even worn her hair up in twists and buns
every time he'd seen her, the same way Narcissa did.
Giving a stiff nod to her sister, Andromeda quickly turned her attention to the
boys. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, expression softening into a smile.
“I'll see you soon,” Narcissa told them, blue eyes sad. She awkwardly offered
her hands. Harry took one and squeezed it with a smile, but Draco merely gave
her a nod and went to Andromeda's side.
Narcissa had become increasingly emotional over the last few days. He'd make
use of the Malfoys where he could, but he didn't see them as parents. It was
too late for that, and he didn't like the way she stared at them with such need
sometimes. Like she was waiting for him to fall into her lap and call her mommy
or something. It was frustrating because he'd thought they were making some
progress understanding each other.
“Come on, Harry,” he called from Andie's side.
Harry shifted the backpack higher on his shoulders and smiled up at Narcissa,
eyes bright behind his black glasses. “See you soon,” he said sweetly, voice
high and piping.
Clasping her hands in front of her, Narcissa straightened her back. “Bye,
Harry,” she answered as casually as she could.
Andromeda wrapped her arms around the boys and called out their destination -
“The Leaky Cauldron!” - and with a whoosh, they were gone from Malfoy Manor.
                                       …
Harry looked curiously around the restaurant they stepped into, his hand
securely held in Draco's. He hadn't been to a restaurant since leaving Liam,
which felt like ages ago. It was early, so there were only a few people
scattered about eating breakfast.
“This way,” Andromeda said with a wide smile.
Draco followed after her, pulling Harry along with him.
Harry's excitement dimmed, however, when he noticed how the people slowly
stopped eating and talking to stare at them. He ducked his head and stared down
at Draco's feet ahead of him until he heard a bell and felt warm sunlight flood
over him. He looked up and felt his mouth fall open.
A huge city stood around them. Cars zipped by, people filled the sidewalk, and
buildings stretched high above them into the sky. It felt like New York, but it
looked so different! Harry skipped up to Draco's side and practically hugged
his arm. Draco shared a grin with him.
Andromeda noticed the boys relaxing. Without the sharp edges, the two became
children instead of the miniature adults they sometimes appeared. She pointed
out little places on their walk, but it wasn't long before they reached her
townhouse. It was an old brick building sandwiched between others of nearly
identical make that sat on the corner of Charing Cross Road and Shaftesbury
Ave.
She pulled her key out of her pocket and unlocked the street door, holding it
open for the boys. They walked in, heads craned back, looking at everything.
The lobby was empty, and she took them straight to the stairs. The stairwell
was narrow, but the steps and railing were made from wood and were well-taken
care of. She was a little out of breath as she stood in front of the door with
a golden thirty-one hanging on it. (Thirty because it was the third floor and
one because it was the first unit on the left. They shared the floor with
apartment thirty-two.)
“Welcome home,” she told them warmly as she let them in.
They stepped into the narrow hall curiously. On the left, next to the coat
closet, Andromeda showed them a small bathroom. A galley kitchen done with
golden-brown wooden cabinets lay behind the doorway to the right. Next to the
kitchen was a closed door.
“This is Nymphadora's room. She's been home from Hogwarts for a couple weeks
now and likes to sleep in. She's been looking forward to meeting you.”
Andromeda took them to the open room at the end of the hallway. It was a type
of living room with a couch, a few armchairs, an elegant coffee table, and a
television. Two large open windows filled the room with light and filled the
room with the warmth of summer. Along the back wall sat a six-seat dinning room
table. Cupboards on the wall behind it stored china and dishware.
White walls, wooden floor strewn with white and blue rugs, grey couches, pale
blue drapes and accents: it was a very calming room. Two doors, one on either
side of the room, were closed. Andie explained that the master bedroom was
behind the door on the left and their room was to the right.
She opened it and led them inside. “You can change it however you like,” she
told them, standing nervously in the doorway. It had an armoire to store
clothes, a queen bed done in dark purple and grey, a nightstand with a white
lamp, and a small desk in one corner between two windows.
“It's fine,” Draco told her as Harry put their backpack on the bed.
“I'm glad.” She gestured back toward the living/dining room. “Shall we talk?”
Draco and Harry settled on the couch, but Andromeda didn't sit with them,
saying, “I'm going to make a cup of tea; would you like one?”
“No, thank you,” Harry answered politely while Draco merely shook his head.
They watched as she unbound her hair as she made her way back down the hallway.
It fell to mid-back, a medium brown with a slight wave. Draco wondered if it
was a signal that she trusted them or if she'd only put it up because she was
going to see her sister.
They sat quietly, enjoying the moment of calm and listening to the sounds of
the city drifting in through the window.
Eventually Andromeda joined them. She set the tea pot on a little wooden block
that sat in the middle of the coffee table after pouring some into her cup.
Sitting back with a satisfied expression, she looked at them with a warm
expression. “I'm glad to finally have you here, boys.”
“Thank you for having us,” Harry pipped in, polite and sweet.
“It's really no problem.” Andromeda sipped delicately from her tea cup, just
the same as Narcissa did. “I was very upset to hear of your abduction, Draco,
and very pleased to know you had been found. My feelings for my sister aside,
no parent should suffer the loss of a child.” She reached over to gently touch
his knee before turning her warm smile to Harry. “And I am very happy to serve
as your guardian, Harry. Your parents were incredible people, and Sirius, your
godfather, was my favorite cousin.”
She waited for a response, but the boys merely stared back at her. She decided
to change the subject. “While I will have you continue your reading, math, and
science lessons during your month long stay, your weekend with me will be
purely for relaxing and fun. What do you like to do?”
“We want to explore the neighborhood a bit,” Draco spoke up. He shot Harry a
side glance. “Maybe find a baseball game.”
Harry's expression brightened. “Really?”
Draco smiled and gave a nod before turning back to Andromeda. “And I'd like to
see Remus.”
“Of course.” Andromeda tossed her head, hand flipping her hair over her
shoulder. “I've already invited him over for dinner. Now, I'm sure you two are
very capable of taking care of yourselves, but you are both quite famous and we
are only a few blocks from the Wizarding district. I'd prefer it if Nymphadora
or I went with you on your explorations. I also do not want you skipping
meals.”
“I can cook,” Harry offered hopefully. He gazed at Draco as he said it.
Draco ran his thumb over the inside of Harry's wrist soothingly. “Harry will
help prepare breakfast and clean up after dinner. We'll likely eat lunch while
we're out.”
“Your help will be appreciated if you truly wish to give it, but it is by no
means a requirement,” Andromeda told Harry before standing. Her dark eyes gazed
at the boy warmly. “Let me go wake my lazy daughter and you guys can head out.”
“This is so different from the manor,” Harry said softly, looking around. The
apartment was bigger than the one they had with Liam, but it felt smaller. With
the furniture and shelving and big curtains, the rooms were more cluttered.
Still, it felt way more familiar than Malfoy Manor.
“Yeah, it is.” Draco leaned in and put his head against Harry's. It was all
very disorienting.
They didn't have long to rest before a thirteen-year-old girl bounded into the
room in onesie pajamas with colorful fairies fluttering here and there. “Oh
Merlin! You're here! I can't believe my alarm didn't go off!” She flashed a hot
glare toward her mother. “Why didn't you wake me?” She had barely finished her
question when she tripped and fell flat on her face.
Andromeda lifted her hand a few inches, as if to help her daughter up, but then
dropped it to her side.
The girl's short pink hair darkened to a deep purple as she sat up on her
knees, rubbing the back of her head with a grin. There was a strong resemblance
between her and Andromeda: the same dark eyes and heart-shaped face. “Sorry
'bout that!” she said with a laugh. “I'm a metamorphagus! That means I can
change my body with magic. I do it a little bit all the time not on purpose,
and so I fall down a lot 'cause my balance is always changing.”
“Nymphadora.” Andromeda put a firm hand on her daughter's head. “Manners. I
detest your street language.”
Nymphadora rolled her eyes, but she did climb to her feet and straighten her
posture. “I apologize, Draco, Harry. I let myself get carried away. I am very
happy to have two new brothers. Mother told me you wanted to explore the city.
Let me eat get dressed and something for breakfast, and I'd love to go with
you.” She didn't wait for an answer, instead turning bounding down the hallway
toward her bedroom and the kitchen. “And call me Dora, please! Only mother
insists on calling me Nymphadora!” she shouted over her shoulder.
“It is your name,” Andromeda said dryly. She gave Draco and Harry a smile.
“She's a good girl. You can count on her.” With a swish of her wand, she
summoned plates and silverware and had them set themselves at the table. “She's
like her father, who was also sorted Hufflepuff. They will both stand beside
you to the end. Edward had to go in to work early this morning, or he would
have been here to greet you.” She sighed and sat next to the boys. “I suppose
now is as good a time as any to explain, since we're on the subject of my
husband. Edward was born to Muggle parents, and this is the core of the
disagreement between Narcissa and I. My family felt he was lesser because of
his parentage, but Edward is a very gifted wizard and a beautiful person. I'm
sure you will agree.”
Dora returned with a plate of hot eggs, bacon, and toast. She sat the table and
chatted happily about all the places she was going to show Draco and Harry.
Andromeda listened patiently, making a few suggestions. Draco and Harry watched
them silently. It was a bit overwhelming.
“Ready?” Dora asked, getting up from the table. She wore a baggy, purple blouse
tucked into high-waisted blue jeans and bright blue, high-top sneakers. Her
hair was a bright pink once more. “Bye, Mum!” She took Harry by the hand, as he
was closest to her, and moved down the hallway at a fast walk.
“Be careful, please,” Andromeda called after them.
Dora released Harry's hand as soon as they hit the stairs due to them being so
narrow. She seemed oblivious to Draco's scowl as she chattered all the way
down. “Mum said you like baseball. Well, you're in luck! It's baseball season.
Goes from April 'til August, though futbol's more popular. Have you ever played
futbol? I think they call it soccer in America. I'm not very good a sports, of
course, what with tripping over my own feet all the time. Hand-eye-coordination
can be a real chore, too, but I'm working on it! I haven't told Mum, so don't
say anything, but I want to be an Auror! It's like the magical police, so I'm
going to have to be able to hit the stuff I aim at, you know? Bet I'm going to
be just killer at disguises, though.” She giggled.
Draco tuned her out a this point. They'd made it outside and were back on the
street again. He really didn't know what to make of her. He'd only dealt with a
few kids her age in the Hold, but they were quiet and afraid. If they got angry
or loud, Raymond took care of them. They either came back silent as ghosts or
never came back at all. She was a wild card and that set Draco's teeth on edge.
They were halfway down a second block, a green park up ahead, when Draco said,
“Look, Dora. I'd like to go around with Harry for a bit.”
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to face them. Her eyes
suddenly the same green as Harry's, her expression imploring. “But what if you
get lost or something happens? I just can't. I know I'm talking a lot and I can
be annoying, but I'll be better, promise.”
Draco tucked his hair behind his ear with a sigh. “It ain't got nothin' to do
with you. We've been with the Malfoys for two weeks or so and we'd like some
space. If you knew anythin' about us, you'd know we won't get lost, and I can
take care of Harry. Nothin's gonna happen, okay?”
Dora bit her lip, clearly anxious. “What if I promise not to talk at all and
just follow you around?”
“Sorry, Dora.” Draco tightened his hand on Harry's. * Run! *he ordered,
sprinting past the teenager and into the crowd, Harry running with him.
“Wait!”
                                       …
Draco and Harry explored the streets of London for hours. They ate from street
vendors and saw a game of baseball in a park, and they found a square with
hundreds of pigeons. Draco ran through them making them explode into the sky.
The stress of the Wizarding world fell away and it was just them again.
It was nearing sundown when they made their way back to the apartment. They
were just passing the place they had ditched Dora when they heard, “Draco!
Harry!”, and the pink-haired teenager bounded up to them, smiling.
Draco's head cocked in surprise. He hadn't thought she'd wait for them like
that.
“I didn't want to come home without you and make Mum come looking and ruining
your time,” she explained sheepishly, mussing the back of her hair. Her stomach
growled.
Draco's eyes narrowed. “You waited here all day. You didn't even get lunch.”
Dora laughed and waved her hands in front of her. “I didn't want you to get
home without me, either. Then she might not trust you to come out without her.
It's cool. I people watched and stuff. It's not like I haven't missed a meal
before. Come on! I bet dinner's almost ready.” She turned and headed back down
the sidewalk.
Harry glanced over at Draco and smiled when he saw the blond's frown. Pushing
his glasses higher up his nose, he followed the two back to the apartment. He
could tell Dora had impressed Draco. Harry thought she was nice. She hadn't
picked on them or got Draco into trouble. Maybe they could be friends?
Delicious smells came from the kitchen as they walked in, Dora yelling, “We're
home!”
Andromeda stepped into the hall, wearing a white apron, her hair up in a tight
bun. Her dark eyes sparkled happily. “How was your day?”
“Great!” Dora answered easily. “We went around and I showed them the park.”
“I'm happy to hear that. Now go wash up,” Andromeda ordered, turning back to
the kitchen. “Dinner's about done and Mr. Lupin will be here any minute.”
Dora did as she was told, taking the boys into the bathroom in the hallway.
They stood close together, washing their hands in the sink.
Draco watched Dora thoughtfully in the mirror. He looked closely for a smirk or
a 'you owe me' look, but she simply washed her hands, gave them a smile, and
left. He glanced at Harry and saw the little boy smiling. “What're you
thinkin?” He entwined their fingers, the soapy digits sliding together
smoothly, slick and wet.
“She's nice,” Harry offered, looking shyly through his bangs, glasses glinting.
Draco relented. “Yeah. I think so.”
Harry's head came up with a big smile, eyes bright.
“Come on.” Draco rinsed their hands and dried them off, tugging Harry down the
hallway to the living room. He stopped at the threshold, his smile falling away
into a more guarded expression.
A big-belled man with thick dark-blond hair sat on the gray couch. He wore a
button-down and some black slacks. He had black slippers on his feet. He saw
them and turned off the TV, waving them over with a smile. Dora was sitting
next to him, looking completely relaxed, slouched in the corner of the couch.
“I'm Ted,” he said, voice surprisingly soft and melodious. “Sorry I wasn't here
to greet you this morning.”
“This is my father,” Dora added, smiling. “He's a Magical artist and also works
in Grandpa's watch shop. They make incredible watches. People come from all
over just to buy one.”
“Hi, I'm Harry and this is Draco,” Harry introduced them with a polite smile.
Draco said nothing, choosing to sit on the floor by Dora's legs rather than on
the couch next to the strange man. Harry, of course, chose to sit next to him.
It wasn't uncomfortable. The white and blue rug under them was thick and soft.
“It's nice to meet you,” Ted answered, unbothered by Draco's standoffishness.
He turned the TV back on and they watched a strange show that Draco couldn't
quite figure out. Before the next commercial, there was a knock on the door,
and Draco perked up. He listened carefully as Andie opened the door and greeted
whoever had arrived. Then he heard Remus's voice answer and he smiled. He got
to his feet, Harry following.
Remus caught sight of them at the end of the hallway, and his whole demeanor
relaxed as he grinned. “Boys,” he called, moving quickly and pulling them into
a three-way hug. “I've missed you.”
Draco relaxed into the hug, feeling – happy excitement – wash through the bond.
Remus pushed back so he could see their faces. “I got that place in Hogsmeade
that I told you about last time. I can't wait for you to see it. It's very
similar to the cottage in Lusio Village.”
Someone cleared their throat behind Draco and he turned to see that Ted had
turned the TV off again and was standing, smiling with good humor.
Remus released the boys and climbed stiffly back to his feet, his joints
creaking and red staining his cheeks. He placed his hands on the boys's
shoulders as he introduced himself. “Sorry about that. I'm Remus Lupin. Thank
you for the inviting me over tonight.”
“It's no trouble at all,” Ted said cheerfully. “I'm Ted Tonks and this is my
daughter Dora.”
Dora waved happily from her position on the couch, her eyes were a bight blue.
“You got wicked scars, Mr. Lupin! Did you get into a fight?”
“Dora!” Ted turned to his daughter, eyes wide.
“No. It's fine.” Remus brushed his wavy, sandy hair from his face. “I know they
are shocking. I prefer to get it out of the way to be honest.” He looked at
Dora. The deep scars on either cheek that created a deep artificial dimple
combined with fainter yet still visible horizontal scar that ran across the
bridge of his nose and under his eyes and the parallel scars that ran at an
angle across his forehead and through one eyebrow. “I had a run-in with some
people who didn't like magic much. The scars will fade overtime.”
Draco watched all this proudly. Directly after their attack by Scourers, Remus
had been ashamed of his face. He hadn't liked meeting people and grew his hair
out to try and soften the effects, but after working with Laila daily he'd come
to accept his appearance. He'd even come to appreciate that he could explain
away the marks from his monthly transformation as effects left by the Scourers.
The man had come a long way.
“Dinner is ready,” Andromeda called from behind them, pots and serving dishes
floating behind her. Her apron was gone and she wore a simple cream-colored
dress that fell to her knees with dark green heels.
They all gathered around the table. Ted, Andromeda, and Dora sitting on one
side with Remus, Draco, and Harry on the other. Ted praised his wife's efforts,
exclaiming everything looked beautiful. She smiled and kissed his cheek.
Dora offered Remus the potatoes and soon they were all chatting about places
they'd been and things they'd seen. Talk quickly moved to Hogwarts. Almost
every House was represented at the table except for Ravenclaw. Dora was pretty
popular, having friends in every House. She excelled at DADA and
Transfiguration, but she did well in every class.
“I think Harry will join Hufflepuff,” Remus said with a smile, reaching over to
ruffle Harry's hair.
Harry ducked his head with a happy blush as Dora cheered and Ted gave him a
thumbs up.
“We're out-numbered I'm afraid,” Andromeda told Draco with a fake sigh.
Draco grinned because it didn't matter. He'd always come out on top, and he was
sure Andie felt the same way from the sparkle in her eyes.
After dinner, Dora and Harry took the dishes to the kitchen to wash. Apparently
it was one of Dora's daily chores. That left Andromeda, Ted, Remus, and Draco
in the living room. Andromeda sat beside her husband on the couch, while Remus
took an arm chair. Draco perched on one of the arms, one leg folded up and
resting his arms over his knee.
“How is it at Malfoy Manor really, Draco?” Andromeda asked with genuine
concern. She'd let her hair down, and it fell around her shoulders, softening
her features. Ted wrapped his arm around her.
“It's not too bad,” Draco answered softly. He rested his chin on his arms,
feeling the warmth of Remus's hand on his back. “They're both pretty upset
about our past and stuff, and they don't see eye-to-eye a lot. Narcissa is
pretty good. She's on our side, but she's still really focused on us becoming
proper. Insists it's crucial in order to be powerful in the Wizading world.
Lucius is more hung up about the bond and the Dark magic attached to Harry's
core. I think he thinks the Dark Lord's possessing Harry, or that he can
possess him or something.”
The adults stared at Draco with wide eyes.
“I think you should start at the beginning,” Remus offered softly, eyes having
become a shade closer to gold.
Draco looked to Andie curiously, but she shook her head.
“Narcissa writes me reports, but they are very basic. I understood Harry had
Dark magic attached to his core, but she didn't say it was from You-Know-Who.”
So Draco told them about Lord Greengrass and his failed examination. He
explained what he'd experienced when Pandora (of course he didn't reveal her
name, merely calling her the Unspeakable) had put them in a trance and explored
their cores. They listened quietly, attention rapt. He told them what she'd
said about his magic, but he left out the part where she'd discovered he was a
hemopath. He wasn't sure it was a good idea to spread that around, and he
didn't trust Andie or Ted yet. He could always tell Remus in private later. He
also left out Harry was a Parseltongue, but he did tell them that Harry had a
gift for Healing and his magic had almost become an Obscurus.
Andie covered mouth in horror while Ted closed his eyes with an expression of
pain. Remus growled from beside him and Draco placed a firm hand on his arm,
making him cut the sound short. Draco would not allow the Tonks to discover
Remus's secret. You could seem like the most tolerant person in the world, but
some prejudices ran deep. There was no way to know if they would turn on Remus
or not if they found out he was a werewolf.
“So this Unspeakable believes she can break the connection between the Dark
magic and Harry's core?” Ted asked softly.
“Yeah, but if she can't find a way, then I'll break it myself.” Draco lifted
his chin and stared at the Tonks challengingly when they opened their mouths to
protest. “You don't know our bond. It's strong. Everyone says so, but that's
only words. You don't know what it feels like from inside. You'll just have to
trust me when I say I can do it.” Eyes brightening to silver, he looked right
into Andie's eyes. “I'd never hurt Harry.”
“Draco's right,” Remus spoke up supportively. “When it comes to Harry, Draco
wouldn't make a mistake like that.”
Draco's lips curled into a pleased smile.
“Of course you wouldn't hurt Harry on purpose,” Andromeda argued, brows lowered
over her dark eyes. Her hand tightened on Ted's knee. “But mistakes happen.
Even the most experienced, powerful wizards can't predict everything magic will
do.”
Harry and Dora returned, and their light-hearted chatter came to a stop as they
stood in the doorway.
Remus glanced over and gave them a wink. “Done with the dishes? Thank you for
cleaning up.”
Dora blushed and stepped further into the room. She cut between Draco's and her
Mum's staring contest to sit on the couch. Harry went to Remus's side and
leaned over the other arm of Remus's chair, he looked up at Draco adoringly.
Ted observed the way Draco reached over without looking to stroke Harry's hair
and the way Harry leaned into the touch. He grew thoughtful.
“Tell me more about your travels,” Dora asked Remus, eyes a bright amber to
match his.
Remus gave her a soft smile. “Well, there was the time I stumbled into a gypsy
camp in Spain.”
Andromeda and Draco finally looked away from each other, captivated by the
story Remus began to tell.
                                       …
And so the next two days went, except Draco allowed Dora to go with them as
they explored the city. Remus had dinner with them every night and slowly the
apartment felt more familiar. Draco and Harry spent time every night decorating
their room with the help of Dora and Andie's magic. Harry made breakfast every
morning, impressing the household with his skills, and he helped clean up every
night. The deep peace this gave him made Draco happy, too.
On the day they returned to the Malfoys, Dora flung her arms around them one at
a time. Draco rolled his eyes, but he allowed it. Andie and Ted watched with
smiles, leaning against each other. “Bye! I'll write you!” Dora said loudly,
tears in her eyes. “I love you!”
“Bye, Dora.” Draco shrugged free and gave her a smile. She grinned back.
“Bye, I'll miss you,” Harry said sweetly, making her hug him a second time.
“Alright, we have to go,” Andromeda said, stepping forward and gently prying
her daughter off. “We'll have them all August.”
The made their way to the Leaky Cauldron without talking. It was dinner time,
so the pub was packed. As they pushed their way through, a ripple of silence
followed in their wake and followed by a wave of hushed whispers.
Draco gazed around at all the interested and wide-eyed people while Harry clung
to his hand and kept his head ducked, eyes glued to their feet. Draco had
considered arranging to stay with Andie more full time, but this reaction
reminded him why the Malfoys were necessary. They would need power and skill to
manage the rabid attention of society. It also was a large reminder of why they
were famous. The Dark Lord's shadow still haunted Harry.
Draco glanced back and green eyes looked up at him attentively. Draco smiled
and squeezed his hand supportively. He wasn't about to let anyone hurt Harry.
Ever.
“Ready?” Andromeda asked, smiling down at the boys. They looked more rested,
but their relaxed postures had disappeared as soon as they stepped into the
Leaky Cauldron. She was sad for the loss, but she also approved. The boys had
to be aware and careful. “I'd like you to try flooing on your own.”
Draco, unsurprisingly, came forward and took the handful of floo powder from
her.
Harry stepped in close, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist. He looked up at
Andromeda from behind large black frames. He smiled. “Thank you for everything,
Andie.”
She rested her hand gently on top of his soft, messy hair. “You are most
welcome, Harry. I look forward to your letters.”
Draco gave her a firm nod and flung the powder down, calling, “Malfoy Manor!”
Chapter end.
 
***** Occlumency and Invitations *****
Occlumency and Invitations
The boys had returned and the manor felt alive again. Lucius could only imagine
what an entire month’s absence would feel like. So much had changed in just
three days. The most important was that Lucius had met with the Occlumens Lord
Greengrass had recommended, and the man’s identity had shaken Lucius to his
very core. 
When he’d brought his revelation to Narcissa, she had taken him into her arms
and they had spoken for long hours about the Dark Lord, the war (past and
possible future), their son, and Potter. She was still not convinced the Dark
Lord would return, but Lucius knew in his bones Voldemort was not gone
forever. 
However, she had managed to calm his fears and persuade him that Draco and
Potter were a good pair. They would be strong together, and their bond should
not be underestimated. In the end, he had promised to actively try to bridge
the gap that existed between himself and their son.
Lucius gazed at Draco as they ate a delicious dinner of lamb with a balsamic
reduction. (Even the elves were happy with the boys’ return.) Draco’s attention
was on Narcissa as she discussed the upcoming ball she had scheduled in a
fortnight. It served the duel purpose of celebrating Potter’s birthday and
introducing the boys to polite society.
“Do we really need to invite that many people?” Draco was asking, his brows
lowered in a doubtful frown.
Narcissa smiled cheerfully. “Of course, darling. We do not want to incite bad
feelings by making someone feel left out. Honestly, this is a rather modest
number. I have only invited the children of your generation and their immediate
family. Most likely their parents will attend and perhaps a few Family Heads as
well.” She daintily cut another piece from her meat and set her knife aside
before lifting the morsel to her lips. She waited to chew and swallow before
continuing. “You may need these connections later, Draco. Do not worry. You
will be expected to spend most of your time with the children. The boring
politics will be left to Lucius and I.” She shot him a meaningful look, adding,
“For now.”
Draco rolled his eyes.
Lucius would have been severely punished for such an impolite gesture during
dinner, especially if it had been a response to his parent’s instruction, but
it was one of the few childish mannerisms Draco had, and Lucius was loathe to
eradicate it.
Taking a quick sip of his wine to wet his throat, Lucius set the glass aside,
saying, “Draco. I’d like to speak with you in my office after dinner.”
Meeting his eyes with a perfectly bored expression, Draco asked, “What about?”
It had taken Lucius into his teens to manage that look without merely looking
dumb and yet Draco had perfected it. “The Occlumens Lord Greengrass had
recommended.”
Draco hooked his pale hair behind one ear, lips turning down into a frown.
“Harry can help me write invitations. Depending on the family’s status and
alliances, each one has to be worded a special way. It would be a good skill
for him to have later,” Narcissa offered, hope shinning in her eyes.
Draco sighed and looked to Harry, who looked back at him trustingly. “Fine,” he
relented. He didn’t think this wizard would help with the flashbacks any more
than Greengrass, but it was worth trying. He refused to be defenseless when
Harry needed him again.
“I’ll do my best, Draco,” the brunet promised, green eyes earnest behind his
glasses - determination love -humming through the bond. 
Draco smiled and ran his hand through Harry’s hair. Harry leaned into his
touch, eyes closing happily. “I know you will,” he said softly. “Finish eating
first.”
Harry obediently returned to his plate.
… 
Lucius led Draco into his office. An absentminded gesture ignited the lamps
along the walls, creating an intimate atmosphere. The bookshelf was lined with
leather-bound tomes of different sizes and colors. Shelving displayed gold,
silver, and wooden artifacts and devices. The window behind his desk looked out
over the wooded expanse along the north of the property. 
He sat down behind his desk and watched as Draco had to do a small hop to sit
in the padded chair across from him. Lucius stood and came around the desk,
conjuring a second chair and setting it at an angle to Draco’s. He would not
make progress with the boy if he took an authoritative stance. 
Draco watched this with a small smile, amusement shading his expression.
Lucius ignored that. “The man Lord Greengrass recommended has a natural gift at
Occlumency, but circumstances required him to hone that skill into a Mastery
Lord Greengrass has not seen before or since. In fact, it was Dumbledore who
brought the man to Lord Greengrass’s attention.”
“Who?” Draco asked impatiently. His foot bounced, reminding Lucius of the tail
of a temperamental cat. “Why not say his name?”
“Severus Snape,” Lucius answered. “And I suppose because I am still impressed
by the conspiracy.”
“Yeah?” Draco leaned over the armrest furthest from Lucius, his chin resting on
his folded arms. He felt - anxiety fear - seep from Harry, but it wasn’t more
than he normally felt when he tried new things and fretted over getting in
trouble for doing bad. Draco would wait to see if it got worse before going
after him. “What’s his story?”
Lucius pressed his fingertips together, steepled in front of his lips. “Severus
has a convoluted history. I remember he had an enormous axe to grind against
Dumbledore and Gryffindors in general when he became a Death Eater.”
Draco sat up, eyes brightening as he stared at Lucius unblinking. 
Lucius hesitated, but then he began speaking, determined. “I spent the first
two years after Hogwarts building my connections in the Ministry and growing my
businesses. I courted Narcissa during her last year at Hogwarts and we married
in ’73 after her graduation. By that point, the Dark Lord had been recruiting
me for several months. His ideals were seductive, and he offered me power as
his right hand. I accepted the Mark and became a Death Eater,” he admitted
quietly.
Draco leaned forward as Lucius unbuttoned this cufflink and rolled his right
sleeve up. A faint shadow of a skull with a snake hanging from its mouth could
bee seen. Without asking, Draco ran his fingertips lightly over the Mark. 
Lucius held his breath, but there was no reaction. He quickly rolled his sleeve
down again, avoiding Draco’s piercing gaze. “We worked in secret, recruiting
those we felt would benefit the cause. Severus was brought to my attention in
’77. I’d been a seventh year when he’d entered Hogwarts, so we did not know
each other well. The Dark Lord had discovered Severus’s genius with potions and
asked me to recruit him.” He sent Draco a wry smile. “It did not take much. I
had Severus wrapped around my finger after a few conversations and a handful of
letters. He took the Mark almost immediately after graduating.”
Draco tilted his head curiously, knowing something troubled Lucius about all of
this. “So what happened?”
Lucius sighed. He stood and went to the cupboard with the brandy and sniffers.
He poured a generous amount and brought it back to his chair. He swirled the
amber liquid thoughtfully as he continued, “At some point between his
enlistment and the night Potter destroyed the Dark Lord, Severus had a change
of heart without my even suspecting.”
“Change of heart?” Draco frowned.
Lucius nodded, taking a big sip of his drink. “He went to Dumbledore and sought
freedom from the Dark Lord.”
Draco narrowed his eyes and leaned over the arm of the chair again.
“Interesting.”
“Very,” Lucius agreed. He watched Draco thoughtfully for a moment, wondering
what he was thinking. “Apparently Dumbledore could not free Severus from the
Mark, but he did offer protection after the war and arranged for Lord
Greengrass to teach Severus in secret. Occlumency gave Severus some protection
from the Dark Lord finding out about his change of heart. His efforts were
clearly successful or he’d have been murdered as a traitor long ago.”
“Why’d he tell you all this?” Draco asked, brows lowered in a deep v. “Just
because Lord Greengrass said you needed him to teach me? He just gave up his
secret?”
“He did not tell me all,” Lucius answered wryly, but he slowly mirrored Draco’s
frown. “I suppose he must be confident that I must take a neutral stance now
that you are inseparably bound to Potter.” He rubbed his lips, grey eyes
thoughtful. “It does throw into question how loyal he is to Dumbledore. He
currently serves as the Potions Professor at Hogwarts and has since the end of
the war. However, this could just be Dumbledore wanting to keep close tabs on a
man who bears the Mark. Severus’s hatred was very real when I recruited him. I
refuse to believe otherwise, and he is still a very isolated man with no
friends or family to speak of. That does not exactly suggest he is Dumbledore’s
man.”
Draco cocked an eyebrow, chin still propped on his arms. “And you want him to
teach me?”
Lucius met his eyes, trying to convey how serious he was. “He is the very best,
and Malfoys only make use of the best. Better yet, no one knows of his skill.
He even swore me to secrecy, excluding yourself and Narcissa. If he becomes
your tutor, all will assume he is teaching you potions. Occlumency would be a
valuable ace up your sleeve.”
“What is that? Occlu-many?”
“Occlumency,” Lucius corrected, very careful not to smile. He’d learned Draco
was very sensitive when it came to being seen as stupid. “It is a Mind Art. I
do not have the skill, but books say that it allows a wizard to organize their
thoughts and guard them from mental intrusion. In essence, it is a magic that
gives a wizard conscious control over their mind.”
He said this casually, wary of Draco sensing his manipulation. As expected,
Draco sat up, expression interested. Control was something Draco prized. It was
obvious after spending any amount of time with the boy. Suggesting Occlumency
would give Draco even more was a sure way to get the boy invested.
“I will not be allowed to be present during your lessons with Severus. If you
choose to take them, that is,” he added. “Severus assures me that he can show
you techniques to prevent what happened at the Ministry.”
“When can he come?” Draco asked, sitting straight, eyes direct, decision made.
Lucius settled back into his chair and sipped his brandy. “It is summer. He is
free from Hogwarts, so I am sure he can work around whatever schedule you would
feel comfortable with.”
“Tomorrow,” Draco insisted firmly. “And then we’ll see after that if he can
help.”
“Very well.” 
Standing, Lucius went around his desk, pulled out parchment and a quill. He sat
and quickly wrote the letter of acceptance and requesting Severus’s presence
the next day. He handed the letter to Draco, allowing the boy to read it. It
took Draco a few minutes. Likely he struggled with Lucius’s elevated
vocabulary, but he didn’t offer to help. Draco was fiercely independent. Too
much so.
Eventually, Draco handed the letter back with a nod, turned, and left the
office without another word. 
Lucius sighed. He supposed he couldn’t expect Draco to trust him right away,
but he hoped his son could sense the change in him. The boy’s disdainful words
from before haunted him.“You may not be an enemy, but you certainly aren’t an
ally.” Lucius was determined to prove otherwise.
… 
Narcissa sat at her desk in the sunroom. She had summoned Harry’s chair so that
he sat right next to her. She even lengthened the legs so that he could easily
watch what she was writing. Three different types of parchment were spread out
before her. The first was of the highest quality and very expensive, the edges
brushed with fourteen karat gold. The middle was very fine parchment but had no
gold. The third was nice but more common.
“You want to show that we are powerful and should be respected, but you do not
want to appear as if you are bragging,” she explained to the attentive child
beside her. “Bragging creates bad feelings in others. It could encourage them
to plot against you. However, those with very nice things like we have will not
see the very fine parchment as bragging. It will be common to them and
expected. The parchment will say to them, we are superior together.”
Harry frowned and looked up at her anxiously. “But how do you know who will
like it and who will think you’re bragging?”
“Simple.” Narcissa gently tapped his nose with a smile. “I pay attention. It is
my job to be interested in the people who make up our world. You never know
what detail will be of use later.” Her hands set out the quills and inks she
would use, arranging everything in neat piles and sections as she spoke. “I go
to lunches and dinners. I attend parties. I talk to other people, but most
importantly, I listen. Therefore I know what I need to know.”
Harry’s eyes were wide with - admiration. “Wow.”
“You will do the same,” she assured him and ignored the immediate doubt that
darkened the child’s expression. She was used to that by now. Harry never
believed he could do anything new. Draco would tell him he could, so Harry
would, but he never believed he could until it was already done. “Now, the
words we write will be just as important as what paper and ink we choose. We
must make them all sound mostly the same, so that if they get compared we
cannot be seen as favoring or trapping anyone. Additionally, we have to
consider their political alliances.”
“Dark, Neutral, Light,” Harry recited from an earlier lesson.
Narcissa smiled warmly. “Very good, Harry. Yes. Those are the three political
sides. Now, traditionally the Malfoys favor the Dark, and so our social circle
is usually made up of those who also favor the Dark. But!” She gently stroked
his hair. “Your addition has opened new doors for our family. We can now reach
out to Neutral and Light bloodlines.” She lifted her finger, making his
attention sharpen. “What did I tell you about bloodlines?”
“That Purebloods have magical history, and history means culture. If we want to
protect magic, we need to protect our culture,” Harry recited.
“Yes. That’s it exactly,” Narcissa praised, making the little boy blush. “At
the beginning of the century, there were only twenty-eight sacred lines left in
the United Kingdom. Only twenty-three of those bloodlines still exist today,
and only sixteen of those have produced children in your generation.” 
Harry’s eyes went wide in - upset worry.
Blue eyes boring into Harry, she took his hands and said very seriously. “It’s
important, Harry, that we protect those bloodlines and our pure magical
culture. Many times these families are pulled in different directions or chose
actions that will end the bloodline, and it is my job and your job to try and
hold the web together.”
“I-I can’t do that!” Harry stuttered - horrified.
Narcissa quickly soothed him, knowing Draco would come if she upset Harry. She
did not want to lose the hard earned trust he’d given her by letting her be
alone with Harry. “Don’t fret so. We aren’t alone. There are people like me in
every family who also help hold the web together, and if you really can’t do
it, then you can simply help me. Alright?”
Harry relaxed. He could do that. “Yes, Narcissa.”
She smiled at him again. “Then let’s continue.”
Harry sat attentively and did his best to remember what she was telling him. He
felt his nerves rise as she said more and more names, and he went to get scrap
paper to take notes, blushing in shame that he needed it.
Narcissa praised him, saying, “Good idea, Harry.”
He carefully wrote the names of the families they were inviting, all of which
were from the sacred bloodlines. Harry carefully counted ten. Plus Malfoy, and
that was eleven, but hadn’t Narcissa said there were sixteen scared bloodlines
left?
“Sixteen minus eleven is… five missing?” he asked after consulting his fingers
for a few minutes.
Narcissa nodded. “Yes. Longbottom, Weasley, and Shacklebolt have feuds with our
family. Even with your addition, inviting them would be seen as an insult and
may start an unnecessary fight. As for Selwyn, their son graduated Hogwarts
this year and is no longer a child. He would not be considered your peer. It
would be inappropriate to invite him. Same for Travers, except his daughter is
still an infant.”
Harry’s head spun with confusion, but he perked up, noticing the name she was
writing on the last invitation. He smiled excitedly. “Dora’s invited?”
Narcissa concealed a grimace. “Yes. Andromeda is your other guardian, and her
daughter is a minor. It would be rude not to invite her. I am also inviting
close personal friends of our family, the Crabbes and Goyles. They should be in
your year at Hogwarts. That’s a total of thirteen families invited to our ball.
That is a lucky number.” Satisfied, she looked down at him. “You will have good
fortune this year. Now, let’s add symbols so you remember the alliance of each
family. We’ll put stars by the Dark families, suns by the Light families, and
clouds by the Neutral, okay?”
Harry obediently went down his list drawing the three symbols. Stars went next
to: Flint, Carrow, Nott, Parkinson, Rowle, Yaxley, Crabbe, and Goyle. Clouds
went next to: Bulstrode, Greengrass, and Macmillan. Suns went next to: Abbott
and Tonks.
Harry stared down at his messy handwriting. After a few moments, he looked up
at Narcissa upset. “I don’t think I understand it very well.”
Draco appeared in the doorway and strode to Harry’s side. Narcissa tried to
hide her surprise when he grabbed Harry by the hair and firmly tilted his head
back. He read over Harry’s shoulder, keeping the boy’s neck extended,
displaying the black collar against Harry’s pale throat. 
She knew Draco would never put Harry into distress without reason or truly hurt
him, not if they were true Dominus et Delicae like she believed, but she
couldn’t help searching Harry’s face for evidence of fear or pain. Of course,
there was none; Harry looked relaxed and peaceful. If she had to name it, maybe
he looked relieved?
Eventually Draco released Harry’s hair. “Explain it to me. We’ll work it out
together.”
Narcissa sat patiently, listening as Harry haltingly went through the
invitations and the politics she had begun teaching him. He looked to her
often, clearly nervous to get it wrong, but she only assisted when Draco gave
her a nod to do so. Otherwise, Harry struggled through the information with
Draco asking questions. 
She was impressed with the strategy. It was painful to listen to at first.
Harry was clearly stressed, but as the minutes passed and he got further into
it, his voice picked up confidence and understanding. Soon both boys had a good
grasp of which families were important, which had been invited, which hadn’t,
and the whys of all of it.
“It’s late,” Narcissa interrupted softly. “We can pick this up tomorrow.” She
didn’t want them to get run down again.
Draco ran his hand gently over Harry’s hair and softly squeezed the back of the
boy's neck. “Come on, Harry. Time for bed.”
Harry stood and gave Narcissa a sleepy smile. “Goodnight, Narcissa. Thank you
for teaching me.”
He thanked her after every lesson, and she could see that he was truly
grateful. She inclined her head, feeling her heart constrict. She wished she
could pull the sweet boy into a hug, but Draco’s watchful presence stopped her.
“You are very welcome, Harry. Sweet dreams,” she said instead, her voice soft
and full of affection.
Harry smiled sweetly as Draco took hold of his hand and led him from the room.
Chapter end.
***** Mind Arts *****
Mind Arts
Severus stepped out of the floo not knowing what to expect. At the request of
his teacher, Cyrus Greengrass, he’d admitted his gift for Occlumency. Not
wanting to reveal all his cards, however, he had maintained his surly, unhappy-
with-life attitude. The result was that Lucius was now suspicious about his
true loyalties, but he was still confident that Severus could be manipulated. 
After an interrogation and Severus giving carefully constructed answers, Lucius
had decided to allow him to teach his son. He had then sworn Severus to secrecy
to ensure that anything he saw in Draco’s mind would not be shared or used
against the boy. Severus knew from Dumbledore that the boys had suffered
terribly, but he didn’t know the specifics. Lucius’s intensity during the vow
made Severus wonder just how severe the abuse had been.
He’d seen the papers, of course, and the photos of a blank-faced, blond child
standing next to a messy-haired Potter who had looked distracted and bored,
much like his wretched father would have. Not even a press conference about him
seemed to hold Potter’s attention long. The photo didn’t prepare Severus,
however, for the stillness that Lucius’s child possessed. 
Seven years old and petite, Draco sat in a padded armchair in front of Lucius’s
office desk. It had been turned to face a second armchair meant for Severus.
The child turned only his head as Lucius opened the office door. His eyes were
grey and unblinking, his expression composed, as he tracked Severus’s progress
across the room. Just before sitting, Severus turned to look as he heard the
office door shut and was surprised to see that Lucius had left without a word
or even a veiled threat. He had warned Lucius that he’d want to be alone with
Draco during this lessons, but he had expected some resistance. 
Curious, Severus took the seat facing the child. Draco wore a plain Muggle t-
shirt, blue jeans, and battered sneakers. His hair was straight and framed his
face, falling just shy of his shoulders, much like Severus’s own pitch-black
hair, but where Severus’s hair was lank, thin, and oily, Draco’s was shiny and
thick. He’d have been a beautiful child if he weren’t so thin, his features
sharp. 
A small hand reached up to hook one side of his bangs behind an ear, and as an
arched, white-blond brow began to lift in amusement, Severus was startled to
realize he’d sat for several minutes in perfect silence just staring at the
boy. Straightening, he gave the child his most intimidating stare that made
many First-years quake. 
“I am Professor Snape. I’m here to teach you the art of Occlumency.”
“I know,” the child answered, unimpressed. His voice was steady and pitched
slightly lower than other children his age. “You should know that everyone who
looks in my mind has gotten sick.”
That was interesting. He eyed the child, but he could not detect any emotion in
the child’s face. “Does that bother you?” he asked curiously.
“Should it?” Draco asked back, never once looking away from Severus’s direct
stare.
Deciding now was as good a time as any, Severus silently and wandlessly cast,
Legilimens. Instantly, he was pulled forward by a powerful current of magic and
slipped behind those cool grey eyes. 
A dark and smothering jungle emerged from the darkness. Hot humid air pressed
against him, making his hair stick to his cheeks and neck. The chirps and
squeals of animals surrounded him, and he spun around as a violent but short
fight erupted from behind large green leaves. There was a shriek followed by
the stillness of death. 
Severus could feel the eyes of a hundred hungry creatures watching him. Looking
down he saw slick vines that would trip him up if he tried to push through the
bushes as most Legilimens would. They would look for a clearing, so that they’d
have room to breathe in this oppressive environment. They weren’t Severus,
however. 
Black eyes bright with challenge, he smiled. He hadn’t merely entered someone’s
mind. He was facing traps and defenses. Draco was naturally Occluding at a
rudimentary level. No one would suspect a child as young as Draco to have
enough conscious control over his mind to form an active defense. They would
have assumed this was merely Draco’s mental landscape and would have pushed
past without precaution, only entangling themselves further. No wonder the boy
had made the others sick. They hadn’t known what they were dealing with.
Severus crouched, ignoring the cries and rustling surrounding him. With
concentrated thought, his teaching robes morphed into plain black jeans and a
black, long-sleeved shirt. He also materialized a band so that he could tie his
hair back off his face. Comfortable and focused, he gently ran a finger over a
vine that lay criss-cross across the jungle floor.
“This is a good first shield, subtle and disorienting. It will trip up most
wizards who are passively trying to get a feel for your thoughts.”
Severus’s voice was pitched low, his tone calm, his mask falling away. It was
too hard to maintain a fabricated persona while simultaneously examining and
teaching a raw and untrained mind. Standing, he rolled his shoulders. 
“There will be those who will not be gentle or passive,” he warned, and a
machete with a gleaming blade appeared in his hand. “If this were your
unprotected mind, I could seriously injure you, but I am only going to attack
your defenses. It will cause you pain, but you will not be harmed.”
Lifting the blade, Severus swung it ruthlessly down, severing a palm frond and
a few hanging vines. The sounds of the animals and insects increased into a
cacophony of panic and rage. Severus ignored it and swung again, forcefully
creating a path deeper into the jungle. 
There was no warning hiss or growl. Just a flash of silver eyes, black scales,
and fangs before something heavy and hot crashed into him, tackling him to the
ground. Severus had milliseconds to act. Water exploding from his pores, he
screamed, flinging the hybrid monster away from his mental body. 
Drenched by his own defensive spell, Severus sat panting, his eyes wide as the
creature climbed to all fours on massive clawed paws. It stood dripping,
revealing green poison pooling in a snarling mouth full of sharp teeth. 
Severus had thought he was prepared for more defenses, but he hadn’t thought
the boy had already managed to create a guardian construct. As the beast
crouched, death in its eyes and preparing to leap, Severus did the only thing
he could. He fled.
Collapsing back into his chair, he sat panting, staring in wonder at the small
boy in front of him. Sweat dampened his skin, reminding him of the jungle in
the boy’s mind. Draco looked slightly paler and was also breathing hard, but he
still looked calm. He blinked at Severus, his hands rising to hook his hair
behind both ears. 
“That animal…” Severus did not know how to form his question. It was Draco’s,
but it also felt more developed than Draco’s mind could attest. There was
something he wasn’t seeing.
Draco leaned his head back against the armchair, his eyes half-closed as he
gazed back at Severus. “It’s been like that since the fairies.”
Severus’s eyes widened. “Fairies?”
The boy shrugged. “Got caught in their world for four months until they let us
go.” Suddenly the boy smiled, and it changed his face completely. He looked
young and bright. “At least you’re not puking.”
Severus shook his head in wonderment. Did the child not realize how incredible
his tale was? But Draco’s good humor was contagious and he found himself
smiling back. “You have incredible focus and self-awareness for your age. I
feel confident that you will be able to defend your mind from most attacks.”
Draco leaned forward. “Most?”
“Most,” he repeated firmly. “I’m not about to full out attack your mind to see
if you can withstand it. You have mastered the basics of Occlumency. This is
good because learning to protect your mind is not why I was summoned here.”
Draco leaned to the side, propping his cheek on a fist. “You’re here to stop
the memories from attacking me.”
Severus nodded, stringy black hair falling into his face. “Yes. I will show you
what to do, but you’ll have to let me through your defenses. I need to be able
to see your memories to show you how to contain them.” He eyed the boy
curiously. “Will you be able to do that?”
Surprisingly, Draco shrugged. “It’s not like I care if you see them. I’m not
scared or trying to keep them secret. Everyone seems to think I should, but
what happened, happened.” Expression suddenly fierce, he added, “I’m more
interested in making sure it never happens again, and I can’t do that if I lose
track of what’s really going on around me.”
Severus nodded understanding. Taking a deep breath, he fell back into Draco’s
eyes. 
He was standing in the jungle once more in his long-sleeved shirt and jeans,
but this time it was silent. Stepping carefully, watching the vines for any
tremor of movement, Severus reached forward and pushed through the screening
bushes. They slid wet and hot against his skin, clinging unnaturally but
letting him through. It grew darker and darker until Severus realized the
vegetation was gone and he stood upon a spiderweb of interconnected thoughts,
feelings, and memories held together by steel strands. Bracing himself, he
reached forward and plucked a strand. 
He was slammed to his knees as physical pain screamed through his body. A bed -
a man’s gleaming, hungry eyes - tied, bound, gagged - and so much PAIN!Mentally
curling up into a tight ball of endurance, a mad thing with only one thought…
survive!
Severus jerked away, horribly shocked. His edges blurred and he nearly lost his
grip on Draco’s mind. The web still sprawled before him. The steel threads
vibrating as the echoes of that memory rippled through the boy’s mind. Severus
hadn’t even entered the memory fully, just brushed it, and he’d been brought to
his knees. 
This boy had been tortured for days, months, possibly years. That level of pain
had sharpened the child’s consciousness to a degree that was animalistic. It
had shredded Draco’s reality matrix so that it only barely functioned as a
normal person’s. When Draco experienced something that matched a sensation from
those memories, his mind wouldn’t simply remember, it would return to that
moment, anchored by sheer physical misery. 
In a way, Draco was still there now, in that room being tortured. Part of his
mind would never leave. The torment he had survived went deeper than blood and
bone. It had carved deep crevices in Draco’s soul that were impossible to blunt
or erase. His personality had been forged by that pain, and he’d return again
and again until his mind broke down into true insanity. Draco would then step
into the role of torturer, becoming a serial killer that would hurt people
terribly in an effort to force his reality onto the world.
Severus felt sick and began to hyperventilate. He had to flee, run, get away!
It didn’t matter that steel bands were holding the blood-soaked tapestry
together. No matter how strong willed, eventually that strength would give out
and the hellish flood would be free. It was only a matter of… Was that gold? …
Severus squinted. Gold static was running down the threads, dancing and
flaring. 
Taking a step back, he looked and saw that it moved over every inch of Draco’s
matrix. He’d never seen anything like it. It was clearly not from Draco’s mind
and yet it was inseparable from it. Very, very carefully he set his finger to
the steel web and let the gold lick at his skin.
- anxiety love trust fear self-hate submission need despair desire pain
pleasure -a flood of emotion strummed through him. A memory triggered before
Severus could escape…
He was in a mind pared down to the bare essentials - no humanity, no awareness
of tomorrow or yesterday, just the cold, hard now of survival - when suddenly
it hurts a little bit less. Down in the swaying dark of hell, a naked, bruised
boy looks up at you with a desperate desire to please. Something soft and warm
against your ever-cold skin. Human touch that didn’t hurt, touch that warmed
and soothed. It sent shivers down your spine, made you tremble in reaction,
almost like shock. You watch as the boy sacrifices what he doesn’t even have to
give just to make you feel better. It lights something up inside you that had
been dark and dying: protectiveness, love, gratitude. It’s yours again, and you
will protect it, if you have to die trying, you will protect it because it’s
yours now. This fragile being with big green eyes, so lost and so very broken…
Severus reeled away from the too vivid sensations of Draco’s first interaction
with Harry. Maybe it was a combination of the trauma and Draco’s young age, but
everything felt so real. He shivered and pulled his mind in close and tight so
as not to touch anything else. 
At least there was hope. The bond to Harry had created a focus, an anchor, that
would rival the torture of Draco’s past. It supported the steel frame of sanity
that the boy had created by sheer force of will. As long as Harry was alive,
Draco would always be able to come back from his horrific memories, and merlin
forbid, if Harry ever died, Draco would thankfully follow not long after. The
bond had literally saved what was left of Draco’s mind and soul. Without it, he
would have become something too horrible to name.
Concentrating, Severus pushed words and concepts from his mind into Draco’s. He
wanted to be done here as quickly as possible. * Get a feel for where I am.
This is your memory matrix, the web of your identity and consciousness. Feel
how it all connects. *
Severus deliberately reached out and fished for the time in the Ministry. To do
this, he called up his memory of the paper and focused his mind on the photo of
Draco and Potter holding hands on a stage in the Ministry lobby. He felt the
reverberations of Draco’s version of that memory and hooked it, brining it to
the surface of the boy's conscious mind, making Draco remember that moment. 
* Your present is constantly spinning connections and associations to things in
the past or things you already know. Doing this, new knowledge and experiences
attach to your web and continue the narrative of your reality. When you were at
the Ministry, something reminded you of a time in the past. It linked into your
web using that similarity, but instead of a brief association, that memory
flooded into your present. *
Severus was there with Draco, on the stage, slowly feeling numbness spread as
he lost his hold on reality. * You knew it was coming. You could feel your
matrix warping. Memorize what it felt like. Pin-point the exact moment you
became aware of the connection being made to a memory consumed with pain. It is
then you will have to act.*
He held on as long as he could, but the memory that had overwhelmed Draco was
beginning to bleed through. Severus choked as he felt a too large plastic rod
thrust into his mouth. The pain in his jaw was sharp but was soon overwhelmed
by the burning agony of his cheeks and throat as it began to pound against
them. 
Severus pulled away, feeling like he was struggling through a nightmare. With
great force of will, he reoriented himself and broke the connection between
their minds. Immediately, his vision was filled with the dark bookshelves and
leather books filling the office, and he bent over, hands braced on his knees,
as he sucked in deep breaths of clean air. Touching another mind was never
pleasant, but this had been particularly horrible. As nausea churned his gut,
he had a sense of enormous sympathy for whoever else had entered Draco’s mind.
… 
Draco watched as the pale man curled over his knees, oily hair curtaining his
face from view, but most of his attention was on Harry. Shock unease confusion
-jumped and rattled through the bond. Harry had heard Snape in his mind as well
as Draco had, and that unsettled them both. Harry was Draco’s! No one else’s
belonged that close to Harry’s mind and heart.
* Come here, * he called, voice precise and sharp.
Head-pounding, his bond to Harry raw, Draco glared at the man across from him.
Snape wasn’t aware of his dangerous mood, of course, as he was still busy
trying not to puke. The office door opened, and Draco immediately turned to see
Harry. The little boy’s eyes were wide, his lips parted as he breathed quickly
from both distress and from running here. Leaving the door open, he hurried to
Draco’s side. 
Draco caught Harry by the arm and yanked him close. He slid to the edge of the
armchair, pressing his feet firmly on the ground. Harry was pliant in his hold
and easily sank to his knees when Draco applied pressure to his shoulder. Harry
knelt sideways between his legs, and he curled one arm around Draco’s leg, his
forehead pressed hard right above Draco’s knee. 
Snape sat directly in front of Draco, a mere two feet away. He could easily
touch Harry’s shoulder if he reached out. Draco stared into the man’s dark
eyes, challenging him, almost daring him to try and touch the boy on the floor.
Severus sat up, his vision swimming for a long second. This was Potter, messy
hair and black-framed glasses and all, but he hadn’t been prepared for how
green his eyes were. It was like a dagger through the heart. He was so
overwhelmed with old hatred, bitter jealousy and grief that at first he didn’t
know what he was seeing. 
Draco had made the boy kneel between his legs. Potter was kneeling!Eyes silver
and fierce, Draco stared Severus dead in the eye as he slipped his fingers
under the back of Potter’s collar. Potter was wearing a collar!The boy
immediately began to gasp as the collar pulled tight around his throat. His
face slowly turned red. Severus felt his mouth drop open, but no words came
out. He was too overwhelmed. His heart thundered in his chest, and he was
concerned he’d actually faint along with Potter, who also looked to be about to
pass out.
Draco’s heartbeat calmed as Harry submitted, and he thrilled in the fact that
Snape was watching. He hadn’t thought Snape could reach through him to Harry
like that, and a primal part of him needed Snape to know Harry was off-limits,
that he was Draco’s utterly and completely. 
* Mine. You belong to me. I take care of you. I love you. You’re mine, *Draco
purred, filling Harry’s mind with his words and voice, erasing the echoes of
Snape.
Just as Harry’s rasps became weaker and the arm curled around Draco’s leg fell
lax, Draco let the collar go. Harry gulped in air, smiling faintly as his head
spun with the rush of oxygen back in his lungs. His limp body was held firmly
between Draco’s thighs, and he felt at peace, claimed and protected by Draco
once more. 
- trust relief love -
Severus watched as Potter seemed to mold himself to the inside of Draco’s leg,
his head resting on the blond’s thigh. His eyes were closed behind his glasses,
his pink lips parted slightly as he sank into deep and even breathing. Draco
began to pet the boy’s messy hair, and he looked up to see that the blond’s
expression was smug.
Draco gave Severus a smile. “This is my Harry,” he all but purred. “Harry, this
is Snape.”
Severus could only stare helplessly as Potter turned his head so that he was
looking up at Severus and polite as can be, as if he weren’t kneeling between
the blond’s legs and had just been strangled, said, “Hello. It’s nice to meet
you.”
“Dobby,” Draco called. 
Severus had no idea what to think or feel right now. The customary pop followed
and an anxious, “Yes, Master?”, was heard. He didn’t look to see the elf, his
eyes held by Draco’s grey.
“Two ginger ales and cold rags please,” the boy ordered. 
The elf left to do as he was commanded and soon returned with the requested
items. 
Severus accepted the cool towel and dropped it over the back of his neck. It
took him a few more minutes to attempt the drink. He watched numb as Potter
came to life. The child took the towel from the elf and came up off his knees
so that he stood between Draco’s legs, facing the blond. Draco titled his head
back, hands resting on Potter’s waist, and closed his eyes as Potter gently
bathed his face. When the rag lost its chill, he turned Potter around and
scooted back, letting the boy sit on the end. He rested his chin on Potter’s
shoulder and wrapped the smaller boy in his arms. 
Severus sipped at the cold ginger ale the elf had given him, and he had to
admit it made him feel better.
“You didn’t show me how to stop it,” Draco suddenly spoke, not moving from his
comfortable position wrapped around Potter. 
Potter blinked his green eyes, watching Severus calmly, and Severus had to look
away, heart pounding once more.Lily!
“I will teach you a spell,” he said roughly. “You will have to perform it
silently and wandlessly on yourself with pin-point accuracy. It’s a variation
of the Obliviate, which erases memories. This spell will form a temporary
bubble around the memory of the flashback. You will still feel the emotional
effects, but you won’t remember and therefore won’t lose track of reality.
However, the bubble is temporary and you will eventually have to let the
flashback come. The effect of the flashback should be milder, however, as the
spell will have given you time to understand the trigger.”
Draco’s left foot began to bounce, reminding Severus of an agitated cat’s tail.
“Why does it have to play out later?”
Severus stared grimly into the child’s eyes and told him truthfully, “Because
there is no escaping the past.”
Harry turned his head, trying to see Draco, expression concerned. The blond
sighed and rubbed his cheek gently along his, asking, “How long do you think it
will take me to learn this spell?”
“I have no idea,” Severus admitted. The boy’s mind was way to unique to even
begin to guess. “It took me almost two years and I am naturally gifted in the
mind arts.”
Draco abruptly sat up, scowling. He looked a mess. His hair was damp and
falling around his face, dark circles ringed his eyes, and he looked
dehydrated. In spite of all that, his expression was fierce. “Two. Years.”
“There is no easy fix,” Severus snapped, eyes narrowed. Draco wasn’t the only
one to feel like crap. “You know that.”
The boy’s scowl darkened for a second before he relented. “I know.”
“You’re managing the flashbacks pretty well,” Severus offered. “And they don’t
happen often.”
“Only when I can least afford them to,” Draco drawled wryly. With another sigh,
he hugged Harry close before pushing him away so that he could stand. He took
Potter’s hand firmly in his own, saying, “Thank you for your time. I look
forward to learning the spell from you.”
Severus had nothing to say. He watched the boys leave the office utterly
dumbfounded, but he didn’t have time to stand there gaping. Lucius had
returned. Lucius shut the office door firmly behind himself and strode over to
his desk, placing himself behind it and facing Severus with his fingers linked
and resting on the desktop in front of him. Severus blanked his expression and
simply stared back at him, waiting for Lucius to make the first move.
“How was the lesson?” Lucius asked casually, but his eyes were too piercing to
be anything but predatory.
“It was a good beginning,” Severus answered as if from far away. He blinked,
realizing he was in shock. He had to leave. He stood abruptly. “I will need to
see Draco once a week. Please contact me with a convenient time.” 
He turned and walked carefully toward the door. He waited for Lucius to call
him back, but he never did. The door opened easily under his hand, and he was
dismayed to see his fingers trembling. Clenching his hands into fists, he made
his way as quickly as he dared to the receiving room and the Malfoy floo.
… 
Lucius turned his chair and stared thoughtfully out onto the Malfoy woods.
Severus had tried to hide it, but he hadn’t been well. Pale, skin clammy, eyes
too wide and face too blank, Severus had not been well indeed. It made Lucius
feel queasy, knowing his son’s mind made powerful wizards so ill. Closing his
eyes, he allowed himself a moment of quiet to just grieve the damage that had
been wrought on his son’s mind and body and be grateful that Severus hadn’t
refused to return.
Chapter end.
A/N:If you haven’t checked out Pixi56, you really should. She has uploaded new
art for this story that is really amazing. And if you have visited her page
before, you might want to check in again. She now has drawings of little Harry
as well as Draco!
***** Dancing *****
 
Dancing
Malfoy Manor was lit up like a shimmering star. Every window spilled golden
light onto the lawn and gardens. Facing the front door, the whole left side of
the first floor was filled with playful instrumental music. Upon entering the
foyer, Lottie greeted guests and took their invitations, guiding them into the
entrance hall. The crystal chandelier above them was at full light. The marble
floors shone with a mirror finish, the wide staircase glistened as if new,
beautiful statuary and portraits accented the walls, and at the base of the
staircase on the left-hand side stood the Malfoy family.
Lucius stood straight and proud, his hair pulled neatly back and tied expertly
with a black ribbon at the base of his neck, his hair falling in a glistening
tail between his shoulder blades. He wore sleek black dress robes that hugged
his shoulders and torso and flared out at the waist. Three tiny silver buttons
held the robe closed over his stomach. A bright white dress shirt, a gorgeously
textured deep blue vest and matching bowtie could be seen underneath the outer
robe. Perfectly tailored pants were tight along his muscled thighs and fell
over leather boots with an inch heal. His cane rested under his right hand
while his left arm was crooked for Narcissa’s hand.
Narcissa was his perfect match, skin slightly paler than his and with hair a
darker pale yellow to the Malfoy platinum. It was done in a perfectly intricate
knot with clear crystals strewn throughout, and she wore a diamond-colored gown
that fell off both shoulders. The long sleeves were thin and gauzy, the corset
tight across her bodice, hugging her slender ribcage. The dress flared out at
her hips, falling in white and silver drapes and ruffles to the floor.
Sapphires ringed her neck in two layers, one strand against her throat and the
other falling over her sternum. Diamonds hung from her ears. 
Draco and Harry stood at her side in nearly identical robes to Lucius except in
miniature. The only difference was that Harry’s vest and bowtie were black
compared to Lucius and Draco who were the Malfoy blue. Draco, of course, was
miserable in the heavy, constricting clothes. However, you could not see it on
his face. He kept a perfectly calm expression, lips turned up in a polite
smile. Harry stood flushed and nervous, eyes lowered behind round black
glasses. He held tightly to Draco’s hand, anxious about messing up.
Guests were greeted by Narcissa and Lucius and then gave their compliments to
Draco and birthday wishes to Harry. Then they were guided to the left and into
the long ballroom. The inside wall was covered in a single long mirror, making
the room seem twice as wide as it really was. The outside wall held large
windows that spilled light out onto the front lawn. 
Enormous chandeliers glistened and filled the room with soft, beautiful light.
Spelled fireflies in soft gold and white fairy lights twinkled and shimmered
above the guests’ heads. The white and grey pattern of the shinning marble
floor swirled together to create a delicate spiral that dancers could follow
during the waltz. 
Seven pillars stood along the mirrored wall. Greenery and flowers were draped
and hung along the ceiling between them. Long tables covered in beautiful,
hand-stitched lace tablecloths were set with finger foods, champagne flutes,
wine glasses, and dozens of different types of deserts. In the center along
that wall and on a raised platform, slightly faded images of Malfoys from the
years past played various instruments. 
The instruments were real and had been enchanted with the memory of the Malfoy
who had played them in life. There were twelve instruments in all: two violins,
a cello, one clarinet, two harps, and a piano. The music they produced was
beautiful and light. It was an impressive and inspiring bit of magic, a not-so-
subtle display of Malfoy power.
Narrow and long, the ballroom had at first seemed too large for a birthday
party that had only fifteen kids invited, but as the guests continued to
arrive, the space slowly began to fill. Twelve-year-old Marcus Flint was the
first to arrive with his parents in tow. Draco had demanded a list of former
Death Eaters who were invited, and so he was aware that Lord Flint carried the
Dark Mark. Draco watched him carefully, but when he spoke to Harry, there was
no hint of hostility.   
Second came seven-year-old Earnest Macmillan with his parents. They were
Neutral, and Draco had expected the family to be nervous. Instead, the family
was very haughty and gave compliments only by making a comparison to their own
home or property. 
Then six-year-old Hannah Abbott arrived. Her parents plus her aunt, who was
Head of the Family, and her uncle came with her. Her mother just happened to be
Draco and Harry’s caseworker: Abigail Abbott, Head of the Department of Magical
Child Services. Mrs. Abbott assured both boys after greeting them that she was
here in a completely unofficial capacity and she thanked Narcissa again for her
thoughtful invitation.
Next, identical twin girls stepped up to greet the boys. They were introduced
as five-year-old Flora and Hestia Carrow. Like Hannah, they arrived with their
parents as well as an aunt. Their father and their aunt just happened to be
twins as well, and they were the most intimidating bunch who had arrived so
far, with unblinking stares and too-wide smiles. Amycus and Alecto Carrow were
also Death Eaters, but again Draco didn’t sense any particular malice when they
spoke to Harry. Still, Draco’s hand tightened around his boy’s until the
Carrows finally finished their greetings and left them to enter the ballroom.
The next guest was most welcome. Dora arrived with her mother. They wore
matching purple gowns, except Dora’s was off the floor, the puffy skirt
swirling around her ankles. It also covered her chest and had full sleeves
while Andromeda’s gown consisted of a sleeveless corset. Draco accepted Dora’s
hug and didn’t protest when she also flung her arms around Harry. The thirteen-
year-old was smiling widely, clearly delighted to be at the ball.
Seven-year-old Theodore Nott arrived with only his father. Lord Nott was older
than Lucius and he seemed very solemn and stern. Theodore wasn’t nearly that
cold, blushing and ducking his head, reminding Draco of Harry. Nott was another
Death Eater. He greeted Harry as he was expected to, but he said the bare
minimal. However, he spoke the same to Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco, so perhaps
that was just his way and not a sign that he wanted Harry dead.
Seven-year-old Vincent Crabbe and six-year-old Gregory Goyle arrived together
with their parents. Narcissa and Lucius greeted them with the most familiarity
so far. The two boys were overweight, blond, and blue-eyed. They were cousins,
their mothers sisters. Harry’s nervousness spiked and he tucked his face into
Draco’s shoulder. Narcissa prevented things from getting awkward by telling
Mrs. Crabbe and Mrs. Goyle that she looked forward to talking more in the
ballroom, dismissing them. Draco didn’t have time to ask Harry why he was so
upset by those particular families, but he would be sure to ask him later.
Seven-year-old Pansy Parkinson arrived with her Death Eater father and her
mother. They were all dark-haired and not very beautiful, their features too
severe, but they were intelligent. It showed in their eyes and the confident
way they spoke. This was another family greeted warmly by Lucius and Narcissa.
Seven-year-old Millicent Bulstrode arrived with her parents next. Her father
was also a Death Eater. Lord Bulstrode greeted Harry stiffly, but the mother
and daughter smiled warmly before being led away. They were the first family
where the women said nothing, not even a greeting, the father doing all the
talking. Draco watched them, thinking that he could easily win Millicent over.
The next family to arrive was Neutral, and after greeting so many Dark
families, they were very welcome. Six-year-old Daphne Greengrass and her little
sister, five-year-old Astoria, arrived with their father Iason Greengrass and
their mother, as well as their grandfather, Lord Cyrus Greengrass. However,
Draco noticed the way Iason’s hand tightened on Daphne’s shoulder when she
spoke to Draco, which was interesting. It seemed Iason still had a problem with
him.
The last two families to arrive came together just as the Crabbe and Goyle
families had. Fifteen-year-old Thorfinn Rowle and thirteen-year-old Euphemia
Yaxley were also cousins. Both families were Dark, the fathers were both Death
Eaters, and their mothers were sisters. They greeted Lucius and Narcissa
politely, expressed seemingly genuine well-wishes to Draco for his return, and
eyed Harry warily. Draco grinned, showing his teeth. 
With the last guest having arrived, Lucius led them into he ballroom, and they
made their way over to the platform with the instruments. A wave of Lucius’s
hand and they came to a stop, silence replacing the sound of music. 
“I am happy so many of you chose to attend this auspicious occasion for my
family as we celebrate the return of our son, Draco, and the birth of our ward,
Harry Potter. Please enjoy the refreshments our elves have prepared. We shall
begin the dance shortly.” 
Turning, he started up the music again, and Narcissa gestured Draco and Harry
to a corner of the ballroom where couches, armchairs, and a few games and toys
were set out. Draco noticed a chess board, magical dominos, Exploding Snap, and
quoits (a magical ring toss game). Following their example, the kids of each
family broke away from their groups to follow the boys to the “children’s
corner”. 
Dora was the first to approach them, her skirt swishing around her as she
walked. “Draco! Harry! This place is incredible!” she exclaimed and flopped
into an armchair, her dress rising up around her, making her laugh.
Draco noticed the others giving Dora either shocked or disgusted looks. In
comparison, the other girls - Hannah, Euphemia, and Pansy - sat perfectly
gracefully on a long couch, carefully holding and pressing their skirts so that
it pillowed around them in an orderly fashion. Thorfinn and Marcus stood
together against the wall, wine glasses in hand, while Theodore sat on a
smaller couch next to Earnest. 
Earnest sniffed and flicked at the arm of the couch as if it might be dirty,
while Theodore clasped his hands in his lap and watched Daphne and Millicent.
The girls had chosen to sit on the floor with the dominoes. 
Vincent and Gregory stood awkwardly at the edge of their gathering, blinking
slowly and looking somewhat confused. Meanwhile, Astoria stood next to the
couch with the three girls and was being questioned by the unsettling twins:
Flora and Hestia. About what, Draco could only imagine. He had chosen to stand
next to the armchair he had directed Harry to sit in. It was placed next to the
one Dora had chosen. 
“So. What do you think about the Wizarding world so far?” Thorfinn asked
neutrally, eyes on Draco. He was an intimidating teen, tall and broad-
shouldered with thick, sandy blond hair and dark hazel eyes. 
Draco met his gaze easily in spite of Thorfinn standing almost as tall as
Lucius. “What can I say?” he drawled. “It’s different.”
“You lived with Muggles?” Marcus asked, a sneer on his lips, his thick brows
hanging over his eyes in a glare. He had dark, curly hair and pale white skin,
making him look like a kid vampire. He was also wide and thick for a kid only
twelve.
“Oh shut it,” Dora cut in, scowling back at him. She had finally wrestled her
dress into place. “Unless you want to talk about your adventure getting lost in
Salisbury and falling into that gnome’s den. That’s a way worse place to live,
don’t you think?”
Marcus flushed red, glaring angrily at Dora. “Who told you that?”
Dora fluffed her platinum blond hair, an identical shade to Draco’s, as her
eyes brightened to Harry’s emerald green. She was about to retort when Draco
put hand on her shoulder.
“We’re not here to fight,” he cut in. Giving Marcus a cool smile, he answered,
“I lived a bunch of places before coming here, not just with Muggles.” Then
turning to Thorfinn, he asked, “You’re in Hogwarts?”
“Hufflepuff,” Thorfinn drawled and tipped his head at Dora. “Like Tonks, but
I’ll be starting my Fifth-year.”
Draco turned his eyes expectantly to a still red-faced and scowling Marcus.
“I’ll be a Second-year Slytherin,” the teen bit out.
“I’m a Ravenclaw,” Euphemia spoke up, voice soft and polite. She had soft brown
hair that fell to her waist in waves; her bangs were tied back with a ribboned
bow. Her eyes were almost the same shade of brown as her hair, and her skin was
tan. In her white dress, she was very pretty. “I’ll be starting my Fourth-year
like Dora.”
“How do you like it?” Draco asked, but then he lifted his eyebrow in a wry
expression as he eyed Marcus and Dora. “Or will that make you guys fight some
more?”
“It’s great,” Dora offered, looking around to see if anyone would argue with
that. No one did. “It’s huge! Seeing it for the first time is like seeing magic
itself. Quidditch is really popular and the classes are challenging, but it’s
all stuff you can use, mostly, so it’s interesting.”
“I’m going to try out for Quidditch this year,” Marcus spoke up. He finally
lost his scowl and smiled. “Eventually I’ll be captain.”
“Slytherin is one of the strongest Houses at Quidditch,” Thorfinn explained,
tone neutral. “They’re the type to do anything to win.”
“He’s calling us cheaters,” Marcus clarified, grinning. “But it’s not cheating
or we’d get called on it.”
Dora laughed. “You do. Your team has almost double the fouls as Hufflepuff.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Marcus promised, grinning.
“I’m glad I’ll be out of Hogwarts by then,” Thorfinn said with a laugh. “An
evil villain is taking up the team.”
“How’d you and Potter meet anyway?” Pansy broke into the conversation, voice
slightly rushed as if anxious to join in.
Harry looked up at Draco at the same time as Draco looked down at him. A small
smile curled Draco’s lips and his grey eyes seemed to twinkle when he answered,
“On a pirate ship.”
The group of magical kids stared at him with wonder and disbelief.
Draco’s smile widened. “You don’t have to believe me, but we were kidnapped and
held on a pirate ship.” His voice dropped as if sharing a secret. “They made us
work, even during storms, the deck rocking back and forth. We escaped by taking
out the captain. Knocked him right overboard. Then we jumped ship and ran into
an American city. It had huge towers made of metal and glass. If you looked at
them when the sun was shinning, it’d blind you!”
“You’re making that up,” Marcus muttered, his dark scowl back again.
Draco shrugged and leaned against Harry’s chair, unconcerned. “Believe what you
want.”
“Can we see your scar?” Flora and Hestia asked at the same time, eyes on
Harry. 
They were done with whatever issue they had with Astoria. Astoria had slipped
in next to her sister on the floor, looking very relieved to be away from the
other two. The twins were now flanking Dora’s chair, sitting on either side
like matching bookends, one in a pale pink gown and the other in dove grey.
With ruler-straight black hair and hungry eyes, they looked like they were from
a scary movie.
Draco eyed the group. They all seemed interested, even the shy ones like
Theodore and Millicent. After some thought, during which the group around them
held their breath, he finally told Harry across their bond,* Go ahead. Lift
your hair. *
Harry obediently reached up to hold his messy bangs away from his forehead. The
kids around them made soft sounds as they leaned forward to see it clearly. The
famous lightning bolt was pale white against Harry’s skin, slightly off center
to the left. It started an inch below his hairline and stopped at his left
eyebrow. 
“Do you remember the night He came?” Flora - the one in pink - asked avidly,
dark brown eyes wide and excited.
“Did it hurt?” Hestia - the one in grey - added, expression identical to her
sisters.
Draco tilted his head curiously, a plan blooming in his mind. Dora opened her
mouth with a glare, but a look from Draco silenced her. He lifted his hand to
stroke Harry’s hair once, happy that his boy had been relatively calm so far,
just the normal level of - nervousness - that he usually exhibited. 
* Harry, I want you to tell them exactly what I tell you, *he purred into
Harry’s mind. * I want you to drop your mask when you do. Show them your true
face. *
- anxiety trust -
* Good boy, * he said, stroking his hair once more. * Tell them… *
Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. He’d been trying so hard to remain calm and
not mess this important night up for Draco and Narcissa. He’d concentrated on
looking blank and normal, eyes up and staying as relaxed as possible. It had
helped once they sat down with Draco standing over him and touching him. Draco
could handle anything, and it relaxed his nerves that the blond was in control.
Now Draco wanted him to drop the mask he’d used as a focus. What if they saw
how filthy he was? What if he ruined everything? But Draco told him to, and he
trusted Draco. 
Mouth parting slightly as his breathing grew fast and light. His eyes widened
behind his glasses and his hand dropped from his bangs, shaking slightly. Sweat
began to dew on his upper lip and hairline. Clasping his hands tightly in his
lap, his fingers bleached white. When he spoke, his voice shook and he hardly
got his words out above a whisper, - terrified - he’d get this wrong.
“I remember it…” He swallowed, eyes wide as he listened to Draco’s voice in his
head. He dropped his gaze to his lap, unable to look the other kids in the eye
without his mask. “No one thinks I should. I was a baby, but… maybe it’s
magic?” 
Draco smirked. You could hear a pin drop. The kids were frozen, eyes glued to
Harry, hanging on his every word.
“I didn’t know it at the time, but looking back…” Harry continued, lower lip
trembling. “He wasn’t human any more. His eyes were red, and he had this laugh…
like a little girl, really. He was crazy. Completely out of control. Narcissa’s
teaching us a little bit about magic, and I think…” His eyes darted around, as
if checking that no adult would overhear. “I think he was tenebris malus.”
That basically meant sick with darkness or insane with darkness. It was a
condition that befell Dark magic users who became consumed and broken by the
magic. It was deeply shameful, but it was also common for those who pushed too
far into Dark magic. You’d be insane to follow someone in the grips of tenebris
malus;the person was locked into a destructive spiral that always, always led
to a very messy death. 
All Dark families taught their children about Dark madness and told the tragic
stories of the wizards who had succumbed as warnings. Narcissa had already
mentioned it several times on their nightly walks after dinner down the Hall of
Portraits. If Draco could make these kids believe - and possibly their families
believe - Voldemort had become tenebris malus, it would be a step toward
weakening the Dark Lord’s support structure. It would also build their
reputations if Harry had survived the attack of someone caught in the grips of
Dark madness.
“You’re making that up,” Marcus blustered, but his voice was faint and
uncertain.
Draco had the same answer for him as before. Leaning against Harry’s chair,
expression unconcerned but his eyes fierce, he said, “Believe what you want.”
The music stopped as Narcissa gracefully ascended the stage. “Ladies and
gentlemen, let the dance begin.”
Lucius stood at the base of the stairs and offered his hand up toward his wife.
She took it and he led her into the center of the room. The guests backed off
to give them space, and Lucius led Narcissa into a waltz. Her gown flared
around her as they twirled, her head held in a graceful arc as she looked into
the direction of every twirl. They moved so beautifully together. 
Slowly other couples took hands and joined them, their bodies adding to the
fluid pattern Lucius and Narcissa spelled out. 
Thorfinn came around and approached the couch with the three girls. “May I have
this dance?” he asked, bowing before Euphemia.
She accepted his hand and they joined the dancers twirling on the floor.
Marcus, a slight blush on his face, asked Pansy to dance. Earnest took Hannah,
and Theodore offered his hand to the quiet Millicent. Quite against convention,
the five-year-old Carrow twins pulled the slow-blinking Vincent and Gregory
onto the floor without waiting for them to ask. 
Draco prodded Harry to offer his hand to Dora, reminding him to try and put his
mask back on. As they walked past, Harry only as tall as Dora’s shoulders,
Draco grabbed her arm and whispered, “Take the lead, but don’t be obvious. He’s
a nervous dancer, and I don’t want him to look bad.”
- gratitude relief - flowed softly through the bond. Harry felt grateful that
Draco was taking care of him; made him feel like maybe he wouldn’t mess this
up.
Dora gave Draco a serious nod and carefully guided Harry into an open spot
amongst the dancers. With a smile, she said, “Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll probably
trip at some point, so if we look awkward, everyone will think it’s me!”
Satisfied that Harry would be okay even as - anxiety fear- strummed through the
bond, Draco looked at the remaining girls of the group. Daphne and Astoria
still sat on the floor, their ball gowns pooling around them. They had almost
the same shade of golden hair and dark green eyes, and they looked up at him
with equally expectant expressions. Draco knew he’d have to dance with all the
girls at some point, as it was only polite, but who he chose first would make a
statement.
He chose Astoria. She was a few inches shorter than him, about Harry’s height.
They would look better dancing together as long as she followed his lead. 
She accepted his hand with a blush, coming to her feet in one smooth motion,
her leaf green gown swishing. He put his hand on her waist and lifted his other
to shoulder height. She moved with him easily. It wasn’t as smooth as dancing
with Harry, but they looked good together, her dress flaring beautifully on
every turn. The song ended and he turned to find Pansy ending her dance with
Marcus with a curtsy. 
* Ask Astoria to dance, *Draco ordered down the bond, catching sight of Harry
standing uncertainly off to the side. “May I have this dance?” he asked out
loud, holding his hand to Pansy. She accepted his hand and stood with an
excited smile. 
Harry found Astoria and in a soft voice asked, “May I have this dance?”
The girl blushed the same as she had for Draco and took Harry’s slightly damp
and trembling hand. She was very sweet and slow as she moved with Harry onto
the dance floor. As they settled into the steps for the waltz, it was stiff and
awkward, but she was patient and kind, so it went okay. 
Harry was nearing his limit as the song came to an end, and he practically
stumbled back over to the chairs in the corner when Draco allowed him to take a
break. Millicent and Hannah were the odd girls out for the third dance. He sat
there, not knowing what to say, when Hannah broke the ice.
“Draco’s a good dancer,” she offered.
Harry practically lit up. “Draco’s the best.”
“What’s it like having a bond?” Millicent asked quietly.
Harry glanced up at her with his big green eyes before ducking his head with a
smile. “Draco saved me. It feels like… like… being safe and alive and…” he
trailed off, not knowing how to say all the feelings he felt.
Hannah clasped her hands, grinning. “That sounds so cool! The papers say it’s a
twin bond, so maybe it’s how other twins feel, too. My mum said it’s really
rare for people who aren’t really twins to make a twin bond, so you must be
very special.”
“Draco’s special,” Harry explained anxiously. “Not me.”
The girls looked at each other, unsure what to say next. Hannah brightened,
knowing it was always safe to give compliments. “You look beautiful,
Millicent.”
“Thank you,” the shy girl answered, smiling. “You, too.”
“This is only my second ball,” Hannah continued. “I think I love them. Dancing
is so fun!”
The next song started and Draco prompted him to ask Millicent to dance. He
obeyed, feeling queasy from nerves. A mask was one thing - he represented Draco
and the Malfoys now and he had to act a certain way - but touching other people
made him feel jittery. He was filthy, and he was afraid he’d contaminate them.
* Remember your nice clothes and how good you look. You’re mine. You aren’t
dirty when you’re doing things for me, *Draco whispered into his mind, somehow
knowing exactly what Harry was afraid of. 
Draco’s words settled his nerves a little bit, and he relaxed slightly into
Millicent’s gentle hold. His clothes were very nice, it was true, and it felt
like a protective armor. An armor that would protect others from him. It
allowed him enough peace of mind to take a deep breath and move with Millicent
across the floor. 
The dancing continued until Draco had danced with all the girls they had
invited. Harry had taken a few breaks, avoiding by Draco’s direction the more
aggressive girls. Showing Harry was affected by memories of the night he was
orphaned was one thing, allowing the girls to push Harry around was another.
Draco wouldn’t allow it, so Harry only danced with Dora, Astoria, Millicent,
and Daphne. 
Despite Draco’s encouragement, Harry was on the verge of collapse after his
fourth dance. He’d managed to hide it mostly, but he was ghostly pale and tears
had gathered in the corner of his eyes. He didn’t belong here, dancing and
trying to belong. Harry repeated his mantra over and over in his head - I
belong to Draco! - to remind himself that Draco belonged here and he belonged
to Draco. Harry had to do his part, but the stress was getting to him and he
knew it, which stressed him out more because he could feel himself crumbling.
Draco strode over to where his boy stood frozen near the center of the dance
floor, looking blankly at the curtsying Daphne and completely lost on what to
do next. Ignoring Daphne’s concerned expression, Draco offered his hand to his
boy. 
Harry took it without thought, and as soon as their skin came into contact,
Draco was able to press his presence down the bond like a heavy weight against
Harry’s mind. Harry visibly relaxed, and Draco tugged him firmly against his
chest. The room faded away as their senses locked on each other.
Narcissa became aware of the disturbance as her dance partner’s steps slowed to
a stop. She followed Lord Nott’s eyes to see Harry held close by Draco,
waltzing together in the center of the floor. 
Draco’s hands weren’t anywhere inappropriate, his right hand firmly on Harry’s
waist and his dominant hand holding Harry’s hand up and out at shoulder-height,
but there was no space at all between their chests. Harry’s head was bowed
forward, resting on top of Draco’s shoulder in a show of complete submission as
he moved blindly. The nape of his neck was revealed, and the black collar could
be seen above his robe line.
They moved as one, not a single awkward moment between them. Draco pressed
forward and Harry moved back. Every turn and step Draco took was smooth and yet
forceful; Harry offered no resistance. It was almost art, the graceful way they
cut across the floor. It was stirring and shocking, especially because they
were still children and yet there was an undeniable hint of sexuality in their
movements. Within moments, all the dancers stopped until Draco and Harry were
encircled by an awestruck audience. 
Narcissa met Lucius’s eyes. She could see him thinking furiously behind his
perfectly blank mask on how to spin this and save Draco’s secret, but perhaps
this was for the best. It would set the stage and start rumors so that when
Draco came out to the world about his relationship with Harry it wouldn’t be so
shocking. 
She glanced at the expressions on their guests’ faces. Surprise sat on most of
them and also appreciation for the display of undeniable beauty in their
movements, but she could already see the shadings of suspicion and disapproval
beginning to register on the faces of the Macmillans and Lord Bulstrode. 
Purebloods, and especially those from the sacred bloodlines, would have been
taught to hate and be disgusted by homosexuals. Such a thing was a real and
direct threat to the continuation of their history and culture.
Lucius moved with fake calm to the stage and cut the song short only by a few
moments, so that it didn’t seem too awkward or deliberate. He gave the room a
cool smile and said, “Let us take a break from all the dancing and have the
boys accept their gifts. Draco, Harry, if you would join me.”
Draco took Harry by the hand and moved confidently forward, unaffected by the
intense scrutiny of the crowd. Harry looked much calmer, but he still ducked
his head when he felt the weight of those stares. 
The two stood side-by-side in front of the stage, Lucius placing himself to
their right, Narcissa moving gracefully next to her husband. Their guests
slowly formed a half-circle around the Malfoy family, enlarging and/or
summoning the gifts they had brought. The boys accepted each gift with words of
appreciation memorized before hand. They examined each one and set them gently
aside on the stage. Narcissa took mental notes so that they may personalize
each thank-you note they would send. 
They received typical things, like books, plants, and games, what kids would
normally receive from strangers. After the gift giving, the circle broke up
into a more informal gathering. Some began to dance again, a couple of the kids
moved back toward the corner with seats and toys to whisper together, others
visited the food tables. Narcissa swept Harry into a dance while Lucius put a
hand on his young son’s shoulder.
“You should keep certain things close,” Lucius murmured quietly.
Draco glanced up at his father. “Harry’s mine. I’ll never pretend otherwise.”
Lucius bit back the flood of words he wanted to say: They won’t understand!
They will ostracize you! They will make your life miserable! You will have no
connections, no marriage offers, no children!Some of it must have shown in his
expression, however, because Draco sighed and briefly touched the back of
Lucius’s hand.
“Look,” he said softly, quickly. “I’m the lost child and Harry’s the-Boy-Who-
Lived. We’re rich and have all of the Malfoy status. We got ties to the Muggle
world and Faerie. Our past is mysterious and exciting. The worst thing we can
do is turn out to be normal. We’ll shock them, sure, but it’ll keep them
wanting more, too.” He crooked his finger, making Lucius bend down. Cupping his
hand around his lips so no one could read them, he whispered, “But most
important of all, I want it clear that anyone who messes with Harry will have
to go through me. Because nothing else matters more than that, Lucius.” 
The quiet ferocity in Draco’s voice was heart stopping. Straightening, he
subtly tugged at his sleeves, trying to settle his mind as his son strode off
toward the corner with a few of the other children. 
If being shocking was Draco’s aim, his son excelled at it. However, Lucius
still wasn’t convinced that Draco had as much power as he thought he did. It
was a very dangerous line he walked, and Lucius was hardly confident that his
son fully understood the consequences he could suffer.
… 
Draco gave a cool smirk as Euphemia, Marcus, Earnest, and Hannah fell silent at
his approach. He looked each in the eye before choosing an armchair to sit in.
He braced his elbow on the arm and rested his cheek on his fist, lips still
quirked. The others stared back like lost sheep.
“I love dancing,” Draco finally drawled, voice heavy with meaning. “Don’t you?”
The others shifted uncomfortably, but before they could come up with something
to say, Harry arrived, coming to stand next to the arm of the chair Draco was
leaning against. 
His mask was in place, so he looked back at the other kids, blinking slowly,
expression calm. Inside, he was -uneasy uncertain. Draco made no move to
acknowledge him, keeping his attention on the group of kids across from him.
They looked more confused and uncertain than ever, shooting glances at each
other, stuck. 
Fortunately for them, Dora bounced up, her ball gown swishing and sighing, a
grin on her face. “Tell us more about the pirate ship, Draco!” She folded with
unusual grace for her onto the floor near their feet, staring up at him with
exaggerated interest.
Draco snorted and sat up, patting the arm of the chair for Harry to sit. Harry
did so, happily ducking his head so that he could watch Draco instead of the
others around them. “Well, the captain was a mean brute. Wide enough to almost
touch each wall of the narrow hallway below deck with wild dark hair to his
shoulders. He was always glaring, except when there was blood. He always smiled
when there was blood, and when he smiled, his teeth gleamed like a shark’s.”
“Was he a wizard?” Pansy asked, having arrived to hear him start the tale. She
had Vincent and Gregory with her. They took a seat on one of the near couches
to listen.
“I’m not sure. Never saw him with a wand, but I wouldn’t see it, would I, if he
was on the run.” Draco lowered his voice, painting a story with his voice.
“They’d make land at night when there was no moon and hide during the day far
out on the ocean where no one could find them. I was kept down below during the
raids, but I could hear them, the pirates yelling and cheering as they came
aboard with the treasure they stole or the people they captured to play with.
They’d have huge parties, drinking and singing, and I’d watch them through the
floorboards.”
By that time, the rest of the kids had ambled over to see what was going on.
Thorfinn leaned against the wall - Eupemia, Millicent, and Hannah shared a
couch with Earnest and Marcus sitting on each arm - Pansy, Vincent, and Gregory
shared another one - Dora was on the floor - the twins had squeezed in next to
each other on a single armchair - and Theodore stood silently behind the couch
Pansy had chosen. All of them were riveted on Draco, captivated by his story.
In fact, the only two missing were Daphne and Astoria, who were standing with
their father. Iason had a hand on each girl’s shoulder, keeping them close and
away from Draco.
“Once,” Draco told his listeners, voice low and secretive. “There was a great
storm. I thought we were done for. The sky was black as if you were in a room
with no lights, no stars, no moon, nothing. The only light came from the lamps
hanging on the ship. The wind howled. Like a beast or someone screaming on the
top of their lungs. And it rocked! Like this.” He demonstrated, swaying one way
and then the other. “The pirates couldn’t even stand. Falling over and hitting
the walls. They were yelling, trying to fight the boat and keep us floating.
The captain stood front and center on the deck, holding onto the wheel. The
rain came down in sheets. You couldn’t see anything more than an arm’s length
in front of you, and it was cold! Like ice cold. Thunder would hit and it shook
the whole boat.” He clapped his hands, grinning when half of the kids jumped.
“Lightning even hit the mast and caught it on fire, but the rain was coming
down so hard that it put it out in a minute!”
“What happened next?” Flora asked, breathless, clinging to her sister, clearly
thrilled.
“The waves lifted the ship up and dropped it down with a huge crash.” Draco
demonstrated with his hands, lifting them up and slamming them down on his
thighs. “The bottom of the ship flooded and some of the people they'd captured
died.” He took note of the horrified looks on Theodore, Millicent, and Hannah’s
faces. “They floated up to the top, bouncing there along the bottom of the
deck. Thump! Thump! Thump!” 
“Ew!” Hannah squealed and was quickly shushed by Earnest, who was afraid Draco
would stop the story.
“What’d they look like?” Marcus demanded in a hushed whisper. 
“They were white and swollen, full of cold water. They looked like white dolls,
shinny and smooth with their eyes staring wide open.”
Millicent looked ill and she wasn’t the only one, but some of the others wanted
more. Draco made note of the Carrows, Marcus, and Earnest. Their enjoyment told
Draco all he needed to know to control them.
Draco shrugged. “Eventually, the storm quieted down. I had to go gather up all
the dead ones floating in the dark below deck and bring them up top. The
pirates were pissed. They chopped up the bodies right there. Whack!” Hannah and
Millicent jumped while Theodore shivered, looking green. “And fed them to the
sharks.”
“You’re so full of shite,” Thorfinn muttered, grinning, but Draco could see the
uncertainty in his eyes. The teen couldn’t tell for sure he was lying, which
suited Draco just fine.
Once more, Draco told them, “Believe what you want.” He met each of their eyes,
letting them see the weight of experience in his own.
On cue, Harry stepped away from Draco and offered his hand to Millicent. “Would
you like to dance?” he asked softly, sweetly.
She gratefully took his hand to get away from Draco and his story.
Draco gave a wicked smile. “Harry’s right. We should dance while we can.” He
stood. Most of the girls looked horrified that he would choose them, but not
the Carrow sisters, and Draco held his hand out to Hestia. “Care to dance?”
She gave him a wild smile and took it; Flora pouted.
Harry danced with Dora next while Draco chose Pansy. 
Most of the adults stood around the edges of the room in ever changing clumps
and groups, gossiping. Narcissa and Lucius made their rounds, playing the game.
Everyone ate and drank, the mood becoming less alert and more relaxed as
alcohol was consumed. 
As the night wore on, Draco was pulled into a few games of quoits, a weird
magical ring toss game, with the boys. Harry ate some cake with the girls
nearby, Dora sitting next to him watchfully, but they left him mostly alone.
Eventually, Draco took Harry by the hand and guided the group of kids outside
where he summoned Caelius and Agrippa. 
The kids were all impressed with the stallions, their white coats seeming to
glow under the moonlight. A few - Hannah, Dora, Pansy, and Theodore - even
asked to pet them. Caelius was too nervous for that, but Agrippa allowed the
kids to stroke his forehead, nose, and along his neck.
“I want a horse,” Pansy gushed. “I’m going to ask Father to get me one.”
“Won’t be one like this,” Thorfinn told her, impressed with the animal.
With a scowl, she stomped her foot. “Will too!” she screeched.
Agrippa reared up, causing the kids to scatter, before galloping away with
Caelius on his heels. 
Pansy blushed in embarrassment as everyone - except for Theodore, Millicent,
Harry, and Draco - laughed.
Harry offered her a sweet smile. “I’m sure your horse will be beautiful,
Pansy.”
She smiled and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks, Harry.”
Draco watched this interplay with interest.
It wasn’t long after that when parents began to gather their children. The
adults offered Draco and Harry well-wishes once more as they left, taking in
Draco’s calm expression and Harry’s shy one avidly during the goodbyes. Draco
noticed several of the men promising to write Lucius, and he smirked. Dancing
with Harry hadn’t done anything more than keep everyone interested just as he’d
said. 
He also noticed when several of the mothers suggested to Narcissa that they
have tea soon. Draco watched this interaction curiously, pleased when Narcissa
acknowledged the comments but made no commitments. He knew that in the eyes of
these Purebloods he was an acceptable candidate to marry their daughters, and
it made him curious to know how Narcissa and Lucius pictured that going. Draco
made a mental note to ask Narcissa later. 
Finally, all their guests were gone, and they were free. As soon as he could,
Draco pinned Harry naked to the bed. He nipped and sucked his way down Harry’s
chest and stomach before settling between Harry’s thighs. Heart pounding,
pleased with how the night had gone, Draco set to rewarding Harry’s hard work. 
Harry arched, clutching the sheets in his hands as he moaned. Bursts of hot
heat exploded under his skin with every lick of Draco’s tongue. He writhed
under Draco until the world shook apart and he collapsed shivering with
pleasure.
In the dark, as the boys lay tangled together sleeping, the silver dragon inked
into Harry’s skin lay his head down on his taloned paws and seemed to smile.
Chapter end.
 
***** August 1987 *****
A/N:A very special message of love and appreciation for Babyvfan, who has
inspired and supported me wholeheartedly through this journey so far. Thank
you!
August 1987
The day after the ball Harry packed their Muggle clothes into two backpacks and
they said their goodbyes to the Malfoys. It was Andromeda’s turn to host them
for a month. Draco would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it.
The ball had reinforced that they would need the skills the Malfoys were
teaching them to navigate the old-world society of the Wizarding world, but the
freedom promised at Andromeda’s was very much welcome. 
“I will write every week,” Narcissa promised as she saw them off. The boys were
flooing to the Leaky Cauldron; Andromeda would meet them there.
“Be sure to continue your studies,” Lucius added. 
Draco rolled his eyes, knowing he was mostly concerned about Occlumency. “We
will.”
“Bye, Narcissa. See you soon.” Harry waved and smiled as Draco pulled him into
the green flames. Then they were gone.
Lucius wrapped an arm around Narcissa’s waist. She rested her head on his
shoulder, staring sadly into the now warm gold and red flames. She missed them
already. Time had flown by. It hardly seemed four weeks had passed, but she
doubted the next four weeks would go as quickly. She anticipated a long,
tedious month of waiting ahead of her. 
…
Andie opened the door to their apartment and Draco was almost tackled by a
laughing Dora. He gave a put-upon sigh as the overenthusiastic girl yelled in
his ear, “You’re here! You’re finally here!” Disentangling himself, he actually
smiled when she then glomped Harry and a feeling of - embarrassment happiness -
sparkled along the surface of the bond. 
“Mum! We’re going out, okay?” Dora asked, her hair flushing a dandelion yellow.
She wore ripped jeans, purple hightop sneakers, and a tie-dyed baggie t-shirt,
clearly ready for a day spent at the park.
Andie put her hands on her hips. “Let them put their stuff in their room,
Nymphadora. Where are your manners?” Then, smiling, she ran her hand over her
daughters hair. “Be back by dinner, and stick to one color!”
Dora grinned. “Okay!” she promised and turned excited eyes to Draco.
Not at all averse to going out, Draco hurried Harry down the hall, through the
living room, and into their bedroom. Dropping their backpacks off on the floor,
they were ready to go. Dora shouted another goodbye to her mother, her hair a
pretty pink.
“There’s a baseball game in the park. I didn’t think you’d want to miss it,”
she explained as they ran down the stairs. 
Fifteen minutes later, the three of them were sitting in the grass, the warm
August sun shining down on them. Draco watched the neighborhood baseball game
with interest and explained the rules to Dora. She was pretty impressed to
learn that Harry’s favored position was pitcher. 
“Seems like that’d be a lot of pressure. Like the Seeker in Quidditch,” she
said curiously, looking at him.
Harry smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose, - adoration - in his eyes.
“Not with Draco behind the plate.” 
Draco grinned back and reached over to tug on a lock of Harry’s wild hair.
Smiling at the obvious love between the boys, Dora jumped to her feet. “Come
on. Let’s get hotdogs.” 
She took off and almost immediately fell to her hands and knees, tripping over
her own feet. A couple of teenagers saw her on the ground and started laughing.
Dora turned red with embarrassment. 
A small hand reached out to her and she looked up in surprise to see Draco
standing next to her. Smiling sheepishly, she took his hand and got to her
feet. Draco let go as soon as she was standing, and she sighed as she saw the
grass stains on her knees. 
Harry took her hand with a sweet smile. “What do you like on your hotdog,
Dora?”
Holding his hand, she walked much more carefully this time as they made their
way to the vendor. “Everything, of course!” she answered with a grin.
Green eyes bright behind his glasses, Harry looked up at her and said very
seriously, “Draco hates raw onions.”
She laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
…
The next morning Harry slipped out of bed early and made his way to the
kitchen. The sun had just risen, so the rest of the apartment was quiet. He
carefully got out the frying pan, some bacon, eggs, and other ingredients, and
with practiced skill, he began to make a batter. 
Draco woke to the feeling of - love sadness. Rubbing his eyes, he slid out of
bed, pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt, and padded barefoot to the kitchen. He
leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and hair mussed from
sleep. 
Harry looked up, acknowledging him, but when Draco didn’t speak, he knew he was
allowed to finishing cooking. 
Eyes on his boy, Draco watched as Harry put on the finishing touches and
carried over two plates. Harry was smiling, but there were tears in his eyes as
he showed Draco what he’d made: two fluffy pancakes with bacon for a smiling
mouth and eggs for eyes - Liam’s traditional birthday breakfast. 
Draco’s eyes grew bright and he sank his hand into Harry’s hair, grabbing hold
as he pressed his forehead against Harry’s. “I miss him, too,” he whispered
roughly. “Come on.” 
Letting go, he led the way to the table in the living room. They sat together,
sharing the same chair, and ate breakfast silently. In between bites, Draco
left kisses and little bites along Harry’s shoulder. They were just finishing,
Harry's - happy pleasure- filling them both, when Ted came out of the bedroom.
He was dressed for work in a button down and slacks, his dirty blond hair damp
and combed back from his face. 
“Good morning, boys,” he called softly so as not to wake Andromeda. He gave the
kids a smile, choosing not to remark on the fact that Harry was sitting between
Draco’s legs on a single chair and that the smaller boy’s shirt had been pulled
nearly off one shoulder.
“There’s pancakes, bacon, and eggs warming in the oven,” Draco informed him as
he rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder.
“Why, thank you. That was very nice of you boys. I hope you were careful?”
“Course,” Draco answered and gave a soft nudge. Harry slipped off the chair and
began to collect their dishes. “Have a seat. Harry will make you a plate.”
“Would you like coffee?” Harry asked, balancing the plates and silverware from
their breakfast in his arms.
After a pause, Ted answered, “Just milk would be good, Harry. Thanks.” He sat
at the table with Draco, dark brown eyes bright with curiosity.
Draco watched him lazily, his chin propped up by one hand. “So, you make
watches?”
Ted nodded, bemused. He felt like he was being interviewed. “Watches and clocks
of all sizes. I’m also a magical artist. I’d love to paint you and Harry one
day.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”
Harry returned with the hot plate and a glass of milk. He set them in front of
Ted and moved to stand next to Draco. Draco wrapped his arm around Harry’s
waist, hand sneaking under the boy’s t-shirt, his thumb stroking Harry’s warm
skin as he waited for Ted’s answer.
“This looks wonderful,” Ted praised, very surprised at the quality. It was
cooked near to perfection. He gave a big smile and cut his first bite of
pancake. As soon as it hit his tongue, he gave a moan of pleasure. “It’s
delicious!”
Red in the face, Harry ducked his head, pressing his body against Draco’s -
happy relief.
Taking a sip of milk, Ted cut his next bite and answered Draco’s earlier
question. “Your bond is beautiful. I’d love to put that on a canvas.”
“Thanks, but I’d have to think about it.” Draco stood. “Come on, Harry. Let’s
finish getting dressed.”
Ted watched them go and gave a shrug before returning to his delicious meal.
…
Later, Andromeda took the boys and Dora to the public library. She expected
them to read one book and write a report at the end of each week. She also
bought them math and science workbooks. She expected one page of each to be
completed after breakfast before they were allowed to go outside and play, but
that still left a lot of time. Dora and the boys saw movies, ate at cafes, went
shopping, and played in the park. Better yet, Remus came over nearly every
night for dinner and told stories about his travels or his time at Hogwarts.
…
Andromeda flicked her wand and the serving plates floated out of the kitchen
and hovered at their elbows, slowly rotating so that they could serve
themselves from each. She smiled as Remus helped himself to the potatoes. 
Dora, who sat at Remus’s side, eagerly asked him to tell them a story.
“What would you like the story to be about?” he asked in his gentle way.
“Some place mysterious,” Dora gushed, her currently blonde hair brightening
with a golden shimmer. Her eyes were a beautiful violet. 
“In a foreign country,” Draco added. He liked those stories best.
“Good choice,” Ted agreed happily as he dished up some oven-roasted Brussel
sprouts.
Remus smiled gamely. “There is a valley in Italy called the Po Valley. It is a
land rich in verdant fields, soft hills, and the crystal clear waters
that irrigate it. In this valley is the city of Lodi, which is crossed by an
imposing river, the Adda. The Adda divides the city like a big silvery ribbon
and, in a delicate way, traces a line in the citizens' disposition.”
“What’s that mean?” Dora asked, wide-eyed.
“That the people on one side act a certain way and the people on the other act
a different way,” Andromeda answered, pointing her fork at her daughter.
“Disposition is the tendency of a person’s mood. You, my dearest, have a
playful disposition.”
Remus nodded. “Exactly right. People born in the area near the river feel
proud, and this makes them feel different from those who live in the
center, situated on the top of Eghezzone Hill. You see, the people of the river
who I stayed with tell stories of the birth of the river. The water begins in
the Rhaetian Alps as a tiny gush that makes its way through debris flows and
later down grassy slopes to become, at first, a spring, and then, nourished by
pools, a torrent, and at last, it becomes the beautiful Adda River. Great poets
have argued over this river. Alessandro Manzoni believed it to be a wonderful
woman and Giosuè Carducci referred to it as a bold young man.”
“How can a river be a girl or a boy?” Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.
It was Andromeda who answered. “Places have an energy, much as people do. A
woman feels very differently to a man, and sometimes places can have that same
energy.”
“What’s so special about the river?” Dora wanted to know.
In a low voice, as if revealing a deep secret, Remus said. “A water dragon
swims there from a lake further down the valley.” 
Gasps went around the table, except for Draco and Harry who didn’t understand
the significance. 
“On rare nights,” he continued. “You can see it’s big head breaking the water
and taking a big breath of air. It’s dark green like the river, with long
feelers like a catfish and glowing green eyes. The people of the river help
guard the dragon from the rest of the world. It is one of the last in Europe. I
saw it almost six years ago while I was passing through. The moon was full when
it rose from the water, sleek in the moonlight, and seemed to almost dance on
the surface. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.”
Dora stared enraptured up at Remus. “Wow.”
“How inspiring,” Ted said excitedly and looked down the table at his wife. “A
water dragon, Andie, and a full moon! I bet it’d make a beautiful painting.”
Draco noticed Harry looking at him and tilted his head curiously. 
- love pride - “My dragon’s the best,” Harry said softly, his hand pressed to
his side where his tattoo was curled up asleep.
Dora overheard, however, and grinned. “Draco is cool, but I want to see a real
dragon! Can we go to a preserve, mum?”
Draco felt his heart expand with love for his boy, and he took Harry’s hand
under the table, squeezing it. This was probably the first time Harry had ever
felt pride, even a little, and it made Draco fiercely happy. * I love you, *he
said honestly, his words filling Harry’s mind.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Ted chimed in enthusiastically. 
Harry ducked his head, his face red, as Draco looked at him with a gentle
expression.
“Maybe when the boys are older,” Andromeda corrected. “Even at the preserves
they are wild and dangerous creatures.” 
Watching the boys while the family continued to talk, Remus smiled. He had to
agree with Harry. This was a much more miraculous and beautiful view than the
water dragon. He was so thankful that the boys were together and that he was
allowed to be a part of their lives. Every day with them was a gift.
…
Before they knew it, a week had passed since they had arrived at the Tonks’s,
and they were in the middle of a science worksheet about photosynthesis when
there was a knock on the door. Andromeda opened the door with a polite smile to
see a tall, sallow-skinned, hooked-nosed professor from Hogwarts. 
Severus inclined his head. “Good morning. I’m here for my weekly lesson with
Draco.”
“Yes. Narcissa wrote me about them.” Andromeda didn’t move out of the doorway
and didn’t invite him in. “However, I do not understand why they must be
conducted without supervision.”
Severus scowled through his long greasy bangs. “I assure you, ma’am, my time is
precious. If my services are not needed, say so at once.”
Andromeda frowned at him, but before she could say anything else, a small hand
pulled the door wider open and Draco stood at her side. 
He stared up at her with luminous grey eyes. “It’s okay, Andie.”
Andromeda gave him a stern look, not at all pleased. “I will know why they must
be done in secret. I do not approve of him in your bedroom alone with you. It
is very inappropriate.”
“I assure you that I have knowledge that no one else in the world possesses,
and I’d like to keep it that way,” Severus told her dryly. “Feel free to vacate
the premises and we will not have to use the bedroom.”
Andromeda huffed and crossed her arms, unintentionally making her breasts
heave. “Very well,” she gave in reluctantly.
Draco led the man down the hallway, past the kitchen, and into the living room.
He was at their bedroom door when he realized Snape had stopped following. He
turned around to see the man staring intently at Harry. 
Harry hadn’t noticed. He was on his stomach, his legs kicking slowly above him.
His messy hair hid his face as he bent over his work, but Draco knew the tip of
his pink tongue would be visible between his lips. Dora, on the other hand, had
very much noticed Snape’s presence. She had gone tense and wary, watching the
man closely. 
It put Draco on edge and his voice was sharp when he called, “This way.” 
Severus seemed to come out of his thoughts and followed Draco into the
bedroom. 
Draco shut the door and glared up at him. “What do you want with Harry?”
Severus glared back, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. “I was checking
that he was well.”
Draco was very confused. “Of course’s he’s well. I take care of him.”
Severus said nothing to that. He turned his back to Draco and walked over to
the window. “I am concerned at what I saw during our last meeting.” Turning to
face the boy again, he met Draco’s unflinching stare. “Is it really necessary
to be so violent? I’m certain a less punishing approach would be just as
effective.”
Draco strode forward, closing the gap the man had created between them. “You
don’t know anything about us, Snape,” he said, voice dangerously silky.
“Harry’s not your concern.”
Severus’s expression grew thunderous. Voice nearly at a hiss, he spat, “Not my
concern! If you can’t handle a little scrutiny, then perhaps you know I am
correct and merely cannot admit it!”
Draco stopped a few feet from the man so that he did not have to tilt his head
too far back to stare him down. “I won’t say it again, Snape. Harry’s not your
concern.”
Ignoring Draco’s warning, Severus flung his arm out, pointing behind Draco
toward the door. His eyes were wide, his face red, and his breathing had
increased. “You take things father than Harry strictly needs because of your
own twisted experiences! How can you justify saying you take care of him when
you ignore that fact?”
“You don’t know the first thing about Harry,” Draco growled. “You don’t even
know enough to make a guess about what he feels, what he needs. Why the hell do
you even think it’s your business?”
Before Severus could answer, Draco stared deep into his eyes, felt his power
surge protectively from deep in his belly, and whispered, “Legilimens.”
It wasn’t like going into Harry’s mind. It was rough, like being dragged along
sandpaper and squeezed through a too small hole, but then he was in Snape’s
mental space. He could feel barriers folding and shifting around him in the
dark. Draco, disoriented, had no idea what to do next or how to get the
information he needed, but he felt the moment the darkness chose to part and
something hooked him violently forward into the middle of an explosion of sound
and color. 
“Sev, I missed you!” a high, girlish voice cried. 
On a train, in a compartment, green eyes and red-orange hair. Warmth and being
held in a careful hug.
Sitting in a dark, dank classroom. The redhead with her hair pulled up into a
bun standing next to him. Feeling comfortable and safe, working together easily
to create a perfect potion that everyone else would screw up.
“Thanks for being my partner.”
“I like working with you, Sev. You’re brilliant at potions,” the girl answered
with a bright smile.
Feeling love.
At the top of a tower, the wind blowing hard and the stars sparkling coldly.
The warmth of another person pressed against you, the gentle swell of her
breasts, the wet heat of her mouth. Feeling the heavy weight of her long hair.
Hot and giggling and never wanting it to end.
Enemies tripping him, hurting him. Books falling, deep bruises, work destroyed,
Housemates staring at him, demanding he defend himself, to be cunning.
Desperate to get revenge, to be strong. The girl standing between him and them.
Deepened disgust in his Housemate’s eyes. Failure. Weak.
In an abandoned classroom. “Just leave it alone. I don’t need your help, don’t
you see that?” -begging and angry.
“You’re my best friend. I care about you!” - angry and defiant. “What do you
want me to do? Watch? I can’t, Sev! We’re supposed to be a team!”
Frustrated and in love, afraid and desperate. 
Hanging upside down, ugly torn underpants kept hidden now shown to the school.
A sea of laughing faces. Housemates turning away. Knowing that he had lost the
chance to become more, to become strong. He’s never going to be able to make it
right. Then she is there. Defending him. Calling her a hurtful name - just
trying to get her to go away! Seeing her cry and run away is like dying. 
Wanting to die.
Pulling her into an empty classroom. Begging forgiveness. 
“Loving you is too hard, Sev,” she whispers tearfully and pulls away, her long
hair trailing behind her.
For a long time watching her. Watching her, helpless and worthless. But then
she is suddenly all over HIM. One of the enemy. He knows she hates him. Hates
his cruel ways. Even if they are ended, she would not love HIM! 
He tries to talk to her. Tries to get her alone. But she is angry at him.
Angrier than ever. No more tears. She looks at him with HIS eyes. It doesn’t
make sense! 
He follows them obsessively. Trying to get close. Trying to get answers.
Desperately worried. Terrified that he knows what’s happened. Following and
coming face to face with a MONSTER! Terror! Saved by a huge deer. Running,
running, running.
Dumbledore. Telling him there’s a MONSTER. Telling him about HER. Understanding
and sympathy, but they are still THERE the next day. The monster and his
enemies. And she is still with them. He feels physically sick as he watches HIM
kiss her. Touch her. Watches how she gives herself to him blindly. 
Going to kill him. Months of work in the dark and he has it, the poison.
Getting him alone. Angry and desperate, ready to kill.
“I’m glad we’re alone. I wanted to talk to you, Snape,” he speaks before he
dies. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what Sirius was thinking, but I’ll make sure we
leave you alone from now on.” Hazel eyes behind glasses suddenly so earnest and
not filled with hate.“I think you’re right about her,” he confesses with clear
pain in his voice. “I asked Dumbledore to investigate. He says there’s no
residue, but it’s clear she was altered. There’s nothing they can do now.”
“You bastard!” - screaming in rage.
“I swear to you it wasn’t me, Snape! I know you don’t believe me, but I loved
her. I’ll never stop looking for who did this, but whatever happened, whoever
did it, it can’t be undone.” Tears. Actual tears in Potter’s eyes. “It’s not
fair, and it’s not the way I wanted it, but she’ll always be madly in love with
me now. I’ll make you a vow, Snape. I swear on my life. On my magic. I will
take care of her. I’ll never hurt her. I won’t even do things that I know she
would have hated.”
“She would have hated being with you!” - rage and pain nearly swallowing you
up.
“I know, Snape. I know, but I’ve never been more serious in my life. I’m going
to try and make this right somehow. I give you permission to hurt me if I mess
up, Snape. I can’t trust my friends with this. You love her. You’ll do what’s
right for her. I know that she can’t resist or protest even if I were to abuse
her, so I give you the same power. If you come for me, I won’t resist. I won’t
lift hand or magic against you. You have my permission to punish me if I
deserve it.” Suddenly fierce, he presses you against the wall. “But you can’t
kill me, Snape. You have to make sure I don’t die. I already offered to kill
myself to free her, but Dumbledore told me that if I die, she won’t make it.
Her depression would be so great that she’ll likely kill herself, so you have
to make sure I don’t die. Hurt me but don’t kill me. Swear it!”
Unable to bear the thought of her dying, you take his hand and make the vow…
Draco was flung from the man’s mind. He was dizzy, but he was immediately aware
Snape’s hands were clutching his shoulders. With a hiss, he knocked his hand
away and staggered over to the bed, practically falling against it. Glaring, he
stared through sweaty bangs at the man kneeling by the window. 
Severus sat back on his heels, expression filled with honest pain. “Don’t you
see?” he rasped. “Whatever spell or potion was used on her, it went deep and
was extremely powerful. What if it’s still active in her son? What if he can’t
help being in love with you? He’ll never tell you when he’s uncomfortable. No,
worse than that. He never will be uncomfortable even if he should be. He’s
defenseless against you.”
“He’s mine,” Draco snarled and pushed up so he was standing straight. “You
can’t see what that means. You’re too caught up in your own fucking past. Pay
attention, Snape. I don’t need some vow to keep me in check. I don’t need
someone watching to make sure Harry’s okay. He’s mine. Body, mind, and soul.
His needs, his comfort, are my only priority. I take care of him, Snape. I
protect him.”
“You choked him. You collared him!” Severus spat, desperate for the boy to
understand.
“I protect him from bastards like you,” Draco hissed, taking a step closer with
his fists balled up. “Had that girl been mine, I would never have forced her to
stand between me and the world. But had I been that weak, I would have rewarded
her for protecting me. I would have rewarded her love. I wouldn’t have kicked
her in the heart like a sniveling brat. If I had wronged her the way you did, I
would have stripped myself naked and allowed her to punish me for my absolute
failure to take care of her!”
Severus stared back at him, eyes wide, breathing harsh and ragged, as Draco
continued to stalk closer, those hate-filled silver eyes filled his vision.
“And if that was my girl, who had been spelled to think she loved the one she
hated… I would have killed her! I would never have let her live to be raped day
in, day out! In fact, from what I saw, Potter was a better man than you in
every way! Her enemy took better care of her than you ever did!” Draco lashed
his hand forward and grabbed a fistful of the man’s oily hair, forcing his head
back to look up at him. Snape was too shocked to resist. “Don’t you dare think
you know how to take care of Harry! You don’t know the FIRST THING about taking
care of someone.” Shoving Snape away from him, Draco took a step back and
crossed his arms. “You’re here to teach me a spell to protect my mind. That’s
all. Now shut up and do your goddamn job for once.”
Severus used the wall for support as he climbed to his feet. He said nothing,
his face averted as he crossed the room and slammed the door behind him. 
Draco staggered back, his head pounding, and climbed into bed to lay down.
Almost immediately, the door opened and Harry slipped into the room. 
Harry quietly climbed into the bed with him. Draco lay limp under Harry’s touch
as the boy tried to smooth his wrinkled forehead. Soon Harry began leaving
butterfly kisses over his eyes, nose, lips. Draco sighed and pulled him into a
hug. He rolled so that he was on his side facing his boy and slipped Harry’s
glasses off his face. Harry continued to pet Draco’s hair -lovelovelove- and
soon Draco fell into a fitful sleep.
… 
No one asked Draco what happened with Snape, Andromeda did ask if he expected
the man to return. Draco had said simply, “Oh, he’ll be back.” 
Sure enough, one week later, Severus knocked on the front door. He nodded a
greeting and went immediately to the bedroom, although he did stop to look at
Harry. Seeing the boy at the table, he gave the boy a once over, trying his
best not to stare into Lily’s green eyes as he did, but then he moved past.
Once he had Draco alone, he gave the lesson in an efficient, no nonsense way
and left again.
…
They did their reading reports and workbooks, ran the city with Dora, helped
out around the house, and Snape behaved himself, coming two more times. Things
were going well. It felt like a vacation really. Draco had sunburnt cheeks, his
hair was even paler than normal, and Harry had turned a golden tan. They were
due back at the Malfoys in a few more days, and Draco was actually feeling
ready to go. 
He wanted to set up “play-dates” with some of the other kids and try to secure
a hold on them, and he still had so much to learn in order to be ready when
Voldemort came back for his boy. He also wanted to contact Pandora. It had been
a month now with no word. He still wanted that darkness out of Harry as soon as
possible.
He was thinking about all of this as he sat on the couch watching Doctor Who.
Harry and Dora were in her room. Andromeda had grown upset when she’d seen the
messy state of her daughter’s room, and Harry had offered to help her clean in
while Andromeda cooked dinner.
…
“Wow,” Harry said, seeing the tall stack of books shoved into Dora’s closet. 
She wore a t-shirt and jeans, her pink hair pulled up into a ponytail, her eyes
matching Harry’s emerald green. “All of them are from Hogwarts,” she said,
hands on her hips. “Can you believe it?”
“You must know a lot,” he said, impressed.
She laughed. “Believe it or not, I’m top of my class in Hufflepuff. Mum would
kill me if I let my studies slip.” 
She pushed and shoved so that the piles were more even and then stood to push
her clothes toward one side, to give her room to hang more up. She noticed
Harry had stopped working and looked to see him staring longingly at something.
Glancing back to her closet, she smiled and pulled out the ballgown she wore to
his party.
“Pretty, isn’t it? Mum and I had so much fun when we went shopping.” She held
it up to her body and swished it side to side. “Tried on about thirteen before
we settled on this one. She says she hates her sister, but she cared an awful
lot that we look good for her.”
“It’s beautiful,” Harry breathed, voice soft.
Dora was used to his hesitancy by now and dumped the dress into his arms.
“Here, you can touch it.”
She giggled at his horrified look, but when nothing bad happened, he relaxed
enough to give her a smile. Almost reverently he ran his hand over the lavender
silk and chiffon. Cheeks bright red, he swished side to side like she had done.
…
Draco was pulled from his thoughts as golden sparks danced and shimmered
through his mind. Harry had never felt so… He couldn’t put his finger on it. It
was like happy, but there was something more. Maybe it was self-worth?
…
Harry was just so adorable, holding the dress with his cheeks bright red.
Without thinking, she said, “Try it on.”
Looking up at her with wide eyes filled with wonder, he asked, “Can I?”
“Yeah! It’ll be fun!” 
She wasn’t a big kid, but she was taller and thicker than Harry. It was easy to
slip it over his head, clothes and all. The skirt pooled on the floor around
his bare feet, and he had to clutch the bodice to his chest so it didn’t fall
completely down. 
Dora clapped, mirroring his happy smile. “You look beautiful!” And he did.
Wild, messy hair, big green eyes, pink lips and blushing cheeks, he looked
perfectly adorable. “Try a spin.”
Harry turned in a tight circle, careful where he put his feet. Joy bubbling up
from his chest, he giggled and imagined dancing with Draco. Imagined how
beautiful the dress would be next to Draco in his dress robes, and imagined how
great it would be to be the one in Draco’s arms, made beautiful by the gorgeous
dress. 
…
Draco grinned. He slipped from the couch and made his way down the hallway. He
wanted to see what was making Harry feel so good. Whatever it was, Draco was
going to keep it.
…
Harry was in the middle of a turn when the door opened and Andromeda stepped
in. Everyone froze. It seemed as if time itself had stopped. Then Andromeda’s
face became etched in horror and she practically tore the dress out of Harry’s
hands. 
The gown fell to the floor, and Andromeda grabbed Harry’s arm to yank him out
from the middle of it. “What is the meaning of this!” she hissed, furiously.
- terror shame disgust - “I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”
he cried desperately.
And then Draco was there.
He almost seemed to materialize between them as he bit down on Andromeda’s
wrist, making her scream and let go of Harry. Harry staggered back. His back
hit the wall and he slid down to the floor, sobbing. Dora - hair white with
fear and shock - stumbled over to him, almost tripping on the dress. She tried
to hug him, but he flinched away from her, scrubbing at his arms as if he were
dirty. She sat next to him helplessly.
“Don’t you ever touch Harry again,” Draco hissed, beyond furious. He stood with
his feet braced, his arms loose by his sides. The look on his face was
terrifying. 
“Boy’s don’t wear dresses!” Andromeda shrieked, but she was losing strength.
Her face was white and her breath came fast and loud as she clutched her wrist
to her chest protectively.
Suddenly Ted was there. He grabbed his wife in a firm hold around the shoulders
and took her from the room. They could hear her high-pitched voice muffled
through the walls and then a door shut and there was silence. Draco spun around
and stood over Harry. 
Dora watched, mouth hanging open, as Draco grabbed Harry by the collar he wore
and practically dragged him to his feet. Harry shook so badly that he had to
lean against the wall to stay standing. He was sobbing as Draco held him there,
but eventually she was able to make out what he was saying.
“Sorry, Draco. So sorry. I’m a dirty, disgusting freak. Never be beautiful.
Sorry, Draco. I’m sorry…”
Dora could only gape in horror at the words spilling from Harry’s lips, the
self-hatred in his voice.
“Take off your clothes,” Draco commanded. He pressed Harry against the wall
more firmly before letting him go.
The boy obediently began stripping, his shaking hands pulling his shirt over
his head and unbuttoning his jeans. Draco had to steady him as he stepped clear
of the denim. Naked, trembling, Harry seemed to curl in on himself. 
Dora froze as Draco suddenly pinned her with a look. “Get the dress.”
“No! Draco!” Harry cried desperately, sounding almost like he was going to be
sick.
Draco pressed his hand against Harry’s throat and asked a single question. “Are
you mine?”
“Yours,” came the immediate if whispered response.
Dora numbly picked up the dress and handed it to the blond. She watched as
Draco slipped it over Harry’s head and made the boy put it on properly, arms
through the arm holes and everything. Then he was looking at her again.
“Get your wand. You’re gonna shrink it until it fits.”
Harry whimpered. 
Dora stumbled over to her dresser and got her wand. Then she did as she was
told. She concentrated really hard and began to shrink the fabric. She didn’t
do a perfect job. It bunched in a few places, but it mostly looked okay when
she was finished.
Draco ran a hand down her arm and gave her a soft smile. The touch was warm and
steady, and it made her calm down a bit. She looked at Harry, all ruffled and
crying in the ballgown, but he was just as cute as she thought he would be. 
“You look beautiful,” she said without thinking and then covered her mouth,
hoping she hadn’t said the wrong thing.
Apparently it was okay because Draco smiled at her again. Then he took a
handful of Harry’s hair and put his face close to the other boy’s. “You hear
that? You look beautiful,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.
Harry still looked terrified. He was clawing at the wall behind him, his eyes
wide and locked onto Draco.
Draco grabbed a bit of the skirt and swished it. “So beautiful. I love it,” he
said almost sweetly.
Harry stared at him - doubt self-hate fear.
* You’re not just a boy, Harry. You’re mine. I’m special, and that makes you
different from other boys. It means I can kiss you and put my collar around
your throat, and it means you can look beautiful in this dress. And when we
dance, I will look so beautiful holding you, Harry, and spinning you. *
Harry stared mesmerized as Draco painted a picture in his mind. Slowly his
heartbeat slowed - self-doubt painful longing desire. “I can’t be beautiful,”
he whispered brokenly, breath hitching.
“Yes, you can, Harry.” Draco swished the skirt again. “Such a beautiful dress.
It can’t look ugly, can it? And I can’t look ugly, right? I’m beautiful?”
“You’re so beautiful, Draco!” Harry cried and reached for him. Draco allowed
it, letting the boy hug him tight.
“Well, you’re beautiful when you’re next to me, and you look so beautiful in
that beautiful dress,” he insisted, stroking Harry’s hair.
“Mum…” Dora spoke up. She paled when Draco looked over at her, his eyes
piercing. If she fucked this up, he would kill her. “Mum, she grew up in a bad
family. They hurt her. Taught her bad things. She met Dad and he helped her,
but sometimes she talks like she’s with her bad family, not with us. It wasn’t
you, Harry. I’m sorry she said that and hurt you.”
Harry sniffed, practically pressed against Draco’s chest. “Like Draco’s
flashbacks?”
“Yes!” Dora agreed not knowing what he was talking about, but knowing that
agreeing was a good idea.
Draco gave her another smile before pushing Harry away from him enough to look
into his eyes. “Let me see you, please.” It wasn’t a question.
Harry blushed - confusion trust doubt need desire. He was mixed up and still
recovering from his panic attack, but he let Draco step back and look at him.
Feeling sick and dizzy, he nonetheless felt warm as Draco looked him up and
down with heated eyes. 
* I love it, Harry. You were right. We’ll look beautiful dancing together with
you wearing something like that. *
Harry half smiled as tears spilled down his face once more.
Draco took him into his arms, knowing Harry had had enough. Carefully, he began
undoing the buttons along Harry’s back. It took a few minutes, but he managed
to get his boy out of the gown and back into his clothes.
“When’d you get a tattoo?” Dora suddenly asked. She was sitting on the floor
with her back to the wall next to Harry.
Harry blinked at her, numb. 
Crouched by Harry’s side, Draco grinned, showing his teeth, his hand holding
tightly to Harry’s hair. “Oh, not long ago. It means he belongs to a dragon.”
Dora stared into his eyes and knew without a doubt that it was true.
…
Draco took Harry straight to bed. He kissed and soothed this boy until he
finally fell asleep. While he slept, Draco thought about it carefully, but he
decided they would stay the last day. Leaving would show Harry they were
running instead of showing that Andromeda was in the wrong. Besides, Auntie
Andie was going to be sick with the flu for a while. She was lucky he hadn’t
broken her skin because then she’d be dead. 
Harry brought her soup in the morning with Draco hovering at his side. Ted had
taken off work to tend to her, and he smiled in welcome from his position
sitting on the edge of the bed. Andromeda lay propped up on her back, her hair
spread out around her, face damp and red with fever. She smiled when she saw
Harry and spoke sweetly to him, and the last of Harry’s - fear - began to fade.
Draco took his hand and led him from the room. Dora was waiting for them. Her
hair was brown and her eyes were muddy, and she followed them outside without a
word. Draco gave her a smile and gently suggested to Harry that they should
cheer her up since her mom was sick. Harry immediately perked up at a job to
do. 
He went to Dora’s side and took her hand, giving her his best smile. “What do
you want to do today?” he asked sweetly.
She smiled back at him uncertainly. Why was he suddenly so cheerful? “Let’s go
see a movie?” she suggested.
“Can we see a movie, Draco?” Harry asked, hopefully, still holding her hand.
Draco smiled at him, stroking his hair once. “Sure. Let’s see a movie.”
They ended up seeing Dirty Dancing. It was lighthearted and fun with some
exciting bits toward the end, and the music was really catchy. They sang bits
of the movie back and forth all the way back to their favorite cafe. Dora’s
hair was, of course, dark blonde and curly and her eyes were a warm brown, just
like Baby. Harry felt - happy - that they had succeeded in cheering her up, and
they spent a nice afternoon at the park.
Andromeda was feeling a little better by that night. She sat on the couch with
a mug of soup while the rest of them ate the dinner Ted had made. Conversation
was quiet, but for the most part everyone was relaxed. It wasn’t until Harry
and Dora went to the kitchen to do dishes, that Andromeda spoke.
“Draco. Come here please.”
Draco took the seat next to her, expression impassive, while Ted moved to sit
on the arm of the couch. He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders in an
obvious show of support.
Hair pulled back in a loose, messy bun, Andromeda stared at him with a pale
face and fever bright eyes. “I’m sorry, Draco. I grew up in a Dark, pureblood
House. They did not look kindly on things like that. I remember one summer. My
favorite cousins were visiting. We were playing in the attic - my cousins, my
sisters, and me. Somehow we ended up dressing my youngest cousin Regulus in one
of Bella’s dresses. We were just playing…” Andromeda closed her eyes. “My Uncle
caught us. Reggie was nine, I think. What they did to him, I’ll never know, but
he wasn’t the same after. Quiet. Obedient. He never played with us again.
Seeing boys dress up like girls still leaves me sick and scared today.” Opening
her eyes, she stared at him in entreaty. “I hope you know how much I’ve come to
love you and Harry. I’m sorry I scared him. I know he was just playing.”
Draco stared into her eyes unblinking. “Harry’s mine. If he needs punishment,
you talk to me. That’s not your place. And let me make something clear. Harry
wasn’t playing. He was happy, and if wearing a ballgown makes him happy, he’ll
do so again. I’m not playing, either, Andromeda. Harry’s mine in every way.” 
Eyes wide, she covered her mouth with shaking hands. 
Draco gave her an innocent smile. “Better get used to it, ‘cause if you can’t,
we’re never coming back.” Getting up, he went to the kitchen to find Harry.
Chapter end.
A/N:I’m very interested to know what you all thought about the history I
crafted for Severus, James, and Lily. I’m also interested in what you think
about Harry wanting to wear ballgowns when he dances with Draco.
***** Paris *****
 
A/N:Happy Valentine’s Day <3
Paris
Andromeda said her goodbyes at the house, leaving Ted and Dora to take the boys
to the Leaky Cauldron without her. Dora had her school trunk with her. It was
September first, so after escorting the boys, Ted would take his daughter on to
King’s Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express.  
“Write me,” Draco whispered into her ear when Dora hugged him goodbye. 
She gave a nod and flung her arms around a blushing Harry. “Bye, Harry! See you
at Yule, maybe.”
Harry smiled his sweet smile. “Bye, Dora. Have fun.” 
Draco took his boy by the hand and stepped into the green fire. He watched Dora
wave excitedly before being spun and tumbled, and he nearly fell out of the
Malfoy floo. 
“Draco.” Warm hands and a warm voice greeted him as Narcissa gently caught him
by the shoulders to steady him. “Harry.” Her smile was genuine as she took in
the messy-haired boy beside him.
Harry smiled back, eyes bright behind his glasses. “Good morning, Narcissa.”
Lucius waved his hand and the soot and ash on their clothes and in their hair
evaporated. “How was your trip?”
“Good,” Draco answered mildly.
“You look well,” Lucius acknowledged, taking in his son’s sun-kissed skin. Was
Draco taller? Heavier? He thought so, and that made some of the worry lift from
his heart.
“Why don’t you get settled in and in half-an-hour we can meet in the garden for
some snacks and drinks,” Narcissa suggested. “You can tell us all about your
time in London.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry agreed. 
Draco took his hand and led him to their room. He loved having access to London
and not having every minute of the day scheduled, but he had missed the greater
privacy Malfoy Manor afforded them. Their rooms at the manor were a sanctuary,
luxurious and spacious. It was like having their own little apartment.
Harry changed into his day clothes - shorts, button-down white shirt, white
socks, and shiny black shoes. Draco, of course, stayed in his comfortable
jeans, sneakers, and t-shirt, so he simply watched, enjoying the way Harry
smiled as he got dressed. It never ceased to amuse him how much Harry loved
nice clothes. 
“Turn,” he asked, twirling his finger.
Harry, grinning and red-cheeked, did a slow spin so Draco could see all of his
outfit.
“Very nice.” Draco jumped off the bed and ruffled his hair. “Come on.”
- happy - Harry followed.
It was a nice day, blue skies and fluffy clouds. Narcissa sat on the quilt with
them while Lucius chose to sit on a bench next to the blanket. They had some
strawberries, raspberries, apples, pears, and the last of the blueberries,
their season coming to an end. Milk and orange juice sat in glass pitchers,
spelled to keep cold. Narcissa and Lucius listened with interest as Draco
talked about baseball and the movies they’d seen. Harry added a few details
here and there. When the boys ran out of stories, Narcissa told them about a
few luncheons she’d attended and some tentative playdates she’d arranged while
Lucius talked a bit about business. It was a nice morning. 
They were full from eating so much fruit, so they decided to skip lunch and get
back into their lessons. Lucius went his own way, doing whatever it was he did
during the day, and Narcissa took them to the sunroom. They worked on their
reading, maths, and elocution for about four hours before Narcissa dismissed
them to bathe before dinner. 
Unlike other days, however, Draco followed her, leaving Harry behind to clean
up. He caught Narcissa’s hand in the hallway and asked almost softly, “Can I
talk to you?”
“Of course,” she answered immediately. “Where would you like to talk?”
Draco said nothing, instead keeping hold of her hand and leading her to the
sitting room. 
Narcissa felt absurdly pleased at the extended contact with her son and also
simultaneously nervous about what he wished to discuss. He led her to a couch
and hopped up, tugging on her hand to get her to sit next to him. 
Large, beautiful grey eyes, Draco looked up at her curiously. “Has Andromeda
written you?”
Narcissa, still focused on his small hand in her own, shook her head. “Should
she have?”
Draco shrugged and finally let go of her hand. “We had a little
misunderstanding toward the end of our visit.”
“Are you okay?” Narcissa asked, frowning. “What happened?”
Draco waved off her concern. “We’re fine, but it could have been bad for Harry.
And Andromeda, actually.” He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not really what I
want to talk about, though.”
She wanted to know what had happened, but she could always write Andromeda
later. “Very well.” She met her son’s eyes, showing she was taking him
seriously. “What do you wish to discuss?”
“I wanted to ask you about ballgowns.”
Confused, Narcissa tilted her head curiously. “Gowns?”
Draco nodded with a rueful smile. “I knew he liked nice clothes, that they make
him feel less filthy, but the gown made him feel beautiful. And I really want
him to feel that way again.”
Narcissa stared in wonder at the sweet expression on her son’s usually hard
face. It slowly dawned on her what he was saying, and her heart began to beat
faster. A lifetime of training kept her rising panic from her face, and her
attention sharpened on the hand he still held, hoping it wasn’t sweating.
Draco looked into her eyes in entreaty. “I want you to take us shopping. Buy us
some nice outfits for when we visit the Pureblood families. Make a day of it.
He’ll be uncomfortable with you spending money, so if you could arrange it so
that the price tags are removed and he doesn’t see you buying them? And I’d
love for you to get his measurements and buy the most beautiful gown you can
find. Something simple but that flows when you spin during a dance. Then when
the time is right, I’m going sneak out of bed and to leave it out for him. I’ll
have Dobby wake him once I’m already dressed and waiting in the ballroom, and
we’ll have a private ball where no one will judge us.” Eyes bright with
excitement, he asked her, “Will you help me?”
Narcissa squeezed her son’s hand. “That sounds beautiful. Of course I’ll help
you.”
Of course, she was shocked at the request, but Draco never acted this open,
this excited. She had never seen him so young before. She’d do anything to
preserve that happy look in his eyes, so she carefully kept her unease hidden.
Even knowing about the boys being Dominos et Delicae, she hadn’t pictured
either of them cross-dressing. It just wasn’t done, and she’d probably feel
uncomfortable when she saw Harry in a dress. However, her son was asking her
for this, and she wasn’t about to tell him no. What would it hurt? It’s not
like Harry would be dressing like a girl where anyone else could see. 
At least she now had a better idea about what had happened at her sisters, and
as much as she hated Andromeda, she felt sympathy. Narcissa hadn’t warned her
about the extent of the boys’ bond, so Andromeda had had no warning at all when
she’d likely caught Harry putting on Nymphadora’s clothes. Internally, Narcissa
winced, remembering vividly the horrible incident that one summer with Reggie. 
Poor Reggie. He hadn’t even wanted to put on Bella’s dress. They had talked him
into it the way children do, for fun, for a joke. Reggie, so much like Sirius -
vivacious, playful, bright - had become so withdrawn and obedient after
whatever his father had done to him. It still sent shivers down her spine. Her
uncle’s hate-filled words echoed in her head to this day, “Boys. Don’t. Wear.
Dresses!”
Looking at her young son, so excited and full of love, it about broke her heart
knowing how the world would react to him being in love with a boy, a boy who
liked to wear dresses apparently. Draco would be put through so much pain as he
grew older because of this love, and she couldn’t bear to refuse him what joy
he could have now.
“I know just where to go,” she told him, sharing his smile and trying to hide
the tears in her eyes. “A beautiful little boutique in Paris. It’s such a
lovely city. I’ll have Lucius get started on your passports right away, and
we’ll spend the weekend there.”
Draco gave her a crooked smile and said, “Thanks!” Hopping off the couch, he
ran out of the room.
Narcissa watched him go and quickly wiped at her eyes. She could not be weak.
Not when her son still needed her. Now, how was she going to tell Lucius?
Perhaps she could put it off a little while longer.
…
Draco was very careful and Harry suspected nothing as Wednesday and Thursday
passed. Friday morning Lucius announced that their passports had arrived.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she told the boys, as if it were her own idea.
“We’re going to take a family holiday to Paris this weekend.” 
Draco shared a secret smile with her; she was a good ally to have. 
“We will leave directly after your session with Severus,” Lucius added, sipping
his breakfast tea.
Draco looked over at his boy, capturing and squeezing his hand. Harry was -
calm - but when Draco grinned, unable to contain his excitement, it shifted to
-curious happy. This was going to be fun!
…
Severus arrived at Malfoy Manor and brushed off his robe sleeves. The squeaky
welcome from the House Elf was ignored, but he followed it up to Lucius’s
office. He expected Lucius to interrogate him regarding Draco’s progress, but
when he opened the office door, only the boy was inside. 
Draco was standing next to one of the two chairs that were facing each other in
front of Lucius’s desk. Those grey eyes immediately met and held his own.
Crossing the distance without speaking, Severus sat in the second chair, ready
to begin, but the boy did not join him. Instead, he remained standing, watching
him intently.
“I’ve been thinking about what I saw in your mind,” Draco said softly. “There
was no residue, so they couldn’t tell what happened or fix it, but it was clear
she was altered,” he repeated. “Would you be able to tell if it did get passed
on to Harry?”
“I am here for you lesson,” Severus told him coldly. “Please have a seat and we
can begin.”
Draco sighed and took the seat, but he leaned forward, expression sharp. “I
said some hard things after seeing your memories, but you have to understand
you were threatening to separate me and Harry. I’ll do whatever it takes to
make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Eyes narrowed dangerously, Severus asked, “And if I could detect the spell and
reverse it?”
“I’d let you,” Draco answered immediately. “Nothing would change. I love Harry,
Snape. I love his obedience because its s a part of who he is. I love every
part of him, and if he were to change and no longer need my dominance, then I
would change to match. We’re bonded soul to soul, magic to magic, and mind to
mind.” Sitting up, Draco asked again, “Do you really think he’s under a spell?”
Severus said nothing.
Expression calculating, Draco offered an explanation. “An Unspeakable who’s an
expert in magical cores examined us. She noticed something black attached to
Harry’s core. It didn’t seem to be effecting Harry, but it had a tether that
couldn’t be broken. Do you think that could be the spell Lily was under?”
Severus grew interested in spite of himself. “Describe this.”
“It’s hard to explain,” Draco said wryly. Hooking his bangs behind his ears, he
settled more firmly into the chair. “Look at my memory.”
Severus winced. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but if it was for
Lily… Draco may have been right, cruel as he was, about his younger self.
Severus had been weak and confused. He had struggled with the abuse at home and
all the abuse at school, but he was not that child anymore. 
Steeling himself, he cast the spell and pushed through Draco’s mind to grasp
hold of the memory. Minutes later, he returned to reality, gasping and
clutching at the arms of his chair to keep from being sick. It wasn’t that the
memory was that terrible, it was just Draco’s memories were so vivid that they
overwhelmed. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment. Draco gave
him space to recover and waited patiently. 
“It is hard to be sure. Harry is obedient, but is it because of this black form
or his nature shaped by abuse?” Opening his eyes, he looked over at Draco
curiously. “Has he ever been defiant to anyone?”
Draco grinned. “He’s told Lucius off.”
Severus lifted an eyebrow. “What occasioned the defiance?”
“He was protecting me. I was too out of it to do it myself,” the boy
reluctantly admitted. “I was caught in a flashback.”
“Has he ever wanted something just for himself, with no connection to you?”
Severus demanded.
Draco looked at him for a moment, expression guarded. “Yes. Just recently. He
and Dora were together and I wasn’t with them. He wanted something just for
himself.”
Severus leaned forward, desperate to know that Lily’s son had some piece of
self not defined by others. “What was it?”
Draco shook his head. 
Disappointed, Severus leaned back. “I have no way of knowing if he is or isn’t
altered by the spell without examining his mind myself.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll think about it.”
Severus glared. “You said…”
“I know what I said.” Draco leaned back tiredly, his hair sliding out from
behind his ears and curtaining his face. “But Harry would be very upset by you
looking at his memories. He finds himself disgusting. I’m working on it, but
you would trigger him. He’s already tried to kill himself a few times.”
Severus’s eyes widened in shock. “He’s tried to kill himself?”
Draco nodded, expression older than his years. “Yes. A few times.”
Severus was taken aback. To think of a child so young having attempted suicide
multiple times… And there was the fact that the spell or potion Lily was under
would never have allowed her to think of killing herself as long as her target
lived. She had to be with him always, no matter what. That Harry would try to
kill himself, even while Draco was alive, and even with their admittedly strong
bond… Severus wasn’t sure he could even imagine what Harry’s mind must be like.
It was a horrifying thought.
“Anyway, I’ve gotten the spell to the size of an orange.” Draco lifted his
hands, creating a triangle by touching his thumbs and index fingers. Closing
his eyes, he breathed out, casting, “Separanta Aeris.”
Severus could just make out the line where some air had been contained and
separated from the rest of the air in the room. Draco was correct in his
assessment. It was about the size of an orange. The goal was to achieve a
sphere the size of a pea and then cast it on the memory instead of the air:
“Separanta Memoria”.Casting at a memory made the spell metaphorical. It
wouldn’t physically separate his brain. Draco merely needed the visual of
actually separating air for practice. The fact that Draco had managed so much
already - wandless and in only three sessions - was impressive.
They worked on the spell for another hour before Severus called a halt. The boy
was pale, shaky, and his white blond hair stuck to his sweat-damp face. “I will
return next week.”
“Why did you keep coming?” Draco asked hoarsely. “I knew you would, but I don’t
understand why.”
“You would be mistaken to think you could understand me,” Severus answered
darkly. “You are only seven years old. A child. I am twenty-seven and have seen
and done things you can’t imagine.” Standing, he rolled his shoulders and
looked down at the exhausted boy. “Consider allowing me access to Harry’s
memories. I will be able to tell for certain if he is under a spell.” He didn’t
wait for a response, instead turning and leaving without a backward glance.
…
Paris was incredible. 
They arrived by portkey at the French Ministry of Magic, the International
Travel department, and took a magical carriage to their hotel. Their rooms
belonged in a palace. Lucius had booked the presidential suit, and it was three
times larger than Andromeda’s apartment! Draco and Harry took one room, Lucius
and Narcissa another, and there was still one empty bedroom, a living room, a
dinning nook, an enormous bathroom, and a study. The windows in the living room
were enormous and showed a spectacular view of the Eiffel Tower. 
They washed up, rested, and had a late lunch before heading out into the city.
Everyone spoke French around them, of course. It was bizarre not knowing what
people were saying, but when asked to speak English, most people were able to,
if with heavy accents. It made Draco reconsider learning French.
Their first stop was the Louvre. Of course, they went to the hidden wing for
magical art first, but the Muggle art was just as spectacular. Draco was pretty
ambivalent about art in general as it wasn’t very practical, but Harry loved
beautiful things and was entranced. Harry could have spent days at the Louvre
and been in heaven, and some of his enthusiasm rubbed off on Draco. Anything
that made Harry that happy had worth in Draco’s eyes. They didn’t leave until
the museum closed for the day, and they returned to their hotel for dinner.
“Tomorrow after breakfast we will go shopping. Paris has the best tailors, and
we need some nice outfits for our reservations at an elegant restaurant
tomorrow evening,” Narcissa explained. “And we must get you suitable outfits
for when you have playdates with your peers.” 
Lucius smiled indulgently at his wife. “I will attend a business brunch and
leave the shopping to you. Shall we meet here at four to get ready for dinner?”
She returned his smile innocently. “That would be perfect, Lucius.”
…
The clothier was on a side street a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower. It had an
unassuming store front, but the inside was the complete opposite of unassuming.
It was quiet, the sounds of the city completely muffled. The walls were lined
in gorgeous fabrics in all shades and colors. Display outfits of new and
interesting fashions were arranged strategically throughout the room. The back
had a stage-like platform and curtained-off rooms for changing, and in the
center was a round booth-like circle of seats facing outward. 
A man about Narcissa’s age came up to them with his arms outstretched. He wore
black slacks, black shoes, a white button-up, and a purplish vest. He had pale
yellow hair - thin and choppy to his shoulders - and pale grey/blue eyes. He
had a smooth smile, and when he spoke his words were softly accented.
“Welcome, my dears. Welcome to Trancy’s Boy Clothing.” He took Narcissa’s hand
and gently laid a kiss on her knuckles. “What can I do for you, Lady Malfoy?”
“We are here for the boys, of course.” She gestured to each in turn. “May I
introduce to you my son, Draco, and my ward, Harry.”
Trancy bent at the waist, bowing to each. “Welcome, sirs.” Straightening, he
gestured for them to follow and, grinning, he led them to one wall. “What
colors spark your interests? What textures? I have several lovely styles that I
believe will look divine on you.”
Harry followed after Draco, eyes huge - anticipation guilt excitement.
Draco, heart beating fast, took Harry’s hand and pulled him closer. Then he
placed Harry’s hand on a roll of cloth. Harry gasped, but his fingers caressed
the material with - guilty enjoyment. 
Trancy smiled and encouraged them to explore. He handed them bolts of silk,
chiffon, cotton, and other materials. Dark red, olive green, baby blue, violet,
rose pink, eggshell yellow, fire red… and so many, many more colors. They were
held up to their faces and draped along their arms to see what enhanced and
complemented their skin tones. 
By the second hour, the colors and patterns deemed suitable for them were
decided on. Trancy was extremely excited as Harry revealed more and more of his
tastes through Draco, who sensed what styles and articles made Harry’s - guilty
desire - increase. Trancy called Harry’s style bold and high fashion and vogue,
whatever that meant. However, when Harry stepped out of the dressing room,
Draco had an idea what the man was talking about. 
Harry’s head was ducked shyly, cheeks a flaming red as he stepped to the edge
of the stage in front of Draco and Narcissa. - fear excitement doubt happy - 
* Oh my god, *Draco muttered unknowingly across the bond. “You look incredible,
Harry.”
Harry’s whole face turned red at this point, but his head came up. A nervous
smile brushed his lips. “Really?”
“I love it,” Draco breathed, and as Trancy exclaimed in awe and spoke with
Narcissa about unimportant details, he took his boy in.
Harry wore black tailored shorts with three tiny gold buttons running at an
angle on the pockets. They were short, covering about three or four inches of
Harry’s thin thighs. The shirt was made of white silk. The sleeves were a
little loose and created a handkerchief type look falling just past his wrists.
Over that he wore a green vest with black vertical lines. The vest was open at
the chest and had four black buttons holding it closed over his stomach, subtly
emphasizing Harry’s small waist. 
At his neck, a big black ribbon was tied in a large droopy bow. A maroon
overcoat with tailored sleeves and a wide collar went over it all. The coat’s
sleeves were shorter than the undershirt, allowing the white silk to come out
several inches. The coat fell just short of Harry’s knees and was pleated in
the back, giving it flare.
It was cute as hell, but that wasn’t even the best part. Harry wore some type
of black silk stockings that went up to mid-thigh, highlighting about two
inches of bare skin between the top of the stocking and the bottom of the
shorts. Harry had also put on brown, knee-high boots. They laced up the front
with maroon ribbon that perfectly matched his overcoat and had about two inches
on the heel, putting Harry at Draco’s height, allowing him to look straight
into Draco’s eyes. Draco couldn’t take it. He jumped up onto the stage. 
Harry’s eyes widened. His red lips parted as his pupils dilated - nervous
pleasure love. 
Draco brushed his thumb against Harry’s lower lip, but his eyes never lift the
thin stripe of bare skin on Harry’s thigh. He gently caressed the boy’s thighs,
loving the feeling of Harry’s soft skin under his fingertips and the transition
to the black silk.
“We’re keeping this one,” Draco said softly, eyes burning into Harry’s.
Harry nodded, helpless under that heated gaze - submission happy.“Yes, Draco.”
Grinning, eyes fierce, Draco said, “Good.” He gave the boy’s thigh one last
caress with this thumb. “Now let’s see the next one.”
Harry practically scrambled back into the changing room. 
Draco laughed, heart beating hard and free, and returned to his seat with
Narcissa. He noticed her cheeks were flushed and she looked uncomfortable. A
glance to the side showed Trancy was staring at him speculatively. Draco lifted
his chin and raised an eyebrow, silently daring the man to say something.
Instead, Trancy wisely decided to look for more clothes for Harry to try on.
In the end, Harry tried on five more outfits. Of those, Draco chose the first
maroon coat, a blue day coat that had a large black bow on the back at the
waist and fell past the knee, a tweed jacket that was waist long and had a
popped up collar, and a dark red blazer that fell to Harry’s hips. He also
chose (with Harry’s unknowing guidance) several vests - the first green one
with stripes, a paler green with no pattern, a maroon with tiny black four-
petaled flowers, and the last a plain deep blue. With them, he also chose four
shorts. They all fell mid-thigh or slightly shorter. He also picked a few silk
button-up undershirts and three pairs of shoes: the knee-high boots, a two-inch
high black ankle boot, and more conservative black loafers. Finally, he chose a
few black stockings and neckties. A few of the ties were thin and some thick,
but they all tied in a bow. 
Draco chose considerably less for himself. He picked two shorts that fell just
above his knee - one in black, the other in dark grey - several belts with a
few different silver buckles, a white, short-sleeved shirt, and a few neckties
in a couple colors that knotted at the throat with a tail. Harry also chose for
him three sweater vests in blue, green, and red. Harry also picked one day
coat. It was a dark blue that was nearly black, and it fell just short of
Draco’s hips, had two rows of big gold buttons down the front. Its sleeves fell
just past his elbows, the cuffs wide and bright red. Draco didn’t get any
shoes. He stubbornly insisted on keeping his sneakers. 
Of course, they didn’t see Narcissa pay, just as Draco had asked. They simply
took their boxes, thanked Trancy for his time and attention, and left the
store. While Harry was distracted balancing the three boxes he’d been asked to
carry, Draco asked Narcissa in a whisper how much they’d spent, just for
reference.
“Just short of nine hundred galleons,” she whispered back.
Draco thought about that, doing the math slowly in his head. By his estimate
one galleon equaled seven dollars. It took him the entire walk back to the
hotel before he was sure of his multiplication, but - by his estimate - they
had spent over six thousand American dollars. 
“Go relax, but be ready for dinner in an hour and a half. Wear one of your new
outfits to show Lucius,” Narcissa told them happily.
Dazed, Draco helped Harry take the boxes to their room.
“What should I wear tonight?” Harry asked quietly - excited guilt confusion. He
was already going through the boxes, laying out his new clothes. He felt bad
because he didn’t deserve them, but he really liked them, and Draco really
liked them, and he just didn’t know what to feel at this point.
“The first one,” Draco said immediately. It had certainly made an impression on
him. 
Harry flushed and laid all the pieces of the outfit out. Hands stilling as he
gazed down at the beautiful clothes, he looked up at Draco. His confusion fell
way. He knew exactly what to feel - gratitude awe LOVE.
Draco froze as pure love - powerful and unconditional - nearly drowned him
through the bond. 
“Thank you, Draco,” Harry whispered, eyes nearly fever bright behind his
glasses. “Thank you for the clothes, and shopping, and doing all this.”
Draco opened his mouth to tell him it wasn’t him, that it was Narcissa, but
Harry shook his head.
“I know it was you,” Harry whispered. He stepped away from the bed and wrapped
Draco into a warm hug. “I know it was you. You always take care of me.”
Draco wrapped his arms around his boy, one hand sinking into Harry’s thick hair
and holding on tight. “I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, throat tight
and tears stinging his eyes.
Harry lay his lips on Draco’s throat. His breath was warm and moist against
Draco’s skin. “I love you… Please… Please let me… Please, Draco… Let me take
care of you…”
Draco nodded his head, and Harry smiled -joy excitement pleasure LOVE- bursting
through the bond like sunrise. 
Harry slowly, carefully, began to undress him. Draco watched unblinking, his
eyes molten silver as he watched his boy move. Once Draco was naked, Harry
quickly stripped out of his clothes. He took Draco’s hand and led him to the
bathroom. He had Draco sit on a towel at the edge of the tub while he got the
water warm and put some lavender oil in it. Soon enough the tub was full and
steam was rising from the surface. Draco slipped in and Harry knelt on the
outside. 
Harry reverently ran the soft rag over Draco’s scarred, pale skin. He adored
Draco - his strength, his unbending will, his fierce love, and he had no idea
what to do with all the love he felt. Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks, but he
kept his hand steady and his breathing even. Heart beating fast, he gently
rinsed Draco’s body and then began to wash his silky hair. 
Draco closed his eyes and let his boy work. He drifted on a wave of hazy
pleasure, every muscle relaxing and all thoughts drifting away. His eyes opened
when Harry’s hands disappeared and didn’t return. Seeing Harry kneeling by the
tub, waiting for instruction, face tear-stained… Draco’s heart seemed to expand
in his too-tight chest. 
He reached out and cupped the boy’s chin. “Get in, Harry.”
Harry obeyed, cheeks red - love NEED.
Draco dropped Harry’s glasses on the floor beside the tub and, never breaking
eye contact, began to wash Harry’s body. * I love you, *Draco said softly into
the boy’s receptive mind.* You were so beautiful today. You’re such a good boy,
taking care of me, *he praised, pulling Harry into his lap, facing him. 
Harry moaned and gave himself up wholly into Draco’s control. 
Draco grabbed his boy firmly by the back of the neck, the black collar pressing
into his palm. He tipped Harry back into the lukewarm water, soaking his hair,
before pulling him up again. As he lathered his hands and sank them into the
black, messy mop, Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s.
Harry moaned again. His lips parted and Draco’s tongue thrust inside, claiming
every inch. Hot and throbbing between his legs, Harry trembled and gasped.
Draco pressed him back and this time he was pressed under the water. 
Draco followed him down, lying on top of him under the water. He kissed and
sucked and bit at Harry’s swollen lips. Draco’s hips began to rock, rubbing up
against Harry’s sensitive member. The water began to slosh gently against the
sides of the tub. Harry was lost in all the sensations. 
Draco broke the surface, gasped in air, and dove under again to continue the
underwater kiss. 
Harry arched, lungs on fire - need submission.Every fear, every doubt, every
dark thing inside him burst apart as Draco held him down. He was Draco’s
completely in that moment. Literally nothing else mattered. Harry/Draco/the
world was perfect for a crystalized moment in time, and Harry felt his whole
body shudder through a shared orgasm.
He must have blacked out. When he opened his eyes, he was coughing and hanging
over the side of the tub. Draco was pressed against his back, hand tight in his
hair, holding his head up. Warm kisses mixed with soft bites trailed over his
shoulder. His whole body tingled with after shocks. He was floating… He was
free…
- peace lovelovelove -
… 
Lucius stepped out of the bedroom, Narcissa still putting the finishing touches
on her hair behind him. She was beautiful in a dark red, floor-length dress,
her pale throat exposed, and graceful hands moving amid her golden hair.
Distracted by that image, he didn’t at first notice the boys, but when he did,
he froze. 
Draco was sitting sideways on the arm of the couch in a sharp, stylish new
outfit - dark blue jacket with three-quarter sleeves and wide red cuffs - grey
sweater with a wide, low neck - white button up and red tie - long black shorts
- black ankle socks and dress shoes. He looked very sharp, but it was Harry who
stopped him in his tracks. The boy stood in front of Draco, looking down at his
son since Draco was sitting, and his outfit… It defied classification.
Narcissa came up behind him. Her hand rested lightly on his arm. He looked over
at her, speechless, but she simply smiled at him. Calling the boys to
attention, she led the way to the restaurant. Lucius kept pace, his expression
blank, but inside his mind was spinning. He kept shooting glances at the black-
haired boy behind them. 
The top half of the boy’s outfit was perfectly acceptable, but the bottom half…
The silk stockings and the knee high boots laced with ribbon and two inch
heels! And most especially the slip of pale skin between the top of the
stockings and the bottom of the shorts… He was shocked Draco would allow the
boy out dressed like that. Especially considering their pasts, but Draco looked
happy and smug.
Narcissa, the perfect host, was able to create a pleasant atmosphere even with
Lucius’s minimal participation. He hardly even noticed the restaurant’s lavish
and elegant decor - the golden chandeliers, fine linen, and crystal statuary.
However, he began to relax by the third course. He’d noticed several admiring
glances aimed their way - the waiter had even asked Narcissa where she had
purchased the boys’ clothes - and he was able to relax. 
The French were known for their bold fashion statements, and the clothes were
remarkably well made. Fortunately, the boy’s shy, humble demeanor prevented it
from being too provocative. In fact, upon further reflection, Lucius could even
appreciate the strategy of it all. Harry’s fame would protect him to some
degree, but his timid nature would eventually make him a target. Dressing
boldly would create a wonderful distraction that would hide his nature a bit
longer. The safer Harry was, the safer their son would be.
With a resigned sigh, he lifted his wine glass and saluted his wife. She
smiled, lips blood red to match her dress, and he tipped his head, impressed
with her cunning.
Chapter end.
***** Returning to Darkness *****
 
Returning to Darkness
Abigail Abbott took her job very seriously. She knew that her blond, blue-eyed
appearance and overly cheerful demeanor often had others underestimating her,
but she wasn’t Head of the Department of Magical Child Services for nothing.
Therefore, when she received an anonymous tip that little Harry Potter had
living relatives unbeknownst to the Ministry, she had decided to investigate.
The note had fortunately supplied the address, so she had immediately traveled
to Little Whinging, Surrey. What she had discovered was that Lily Potter’s
elder sister was very much alive and well instead of deceased as was reported
by the Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore.
“No living blood relatives,” he’d said.
Abigail wondered what he hoped to gain by lying. She couldn’t imagine
Dumbledore having nefarious intentions. Perhaps it was someone under him who
had given him the false information? It would be easy to suspect the Malfoys.
There were always rumors circulating around Lucius, but it really didn’t matter
who had charge of Harry as their son was bonded to him. They would be connected
to the famous child regardless. 
Was it the Tonks? They were unknown in most circles - stayed out of politics
and the more affluent social circles - but maybe Mrs. Tonks wanted to change
that? She was originally a Black and their reputation for madness was infamous.
Then again, from what she could tell, the Dursleys were completely Muggle.
Perhaps Lord Malfoy took exception to the idea of his son spending time in a
Muggle’s care and arranged it so that Draco would stay within the family, so to
speak. 
It definitely warranted further investigation by those more skilled in that
area than she. First and foremost, she needed to reunite Harry with his
relatives. Mrs. Dursley had been a pleasant woman when Abigail had visited and
had been overjoyed to hear that her missing nephew and ward had been
discovered. Abigail still remembered the way the poor woman had paled and
seemed about ready to faint when she’d informed her that she was there
regarding Harry Potter. She must have feared the worst, after all these years
with no word. It was unconscionable! 
… 
They had just returned back from their weekend in Paris. The boys were putting
away their new things while Narcissa waited for them in the sunroom catching up
on her mail. One particular letter stood out. It was from Andromeda.
Dear Narcissa,
I want to begin with a sincere apology for my belated letter. I have been
recovering from an illness and needed the time to consider the events that have
transpired. First, I want to celebrate Draco’s first display of accidental
magic. It is always a joyous occasion to witness the demonstration of a child’s
magic, and I am deeply regretful that such a momentous moment was initiated by
something less than desirable. 
On the Thursday before the children returned to your care, I happened to walk
in on Harry in Dora’s ballgown. I was taken very much by surprise. I reacted
with fear and physically removed him from the dress. Draco saw my action as
threatening. Expectedly, considering his past, he reacted with extreme
prejudice and bit me in an attempt to force me to release Harry. His magic also
reacted and caused some type of magical flu. It is only now that I am fully
recovered. No potion or treatment helped my symptoms whilst I was ill. 
I wish this was all I had to report, but, Narcissa, upon their leaving, I
attempted to reconcile with Draco. I explained our experience that summer with
Reggie and apologized for grabbing Harry. Draco was unimpressed and proceeded
to inform me that Harry was not playing as we once were so innocently that day.
He announced Harry had purposefully put on the dress and had particularly
enjoyed it. He further told me that he and Harry possess romantic feelings for
each other.
I know you are shocked by this information, sister. I was equally shocked. I
hasten to remind you that the boys were sexually assaulted by men, and they may
now believe that is normal in spite of the trauma it has caused. I believe with
the help of a Mind Healer or even Muggle therapy, they can be healed of this
perverse idea. I, of course, pledge to support you and the boys in whatever way
is necessary.
Sincerely,
Andromeda
Narcissa sighed. She wondered how her sister could be so blind to what Draco
and Harry were to each other. The sexual aspect of their relationship was
merely a side effect of the Dominus et delicae bond. Narcissa couldn’t allow
Andromeda to continue in her ignorance. Draco would not tolerate Andromeda’s
attitude. However, changing her sister’s perspective was a daunting and
depressing task. Andromeda was forever headstrong and unmovable when she felt
she was right, thus her abandonment of her family and all she was taught
because she refused to see reason regarding her less than acceptable mate.
“Lady, Mrs. Abbott is here,” Lottie announced, appearing next to her with a
soft pop. “Master be asking for your presence in the sitting room.”
Sighing, Narcissa rose. She would be happy the day the Ministry was no longer
involved with the boys.
… 
Lucius stood next to the small sitting room fireplace watching their guest.
Abigail sat on a couch facing the doorway. Her smile was brighter than ever,
and Lucius had to consciously keep his expression pleasant to hide his
instinctual suspicion.
“It’s a lovely day,” she said banally, blue eyes sparkling.
Smiling politely, he agreed. “It is indeed. Particularly so since you come
bearing good news.”
She dropped him a wink, refusing to divulge the reason for her visit.
Narcissa entered the room. She looked beautiful in a simple blue summer dress
that was almost the same shade as her eyes. Lucius gave her a cool smile and
offered his hand in greeting. She took it briefly before sitting gracefully in
the nearest armchair cater-corner to Abigail’s position.
“Mrs. Abbott, what a pleasant surprise. Is this one of your unscheduled home
visits?” she asked pleasantly. “You are, of course, always welcome.”
“Good afternoon, Lady Malfoy,” Abigail answered brightly. “I am actually here
regarding another matter, but let us wait for the boys to arrive before I
deliver my news.”
Narcissa didn’t have time to probe; the boys had arrived.  
“Draco! Harry! It is good to see you again. You look well,” Abigail greeted
them and stretched her hands out to them in welcome. “Come sit with me.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Abbott,” Harry said softly, with a shy wave.
Holding Harry’s hand, Draco led them over to the couch, purposefully staying
out of the woman’s reach. “What’s happened?” he asked curiously once they were
seated.
Her grin grew almost blinding and her attention shifted to Harry, putting Draco
on edge. “Harry, sweetie, we found your family. They’re alive and well and very
happy to have you back.”
Before Draco could react, Harry said - anxiously - green eyes wide behind his
glasses, “I belong to Draco.”
Draco’s heart thundered in his chest. Harry’s family? The ones who had taught
Harry that his name was Freak? Cold rage stirred in his center. 
“Don’t worry. Draco will be going with you,” Abigail told them happily,
completely ignorant to the storm brewing. Her attention shifted to the stunned
Malfoys. “It is happy news, but that does mean your contract with Mrs. Tonks is
void. You will have to draw up a new one with the Dursleys at their earliest
convince.”
At the D-word, Harry exploded. “NO!” he screamed, jumping from the couch. His
hands were fisted at his sides; his whole body shook. He wasn’t facing anyone
in particular, he just screamed his denial to the world - terror protective
horror- “NOO!” 
Draco leapt off the couch and practically tackled his boy, brining Harry to his
knees and holding onto him tight. * Harry, it’s okay! We’re not going anywhere!
*As soon as Harry was calm, he’d make sure of it.
Abigail sat stunned, eyes wide, her smile finally gone. She stared at the boys
cowering on the floor in horror as Harry continued to howl, his edges gaining a
soft black appearance. Was that black fog? Smoke? What was happening?
Narcissa dropped to her knees beside the children, wrapping them in her arms
and murmuring to them too low for the others to hear. 
Lucius came off the wall and planted himself in front of their enemy. “Mrs.
Abbott, Harry will not be returning to those people. In fact, I would like to
ask you why you felt returning Harry to a family who had ‘misplaced’ him
without thorough investigation was a tenable idea.”
“I personally…” she began.
“Be careful what you admit, madam,” Lucius said dangerously, leaning forward on
the cane he held centered in front of him. “I’m going to have to ask you to
leave.”
Abigail stood mechanically and followed Lucius from the room. As the sounds
Harry made grew fainter, she was able to think clearly once more. “I will be
ordering an extensive investigation into the Dursleys, Mr. Malfoy. However,
they are Muggles and so our methods are limited. In cases such as these, it is
usually required for a Ministry Legilimens to review the magical child’s
memory. Please be prepared for that eventuality. If guilt is discovered beyond
reasonable doubt, the Ministry will arrange for their conviction and detainment
in a Muggle prison.”
Lucius offered her a predatory smile. “Until this matter is concluded, I’m
going to have to ask you to go through my lawyers.”
“I understand,” Abbott said softly. She gave a bow and flooed directly to the
Ministry and her department. She had work to do.
With a flex of will, Lucius closed the wards around the manor, disabling the
floo network. By the time he returned to the sitting room, everyone was off the
floor. Harry was sandwiched between Draco and Narcissa, his messy head of black
hair resting on Draco’s shoulder. He looked exhausted but calm. Draco, on the
other hand, looked absolutely furious, as if he were barely managing to rein it
in. 
Meeting Draco’s glare, Lucius informed him, “The manor has been sealed behind
our wards. No one will be able to floo in or out or approach within a half-mile
in either direction. From this point on, the Department of Magical Child
Services will have to go through our lawyers before speaking with us and a more
thorough investigation will be held regarding the Muggles. It is likely Harry’s
memories will be demanded by the courts. However, he will never be returning
there. That I promise you.”
Draco nodded his head in understanding, his hold on Harry tightening. “I want
Severus to look at the memories. No one else.”
“I will make it happen,” Lucius promised. He stepped close enough to gently
place his hand on Harry’s hand. He moved slowly, waiting for Draco to protest,
but his son merely watched with unblinking silver eyes. “We will protect you,
Harry. You are a Malfoy and we take care of our own. You are safe here.”
- shame guilt -Green eyes looked up at him tearfully. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry,
sir.”
“Sorry?” Lucius asked, tilting his head curiously.
It was reminiscent of the way Draco held his head in more unguarded moments of
curiosity and Harry began to cry. “I didn’t trust Draco to protect me. Didn’t
trust you.”
Lucius’s hand tightened in Harry’s hair, but he quickly released his grip when
Draco’s eyes narrowed and he revealed his teeth in a dangerous grin. Instead he
knelt so he could look more easily into Harry’s eyes. “You did exactly right,
Harry,” he told him fiercely. “You protected Draco. That is never the wrong
thing to do.” Touching the boy’s chin, forcing those green eyes to meet his
own, he said, “Thank you.”
Harry’s eyes widened, knowing how Lucius felt about those two words. He smiled,
lips trembling and face damp with tears, and reached forward to wrap his thin
arms around Lucius’s neck in a brief hug. After a quick second, he turned and
buried his face against Draco’s chest. 
Draco pet his boy’s hair, eyes a cold silver. “I’m taking him to bed. I’ll meet
you in your study in an hour. We need to talk about what’s going to happen.”
Lucius nodded and stood, saying nothing as the boys climbed off the couch and
made their way out of the room, still wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.
When the boys were out of sight, Narcissa went into her husband’s arms. She
tilted her head back and, when his lips touched hers, she kissed him with all
the heat and passion in her soul. 
They parted, Narcissa’s hair tumbling down her back as Lucius’s hands slipped
free of the coils, lips swollen and red-cheeked. Still no words passed between
them. Then she turned and walked from the room. Lucius watched her go, feeling
tight and hot in all the best places and knew she’d be in their bed tonight. 
Determined, Lucius made his way to his office. Severus must be informed that he
may be needed soon, and then he needed to contact Dumbledore. How had the Head
of the Department of Magical Child Services gotten ahold of Harry’s old
address? Lucius had used every channel he had and still had come up empty. Not
even Severus had told him the location of the disgusting Muggle pigs. So how
had Abigail Abbott known?
… 
Dumbledore rose swiftly from his desk as Severus strode in, robes flaring
around him. He knew something of great importance must have happened for
Severus to have left in the middle of teaching class. Before the man could
speak, however, an eagle owl of great speed and weight swooped in, dropped a
letter on his desk, and flew away. 
“I believe it is from Lucius,” Severus informed him dryly.
Dumbledore opened the letter. Frowning deeply, he came around the desk and
grabbed some floo powder. Calling an address, he stepped through only to arrive
into the living room of Mrs. Figg a moment later, startling several cats. 
Mrs. Figg blinked owlishly at her visitor from her spot on the couch, holding a
cup of tea. “Dumbledore?” 
“Did you speak to anyone regarding Harry’s former residence?” he demanded,
Lucius’s letter clutched in his fist.
“Sir…?” Mrs. Figg looked rather shocked.
“Forgive my intrusion,” Dumbledore said more calmly. “I’ve had some news that
Harry’s address was given to Child Services. Did you speak to anyone about
Harry’s former residence, madam? Anyone at all?”
“No,” she stated with certainty. “I am not a very social person, as you well
know.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Dumbledore gave her a twinkling smile and stepped back
through the floo. 
Severus was waiting for him with crossed arms and a scowl. “Well?”
Dumbledore shook his head. “No.” He stroked his beard. “That only leaves one
person who could have divulged the Dursley’s address.”
Severus’s glare grew worse. “Why do you insist on trusting him?”
Dumbledore looked gravely over his glasses. “Hadgrid is a very devoted soul.”
“He’s incompetent at best,” Severus snapped back.
The old wizard went back to his desk and sat down, petting his long beard in
thought. “We cannot undo what has been done.” He looked curiously up at his
former student. “What did your letter say?”
“Lucius wants me to perform Potter’s memory extraction.” Severus began to pace
fretfully. “I do not want my ability with the Mind Arts to be advertised to the
Ministry.”
“I would trust no one else with young Harry’s memories,” Dumbledore countered
solemnly. “Do not worry. I’m certain Lucius will be able to formulate a plan to
keep your involvement secret.”
Severus scowled. “And what will you tell him?”
“I will tell him the same thing I will tell the Ministry. That I did not say
Harry had no living relatives. I merely stated that he had no remaining living
relatives. As in, no remaining relatives who were fit to act as guardians,
which was nothing but the truth. I will further explain that while I had
suspicions regarding the perpetrators of Harry’s disappearance, I had no proof
and could not request an investigation because I had sworn to protect the
Durlsey’s location for fear of Death Eater attack.”
Severus sneered in disgust. “You have everything figured out.”
Dumbledore stared over his half-moon glasses, a cold warning in his eyes. “For
now, I will inform the students you are sick. Handle things with the Malfoys
and Harry. I expect you back in class by Wednesday.”
Severus spun and stormed from the room, leaving his old mentor behind.
…
For the last three hours, Auror Shacklebolt had cast Tracking charms and
Proximity wards in the Dursley house and yard. He did this while under a strong
Notice-Me-Not charm so that the neighbors would not raise an alarm. It wouldn’t
have been necessary, except no one had been home to answer his pointed
questions. This honestly hadn’t surprise him. After viewing Head Abbott’s
memory in a pensieve, he had interpreted Mrs. Dursley’s nearly fainting in a
different way - not as a fearful mother, but as the fear of a criminal about to
be caught.
…
Lucius and Draco had talked for hours. Lucius had explained how the justice
system worked in the Wizarding world. More specifically, he had detailed each
step the case that had been opened regarding Harry and the Dursleys would go
through. Brief notes from Lucius’s sources had arrived regularly with updates
from the Auror department as well as the Child Service department. Lucius had
even contacted one of the Ministry Legilimens who owed him a debt, one Margaret
Bellmouth, and had claimed his price as her compliance with their deception. 
The plan was for Severus to extract only those memories deemed necessary to win
the case against the Dursleys. He would then place those memories in a vial
that Harry would carry. Lucius would request Bellmouth as Harry’s Legilimens,
and Harry would then pass them off to Bellmouth when she “examined” him. She
would then submit those select memories as the entirety of what she could find
in Harry’s mind regarding the abuse he had suffered. 
“What did you do that she’d lie for you like this?” Draco had asked.
“Abortions are illegal in the Wizarding world,” Lucius had answered, smiling a
cold smile. “I merely helped her get what she needed so that her future wasn’t
ruined.”
Severus had arrived then, knocking on the front door after having walked half-
a-mile to the manor. Narcissa and Lucius had greeted him, but soon led him to
Lucius’s study where the boys were waiting.
Draco sat in his customary armchair in front of Lucius’s desk. Severus crossed
the room and sat facing him, his expression blank with his hair hanging lank
and oily around his face. Neither of them said anything, simply watching each
other guardedly.
“Good evening, Mr. Snape,” Harry offered politely. 
He sat between Draco’s legs, the blond holding him tightly to his chest,
Draco’s other hand gripping his hair, a reassuring weight. His head was tilted
back, resting comfortably on the larger boy’s shoulder. Each of Draco’s slow
exhales brushed his cheek, warm and soft. He still felt - guilty - for not
trusting in Draco’s protection, so he was - anxious - to do this right. He
stared up at the vampire-like man, his eyes wide and yet determined.
Severus struggled to meet that all too familiar green gaze. “This shouldn’t
take more than an hour. What seems like hours within the mind passes as minutes
in reality.”
“Everything’s going to be okay, Harry,” Draco murmured softly, his voice right
by Harry’s ear and vibrating through his Draco’s chest against Harry’s back.
His eyes never left Snape as he spoke.
“I’ll be good,” Harry promised, never looking away from the man’s dark, black
eyes. He’d been told Severus would need eye contact to do the spell right.
Severus, his chest feeling tight, watched as Draco lifted the hand he had
pressed to Harry’s chest and slipped the boy’s glasses off his face. Harry
blinked a few times, his eyes clearly out of focus but never once leaving
Severus’s own. It made Harry’s eyes seem brighter and more vulnerable. Severus
shifted uncomfortably.
“Good boy,” Draco whispered, tone sensual. Sliding the glasses on Lucius’s
desk, he returned his hand to Harry’s chest, right above his heartbeat. “Okay,
Snape. He’s ready.”
Severus nodded and cast, “Legilimens!”
Immediately, he was bombarded with a thousand booming slams of a small door
followed by suffocating darkness. Pushed, stumbling, crawling, kicked, walking,
running - a thousand repetitions - through a doorway that signified both
comfort and torment. Then the final boom and darkness. Again. And again. And
again. 
The desire for light, rivaled only by thirst and hunger hit Severus next.
Hundreds of moments with his face to the floor, pressing as close as he could
to the sliver of light at the bottom of the door. Scratching at the floor,
walls, door until his nails splintered and bled. Learning to cry silently,
terrified of bothering people - people who lived outside the darkness. The
accumulated hours spent with his forearm pressed deep into his mouth, trying
desperately to muffle the sobs and screams he couldn’t contain anymore. 
And the hunger… The thirst… nearly to the point of death… It went way past
physical agony. The additional, subtler torment of forever itchy, sore, bug-
bitten skin. All of this underscored by the constant aching desire that
consumed the boy’s days… to be good, wanted, loved, full, clean. To be outside
the darkness, to be able to be with people in the light. An eternal wanting
paired with unrelenting self-hate. Hatred of his own filthy skin, of his
existence that continued to burden others no matter how hard he tried. 
Severus had no idea how long he’d been lost in the dark abyss filled with
overwhelming impressions of Harry’s childhood. He was able to just barely pull
back enough to stand on bleak, snow-covered ice amid the white nothingness of
Harry’s mind. 
Shivering, cold to the soul, Severus bit his lip, trying not to weep. He had to
move. He had to push through this barrier for surely Harry’s mind was more than
this! Panting, half-sobbing, Severus put one foot in front of the other.
Slowly, the sky deepened and darkened to a beautiful blue and pretty sparkling
snowflakes filled the air. Sleek, silver chains glinted in the light,
crisscrossing over the top of the ice, creating a strange but stable foundation
for soft snow to settle on. The powdered snow cushioned every step and buffered
the painful cold coming off the ice.
It wasn’t much, but those few things made all the difference, turning the
barren landscape into something beautiful and peaceful. It gave Severus space
to get his breath back and remember his purpose. He needed specific memories of
the Dursleys. Impressions wouldn’t be good enough for the Ministry. Bracing
himself, he crouched and smoothly pressed his hands through the bitting cold of
the ice to touch the poisoned obsidian waters underneath.
…
Draco waited, focusing intently on the bond. The bleak, black emotions that hid
in the depths of Harry’s heart stirred slowly to life. They began to fill
Draco’s chest and mind to the point where he had to distance himself from the
bond so he wasn’t pulled under. Sweating, clutching Harry tightly enough to
cause pain, he lifted his head to see Snape was crying. Face pale as a ghost,
Snape stared blindly forward, tears drenching his face. Every few seconds, his
body would be wracked with a shiver as if he were freezing cold. 
The clock showed it had been more than an hour. Surely Snape had what he
needed? The shadows of the room had grown darker and seemed to be creeping
toward them. Draco had had enough. He tried to speak, but all that came out was
a hoarse croak. Clearing his voice, he tried again.
“Snape.” There was no response. “Snape!” Draco saw the man’s eyelids flicker.
Gathering all the air he could into his lungs, he bellowed furiously, “SNAPE!”
Severus blinked, the connection breaking between him and Harry, and curled over
his knees with a moan. He winced and covered his ears as an anguished scream
began to build in Harry’s chest, but before it could escalate, it cut off. 
It took several minutes before Severus felt strong enough to lift his head.
When he did, he saw Draco on his knees on the chair. Harry was still sitting
between his thighs. His arms were crossed over his body, Draco holding onto
each wrist and pulling the boy’s arms tight. As he watched, Draco bent forward,
forcing Harry’s body to do the same and putting more pressure on the boy’s
shoulders. 
Harry looked wild. His pupils were blown and he was breathing hard and fast
with tears streaking his face. Every few minutes he’d shake his head as if in
denial or refusal. Draco said nothing that Severus could see, but the intensity
of his gaze spoke volumes.
* You’re here with me. You aren’t there anymore. You aren’t Freak, *Draco said
into his boy’s mind. 
- hatred fear disgust unworthiness guilt -Harry gasped and panted in Draco’s
punishing hold. He tried to think, tried to remember like Draco wanted, but the
darkness wouldn’t go back where it came from. He wanted to howl and scream and
get away from Draco before he got him dirty!- fear NEED self-hate -
* You’re mine. You take care of me and heal me. I need you, Harry. All you have
to do is love me. I got the rest, remember? *
Harry began to cry, low sobs that grew in volume until he was wailing and about
to be sick.
Draco looked up and caught Snape’s eyes, desperate. “Put him out. Please make
him sleep.”
Still shaken, Severus managed to pull his wand and cast a Stupefy. Harry
immediately slumped over. Draco called for their house elf and had the creature
take Harry to bed. That left Severus and Draco, panting and sweat-soaked,
staring at each other.
“What did you see?” Draco asked, hoarse.
“Too much,” Severus answered without thinking. He covered his face with a
shaking hand. “They truly hated him. Imagine living with a walking, talking
maggot-filled corpse. Imagine the aversion you’d feel. How disgusting it would
be. That’s how they treated him. They locked him away most of the time. When he
did come out, they refused to touch him, and if they did, they’d have to scrub
their skin raw afterwards. Harry tried so hard to be good, but it was literally
impossible. It didn’t matter what he did, they would always hate him. Worse, he
hated himself.” Tears burned his cheeks as they fell anew. “Merlin, how he
hated himself.”
“Still does sometimes,” Draco admitted, exhausted to the bone. He found the
strength from somewhere to climb off the chair and stand next to Snape’s. He
put a reassuring hand on the man’s arm. “But he’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“I know.” Severus dropped his hand, too numb to be ashamed of his tears. He
looked into the eyes of the little boy in front of him. “I had to see if he was
okay. If there was hope. I looked for memories of you.”
Draco met his gaze. “And?”
“He’s not under the spell Lily was under. He wasn’t altered by magic. He
genuinely loves you because you were the first person to reach out to him, to
touch him and make him feel like a person. Made him think it was okay to step
out into the light.” Severus wanted the child to understand, to know how
important he was to Harry. “Somehow you managed to make him feel new.”
Draco reached forward and stroked the man’s hair. “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s over
now. Harry’s never going back. This was the last time. I’m going to make sure
he never goes back to the darkness.”
Severus reached out and grabbed the boy’s shoulder. “You could destroy him
utterly. Please be careful, Draco.” 
Draco didn’t answer, just stared back at him with that unsettling direct stare
he had. Severus closed his eyes and let his hand fall. For several minutes he
simply breathed, trying to force his emotions under control. As Draco continued
to gently pet his hair, he slowly brought his Occlumency barriers back in
place. Draco dropped his hand and stepped back to give him room, sensing the
shift. 
Not meeting the child’s piercing gaze, Severus lifted his wand. He concentrated
and pulled several glowing white strands from his head. Pulling a vial from his
pocket, he let them drop inside one at a time before corking the vial. He gave
it to Draco. 
“This is several memories of them shutting him into a small space. Likely a
closet of some kind. They include his feelings of hunger and misery. It will be
enough for the case. I chose times where Harry was in a relatively more stable
emotional state. The depths of his darkness will remain secret.”
“Thank you,” Draco said softly, accepting the vial. 
Severus gave him a nod and strode from the room.
Draco sighed, wondering how long this understanding would last between them.
Not wanting to waste any more time and not wanting to explain himself to Lucius
or Narcissa, he called for Dobby.
The little elf arrived looking as eager to please as ever. “Yes, Master?” 
“Take me to my room please,” Draco asked.
“Yes, Master!” 
With a snap, Draco was in their bedroom, staring at Harry sleeping on the bed.
Draco shed his clothes and crawled up next to his boy. He carefully took the
boy’s clothes off one piece at a time. Eventually they were both naked. Skin to
skin, he curled protectively around the smaller boy under the covers. Draco
pressed his face into Harry’s messy black hair, but he didn’t sleep. He rested,
but he wanted to be aware the moment Harry woke.
“It’s alright, Harry. I’ll take care of ya,” he whispered, holding his boy
tight.
Chapter end.
 
***** Plots *****
Plots
Harry woke feeling raw. Dark despair still oozed from his soul, filling his
eyes with tears. Curling into a miserable ball, he cried. Draco wrapped around
him from behind, humming softly. They lay like that for a long time until Harry
felt numb enough to uncurl and lay on his back. He blinked up at Draco’s blurry
face, trying not to feel, trying to remember he was with Draco now. 
“What do you need, Harry?” Draco asked softly, hand running tenderly through
his hair.
Harry closed his eyes as the darkness rippled in his mind - Don’t deserve
things! Ungrateful, evil little Freak! You’re bothering Draco! Nothing but a
burden! Should’ve died and saved the world the trouble! - and without realizing
it, he whispered tearfully, “I just wanna be your puppy.” He wanted to not
think for a while; he wanted the voices to stop!
In the darkness behind his eyelids, he heard Draco’s voice. It was firm, no
longer soft and whispery. “You’re a good puppy, aren’t you, Harry?” 
Heart suddenly beating fast, he opened his eyes. Draco’s face was right in
front of him, close enough that he wasn’t blurry. He looked happy, his grey
eyes sparkling. 
“Draco’s special little puppy. He can walk on two legs if he wants and sleeps
in Draco’s bed, but puppies can’t talk like people. They have to let their
owner know in puppy ways what they want. And they can’t sit on the furniture or
eat at the table. Puppies have to stay on the floor. Puppies don’t wear
clothes, either, do they? Just their collars.”
- nervous disbelief -Was Draco really going to play with him? Hesitantly,
afraid Draco would get mad or call him a freak, he made a soft whimpering sound
and gave the blond’s chin a very quick lick.
Draco didn’t get mad; he laughed! Harry’s eyes went wide as the blond grinned
down at him and ruffled his hair.  - joy excited -He watched with bright eyes
as Draco rolled off the bed and began to get dressed. He didn’t talk to Harry
or look at him. He treated him like he really was a puppy. 
Basking in the knowledge that Draco was going to play with him, Harry gave a
tentative yip. 
Draco walked out of their closet dressed in a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and
his favorite sneakers. “What’s the matter, puppy? Do you want to go outside an’
play? Are ya hungry?”
Harry gave a more confident bark and let his tongue hang out of his mouth. 
Draco smiled. “Alright. Let me write a quick note to Narcissa and then we’ll go
eat and play outside for a bit.” 
Not waiting for an acknowledgment, he went out to their small sitting room. He
opened the drawer and pulled out some parchment. He didn’t bother with the
chair, simply bending over to scribble a quick message: Harry isn’t feeling
good, so we are playing a game to make him feel better. Leave us alon. If you
see us, don’t say any thing to Harry. 
Straightening, he tapped the feather against his chin, debating on whether to
say more. A warm weight against his leg made him look down. Harry, naked and
grinning, was crouched on the floor next to him with his tongue hanging out and
panting softly like a dog. The sickening combination of - despair misery
depression - from when Harry had first woken had been replaced by - peace happy
trust - . Determined for Harry to have what he needed, he bent over the note
once more: I no you don’t get the game, but trust me. I no what Harry needs to
be okay agin. We will not play a long time. Please help me make Harry happy
today by just leeving us alon. Tell Lucius to.
Finished, he called for Dobby. When the elf appeared, he handed him the paper.
“Give this to Narcissa, please.”
“Yes, Master!” Dobby didn’t even blink at Harry crouched naked on the floor. 
Draco knelt in front of his boy and rubbed both hands in his hair. “You’re
hungry, aren’t you, puppy?” he asked in a baby voice, grinning.
Harry barked again and licked Draco’s cheek and chin several times.
Laughing, Draco stood and strode to the door. He held it open and patted his
thigh. Harry chose to stay on all fours. He moved pretty quickly, actually, in
a surprisingly easy scamper/hop-type movement with his knees bent and his arms
extended. He barked and sat up with his hands in a folded position as he waited
for Draco.
Draco pet his head once more and shut the door behind him. “Good boy,” he said,
making Harry blush - happy excited.  
Draco led the way to the smaller dinning room where they normally had
breakfast. He walked slowly, hoping to give Narcissa time to read the note and
talk to Lucius. Right before they crossed the threshold, he reached down to
grab Harry’s collar. Green eyes looked up at him, squinting slightly as he
still didn’t have his glasses on. 
“I don’t know if Lucius or Narcissa like dogs,” Draco told him. He didn’t want
Harry to be unprepared for a negative reaction. “If they don’t, we’ll eat in
the kitchen, okay, puppy?”
Harry gave a little whimper - nervous trust.
Mentally bracing himself for their reaction, Draco released Harry’s collar and
walked into the room. Harry followed right on his heels. His body language was
more hunched and some of his excitement for the game had disappeared, but they
needn’t have worried. Lucius and Narcissa remained blank-faced as they entered
the room. 
Draco took his seat and Harry sat on the floor next to him, slowly relaxing and
getting into the game again. 
“Good morning, Draco,” Narcissa said with a small smile. She included Harry in
the smile, but she didn’t speak to him as the note had instructed her. 
“Draco,” Lucius greeted. He folded the newspaper he had been reading and set it
aside.
“Good morning, Narcissa, Lucius,” Draco answered as if it were a perfectly
normal morning. He dropped his hand to rest on Harry’s head, stroking it
softly. “I’m going to play with Harry outside for a bit after breakfast.”
“I think one day from lessons is allowed,” Narcissa answered easily and snapped
her fingers. 
Lottie walked in at the signal, floating trays of food into the room behind
her. Once everything was on the table, Draco made up two plates. He set Harry’s
on the floor, giving him no utensils. A giggle slipped from Harry before he
began to eat, pressing his mouth to the plate to eat like a puppy. 
Draco watched as Narcissa reached over and touched Lucius’s arm, her eyes dark
with worry. Draco wasn’t sure if her worry was for Harry or worry that Lucius
would say something. The tension in Lucius’s face revealed the man was
uncomfortable, but he said nothing. Satisfied with that, Draco began to eat. He
was happy that Harry was on the floor and couldn’t see the subtle communication
happening between the adults.
“Did Severus get what we need?” Lucius eventually asked. Despite the tension in
his face and body language, his tone of voice was perfectly normal. Draco was
impressed.
“I got the vial of memories. It’s up in our room,” he answered. “Anything
interesting in the paper?” he asked politely.
Lucius’s fingers drummed on the paper beside his plate, telling Draco that he
was bothered by something that had been printed. “Not anything that can’t wait
until later.”
“Let’s talk after lunch,” Draco offered. He planned on making Harry take a nap,
so they’d have some time to talk by themselves. 
“Very well. I will see you then.” Standing, Lucius took his cup of coffee and
left his breakfast mostly uneaten. “Narcissa, Draco,” he said in polite parting
and left the room. 
Narcissa let the silence rest for a few moments before she began to tell him
about a small tea party the Parkinsons were putting together next week. A few
of the kids he’d met at Harry’s birthday would be there and perhaps a few new
kids as well. 
Draco patted his mouth and mirrored her polite smile. “Sounds interesting. I
look forward to it.” Standing, he gave her a shallow bow and patted his thigh
again. “Come on, puppy. Time to play!”
Harry gave an excited little jump and bark, loping after Draco as he made his
way outside. As soon as Harry felt the sun on his skin, the last of the shadows
and worries disappeared from his mind. He was a puppy! He didn’t have to worry
about anything. All he had to do was be with his boy. It was the easiest thing
to do… Except… He really had to pee. Whining, he curled over his bladder and
waited for Draco to tell him what to do.
“Do you have to go pee, puppy?” Draco asked with a laugh, blond hair shinning
in the sun. “Come on. Let’s find a good spot in the grass.”
Harry hurried after him. 
Draco found nice thick grass that was sheltered partially by bushes. Harry
squatted and peed. When he was done, Draco patted his head and told him he was
a good boy. Giggling again, Harry gave a happy bark. 
They walked around for a little bit, just enjoying the sun, when Draco got an
idea. Grinning mischievously, he asked Dobby to fetch them a small ball from
their toy closet. The ball he was given was about the size of a tennis ball and
pretty light. Harry watched it with anticipation, sitting up on his butt and
folding his hands in the begging position.
“Ready, puppy?” Draco asked playfully. Winding his hand back, he threw it as
far as he could. “Fetch!”
Harry took off in a sprint, running on two feet. He slid and dropped to all
fours to pick it up with his mouth before running back to Draco, crouching and
dropping it at the blond’s feet.
“Good boy!” Draco praised and picked it up. He threw it in a new direction. “Go
get it!”
Harry giggled, sprinting after the ball as fast as he could. 
They played fetch until Harry’s legs were burning and he couldn’t quite catch
his breath. Draco teased him, holding the ball over his head and wiggling it,
saying, “Gonna get it? Gonna get it?” Harry flopped onto the ground and refused
to be baited. Draco grinned and jumped onto the sweaty boy, tickling him until
Harry was breathless with laughter. Soon they were wrestling. Harry growled and
bit at him, but Draco was heavier and soon had the smaller boy pinned. 
Panting happily, Draco said, “Come on. Let’s play by the lake. I’m hot.” He
ruffled Harry’s hair and stood.
Harry loped on all fours after him as they made their way to the small lake on
the property. His tongue hung out as he grinned. This was so much fun. He loved
being a puppy!
…
Lucius watched the boys swim naked in the shallows of the lake from his study
window. Their behavior had been disturbing at breakfast, but from this distance
they seemed like perfectly normal children. His mind kept going back to the way
Severus had looked yesterday. The man had come out of his session with Harry
looking as if he’d been tortured. Eyes red-rimmed, face nearly grey, the man
had looked him in the eye and hoarsely stated, “I should have brought them to
you when I had the chance. Death is too good for those people, Lucius.”
Lucius hadn’t had the courage to question him after that. He’d let Severus go
and waited for the boys to emerge, but when the minutes had passed and no one
had come out, he’d called for Lottie. The elf had told him that Harry had been
spelled unconscious and taken by Dobby to their room. Draco had followed a few
minutes later. 
He had expected the boys to stay holed up in their room or for Harry to be
dangerously disturbed. The knowledge that the boy had almost become an Obscurus
was very much at the front of his mind. So when a happy albeit nervous and
naked seven-year-old crawled into the small dinning room pretending to be a
dog, Lucius had bit his tongue. It didn’t make sense to him, but he was honest
enough to admit he didn’t understand most of what went on in either child’s
head. All he knew was that the ‘game’ seemed to work and lift Harry’s spirits.
It also helped that Narcissa had shown him the note, which promised this would
be over quickly.
Movement caught his eye and he noticed an owl swooping toward his window. A
wave of his hand had the window opening outward. The bird landed silently on
his desk, dropped a letter, and winged away. Smiling, he lifted the envelope
and sliced it open. It was from Severus. Apparently the half-human
groundskeeper had known Harry’s address and had divulged that information while
drunk at the Hogshead. 
According to Severus, several nights prior the groundskeeper had gotten ahold
of the newspapers announcing Draco and Harry’s return as well as the fact that
Harry had been kidnapped and missing for over a year. (The man apparently did
not keep up with news during the summer and had only recently been made aware
of events with the return of the excitable and gossipy students.) This had led
the groundskeeper to reminisce during a drinking session at the Hogshead about
the night he had dropped Harry off at his family’s house and lament over the
fact the boy had been forced to endure more tragedy after losing his parents.
The barkeep remembered a hooded figure approaching the drunken man, but the
person had cast privacy wards so the barkeep couldn’t say for sure what was
discussed after that point. Certainly Harry’s former address had been mentioned
or they wouldn’t now be in this situation.
Turning from the window and the view of the two boys in the lake, he activated
the wards on his door and crossed to the shelving along one wall. With a
practiced hand, he chose an old wooden chalice with gold plating around the
outside of the rim. Platinum hair falling loose around his shoulders, he sat
behind his desk, placed the chalice before him, and began to fold his left
sleeve up to his elbow. Lifting his wand, he pressed the tip to his wrist and
held it over the chalice. Incanting softly under his breath, he watched with
steady grey eyes as blood poured from his unbroken skin. He stopped when the
chalice was half-full, spilling about sixteen ounces. 
He set his wand aside and watched as circular ripples began to form along the
surface of the thick, tacky liquid. Runes etched into the soft gold plating
appeared as they glowed a hot orange. He only had to wait a handful of minutes
before a voice rose from the depths, the ripples jumping softly with each word.
“Lucius.”
“Huld,” Lucius answered in return, voice neutral. Huld could be a first or last
name, male or female. Lucius didn’t know. By his accent, Huld sounded native-
born, but a charm could have made him sound as such. None of that mattered
except as a passing curiosity. What mattered was that Huld came very highly
recommended for his skills.
“I’ve searched three Black properties. None of them possess traces of the
Malfoy ward signature. I also did some research.”
With the new clue that Draco had been left with the last name of Black, Lucius
had finally managed to convince Huld to take his case. Previously Huld had
declared the case impossible. Now it was slightly less impossible. He had
charged Lucius an exorbitant amount - but only for every new thing he
discovered. This was their first check in. So far he’d earned nothing.
“Lord of the Noble House of Black, Orion Black, died at the early age of fifty
in 1979. Ministry documentation stated his cause of death as the Killing Curse.
His murderer was never found. This was two years before your son was abducted,
so I can rule him out. Lady Walburga Black died in 1985 at age sixty. Her death
was ruled accidental. Her magical channels had been singed and her core
shredded. She had likely been working some magic that failed and she died of
the backlash. She is a possible candidate, however I can think of no motive for
her to kidnap her Pureblood, great-nephew. Of their children, Sirius Black and
Regulus Black, Regulus died in 1979, causes unknown. He simply disappeared from
the bloodline. Sirius Black, however, is suspect. His anti-Pureblood views give
him motive. It’s possible he committed the kidnapping before his arrest on
November 1st, 1981, for the murder of a dozen Muggles and as an accessory to
the Potter murders.” 
“Sirius…” Lucius said the name coldly, wondering if he’d finally found the soul
who had dared steal his son from him and condemned him to a life of sexual
slavery and abuse.
“Lady Walburga’s brother Alphard Black, died in 1977 at age fifty-two from a
broom accident and could not be responsible. Her only other sibling, Cygnus
Black, Lady Narcissa’s father, is still alive, however he’s been in seclusion
since his wife’s death in 1973. His mental state is unknown, therefore it is
possible that he committed the kidnapping or hired an agent to do so. Ms.
Druella Rosier-Black, Lady Narcissa’s mother, died from magical suicide in
1973. Her mental state had become so unstable that her own magical core slowly
poisoned her. The birth of her Half-blood granddaughter and her youngest child
Bellatrix forgoing marriage to take the Dark Mark that same year seem to have
contributed to her depression.”
“I see.” Lucius drummed his fingers along the desktop, frowning. 
He had disapproved of Narcissa’s very unstable mother. Seeing his wife’s
distress in her presence had led him to ban her parents from visiting. Narcissa
could visit them if she pleased, but he would make the manor a safe haven for
her. Had Cygnus gone insane and stolen Draco in revenge? If that were the case,
Lucius would bear some responsibility in Draco’s kidnapping. Hands fisting, he
ground his teeth, hating that thought with a passion.
“Lady Narcissa’s sisters are both alive, but one did not carry the name Black
when the abduction took place and I found no ward residue in the Tonks home.
The other is in Azkaban and has no motive, although Bellatrix was capable of
committing the kidnapping. I will continue my investigation into Cygnus,
Sirius, and Bellatrix Black after I receive three payments from you. Be warned
it may take me some time to investigate the remaining suspects as two are in
Azkaban and Cygnus’s location has been unknown for fourteen years. It’s also
possible that leaving Draco with the name Black was a message that an enemy of
the Black family and not an enemy of the Malfoy family is to blame. In that
case, the search parameters will have to be significantly widened and you will
have to find yourself a new investigator or give me more to go on.”
Lucius glared coldly. “I will award you three payments upon the completion of
your investigation of the remaining Blacks and nothing until then. All you have
done is recount Black family history.”
“I have cleared three residences of your ward residue, Lord Malfoy. That is not
a simple feat. You will pay me three installments of the price you agreed to
when you hired me. Or I will disappear now. I highly doubt anyone else will be
able to find Cygnus or be able to successfully break into Azkaban without
alerting the Ministry.”
“I will pay you one installment,” Lucius countered. “I will hold the other two
in trust for after your completed investigation. If you successfully find
Cygnus, I will add another payment. If you successfully enter Azkaban and get
the information I need, I will add another payment. One payment now, four more
at the end of your mission. Is this acceptable?”
There was silence for a heart-stopping minute before Huld answered. “It is
acceptable. Pleasure doing business with you, Lord Malfoy. I will have my
results to you as soon as I can.”
Lucius watched as the ripples went still. Absentmindedly, he began to clean the
chalice and remove all evidence of his conference. Cygnus, Sirius, or
Bellatrix… One of those were guilty, he was certain. Standing over his now
clean desk, he leaned forward, his hands pressed flat to the surface, his hair
falling over his shoulders, and stared into the shadows of his office. A slow
crawl of magic crackled around his hands as his eyes glinted a deadly silver.
One of them had taken his son and would pay dearly for their crime.
…
The boys had just finished lunch with Narcissa, Harry eating on the floor again
using his mouth to pick up the food. Narcissa hadn’t said anything, but Draco
could tell she wasn’t pleased. Sighing, Draco led Harry to their bedroom. Once
they were locked away from prying, judging eyes, he was able to relax fully. He
grinned at his puppy, and Harry gave a happy bark, tongue hanging out.
“Come on, puppy,” he called and patted the bed. 
Harry leapt up, crawled in a circle, and flopped onto his side. 
Draco smiled and stroked his hair. “You’re gonna be a good puppy and take a
nap, okay?”
Harry gave a yip and turned his head to lick Draco’s wrist - happy calm peace.
“Good boy.” 
Draco pet Harry’s hair a few more minutes, sitting in silence. He basked in the
positive emotions softly thrumming through the bond and the scent of the lake
and sunshine that still clung to their skin. When Harry was half-asleep, he
quietly stood and left him on the bed, shutting the door softly behind him. 
“Dobby,” he called quietly. He held a finger to his lips so that the elf knew
to be quiet. The creature nodded frantically, signaling he understood. Draco
gave him a smile. “When Harry’s good and asleep, please cover him with a
blanket, okay?”
“Yes, Master,” the little elf whispered. “I will, Master. Yous take such good
care of Master Harry, Master.”
“Thank you, Dobby.” Draco smiled and patted the elf on the head on his way out,
making Dobby’s ears flap happily.
It didn’t take him long to make his way to Lucius’s study. The door was shut
and wouldn’t open when he tried the knob, so he knocked. A click sounded a few
seconds later and the door swung open by itself. Draco entered and found Lucius
behind his desk, fingers interlaced and held in front of his mouth. He watched
Draco with an impassive expression. 
Draco hopped up onto the chair facing his father. “What was in the paper?” he
asked, getting to the point.
Lucius sighed and dropped his hands, picking up and passing Draco the folded
paper that had rested at his elbow. “The media got ahold of Harry’s story.” 
Draco took it and opened it to the front page: Boy-Who-Lived Abused Not
Kidnapped?There was another moving photo of them on the stage at the Ministry,
but this one was more of a close up and centered on Harry. Draco was still in
the picture and so were Andromeda and Narcissa who stood in the background. The
article itself wasn’t too long, but Draco couldn’t understand all the words. He
looked to Lucius.
“It reports the fact that the Auror Department and Child Services have opened a
case investigating Harry’s former guardians and that Andromeda wasn’t his
original guardian as we let the public believe. Mr. Cuffe goes on to demand an
accounting of who was responsible for ensuring the Boy-Who-Lived went to a safe
home. He even suggests that Harry’s placement, abuse, and abduction were Death
Eater plots, calling into question your bond and insinuating that the Ministry
should look into dissolving it for Harry’s protection.”
Draco frowned. “They can’t do that.”
“No,” Lucius agreed. “As we didn’t have anything to do with Potter before your
return, the Ministry has no legal way to interfere.”
“But you’re worried,” Draco pointed out.
Lucius leaned back in his chair, eyes falling half-shut lazily. “Rumors,
reputations, and accusations are powerful things. Hate mail and threatening
letters have already been destroyed by the wards.”
Draco scowled. He hated Harry’s fame because if Harry had been just a normal
kid these people wouldn’t care one whit what happened to him. They wouldn’t
blink an eye at child abuse or kidnappings. Because those things happened every
day and yet only Harry’s story was in the newspaper. “What are you going to
do?”
Lucius smiled. “You trust me to handle this?”
Draco met his father’s eyes and said simply, “Yes.”
Lucius’s smile turned into a grin. He leaned forward, expression bright with
enthusiasm. “I’ve already alerted my lawyers and pressed charges against
Barnabas Cuffe. Harry is a minor and as such is protected from having any
information regarding on-going investigations being made public. Cuffe has been
fired and is facing criminal charges. Unfortunately, his words cannot be unseen
by the public. We must turn public opinion back in our favor. I suggest giving
an exclusive interview. I have an acquaintance in journalism. Such an interview
would be a huge boost for her career, so she’ll do exactly as we say.”
Draco sighed. He leaned over, bracing his elbow on the arm of the chair and
resting his cheek on his fist. “What’ll we say?”
Lucius laid out his plan. Draco listened, occasionally snorting in humor. It
was hard to believe people could be so easily manipulated, but the fact that
they were getting hate mail after Cuffe’s illegal article proved that it was
true. In the end, they agreed that Lucius would contact his acquaintance and
invite her to the manor tomorrow morning. 
Draco was just getting ready to rejoin Harry, maybe take a nap, too, when
Lucius sat up straight, his expression becoming serious. 
“Someone is knocking on our wards.” 
Closing his eyes, Lucius concentrated on his connection to the manor’s
protections, blocking everything else out. When an image came slowly into
focus, he frowned, opening his eyes to see Draco watching him expectantly. 
“It is your Unspeakable.”
Draco’s eyes went wide before he turned and hurried from the room. Lucius
followed him at a more sedate pace. There was no hurry. It would take time for
the woman to cross the half-mile to their front door, Apparating completely
blocked. As Lucius predicted, they waited in the foyer for a good ten minutes
before there was a knock. Halfway through that time, Narcissa joined them,
likely alerted by Lottie, so they were all three standing together when Lucius
gestured and the door swung stately open.
The Unspeakable looked paler than before with dark circles ringing her eyes.
Her expression was as empty of emotion as a doll and Lucius tensed. It was
possible that this wasn’t the Unspeakable at all, but a homunculus sent to gain
entry through the wards. Such a thing was hideously complicated and required a
significant amount of power to maintain, but he would never underestimate his
enemies again.
She bowed her head. “Malfoy. Lady Malfoy. Draco.”
“Come have a seat,” Narcissa offered politely, gesturing toward the sitting
room. 
The woman didn’t argue and followed them into the sitting room. She sat in an
armchair and accepted the cup of tea Narcissa offered her. Draco said nothing,
but he was reaching his breaking point. He wanted to know why she’d been gone
so long and what she had discovered about the black form attached to Harry’s
core. He stared at her unblinking, silently demanding answers. Lucius stood by
the small fireplace as was his custom. He’s expression was more patient.
Narcissa mirrored him, forever polite and minding her manners. 
“Forgive me for my long absence. I was deep into my research,” Pandora finally
spoke, setting her tea cup down once it was empty. Some color returned to her
cheeks, but her face was still alarmingly pale. “I passed out from magical
exhaustion and was unconscious for the last three days.”
“What did you find out?” Draco demanded, unable to wait any longer.
Pandora gave him her complete attention. Her blue eyes were dark from fatigue
and piercing. “I found out that there is no current means of breaking the
connection between the Black magic and Harry’s core without inflicting damage
on Harry. I will have to invent a new spell or create a new magical artifact if
such a procedure is to be successful.”
Draco immediately stood, fists clenched and a dark scowl on his face. He
shouldn’t have waited this long! He should have just taken care of it himself!
Pandora reached out to him. “Please,” she said softly. “I ask that you do not
take action.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. “I do not
ask this of you lightly. If I could have your parents’ permission, I’d like to
take you somewhere to show you just how dangerous it would be for you to
attempt such a thing.” Seeing his angry resistance, she pressed harder. “It
will only take an hour or so of your time. If you still disagree, you are free
to act as you please. Can you risk not seeing what I have to show you? It may
effect Harry.”
Lucius and Narcissa were unhappy with this plan. They did not want Draco out
from behind the manor’s wards. They also did not know or trust the Unspeakable.
Anyone could become corrupt. It was also very coincidental that her return
coincided with the article on Harry in the Daily Prophet that called for the
separation of Harry from the Malfoys. 
“Our permission will be withheld until you can convince us of Draco’s safety
and that he will be returned,” Lucius told her, back stiff and eyes narrowed.
“I cannot make a vow. If he were to stumble and hurt himself while in my care,
I would suffer,” Pandora returned reasonably. She met Lucius’s eyes before
meeting Narcissa’s. Solemnly, she told her, “Draco plans to use the bond to
sever the tether between Harry and the Black magic. I assure you that such an
action will be disastrous for him. Only seeing what I have to show him will
convince him otherwise.”
Worried, Narcissa reached over to put her hand on Draco’s arm, as if she could
hold him still or keep him safe with just a touch. She saw in his young face
that the Unspeakable spoke the truth. Heart beating fast, she looked to Lucius,
eyes wide. 
Tone glacial, Lucius came away from the wall and stood in front of the woman.
Pandora stood so that they were on more equal footing. A sneer twisted his
lips, making it clear that merely standing would never make them equal. He
offered the head of his cane, the metal snake head gleaming.
“I will have your vow that you mean him no harm and it is your intent to return
him in an hour’s time,” he told her, tone unyielding. 
She met his eyes for a moment before nodding and setting her hand on the snake
head. She swore the vow and suffered the bite without flinching. Lucius said
nothing. He set the cane on the floor and leaned on it, expression coldly
threatening. Narcissa’s hands twisted in her skirts, worry clear as day on her
features. 
“Dobby!” Draco called, watching all this nonsense through a hot glare.
“Yes, Master!” the elf cried, popping into the room.
“Tell Harry I went with the Unspeakable for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”
Dobby bowed at the waist, saying, “Yes, Master.”
Draco hardly paid any attention, instead following Pandora from the room as she
strode toward the door. The half-mile walk cleared his head a little and he
frowned, wondering what had made Pandora so certain of Harry’s doom if the
tether were to be broken. They walked over grassy hills and around the edge of
the lake, skirting the woods. They stopped without much warning or change in
scenery. She silently offered Draco her hand. He took it and suddenly they were
mashed together and flung through space. 
Draco collapsed to his knees as soon as they landed, his system reeling from
his first time side-Apparating. Through blurry eyes, he saw that they were in a
shaded alley in what looked like London. Pandora said nothing, her hands folded
into her sleeves as she waited for him to recover. Pale and shaking, Draco
climbed to his feet and gave a nod.
She strode from the alley, went down the street, turned the corner and stopped
in front of a red phone booth. Draco squeezed inside with her and watched as
she pulled the hood over her head, her features disappearing in shadow and cast
a Disillusionment Charm on him. With a mighty jerk, the booth dropped. Draco
felt his stomach do a slow roll and closed his eyes. They landed with a jarring
impact. Pandora took his hand, leading him through the Ministry lobby. 
Draco studied her back curiously. She walked with quick purpose, as if
something urgent drove her. How much of that was an act so that no one
questioned them? How much was truth? He began to worry about his boy. What had
she found out? What could make her this tense? 
They breezed by the security check point, and when they got on an elevator, no
one would share it with her, deciding to wait for the next one, so they had it
to themselves. Flying sideways and up and down, they arrived at the second-
lowest level of the Ministry of Magic, Level Nine. The black-tiled walls were
bare with no windows and no doors, apart from a plain black one at the end of
the corridor. Light was provided only by torches, which glowed a blue-white.
Pandora guided him down the narrow corridor without pause. She opened the door
and they walked into the Department proper.
“Stay close to me,” she told him, squeezing his hand to emphasis her point.
“There are things down here designed to disorient any unauthorized personnel
who enter.”
Draco nodded and looked around curiously. The room was circular with a dark
marble floor that looked almost like standing water. Candles emitting a cool
blue light hung along the rounded walls; twelve identical, handleless doors
were placed equal distant apart around them. As soon as the exit door shut, the
wall began to spin, spinning the doors before coming to a stop. Pandora strode
toward one of the doors on the left without hesitation. 
They stepped into a long, rectangular room filled with beautiful, dancing light
that sparkled like diamonds. All kinds of golden devices filled the chamber,
lining the walls on the floor-to-ceiling shelves and standing like sculptures
around the room. Most of them had clock faces and make soft ticking sounds. It
also contained a large crystal bell jar at its far end. It was as tall as an
adult and as wide as Draco’s king sized bed at home. The sparking light seemed
to come from there. Whatever was giving off that light flickered and spun in no
discernible pattern within the glass dome.
“Inside the jar, anything will grow increasingly younger, to its pre-life
state, be reborn to grow older, and cycle through endlessly,” Pandora
explained. 
Draco said nothing, overwhelmed. This was the most blatantly magical place he’d
ever been in. His eyes darted here and there, trying to take in all the
strangeness. 
Pandora led him to an area that looked like small offices just off the main
chamber. She entered one and he stood in the doorway, watching as she grabbed a
bag and shoved a few things into it. Pictures sat on the desk of a blond man
with long hair and a goofy smile and a little girl about Draco’s age. She
turned and he backed up to give her room. She led him straight back to the bell
jar. Draco stared at her as she finally came to a stop and faced him properly.
“We use this special key to open up a space within Time. We perform experiments
there.” Her blue eyes seemed to pierce him. “What you see here today, you can
never tell another soul. It is one of the Great Mysteries of the Department.
Many would use this for evil purposes. Others would try to have it destroyed.”
Draco nodded solemnly. “I won’t say anything.”
“After you see what I show you and you refuse to swear a Vow of Silence, I will
have to Obliviate you. If you understand and still wish to proceed, take my
hand.”
Draco stared at her pale hand for only a second before accepting it. He hadn’t
forgotten for a second that all of this was about Harry. Nothing would stop him
from protecting his boy.
Chapter end.
***** Experiments and Interviews *****
A/N: Freedom_Bound_in_Chains-_fanart by pixi56 has new art with Harry added to
Chapter 2. It's done in paint with color and is really beautiful work. If you
feel like it have a peek and let Pixi know what you think!
 
This chapter is dedicated to: Babyvfan,without whom this chapter would not be
the same. Thank you, Baby!
 
Experiments and Interviews
Pandora held up a golden key. 
The glass wall of the jar began to shimmer and fold inward as if it were
melting. She walked into the warped half-bubble, pulling Draco with her. As
soon as they were inside, she let Draco go and he looked around him in wonder.
They were standing in a white room: the floor tiled, the walls bare, the
ceiling flat above their heads. It was like standing in a large box. The half-
bubble and the jar were gone as if they never existed.
The temperature was neither hot nor cold, and there were absolutely no sounds
or air currents at all. It was a very weird feeling against his skin, and he
rubbed his arms as he followed Pandora across the room. She went to the far
right corner were there was a large pile of something. The pile was covered in
a stark white sheet and formed a type of lumpy pyramid as tall as Draco at its
highest point.
“Please remember that experimentation is a crucial part of the process of
freeing Harry from the foreign Black magic attached to his core,” Pandora told
him, tone brisk as she gripped the sheet.
Draco tilted his head curiously as she pulled. At first his brain didn’t
register what he was seeing. Then with a feeling of a knife tearing through his
gut, he recognized arms, legs, and heads. Dead bodies…. dead children… It was a
pile of corpses as tall as he was. 
Almost as if he were in a trance, he took two steps forward and placed his hand
on a limp arm. It was cool to the touch. Heart thundering in his chest, he
pulled and Harry’s dead body tumbled from the pile, green eyes faded, staring,
empty. He gasped, vision going red. They were all Harry. Some had their eyes
exploded or filled with blood. Some were bald and deformed, but they were all
Harry.
“Draco.” 
He dropped to his knees, taking in how many of them there were, how many times
Harry had died, and clutched the naked body of his boy, cold - lifeless - not
breathing, to his chest. 
“Draco!”
Pandora grabbed his shoulder and he came to his feet in an explosion of
movement. He slapped her hand away, teeth bared in fury, as magic saturated his
body, making him feel almost as if he were vibrating. 
She stared back at him impatiently. “This is what happens to Harry every time I
severed that tether,” she told him. “I tried every way I knew. Every way. I had
to be sure your Harry would be well before we did anything. Magical cores are
fragile, complex, and dangerous. I couldn’t risk hurting Harry, so I came here
to experiment. These aren’t your Harry, Draco. Your Harry is safe at home.
Concentrate. Feel the bond. You know he is well. Think, Draco!”
Panting, shaking, Draco did as he was bid and was immediately aware of Harry’s
- peace contentment - through the bond. With gritted teeth, he kept his back to
the pile of bodies. “Why are they still here?” he bit out. 
Pandora spoke carefully. “I set up this room with specific parameters. I would
have to undo the spellwork to get rid of what’s inside. It’s more efficient to
keep the room whole until all the experiments are finished.” 
When he didn’t say anything immediately, she stepped past him. Bending, she
picked up the body he’d dislodged. It took every inch of self control Draco had
in him to not attack her. He closed his eyes, but every sound was loud in this
void. He heard every rustle, thud, and hiss as she settled Harry’s body onto
the pile and pulled the sheet over them again. Not that it mattered. Now that
he knew what was under it, he would never forget.
He watched through predatory eyes as she moved to the center of the room. She
pulled a weird block of what looked like grey clay out of her bag and pressed
black hairs into its doughy surface. Draco remembered sending Dobby to her
weeks ago at her request with Harry’s hair. Now he wished he’d asked Lucius
what could be done with it before blindly giving her what she wanted.
In horror, he watched as she placed the clay in the center of a rune circle
that appeared on the ground. Wand in hand, she chanted harsh, abrasive words.
The clay began to expand and become the color of Harry’s flesh. Slowly a baby
formed curled up on the floor, messy hair and all. Years passed in a moment,
the baby growing into a toddler with chubby cheeks. Pandora stopped chanting
once Harry looked the same age he was now. 
Draco felt his breath whoosh in and out of his lungs as the black-haired boy
blinked a few times before pushing up and coming to a sitting position. He
looked at his hands in wonder, grunting. Bright green eyes lifted and locked
onto Draco, and they were Harry’s eyes. He clumsily staggered to his feet,
naked with his arms out for balance.
As if from far away, Pandora’s voice said, “I’m going to trick your magic into
thinking you have a twin-bond with the subject. Then you will use your magic to
try and break the tether. We will see if Harry will survive it this time.”
The boy clumsily wobbled toward Draco, reaching toward him, eyes bright and
smiling. Draco caught him as he tripped and held him to his chest. He felt like
Harry. The same skin, the same smell, the same curves and edges. The boy made
babbling sounds, blinking wide green eyes in wonder. He reached up to pat
Draco’s face; Draco caught that clumsy hand and held it tightly. 
Without looking away from the boy’s face, he asked, “And if I can’t?”
“Then the subject will die and we’ll know if you should attempt it with your
Harry.” He looked up at her and she gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll
break the false bond before you suffer the backlash.”
That was the last thing he was worried about. There was a living, breathing
Harry in his arms and she wanted him to try something that she thought would
kill him? Something that would add the boy’s body to the pile behind him? It
made him sick and furious, his skin blazed hot.
“Draco,” she called, drawing his attention from the boy wiggling in his arms.
“The more I’ve studied that Black magic, the more insidious it’s become. We
cannot leave it attached to Harry’s core.”
Draco swallowed hard, arms tightening around the copy of his boy in his arms.
Harry squeaked and flailed, trying to get away from his harsh grip. Closing his
eyes, he deliberately released the kid. The boy fell to the floor in a tangle
of clumsy limbs and began to cry softly in confusion. It physically hurt to
turn away from those eyes filled with tears. Draco shut everything out the way
he’d learned in the Hold. Nothing existed outside of his own mind. 
Harry had something attached to him. Something dangerous, something that killed
him when it was messed with. It was likely something to do with Voldemort, the
evil wizard who tired to kill Harry. The one who carved a lightning shaped scar
into Harry’s head. The same dark, evil force Draco had seen in his vision that
long ago night when he’d tasted Harry’s blood for the first time. Again and
again, Draco had promised he’d take care of Harry and he was going to keep that
promise. No matter what it cost him.
Opening his eyes, he turned around and stared dispassionately at the kid on the
floor. The boy had stopped crying and was watching them, sucking on four of his
fingers. Curiosity and trust radiated from the boy’s innocent face. Draco
looked up at Pandora and nodded his head. 
She gave him a genuine smile. “I knew you’d understand. Go stand in the circle,
please.”
Draco did as instructed, watching through apathetic eyes as she coaxed the kid
to his feet and helped him wobble back to the circle. Draco sat where she told
him to and helped the kid sit in front of him. The boy kept reaching for
Draco’s hair and face, babbling incoherently and smiling. Draco tried to
pretend it wasn’t Harry’s voice he heard. He forced his attention to Pandora’s
chanting and away from the kid who looked like Harry. 
He watched impassively as he felt a bond establish itself between them. He
could feel the boy’s heartbeat as if it were next to his own in his chest and
the wonder and innocence of the newborn mind. He grabbed hold of those
wandering hands and stared into those green eyes, feeling pulled by Pandora’s
magic into the boy’s core. 
A great gold river bathed him in gentle illuminessence. There were no shadowed
spots or burnt umber colors, only bright and sparkling gold. It was
breathtaking, and Draco felt his resolve waver. There was no way he could
damage or sacrifice something this purely beautiful. Sweetness and gentleness
soaked into his skin as Harry’s heart continued its stead rhythm. 
From the corner of his eye, something dark caught his attention. Then, he saw
it, the Black form connected by a thin tether to the rolling waves of golden
magic. It was disgusting. It didn’t belong anywhere near the gorgeous river. It
was absolutely offensive to Draco’s senses and he lashed out instinctively.
Reaching deep inside, he released the iron hold he had on his rage and hate,
swinging it like a blade. He pulled on everything he had and flung it through
the newly formed bond, a poisonous green sword. 
The Black magic hissed like acid as his magic hit. It swelled and screamed.
Dozens of new tethers lashed out. The gold river darkened as a suction-like
force began pulling Harry’s magic up through those bridges. Spiky and violently
undulating, the Black began to grow. Harry’s screams filled his ears, high-
pitched and terrified. Fear and pain hit Draco like a psychic blow through the
bond. He tried to stop it, tried to get between them, but he only got pulled
into the suction as well. 
It was worse than any game with Raymond. It was as if his very essence were
being shredded. He was pulled inexorably into the vile darkness. Right before
he was about to black out from the agony, the bond was severed forcefully. 
On his hands and knees, panting as if he’d been drowning, Draco could hardly
think through the all-consuming pain. He watched through tear-filled eyes as
Harry went into seizures. Violent ones that had the little boy’s bones braking
as his limbs thrashed against the floor. Blood filled those innocent green eyes
while white-yellow bile bubbled and splattered from the boy’s mouth and nose.
The acidic stench was terrible, and Draco began to gag. He crawled forward. His
heart slammed against his chest, panicked and terrified, and Draco couldn’t
breathe! He reached for his boy. 
“Avada Kedavra,” Pandora intoned and a terrible pale green flashed past his
reaching hand and struck Harry’s convulsing, broken body. 
A last gurgling breath hissed out of the boy’s throat, tormented eyes went
dark, and Harry’s limbs went still as death, splayed at awkward angles, his
head lolling to the side. Draco stared helplessly into those empty, blood-
rimmed eyes. The empty space where the new bond had been left a gaping hole in
his chest.
Pandora crouched, completely ignoring the corpse behind her. She cast spells
that slightly dulled the agony, and Draco began to shiver violently. He stared
blindly through her body, still seeing those dead green eyes, Harry’s face
contorted in agony.
A firm hand gripped his jaw and cheeks. “Focus, Draco. You’re
hyperventilating.” Releasing him, she stood and lifted Harry’s body into her
arms. The little boy’s legs, arms, and head hung limply. 
The memory of Harry’s screams wouldn’t stop echoing through his head.
“I’ve seen this reaction again and again. No matter what is wielded against
that magic it somehow stimulates some sort of survival instinct.” She pulled
the sheet off enough to add the new body to the pile. Harry fell onto the
others with a meaty thud, the muffled slap of naked skin against skin. “If it
were simply magic, that shouldn’t be possible.” 
Dragging the sheet back over the pile, she turned and began to spell the room
and her robes clean. Draco watched her through unblinking eyes, still
shivering, his legs hugged tightly to his chest. She could clean all she
wanted. He would never forget her holding Harry’s dead body in her arms. 
She cast non-verbally, allowing her to keep talking. “I have a theory. Somehow
the Black is not just simply magic but a small magical core. The only thing I
can think is that the Dark Lord somehow lost a piece of his core and it
attached to Harry in some type of transference at the moment of his death.
Possibly it happened because of the prophecy that connects them.”
She began to pack her bag and once she was finished, she held her hand out to
him. Draco stood without taking it. He would not forget that she was able to
create and kill Harry dozens of times without showing an ounce of emotion, to
hold his small dead body in her arms and feel nothing.
Pandora waved the key in a complicated pattern. The pale white braid that fell
heavily down her back swayed softly side to side as she moved. Arms wrapped
tight around his chest, Draco’s teeth chattered as he watched the walls begin
to disintegrate into blackness. The pile of bodies in the corner shook and
became unstable. 
They toppled, falling across the floor. Draco saw evidence of burns on on small
hands and pale arms, cuts and stab wounds on stomachs and torsos, strangulation
bruises on throats. Others had their eyes closed and looked as if they were
simply sleeping - if it weren’t for the deathly pale color of the skin and the
unnatural stillness. One in particular had dried tears on his cheeks. He’d
cried hard before he’d died - confused, scared, hurting. 
Draco knew they weren’t his Harry, but they looked like him and were made from
him. He wanted to take care of their bodies. He wanted to smooth each face and
kiss each cheek before saying goodbye, but Pandora was already leaving. He took
one last look before following her. 
They stepped back into the softly ticking Time chamber. Nothing looked
different. In fact, it looked as if only a minute had passed. But he was
different. He’d lost something and he didn’t think he’d ever get it back. I
watched Harry die,he realized with bleak horror. Harry died and I couldn’t save
him.
“What prophecy?” he asked hoarsely. His insides felt shredded. 
Pandora turned to him, expression blank, but he saw the realization that she’d
said something she shouldn’t have in her eyes. 
Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist in a punishing grip and practically growled.
“I said, what prophecy.”
She winced. Yanking her arm back, she led him to the back where there was a
door. She opened it and they stepped into a dark warehouse filled with hundreds
of rows of shelves like a library. It was dark; he could only see the shelves
in front of him. The others faded into the gloom. Thousands of small, smoke-
filled glowing orbs filled each shelf.
Pandora strode down the walkway and stopped seemingly at random, turning
between two shelves. She walked down the aisle. Stopping, she lifted an orb and
said, “Only seers and those whom the prophecy speaks of can hear it, so I do
not know its contents. Only that it involves Harry Potter and something to do
with the Dark Lord. I will give you the opportunity to see if you can hear it.
If you cannot, I will Obliviate the knowledge of this room and that a prophecy
exists from your mind.”
Draco wanted to spit poison in her face. He probably would have just on general
principle, but he still ached terribly inside. He didn’t think he’d be making
poison any time soon. Glaring, he held out a pale, trembling hand. She set it
gently into his palm and watched him curiously, obviously interested in what
would happen. Draco felt a strong and powerful abhorrence for Unspeakables. 
Nothing happened at first, and he could see her losing interest. Desperate to
know what was happening to his boy, desperate to keep his memories, he closed
his eyes and dove into the bond. It hurt. Draco pushed forward anyway.
Breathing in the pain, letting it run its course, he opened himself to Harry.
- worry disquiet unease -and under that surface emotion there was -
unconditional love trust -and under that - self-hate unrelenting despair pain -
Draco remembered the way Harry’s blood tasted on his tongue, remembered the
vision of evil, and suddenly words began to fill his mouth like warm, thick
peanut butter:
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those
who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord
will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the
other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born
as the seventh month dies…."
Draco staggered. The fragile ball fell from his hand and, with remarkable
speed, Pandora caught it an inch from the ground. She set the orb back in its
place and stared at Draco with her head tilted slightly to the side. 
“Interesting.”
“What?” he snapped, wrapping his arms tightly over his stomach once more. His
hair hung in damp strands around his face. Sweat rolled down his temples and
his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his chest.
“You spoke the prophecy the way a seer would, likely due to your hemopath
abilities,” Pandora explained. Her head cocked slightly to the other side.
“More importantly, this orb hasn’t gone dark. That means this prophecy has not
been fulfilled. It speaks only of Harry’s or the Dark Lord’s death. That means
the Dark Lord isn’t dead.”
Draco let it sink in for a moment that Pandora now knew that Voldemort would be
back. He tried to calculate how bad that was.
“I do not think the Dark Lord is possessing Harry,” she continued, oblivious to
Draco’s nearing hi breaking point. “There is no sentience in the Black. No, I’m
still convinced it is a piece of magical core. If I am correct, we must somehow
detach it before the Dark Lord returns. He will do whatever it takes to get it
back.”
“And that bothers you?” he asked, sneering hatefully.
Large blue eyes looked at him with surprise. “Of course it does, Draco. I do
not support mad Black wizards. They destroy too much.” She spun, her braid
lashing the air. “Come. You need to get home and rest.”
Exhausted, he didn’t bother pointing out she had destroyed plenty in that
barren white room. He knew people like her would never understand how terrible
their actions were. So he followed her silently. He wanted out of here. He
wanted Harry safe in his arms. Even with the bond wide open, he was still
afraid of what he’d find when he returned to the manor. Dead green eyes haunted
him. 
They left the Ministry the same way they had entered. Once they were outside,
Draco stood stiffly as Pandora grabbed him and Apparated them to the ward
boundary of the manor. Draco dropped to his knees and threw up, his stomach
convulsing in great heaves that had tears streaming down his face. Curled over
his middle, he lifted his head and looked at her through cold eyes.
Pandora stared back, measuring him. “I will forgo the Vow of Silence,” she
decided. “You’re magical core is unstable. Any further strain and your core
could be permanently damaged. Instead, I am going to count on your
practicality, Draco. If you reveal to anyone the secrets of the Department of
Mysteries, I will no longer lend you my assistance. Without me, there is no
hope of freeing Harry from the terrible core fused to his own.” 
“I’ll keep your secrets,” Draco spat. 
She gave a nod. “I’ll contact you as soon as I know more.” 
Draco watched her disappear. For a long minute he just rested, trying to get
his breath back. Eventually he climbed to his feet. Alone, he made his way
across the grounds. It had seemed so peaceful before but now he looked at the
world through bleak eyes. It was as if a depth of color had been removed. More
than once he fell, dizzy and sick, but he’d push himself up and continued on. 
Just as Pandora had promised, he reached the front door of the manor only an
hour after they had departed. Lucius and Narcissa were waiting in the foyer.
Narcissa gasped upon seeing him and immediately caught him in her arms. Draco
allowed it. It was either her embrace or falling on his face.
“What happened?” Lucius demanded in a furious hiss.
Draco looked up at him. His hair had dried and hung limp and messy. His face
looked grey; dark circles ringed his eyes. There was an emptiness in his gaze
that hadn’t been there before. Lucius’s hand tightened around his cane. He
wanted to hunt that woman down and make her bleed for what she’d wrought in his
son.
“She showed me what would happen if I tried to overpower the Black magic
attached to Harry’s core,” Draco answered numbly. “Let’s just say I’m not gonna
try it anytime soon.”
“You’re shivering!” Narcissa exclaimed, horrified. It was summer. There was no
reason for Draco to be so cold.
“It had to be done,” Draco snapped and pulled out of her arms. It had to be
done, right? “I’m going to bed. Please leave me alone for a while. Dobby!”
“Yes, Master?” Dobby asked, eyes wide as he appeared.
“Take me to bed,” Draco demanded tiredly. 
They immediately disappeared and landed right on the bed. Draco’s legs gave out
and he fell face first onto his pillows. 
“Draco!” Harry’s warm hands gripped his shoulders and rolled him over - worry
love.
Draco stared up into his boy’s face. The green eyes behind round black glasses
were filled with recognition and intelligence. Tears filling his own, he
reached up to bury his hands in that wild dark hair. “Harry…” he whispered
brokenly.
Harry’s expression softened and he leaned down to kiss him. Pulling back, he
tilted his head into Draco’s touch. “Love you, Draco. Let me?”
Draco gave a nod of permission and then Harry was kissing his face gently with
soft butterfly kisses. The boy took hold of his clothes and worked them off
Draco’s limp body, kissing any pale skin he could reach. Arms, chest, hips,
legs - Harry’s lips and hands graced them all, worshiping Draco’s skin.  -
lovelovelovelove - radiated through the bond, filling Draco with the sweetest
warmth. 
Slowly Draco’s shaking stopped and he reached out, grabbing a fistful of
Harry’s hair. Harry obeyed his tug and settled on top of him, naked skin to
naked skin. Pulling their mouths together, Draco kissed him. Hot and wet, he
pressed his tongue into Harry’s mouth, making him moan. Draco reached down with
his free hand and gripped Harry’s hip, rocking against the boy’s soft body.
They were both stiff now and sensitive. Rubbing together shot shivers and
tingling pleasure through their skin.
Even having the warmth and pleasure of his boy in his arms, Draco didn’t think
he’d ever feel clean again. The image of Harry - broken, dead, discarded -
wouldn't leave him. * Heal me, Harry, *he begged.
Harry gasped. Draco needed him! Draco wanted him!- LOVE joy - 
Closing his eyes, head flung back, Harry arched his chest up off Draco’s,
pressing their groins harder together. Draco groaned under him, his panting
breaths all Harry could hear. Reaching deep inside, he offered all he had,
wanted with all he was to heal his Draco, make him whole, protect him from his
hurts. Deep inside, Harry felt it. The heat that lived there just for Draco. It
rose up and filled him. 
When Harry opened his eyes, there was a soft glow to them. Draco watched with a
dazed expression as his boy rocked slowly on top of him, making them both gasp
and groan. Draco stared in wonder; it almost seemed like golden sparks
glittered around Harry’s messy hair, forming a there-and-gone-again halo. Harry
was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, lovely and selfless and full
of unconditional love.
Hot tears spilled down Draco’s cheeks as Harry’s warm magic filled him like the
ocean tide. Washing through him with something like sunshine and then
retreating with a gentle caress only to push powerfully forward again, filling
him completely. Draco’s core reacted to that familiar, loving touch, rising to
meet Harry with every push-pull, locking together and spiraling. 
Every hurt, every fear, every raw spot cooled, soothed. Draco writhed with
pleasure, calling Harry’s name. Harry trembled above him, caught in the spell
of their magic. His head was flung back, face radiant and suffused with
pleasure, lips parted as he gasped and moaned. He clutched at the hands Draco
held out to him, needing them to keep his balance as he rocked his hips against
Draco’s faster until the pleasure burst over them, hot and electric.
Throbbing, sweat cooling on his skin, Draco smiled as gentle fingertips grazed
his cheeks, wiping his tears away. The sweet, contented hum of the bond nearly
lulled him to sleep. Cracking his eyes open he turned his head to check on his
boy. 
Harry lay next to him, his face close, watching him with a look of utter
devotion. Draco melted inside. It seemed impossible that the love he felt for
this boy could be contained in his small body. Turning onto his side, he
dropped an arm over Harry’s waist and pulled the boy even closer so that Draco
could feel his every soft exhale against his throat.
* Thank you, Harry. You’re such a good boy, *he praised, caressing the boy’s
mind with his words. He could feel Harry blush hotly against his skin and
smiled.
“Yours,” Harry murmured - peace contentment LOVE.
“Mine,” he answered back, a promise, and held him tight. * You’re mine. *
… 
Lucius and Narcissa sat in silent tension as they waited to see if the boys
would come down for breakfast. They had missed dinner the previous night and
they were both concerned about Draco’s condition. So when they heard the scuff
of shoes outside the dinning room, they held their breath, not sure what to
expect.
At first, nothing seemed too different. Draco led Harry by the hand, wearing
his normal t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Harry followed, wearing his day
uniform: dress shoes, white socks, and a white button-down shirt tucked into
blue shorts. However, Harry’s head was up instead of ducked shyly and seemed
more focused and aware of the room, measuring both Lucius and Narcissa
carefully as they sat. Draco seemed more subdued and faded. He still seemed a
bit pale and circles still ringed his eyes faintly. 
Belatedly, Narcissa greeted them, offering her usual, “Good morning, Draco,
Harry.” 
“Good morning, Narcissa,” Harry answered politely. “Good morning, Lucius.”
Draco said nothing.
Lucius shared a look with his wife, just a casual glance to anyone watching
from the outside, but they knew each other well and that look spoke volumes of
their worry. 
It was Harry who prepared the plates once Lottie brought in the morning dishes.
He handed Draco his serving first and waited for the blond to take a bite
before he began to eat. His attention remained focused on Draco through the
entire meal. Narcissa didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.
When Draco finished, Lucius cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “We can
reschedule with Ms. Skeeter.”
Draco shook his head, speaking for the first time. “I forgot.” He frowned and
glanced at Harry who looked back calmly. After a short moment, he turned to
Lucius. “No. I’m fine to do it today. The longer we wait the worse it will be.”
Lucius considered insisting, but Draco was right. At least his son’s eyes were
clear and direct, his voice firm. Harry’s green eyes pierced into him. It was
such a rare occurrence that it made Lucius pause, but he couldn’t decipher the
expression on the boy’s face. “Go get changed, then,” he finally said. He
waited for Harry to frown or nod, but the boy merely continued to look at him,
watching. “Ms. Skeeter will be here shortly.”
Draco nodded and led Harry from the room.
Narcissa looked to her husband. “Lucius.”
“I know, Cissa. I know.” He’d be careful. If Draco looked to be under any
amount of stress, he’d intervene and send Skeeter on her way. 
… 
Draco chose the outfit he’d worn to the French restaurant: dark blue jacket
with three-quarter sleeves and red cuffs, grey sweater with a low neck, white
button up, red tie, knee-length black shorts, black ankle socks and black dress
shoes. It didn’t take much thought. He just walked into the closet, grabbed his
clothes, and flung them on the bed to get dressed. He felt calm, like
everything was frozen in place - an eerie stillness. Even Harry’s emotions
through the bond seemed muffled. However, the fog cleared a bit when he saw
Harry step from the closet.
Harry had chosen the Malfoy-blue outfit, as Draco thought of it. It was the one
with the royal blue long-sleeved day-coat. Three small silver buttons decorated
the cuff with two silk black bans that accentuated Harry’s thin wrists. The
coat folded open halfway down the chest, revealing a white button-up underneath
with a pale blue, thin bowtie around his throat, hiding the black collar from
view. Two rows of large silver buttons ran down his chest to his waist where
the coat flared slightly, stopping at the tops of Harry’s thighs. The look
echoed a skirt, but the matching royal blue shorts coming from the bottom
softened that effect. In the back, cinching the waist tight, was a large black
bow made of silk. Knee-high black silk socks and black-toed white ankle boots
with black laces and two-inch heels were on his feet.
Draco smiled warmly, taking the boy into his arms, amused they were now the
same height. “You look perfect.” He kissed his cheek.
Harry blushed and smiled back - happy.
Holding his hand out to his boy, Draco felt a little less numb and a little
more awake. “Let’s do this.”
“Yes, Draco.” Harry took his hand easily and followed him from the room,
protective love- softly filling the bond.
…
Lucius left his family and ward in the sitting room as he leaned on his cane
and waited for Rita to cross the half-mile difference to their front door. He’d
been glad to see a bit more life in Draco’s expression and had given Harry a
nod of approval for wearing blue. Narcissa, of course, had smiled warmly at
Harry and told the boy how smart he looked, causing the boy to blush. There was
still a little bit of steel in the boy’s spine, which was also all to the good.
Finally, the knock came, and he waved the door open, a polite smile fixed to
his face. He hadn’t kept in close contact with Rita since Hogwarts. He’d had no
real use of a gossip columnist since the end of the first war, but he’d always
been careful to send her holiday greetings and been cordial when he’d run into
her in public. He’d saved her goodwill for a time such as this, and he planned
to make good use of it.
Rita gave him a smile, still wearing her seemingly favorite bright red
lipstick, and offered her hand with her pointed nails painted a matching blood
red. She wore a fashionable skirt-suit, her curls in an artfully messy up-do.
The jacket was burnt orange and came to two long points in the front and a
short ruffle in the back. The skirt was dark black and tight around her legs,
falling to mid-calf. Dark purple glasses sat on her nose, attached to a black
beaded chain that hung around her neck. Altogether it should have been hideous,
but instead she pulled it off as high-fashion. 
“Thank you for coming, Rita,” Lucius said charmingly, bending over her hand. He
didn’t kiss her skin. Poisons could be coated there. She had been in Slytherin
just as he had.
She batted her lashes at him. “It’s a pleasure, of course, Lucius. It’s been
too long since we’ve seen each other.”
“I wish it were under more auspicious circumstances.” Lucius gave her a nobly
suffering look. “It’s a shame what the media has stooped to. Exploiting
children. Shameful.”
“Absolutely,” Rita gushed, pressing a hand to her chest and giving him a most
sympathetic look.
Lucius nodded his head and gestured down the hall. “The sitting room is this
way, if you’d be so kind.”
Rita made complimentary comments about the manor as they walked. As soon as
they entered the room, Narcissa stood and offered her hands. The boys stood to
one side of her, waiting patiently for their turn. Releasing Narcissa, Rita
turned to them with a large smile.
“Mr. Potter, Young Mr. Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
First Draco and then Harry shook her hand. “Nice to meet you,” they echoed each
other - Draco with a cool smile, Harry with a blush.
Lucius came forward and gestured Rita to a seat. She sat in the indicated
armchair and Narcissa returned to her place on the couch, the boys sitting next
to her. Lucius stood by his wife, resting his hip against the side.
“Would you care for a refreshment?” Narcissa asked politely. “Our elf will be
able to supply you with anything you need.”
“That is very kind of you. I’d love a cup of tea.” Rita reached inside the
leather bag she’d brought and took out parchment charmed to lay stiff and flat
when opened and a very large feather quill. She positioned them on her lap so
that they’d be ready when she needed them.
Lottie came and Narcissa gave her orders. While they waited, Rita’s attention
turned to Harry.
“That is a very lovely outfit, Mr. Potter. May I ask where you purchased it?”
“Oh, it’s a Trancy original. We took a weekend in Paris not long ago and picked
up a few things,” Narcissa answered for him. Her cool smile showed she approved
of the clothes, but that she wasn’t so impressed. Instead she gave off the air
that they were nearly common. “As is Draco’s attire.”
Rita’s eyes widened. “I’d love a few photographs at the end?” she asked, unable
to completely mask her excitement.
“Of course,” Lucius agreed. “If the boy’s aren’t too tired. Interviews can be
stressful,” he added, subtly hinting that she wouldn’t get anything unless this
went the way he wanted.
She smiled, showing her teeth. She heard the warning loud and clear. “Of
course. It’s terrible that such a joyous time must be polluted with such
difficulties.”
Lottie returned, serving their drinks and setting out a few cookies and
scones. 
“This is lovely, thank you.” Rita directed this compliment toward Narcissa, not
the elf, and Narcissa accepted it with a graceful nod of her head.
“I am hopeful that this interview will put such ugliness behind us,” Lucius
spoke once first sips were had. “Cuffe blatantly disregarded my ward’s right to
privacy and implied Mr. Potter was unsafe within these walls. Not only did he
insult my honor, he willfully disregarded the fact that I was cleared of any
criminal charges by Ministry and have done nothing but support the community as
Head of the Malfoy House since.”
Rita held her cup in one hand and wrote a few notes with the quill in her
other. She nodded her head agreeably. “I understand your frustration.”
“I’ve received multiple death threats and other nasty messages since that
unfortunate article,” Lucius continued. He gave her a frown and shake of the
head, as if he couldn’t believe what other people would stoop to.
Rita made a noise of sympathy.
“We wish you to clear our good name and tell the world that Harry is safe and
prospers under our care,” he concluded.
“He certainly looks well cared for,” she agreed, eyeing his very expensive,
very exclusive clothes. “Well, Harry. May I call you Harry? What would you like
to tell the world about the Malfoys?”
Harry gave her smile that had a slight nervous cast. “They’re good to take me
in.”
“I see.” She wrote that down dutifully. “You were adopted by them because of
the twin bond with Draco, correct?”
“Yes,” Draco answered for him, short and to the point.
Her eyebrow lifted, but she did turn her attention to Draco. “How did you two
meet, if I may ask? It’s quite the story. You were missing for so many years
and suddenly returned with the Boy-Who-Lived in tow.”
“We were both kidnapped but by different people. Somehow we found each other in
New York.” Draco glanced at Harry, soothed by the - trust - in the green eyes
gazing back at him. “It was like we were drawn together. People tell us that it
should’ve taken time, but it began the moment we met.”
Rita wrote quickly, barely glancing at her paper, her eyes glued to the boys. 
“I don’t know where I’d be without Harry,” Draco said honestly, looking back at
Rita.
“Draco takes care of me,” Harry spoke up, voice surprisingly strong, looking
Rita dead in her eyes.
Draco smiled and took Harry’s hand. “And Harry takes care of me. Honestly,
everything else comes second.”
“How long has the bond been in place?” she asked with interest.
Draco looked to Lucius, knowing he’d have a better concept of dates from their
medical records. Things like that didn’t really matter to him.
“The Asclepius in America dated the bond as forming at the end of 1985, so it’s
a few months shy of being two years old,” Lucius supplied. “Our personal
healer, Master-Healer Iason Greengrass, confirms that date.”
“I see. Yet you only recently returned to your parents, Draco,” Rita pointed
out. “Why did it take so long?”
Draco shrugged. “I didn’t know about the Wizarding world.”
Rita’s eyes widened and looked to Harry curiously. “It’s my understanding that
you were with your previous guardians until two years ago. Surely you were
informed about the Wizarding world?”
“I’m sorry, Rita,” Lucius cut in. He put a reassuring hand on Narcissa’s
shoulder, stilling her frown. “He can’t talk about his previous guardians with
an investigation is ongoing. I’m sure you understand. Suffice it to say, Harry
was unaware of the Wizarding world until his return to us.”
“I apologize,” she gave in, a hint of regret in her eyes. “So you were already
in New York, Draco?”
Draco sighed softly, knowing the woman would pick and pry until she had what
she wanted. He met her eyes in that way he had that unsettled so many adults.
“From what we can tell, I was taken straight from here August 15th, 1981, to
New York, to keep me hidden from my parents, I guess. I lived in an orphanage
for a few years. I was taken care of there, but there was a fire and it burned
down.”
“How terrible!” Rita cried all fake sympathy. She was loving every minute of
it. Her pen practically flew across the page. “And then what happened?”
“It was chaos after the fire and someone took me right off the street. I was
held by the kidnappers for a year before Harry and I met.”
“What did they want you for?” she asked, hushed and eager.
Draco shrugged, feigning boredom. “Mostly as an errand boy. I was given jobs to
do and stuff. I can’t really go into detail about it, but basically I was free
labor.”
Her eyes narrowed as thoughts and scenarios flew through her mind, but a
warning look from Lucius kept her mouth shut.
“Harry came to the same place I was coincidentally. He was going to be adopted
by a family on the Muggle black-market, but that fell through. I couldn’t
escape before, but now that we had each other, we managed to run away. We lived
on our own for almost a year before a wizard on vacation recognized Harry. Then
my parents were called and Harry’s magical guardian. Now we alternate between
their houses every month.”
“Sounds busy,” Rita murmured, looking at Lucius questioningly. All of this was
an amazing story and hard to believe. There was clearly a lot being unsaid and
that made her instincts practically burn, but she knew better than to push and
get kicked out now.
“It’s a Black solution regarding a joint-custody,” Narcissa informed her. She
lifted her hand to affectionately stroke Draco’s hair once. “It gives the child
an equally strong foothold in the traditions of both parents.”
“We learn a lot with Andromeda and still have access to Muggle London,” Draco
explained. Lucius and he had talked about this earlier. It would be good to
emphasize that Harry wasn’t being poisoned by a Dark family. It would also make
the Malfoy family seem less threatening by the fact that they allowed it. “We
grew up there, so it’s familiar.”
“That is not something we could give him,” Lucius acknowledged. “I am not
convinced of the benefit of having such knowledge, but it is part of Harry’s
heritage and I respect my son’s bond.”
Rita’s eyes were wide behind her glasses as she scribbled furiously on her
paper. “You clearly care very much about both boys. Cuffe seems to have been
very mistaken indeed.”
“Draco and Harry’s wellbeing are my top priority,” Narcissa said calmly, voice
going cold, her blue eyes flashing with warning. “I am very offended that
anyone would think differently. I am a Malfoy, but I am also a mother.”
Rita lifted her eyebrow. “They are very fortunate to have such loving parents.”
“Would you care to see our horses?” Harry asked, innocent and sweet.
“I’d love to, and I’d love a tour if it’s available?” She gave Lucius her most
winning smile. “Malfoy Manor is such a mystery. My readers would love photos of
such a historic house.”
“I think something can be arranged,” Lucius answered, amused at her unending
ambition.
“This is such a lovely room.” Rita took out her camera. “May I take a photo
with you sitting just like that? I will give you copies of any photographs I
take.” 
Lucius and Narcissa shared a quick look before Lucius agreed. He stood straight
and tall, his hair tied back, wearing a dark blue day-jacket nearly the exact
same shade as Harry’s and black slacks. He made sure he was holding his cane
just right so the gleaming silver head could be seen. Narcissa sat next to
where he stood in a simple ivory summer dress, her hair up in an intricate
coil. Draco was at her side and Harry sat next to him. They gave the camera
their polite smiles and Rita spun the dial for ten seconds, taking the photo.
She continued to take pictures as Lucius took her on a limited tour of the
manor, allowing her to see the areas where they entertained. She was nearly
overwhelmed at the history, art, and gorgeous architecture by the time she was
led outside. They found Narcissa sitting in the shade on a bench in he garden.
The boys were a bit further off on the grounds and petting their stallions.
Rita quickly asked for permission, eyes wide at the picturesque scene, and
Lucius gave it. Rita used the zoom and took several pictures of the boys with
the horses. She also took a few of Lucius and Narcissa in the garden, treating
them all like celebrities, which is just as it should be in Lucius’s opinion.
Eventually, Rita departed, promising to work on the article and send it over to
Lucius for final review and permission to turn it in to her editor at Witch
Weekly. Of course, there was no doubt that it would pass through. An exclusive
featuring Draco and Harry would sell faster than they could print it. In fact,
Rita had stars in her eyes, knowing she’d be the writer of the most read Witch
Weekly article the magazine had ever produced. 
Chapter end.
 
 
***** Interlude III *****
A/N: I hope you feel better, Babyvfan!
Interlude III
Just as Rita had predicted, Witch Weekly sold out within hours of its delivery
to stores and a flood of requests for the issue bombarded the office. On the
glossy cover was a photo of an elegant sitting room. In the background stood
three thin, tall windows with six rectangular panes of the clearest glass,
filling the room with light and showing a hint of vibrant summer greenery. The
room itself was spacious with cream wallpaper that had a delicate lace pattern
done in thin ruby lines. A peaches and cream rug with a pattern woven with thin
red thread could be seen placed over a pale-gold wooden floor. To one side of
the photograph, one could make out a peach colored armchair with delicately
curving legs and an ornate side table with a crystal vase of purple-blue
hyacinths. While on the other side, there was the corner of a wooden mantle
with subtly and beautifully etched vines. 
All of this beauty faded into the background, as the eye was captivated by the
photo’s centerpiece. Sitting on a plush, dimpled ivory couch with slender legs
and four rounded tops sat two slender boys dressed in fine jackets and shorts.
One in in royal blue, the other in dark blue-black and grey, they were holding
hands. The brunet with dark, messy hair and black glasses had a faint blush and
would glance at the blond occasionally in-between smiling sweetly at the
camera. The blond, in contrast, looked cool and composed, his smile more of a
smirk. His nearly shoulder-length hair framed his face on one side and sat
tucked behind his ear on the other. His spectacular grey eyes never left the
camera. 
Next to them, leaning against the far left arm of the couch, sat a woman
dressed in a floor-length white silk dress that had a lace ruffle draped over
her chest. Lace sleeves accentuated her pale porcelain skin and fell just short
of her elbows. She held her head at a slight angle, her chin and long throat
creating an elegant line. With golden hair piled in neat coils and pinned in
place with pearl hair combs, she looked like royalty with cool blue eyes and a
Mona Lisa smile. She turned her head only once, to grace the children beside
her with a warm look before facing center once more.
Next to her was her perfect match. The man stood tall and fit in a perfectly
tailored day jacket that was short in the front and long in the back. His pale
hair was pulled back away from his face and shoulders, tied at the nape of his
neck. He had a stern expression and a direct stare that mirrored the blond
child's. In his hands, a gleaming silver-headed cane rested comfortably. 
The magazine title was emblazoned in golden ink along the top in elegant
cursive while articles and stories were advertised along the sides, but the one
that drew the most attention was the promise of a five page spread on the
Malfoy family. Immediately witches and wizards flipped to the centerfold and
avidly read the title of the article written in big cursive letters: Draco
Malfoy and Harry Potter: Wizarding Royalty. 
There was a smaller photo on the left side of the page of the two boys standing
with gorgeous white horses on a grassy lawn, dark trees off in the distance
behind them with a blue summer sky above. The boys weren’t looking into the
camera, instead they were focused on the beautiful animals. They stood sideways
facing each other with the horses in-between. A big black bow could be see on
the back of the brunet’s jacket, his green eyes bright and happy as the
stallion nuzzled his cheek. The blond had a calmer air, stroking the horse’s
nose, his smile showing bright teeth. 
Other photographs were scattered throughout the five page article: photographs
of Lucius and Narcissa standing in a garden, of the public rooms in the manor,
and of the grounds. The article began, the words typed neatly next to and
around each photograph: 
This past weekend, I was blessed to be invited into the Ancient and Noble House
of Malfoy. For the first time in over a century, a journalist was invited
within the august and ancient halls.
“I am hopeful that this interview will put such ugliness behind us… Not only
did (Barnabas Cuffe, former Daily Prophet journalist) insult my honor, he
willfully disregarded the fact that I was cleared of any criminal charges by
the Ministry and have done nothing but support the community…” Lord Malfoy
explained with quiet pride in his eyes.
After careful investigation, this columnist did confirm that many charities,
Ministry projects, and our lovely Hogwarts school has benefited from Lord
Malfoy’s generosity. On top of which, he suffered during the war as we all did,
losing his one and only son. Cuffe’s baseless accusations were offensive and
the violation of Mr. Potter’s privacy was illegal. 
Lady Malfoy had this to say regarding the matter:“Draco and Harry’s wellbeing
are my top priority. I am very offended that anyone would think differently. I
am a Malfoy, but I am also a mother.”
Lord Malfoy went on to admit:“I’ve received multiple death threats and other
nasty messages since that unfortunate article. We wish to clear our good name
and tell the world that Harry is safe and prospers under our care.”
It is my humble privilege to be able to bring the unvarnished truth to my
readers.
Upon my arrival, I was in awe of the manor and grounds. Secure and powerful
wards prevented me from approaching closer than a half-mile until Lord Malfoy
accepted me. The walk was long but picturesque. Green hills, a lake, and a
good-sized wood make up the property. The austere manor seemed to rise from the
very ground on my approach, and once past the tall forbidden gates and a second
set of wards, I stood amid soft lawns and beautiful gardens. 
Lord Malfoy greeted me in a marbled foyer and led me personally to a sitting
room (featured on the cover) off to the right. Beautiful art and statuary
decorated the halls. Lady Malfoy politely offered tea and biscuits and
introduced the boys. They were very composed children and politely shook my
hand. When I asked young Mr. Potter what he thought about the situation, he had
this to say:
“(The Malfoys) are good to take me in.”
Indeed, Mr. Potter looked healthy and well-kept. His attire was very trendy,
complete with jacket, shorts, knee-high silk socks and white dress shoes with a
two-inch heel. 
Lady Malfoy informed me:“It’s a Trancy original. We took a weekend in Paris not
long ago and picked up a few things. As is Draco’s attire.”
Young Mr. Malfoy did indeed look splendid. Out of curiosity, I contacted the
legendary French designer and asked him to give an average cost for one of his
outfits. “Head to toe, around one hundred and twenty-nine galleons,” Mr. Trancy
reported. According to the Ministry, it would take the average witch or wizard
two weeks time to earn a single Trancy outfit. 
In addition to fine clothes and cultural experiences abroad, Lady Malfoy
informed me the boys’ daily schedule was very structured. 
“They have lessons in writing and maths in the morning, then lunch, and either
dancing or riding in the afternoons, followed by some leisure time before
dinner.”
I had learned of nothing that seemed threatening to our Mr. Potter. When asked
about his safety, Mr. Potter assured me very earnestly:
“Draco takes care of me.”
Young Mr. Malfoy added to this with a smile: “And Harry takes care of me.
Honestly, everything else comes second.”
Their bond was very real and very apparent during the visit. Young Mr. Malfoy
put it best when asked about the rare magical twin bond between them.
“It was like we were drawn together. People tell us that (the bond) should’ve
taken time, but it began the moment we met. I don’t know where I’d be without
Harry.”
According to both an Asclepius in America and a Greengrass Master-Healer, the
twin-bond was formed at the end of ’85 and is nearly two years old. It is this
bond that renders the boys inseparable and makes the co-guardianship between
the Malfoys and Mr. Potter’s guardian necessary. The boys alternate between the
two families every other month. 
Lady Malfoy explained: “It’s a Black solution regarding a joint-custody. It
gives the child an equally strong foothold in the traditions of both parents.”
It was surprising to hear that equality mattered when they are sharing their
son with Mr. Potter’s guardian who is married to a Muggleborn and lives in the
Muggle world. The Malfoys conservative stance on the separation between the
magical and Muggle community is well known. 
Lord Malfoy informed me: “(Access to the Muggle world) is not something we
could give him. I am not convinced of the benefit of having such knowledge, but
it is part of Harry’s heritage and I respect my son’s bond.”
Young Mr. Malfoy added: “We learn a lot with Andromeda and still have access to
Muggle London. We grew up there, so it’s familiar.”
It is apparent that the Malfoys care enough about Mr. Potter to arrange it so
that he has a connection to his mother’s culture in spite of their political
views regarding the matter. Additionally, their son, who unfortunately grew up
away from his family, still has a connection to that world. While they do not
approve, Lord and Lady Malfoy acknowledge their son’s past.
“You were very vague during the press conference regarding Mr. Malfoy’s
disappearance,”I gently pointed out to the protective family.“Are you willing
to tell the story now?” 
I was surprised when it was Mr. Malfoy himself who told his story. He spoke in
a very direct manner, showing maturity beyond his seven years.
“I was taken straight from here August 15th, 1981, to New York to keep me
hidden from my parents, I guess. I lived in an orphanage for a few years. I was
taken care of there, but there was a fire and it burned down. It was chaos
after the fire and someone took me right off the street. I was held by the
kidnappers for a year before Harry and I met. Harry was going to be adopted by
a family on the Muggle black-market, but that fell through so he was brought
where I was. I couldn’t escape before, but now that we had each other, we
managed to run away. We lived on our own for almost a year before a wizard on
vacation recognized Harry.”
It was this vacationing wizard who earned the Malfoy reward for young Mr.
Malfoy’s return, and who, according to Lord Malfoy, still wishes to remain
anonymous. When asked what Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter ran away from, young Mr.
Malfoy said this.
“(I was) mostly an errand boy. I was given jobs to do and stuff. I can’t really
go into detail about it, but basically I was free labor.”
It was clearly a difficult life that no child should have to experience: stolen
from his brith family, taken off the street and forced to work - Mr. Potter’s
story must be equally tragic. The Malfoys refrained from comment, explaining
that Mr. Potter’s situation was still under investigation. 
The Malfoys should be celebrated not attacked for embracing their son’s magical
twin. It was due to the boys’ fateful meeting and the formation of their twin-
bond that allowed them to escape their dark circumstances and eventually return
to us. Understanding this, Lord and Lady Malfoy treat both boys equally by
providing them with a high-class education, wealth beyond any child’s dreams,
and the best possible medical care. 
Young Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter are being raised as princes, and it is my
humble opinion that no children deserve it more after such tragic beginnings.
Anyone who would try to deny Mr. Potter such a life or who would question the
boys’ rare and powerful bond should be ashamed of their willful ignorance.
Written by: Rita Skeeter
… 
Dumbledore sat back in his padded chair behind his messy desk and began to
chuckle. Slowly his laughter built until it filled the room and bounced off the
walls. Witch Weekly fell from his limp fingers and slid off his lap to plop on
the floor. Startled, Fawkes ruffled his feathers and trilled, head tilted
nearly upside down questioningly. 
Several minutes passed before Dumbledore managed to rein his laughter in. He
bent, still chuckling lightly, and picked up the magazine. He looked again at
the glossy and gorgeous pictures and shook his head in bemusement. Rita had
outdone herself this time. Witches and wizards the country over would fantasize
about the little princes, high society would scramble to try and match the
images therein, and Trancy would never be more busy in his life.
More importantly, anyone who knew of Lucius’s dark connections could not now
question his guardianship of Harry. Should they try to do so they’d be smeared
and marked as prejudiced and evil themselves. Lucius had just raised himself
and his family to royal status just as the article proclaimed, and if
Dumbledore knew Lucius at all, the man would use the public’s blind good will
to cover a whole host of sins. It was honestly a masterpiece.
“Well played, Lucius. Well played,” he murmured as he set the magazine aside. 
He only hoped that in these next four years Harry would be protected from
Lucius’s true darkness and enjoy the benefits of living the life the article
portrayed. In the meantime, Dumbledore would be watchful. Harry was too
important to be compromised.
… 
Lucius set the magazine aside, eyes practically glowing with triumph. Narcissa
gazed back at him with heat in her eyes. She watched him stand and stride
toward her. She was jerked to her feet with a sharp, controlled movement. Their
mouths crashed together, tongues battling. Lucius bent and swept her into his
arms, never breaking the kiss. 
Narcissa’s heart pounded fiercely. She hardly noticed the transition to the
bedroom. All she knew was one minute she was in his arms, kissing the life out
of him, the next she was being dropped on the bed, her hair tumbling free and
falling around her. She watched hungrily, mouth swollen, panting, as he began
to strip - first his jacket, then his undershirt, finally his pants. A spell
banished her dress to the floor. 
Her body arched up against his, opening to him as he thrust inside, and she
gave a wanton cry that he answered with a growl.
… 
Andromeda stood beside her husband who sat at the table reading. Impatiently,
she waited for him to finish. It seemed to take ages. When he still didn’t say
anything after finally closing the magazine, she demanded, “Well?”
“I think it doesn’t have anything to do with us,” Ted answered calmly. He took
her hand and tugged her gently into his lap. Holding her, he said reasonably,
“Lucius has a bad reputation. It makes sense he’d make a move to counter it. He
always did care about social and political power.”
“We’ve already thirteen requests to give an interview,” she huffed. “They
should have discussed giving an interview with me first. Or warned me at
least!”
“True.” Ted nuzzled her neck. “I don’t think doing one is a good idea. The boys
are going to be even more sought after. They’ll need a place where they can get
away. Fame is so artificial and temporary. We can provide them with something
freer, truer, if we stay away from all that.”
Andromeda said nothing, tears suddenly stinging her eyes. 
“Dromeda,” he said gently, turning her so he could see her face. “You can do
this. You’ve done it before.”
She shook her head helplessly. “It’s not like blood purity, Teddy. I always did
think there was something off about that. Two boys together just isn’t natural.
How can they even stand it after…” She couldn’t say it. What grown men had done
to those boys was unspeakable.
Humming, he pulled her long, soft brown hair into a low ponytail. “They can
stand it because it’s not the same. If it were remotely similar to what
happened to them, they’d never even conceive of it.” Ted kissed her check.
“What they have between them is love, Dromeda. As simple and complex as that,
and love is so far removed from what happened to them. They saved each other.
Sanity, hope, a future… They only have those things because of each other.
They’d trust their bodies to no one else.”  
Smiling tearfully, she dropped her arms around his neck. “It sounds beautiful
when you say it, and it seems innocent now when they are young, but they will
grow to be men. Together.” She just couldn’t wrap her mind around it.
He sighed and pulled her against his chest in a sheltering embrace. “Give it
time, Dromeda. You’ll see what I see.”
It was a long standing promise between them. She remembered sitting across the
library table from him at Hogwarts. They’d have heated debates about the merits
of blood purity, sexism, Wizarding tradition, Muggle culture, religion - things
most people shied away from talking about. Whenever they’d come to a
standstill, he’d give her an irrepressible grin and say, “Just give it time.
You’ll see what I see.” And she always did, in time. 
His vision was so enlightened, artistic and beautiful. It shone with higher
truth, and she always saw it in the end. She only hoped his vision would ring
true once more because she loved those boys. She loved them both more than she
had ever expected to. She hadn’t realized there was space in her home, in her
family, until those two had slotted in, completing them, and she knew if she
didn’t come to terms with the truth of their relationship, she’d lose them
forever.
… 
Tonks shook her head as her classmates crowded around her, demanding to know if
she’d ever been to Malfoy Manor, and was it just like it was in the photos, and
was Draco as regal as he seemed in the pictures, and was Harry as cute, and
could she give them their letters, invitations, gifts… 
She just smiled mysteriously the way her mother had taught her. In time, she
knew they’d grow bored or angry at her lack of response and leave her alone. In
time, they’d learn that she wouldn’t humor questions or requests regarding her
brothers. So, for now, she smiled mysteriously, saying nothing at all.
… 
Remus smiled as he read the article. It seemed like such a nice fantasy - rags
to riches, slaves to princes. His smile didn’t last long, however. He still
remembered the cold atmosphere when he’d met Lucius and accepted his reward; he
remembered the tension between Draco and his father. Remus couldn’t help
worrying. Draco had assured him that things were getting better at the manor
and this article certainly painted a pretty picture. Still, he couldn’t wait
for September to end. Draco and Harry would return to Andromeda for October and
Remus would be able to watch over them.
…
Pandora came home, still in the Unspeakable mindset. A high-pitched screech
cracked her mental barrier. She dropped her bag by the door and stepped out of
the small entranceway, turning into the living room. Her beloved Xeno had a
cape tied around his forehead and was chasing their daughter who shrieked and
swung clumsily at him with a broom handle. 
Spotting her, Xeno gave an unabashed smile and came around the couch, pulling
her into his arms. “Pan! Welcome home.”
“No! Run, Mummy! The snorkblast will get you!”
Pulling the cape from her husband’s head, Pandora smiled. “And what is the
adventure this time, my darlings?”
“I was protecting Prince Draco and Prince Harry from snorkblasts!” Luna cried
proudly and leapt from the couch. 
Xeno released Pandora and gave a quick lunge, catching his daughter before she
hurt herself. He laughed, spinning her around. 
“Papa told me that in some stories it’s the princess who rescues the prince, so
I wanted to practice!” Luna continued to explain, laughing.
“Papa is absolutely right,” Pandora said, coming forward and placing a calming
hand on her husband’s shoulder and her daughter’s head. “But a living room is
not meant for adventuring. Yes? A place for everything…”
“And everything in its place,” Luna and Xenophilus finished obediently. 
“Good. Now give me kisses and get cleaned up for bed,” she instructed her
daughter. 
Luna smacked her mum on the cheek and ran from the room, her long white braid
coming half undone and her dress a wrinkled, paint splattered mess.
Pandora sighed. “She’s a wild thing, Xeno. You need to try harder.”
“I know, Pan,” he admitted, voice gentle. He tugged her against him once more
and swayed from side to side, dancing to music only he could hear. “It’s just
she’s going to be grown so soon. I want to play while I still can.”
“A place for everything…” she said again, ruefully. “I’m sorry, Xeno. You’re
right.” She let him hold her a moment longer before pulling away. “I’m going to
go put her to bed.”
“Have fun,” he advised seriously.
She smiled, kissing his cheek, and turned to go up the stairs.
“Tell her a story about the princes. She’ll love it,” he added.
Laughing, she climbed the stairs. Xeno was correct. Luna sat perfectly still
and let her brush out her hair and re-braid it for bed without once trying to
get away as she spun a story where Prince Draco rescued Prince Harry from a
dark curse. 
“First, Prince Draco had to ford a sparkling, golden river and then call down
all the power of the deep woods. Every animal that hunts, every tree that had
captured lightning in its core, every poisonous leaf - all of it attacked the
dark curse until it broke and faded like smoke. Prince Harry was saved. Ever
after, the two princes sailed peacefully on the golden river and walked in the
deep woods together, holding hands.” 
“Is it okay there’s no princess in the story, Mum?” Luna asked, climbing under
covers and blinking her grey-blue eyes up at her mother.
Pandora gently placed a kiss on her forehead. “In some stories, yes. And in
some stories, the princess rescues the prince. In others, a princess will
rescues another princess.”
Luna smiled a sweet smile. “I like how many stories there are.”
“Me, too, darling. Now sleep and dream a new story that no one has ever heard
before,” Pandora said softly, watching as Luna’s eyes grew heavy and fell
closed. “They all begin the same, but after that anything can happen.”
“… once upon a time…” her daughter murmured, already half-asleep.
Smiling tenderly, Pandora rose and walked softly from the room, leaving her
daughter’s door cracked to let in a bar of light.
…
Severus stared at the bright pictures captured in Witch Weekly. It was almost
impossible to wrap his mind around the stark contrast of the boys’ dark inner
worlds and the images of light and elegance portrayed in the magazine. 
It was no wonder the boys’ sanity was so fragile. Only a child’s flexible and
resilient mind would be able to exist amid such contrasts without going insane.
His eyes were inevitably drawn to the green-eyed child in the picture with the
horses. The smile on that face seemed like a miracle. He traced it with his
fingertip, still aching from the dark past inside the boy’s mind. 
His eyes shifted to the blond. Seven-years-old and solely responsible for the
sanity and happiness of another soul. Severus couldn’t really imagine it. Such
a burden would lead full grown adults into resentfully lashing out. Much as
Severus had when he’d been a teenager. Somehow the burden didn’t seem to weigh
Draco down at all. In fact, Harry’s happiness was mirrored in Draco’s eyes. 
Severus had to admit, Draco was a remarkable kid. He still had a lot to learn
and would need help shouldering the responsibility he’d taken up, but that was
where Severus was determined to succeed. He wouldn’t fail this time. 
“I won’t let them die, Lily. I’ll protect and guide them as long as I’m able,”
he vowed. 
Closing the magazine, he went to his bookcase and slid it safely in between two
of his favorite potion journals.
Chapter end.
***** Playdate and Mabon *****
 
Playdates and Mabon
It had only been a week since the magazine had come out. They still hadn’t read
it. Draco had been in the interview after all. He knew what it would say.
Besides, the glowing faces of Lucius and Narcissa the day after it had arrived
said it all. Today they were going on a playdate to the Parkinson’s, and Draco
wondered if the magazine would change the way others would react to them.
They looked elegant yet casual as they walked the half mile to the ward
boundary. Harry wore a tan coat, a pale green vest and a dark green, wide silk
ribbon around his neck tied in a bow that hung downward. His black shorts fell
mid thigh and he wore knee high black silk socks and loafers. Draco wore a
white button-up, a royal blue vest, black pants, and his sneakers. 
Narcissa had argued about the shoes, but Draco compromised by allowing her to
trim his hair to his chin. She herself wore a floor-length white summer dress
with small blue flowers around the trim and bodice. Taking the boys’ hands, she
gave them a smile and Apparated. Upon arrival, she swayed, using Draco’s
shoulder to help her keep her feet. It had only been a little more than three
months since she had drained her magic dangerously low in the blood ritual to
look for Draco. She hadn’t cast a single spell since then, letting her core
recharge and recover. Side-Apparating both boys with her would have been
impossible over long distance, but the Parkinson’s home wasn’t far.
“Are you okay, Narcissa?” Harry asked worriedly, talking her other hand.
Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she patted her forehead. “I’m fine,
Harry. Thank you. Just a little dizzy.”
The boys waited patiently for her to recover, looking around curiously. 
They stood on the lawn of a house about a quarter the size of Malfoy Manor. It
had three floors, but it was taller than it was wide with only two windows on
either side of the front doors. It was beautiful though. Off-white with a
flowering vine that nearly covered the whole front of the house. It had lots of
windows, and wild flowers grew alongside the front walkway. 
When Narcissa felt more recovered, she led them through the open iron gates,
down the dirt drive, and up the three steps to the front door. It opened
immediately. A young woman welcomed them in. She had strawberry blond hair up
in a bun and wore a grey skirt that fell jus past the knee and a white blouse.
Her eyes widened upon seeing the boys and a slight blush rose to her cheeks.
“Welcome, Lady Malfoy. Madam Parkinson will attend you in the garden.”
Narcissa didn’t respond, merely inclined her head to signal she’d heard.
The garden was out the back. They transversed a long hallway with art on the
walls and elegant wallpaper. The back doors were glass and were left open,
revealing a beautiful scene of hills and wild flowers. There was a table for
nine set up to the side set with a linen table cloth and silverware. They were
ready for an elegant luncheon.
Mrs. Parkinson stood to greet them, wearing a lavender dress that fell to her
knees. She had a warm smile and excitement in her eyes as she took Narcissa’s
hands and kissed her cheek. “Narcissa, good of you to come.”
“Of course, Amaryllis.” Narcissa returned the kiss. She turned and smiled down
at the dark-haired little girl standing so politely at her mother’s side, her
cheeks rosy with a blush. “Good day, Miss Pansy. How are you?”
“Very well, Lady Narcissa. Thank you for asking,” Pansy piped and gave a
curtsy.
“Thank you for having us,” Harry responded, smiling sweetly. He gave her a
short bow.
Narcissa’s smile grew. She looked to the boys. “You may play while I catch up
with Mrs. Parkinson.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry answered.
Draco led Harry off by the hand, Pansy following without compliant. He could
see a hedge maze and he thought it would be fun to try it. The one at the manor
had become so familiar it hardly counted as a maze now.
“I like your dress,” Harry complimented.
Pansy’s whole face turned pink. “Thanks. Mum bought it special for today. You
look very nice, too.”
Harry blushed happily. “Thank you. Draco chose it.”
They walked silently for a time, figuring out the twists and turns of the maze
when they heard a kid call out from behind them. “Pansy! Where are you?”
Pansy must have recognized the voice for she yelled back, “Vincent, Gregory!
Over here!”
The two big blonds from Harry’s birthday party came around the corner. They had
dress shirts, pants, and vests on: one wore green, the other black. Harry
tensed and moved closer to Draco. 
Tightening his hand around his boy’s, Draco gave a fake grin. “Hey, Greg,
Vince. Nice to see ya again.”
The boys blinked at him for a moment before smiling. “Hiya, Draco,” Greg said
happily.  
“Want to play Hide and Seek?” Draco asked. He’d gotten a feel for the maze and
had found the center already. It wasn’t nearly as large as the one at the
manor.
“Okay,” Pansy agreed, although hesitantly. She’d rather talk some more.
“Harry and I will count first, okay? You got to stay in the maze,” Draco
ordered and began counting.
The two boys ran off. Pansy went in the opposite direction, giggling. 
“They won’t hurt you, you know,” Draco said, turning to Harry and stroking his
cheek gently.
Harry ducked his head - shame regret. “Sorry, Draco.”
Draco smiled and kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay. Come on. Let’s show
these kids how to win this game!”
Harry smiled faintly and followed him into the maze.
They must have played for over an hour before moving on to other things. Draco
had won every game, much to Pansy’s frustration. Harry had taken his jacket and
green ribbon off, leaving him in just his vest and short-sleeved white shirt.
He was smiling as he picked flowers with Pansy. Draco watched over him from his
position perched in a tree. Greg and Vince were busy trying to climb up next to
him. It took them a while, but eventually the two boys managed to get on a
branch, panting and sweating. 
“Great job,” he praised them and their faces lit up. Grey eyes watchful, he
asked, “You don’t get told that a lot, do you?”
Greg shook his head. “Nope. We’re dumb. Don’t do things right.”
Draco considered them thoughtfully. “You don’t understand some things, but
you’re more clever than people give you credit for.”
“Things… get… jumbled… sometimes,” Vince admitted quietly. He spoke slowly, but
his words were clear and to the point. Draco could bet not many people had the
patience to wait and listen for Vince to finish what he was trying to say, so
he’d ended up not talking very much at all. Greg was their mouthpiece.
Draco sat quietly, just enjoying the day and the other boys’ undemanding
presence. 
The woman in grey came looking for them not too much later, calling them to
lunch. 
“Who is she?” Draco asked as he began to climb down. 
Vince answered in his slow, clear way, happy that he’d met someone who wouldn’t
get impatient and cut him off. “Her name’s… Lucy. She’s the… Parkinson
servant.”
Jumping the last few feet, Draco brushed off his clothes. “What about House
Elves?”
“They’re expensive. And the family has to be strong to bind them to their
blood,” Greg answered as he jumped down next to Draco.
“You have… two, right?” Vince asked. He was scared to jump, so he was climbing
down more carefully than Draco or Greg. 
Draco shrugged. “Yeah.” 
Vince finally made it to the ground and smiled at the smaller blond. “That’s…
really… impress-ive.” 
Greg nodded his head.
“Boys! Come on!” Pansy demanded, further up the path, waving her arm. “Lunch is
ready!” 
Harry, in contrast, stood next to her patiently, hands folded in front of him,
his head slightly bowed forward.
Draco smiled at his boy, taking his hand.
Mrs. Goyle and Mrs. Crabbe were at the table along with Narcissa and Mrs.
Parkinson. There were chairs set next to each of them and the children took
them after receiving Refreshing Charms from Lucy to clean them of sweat and
cool them off. Harry was back in his day jacket, the wide ribbon tied neatly
around his throat, the two ends of the bow hanging elegantly.
Lunch was filled with polite small talk. Harry had warmed up to the bigger boys
by this point. He was set next to Greg and he quietly corrected him if he were
about to use the wrong fork or spoon. Draco did the same to Vince on the other
side of Narcissa. Mostly the women dominated the conversation, talking about
fashion, the weather, their kids and their hobbies. Pansy demonstrated her
singing skills, singing A Little Country Garden and earning their polite
applause. When Vince and Greg were prompted to tell about their hobbies, Mrs.
Crabbe answered for them, clearly not willing to wait through her son’s
plodding answer. and explained they were both good at swimming and horseback
riding. 
Mrs. Goyle agreed with a twitter. “Oh yes. My Gregory is very athletic.” She
turned her brown eyes to Draco and Harry, blushing and excited. “And what
activities interest you, young Malfoy, Mr. Potter?”
Draco had to think about it when he was asked what his hobbies were. Unlike
with Vincent, no one rushed him. Eventually he answered, “I find maths and
fencing to be the most enjoyable.”
“That’s very intelligent,” Ms. Parkinson gushed. “I’m sure you’ll make a fine
business man someday.”
Mrs. Crabbe and Mrs. Goyle echoed her.
“What about you, Harry?” Narcissa asked, noticing the boy looked a little wide-
eyed at the question.
“Oh, I’m grateful for everything you teach me,” Harry insisted, voice soft and
sweet as he looked up at her through his fringe.
The women cooed and twittered at this, but Draco wanted a more solid answer.
“But what do you think is the most fun?” he pressed.
Harry fidgeted for a moment, but when Draco mentally reminded him about his
public mask, he lifted his head up and met Narcissa’s eyes. Red-faced, he
admitted, “I like gardening and reading very much.”  
“Very nice!” Mrs. Parkinson approved. “You both have a physical hobby as well
as an intellectual one.”
Narcissa smiled proudly. 
Talk then moved to Hogwarts and Quidditch. Families were always welcome to pay
for a ticket to watch the Quidditch games at the school. Pansy’s older brother
was in his final year and played Chaser. Mrs. Parkinson invited Narcissa and
the boys to join her for the first game of the season during the second weekend
of November. Narcissa thanked her for the invitation, not yet committing to go.
The children were freed to play after the meal. Pansy showed them to a pond
where they fed the fish with leftover bread from lunch. Dark hair in pigtails,
she pouted as she threw the bread in the water. 
“It’s not fair you all have horses! Father still hasn’t gotten me one.” 
Vince and Greg just stared at her, not sure what to do, but Draco took a seat
comfortably in the grass and promised to ask Narcissa to invite them over so
they could all ride together. Pansy practically tackled him with a hug,
squealing and thanking him over and over. 
They didn’t stay much longer after that. They made their polite goodbyes and
Narcissa Apparated them all home.
“Did you enjoy today?” she asked as they sat just within the Malfoy wards. She
looked white as a ghost and her voice was faint.
“Yes,” Draco admitted. He gave her an inquiring look. “Pansy would like to come
over to ride the horses.”
“And Vince wants to learn how to garden,” Harry added, eyes bright. 
She smiled, some color returning to her cheeks. “I think that can be arranged.”
“This if for you, Narcissa.” On Harry’s palm rested a flower-ring created by
carefully braiding the stems together. “Pansy showed me how to make them.”
Narcissa accepted the ring gratefully. “Thank you, Harry.” She pulled him
closer to kiss his forehead. “I’ll ask Lucius to charm it so that it stays
fresh.” She slipped it on her thumb and admired it, tilting it slightly one way
and then another.
Harry blushed - happy.
… 
A week or so after their playdate, September 21st arrived. Dobby woke them just
before dawn with excitement and flapping ears, instructing them to wear warm
sweaters and pants, but to remain barefoot. Curious, the boys dressed and went
to the breakfast room. Lucius and Narcissa were dressed similarly, except
Narcissa wore a wool skirt with her sweater. 
They welcomed the boys warmly, the room lit by dozens of candles, and explained
as they ate that it was Mabon, a spiritual day that marked the Autumn equinox.
A day when light and dark, day and night, were perfectly in balance. It was a
day to renew the wards, be thankful for all the blessings in their life, and to
prepare for the darkness of the winter months. 
“We will begin by renewing the wards. It will take us through to lunch. After
we eat, we will go to Diagon Alley and contribute to the harvest booths where
those who are less fortunate can come and eat freely and gather supplies
without charge,” Lucius continued.
“Then we will go to an apple orchard and pick our own apples to bring home for
Lottie to use,” Narcissa chimed in. It was clearly her favorite part of the day
from the twinkle in her eye. “After dinner, we will give thanks at our altar.”
Draco looked at Harry and shrugged. 
The boys took the robes they were handed. They were a simple black, much like
their school robes would be except without a crest. Lucius and Narcissa put on
similar robes. Draco was intrigued. Lucius wore robes regularly, especially if
he were about to conduct business, but he usually left them hanging open and
he’d never seen Narcissa in a Wizarding robe before. It gave Mabon a mysterious
and exciting feel. 
Lucius gave each boy a clay bowl while Narcissa carried one green candle and
one brown. Once they were outside, Lucius instructed Draco to fill his bowl
with dirt near the front door. Draco did so. They walked clockwise around the
outside of the house and collected dirt near the back door. Then Lucius led
them off to the south where a small stone altar was placed near the ground. The
sun had risen and they watched as Narcissa set her candles on either end and
indicated for the boys to set their bowls in the center.
“This ritual will strengthen the wards and help reinforce the bond between them
and our family.” Lucius explained, his grey eyes bright as he spilled a pouch
of iron spikes in front of the altar. The sun rising on their left, he said in
a loud clear voice, “Dark and light, equal parts at the time of Mabon. Fire and
earth, together. Balance, harmony, security, these things shall be mine.”
Harry was instructed to grab the green candle and Draco one of the bowls.
Narcissa knelt gracefully and gathered up the iron spikes. She began to mutter
over them, whispering things that made this land home. Things like dinners, and
parties, and lessons, and making love, and loss, and ritual magic, and family
portraits… They began the lengthy journey around the boundary of the Malfoy
property, traveling again in a clockwise direction. 
“Feel the energy of your land, and the way in which you connect with it,”
Lucius instructed, voice gentle and introspective. “Open yourself to the energy
here. Let your magic mix and add to the energy of our home.”
A charge had grown in the air. It made the hair on their arms stand on end.
Occasionally, for no reason they could discern Narcissa would stop and set a
nail into the dirt so that it stuck up like a golf tee. Lucius would hold his
hand over the iron nail. His head tilted back, eyes closed, he took a deep
breath in and slowly let it out. Magic seemed to strike from his hand and the
nail was shoved down, deep into the earth. 
Voice deep and oddly resonant, Lucius intoned, “Iron - strength unyielding -
protect my home, my family and me. Keep out that which would cause us harm.”
Draco and Harry might not know why Narcissa had chosen that spot, but they
could feel a ripple in the energy around them, a buzz almost. They set down
thirteen nails when they reached the halfway point and they came to another
altar. It had been an hour at least. The air wasn’t nearly as chilly as the
morning wore on. 
Harry was instructed to set his bowl in the center and for Draco to press the
candle into the dirt so that it wouldn’t topple. As soon as Draco released it,
it lit magically with a bright flare.
Lucius again intoned, “Dark and light, equal parts at the time of Mabon. Fire
and earth, together. Balance, harmony, security, these things shall be mine.”
They continued around the property, nailing the iron spikes and making the
wards buzz, until they reached the first altar. The second bowl was already
there, so Draco took up the second candle and pressed it into the dirt. Again
it lit magically, flaring up with a whoosh. 
“Dark and light, equal parts at the time of Mabon. Fire and earth, together.
Balance, harmony, security, these things shall be mine.”
They stood reflectively for a moment before Lucius turned to them with bright
eyes. “I’m sure you are hungry. Let’s go eat lunch and change before we head to
Diagon with our donations.”
They ate sandwiches for lunch and talked of inconsequential things. Harry and
Draco chose to wear the same clothes they had worn for their playdate, except
Draco also put on a dark blue blazer. Diagon was busy. People were talking
loudly - shopping, eating and laughing. Families were there in droves. The
shrieks of children could be heard and the cry of babies. 
Lucius and Narcissa cut through the throng, expressions remote as they ignored
the pointed fingers and excited chatter they left in their wake. They made sure
the boys stayed close while Lottie and Dobby carried their boxes of gifts and
food that they set on the harvest tables for any and all who needed them. The
witch who worked behind the tables organizing the items gushed about how
generous they were. A few flashes went off as pictures were taken by
journalists and fans. Lucius and Narcissa ignored it, but Draco scowled and
held tightly to Harry’s hand. 
They weren’t there for more than an hour, fortunately, before Lucius Apparated
them to the orchard Narcissa had visited ever since she was a child. It was her
favorite. So many trees all in rows, the shadows and bright sun danced together
under their canopy. It was beautiful. Everything smelled green and fresh. Birds
chirped and a cool breeze whistled through the leaves.
“Tresillian House and Garden is open by appointment only,” Narcissa told them
excitedly. “They have more than eighty-five varieties of Cornish apples as well
as medlars and quince. The restored walled garden also contains cordons of
historic varieties of apples, pears, peaches and cherries. All of which are
organic and planted using lunar cycles.”
They were given baskets, which they spelled to float beside them. The boys were
unsure at first, but soon they were running down the rows, searching for the
more interesting specimens. Lucius and Narcissa walked hand and hand, enjoying
the day and the boys’ happiness. Their baskets were filled before long. Red-
faced and smiling, apple juice stains on their chins, the boys took Lucius’s
hands and were Apparated back to the manor. 
They delivered their baskets to the kitchen, got cleaned up, and had a big meal
with roast pig and tons of vegetables. Draco was sure his stomach would pop.
Once dinner was done, they donned the robes once more and kicked off their
shoes, going barefoot out into the evening. 
Narcissa smiled and took Harry’s hand, Draco and Lucius followed, and they all
returned to the southern altar, the sun setting on their right to the west.
Once they got there, she released Harry’s small hand and reached up to unbind
her hair. It fell in a golden wave to the small of her back and floated on the
breeze. 
“While we celebrate the gifts of the earth, we also accept that the soil is
dying. We have food to eat, but the crops are brown and going dormant. Warmth
is behind us, cold lies ahead,” she began, pulling two apples out of each of
her robe pockets. She handed one to each of them. “The apple is a symbol of the
Divine. Apple trees are representative of wisdom and guidance.”
She turned her back and faced west, cupping her apple in the palm of her hands.
She lifting it toward the setting sun. Lucius mimicked her and a few seconds
later Draco and Harry followed. Narcissa spoke, rhythmic and ritualistic,
almost like a song.
“The apple is sacred, a symbol of the gods, and holds the knowledge of the
ancients inside. Tonight I ask the gods to bless me with their wisdom.” She
turned to the altar and set her apple next to the bowl of earth with the still
burning candle. A spell severed the apple in half, revealing the seeds in the
middle. “Five points in a star, hidden inside. One for earth, one for air, one
for fire, one for water, and the last for spirit.”
Lifting her hands, she turned back to the west and the dying sun. “I call upon
the wise ones, the ancient gods to hear my devout prayer. As the sun moves away
and fire fades to be replaced with the chill of the night, I will reflect on
the guidance of the gods and let the cool autumn rains that will come wash over
me, cleansing my heart and soul.”
Lucius stepped forward, placing his apple on the altar. Draco and Harry gave
him a questioning look and he nodded. They set their apples next to his. Draco
shared a look with Harry. They could feel a deep thrum of power under their
feet, as if the very earth was listening and breathing. 
Lucius took out a wooden goblet from his pouch and a small flask of dark red
wine. He filled the goblet and set it on the altar and stepped back. 
Narcissa took up the goblet. She lifted it to the darkness, the sun having set.
“The wild god returns this night to the belly of the Mother. The mother goddess
tonight becomes the Crone. As the Wheel of the Year turns, the earth dies a bit
each day. I willingly follow the old gods into the darkness, where they will
watch over me, protect me, and keep me safe.”
She sipped from the goblet and passed it to Lucius who also drank. He passed it
to Draco. The blond sniffed it and wrinkled his nose at the smell. He
considered his parents for a long moment. They didn’t seem affected by
drinking, so he shrugged and took a sip. It felt warm and unexpectedly thick,
like honey. Eyes narrowed suspiciously, he waited, but nothing else happened.
Slowly, he passed it to Harry, not sure he approved. Harry obediently sipped
from the wooden goblet and handed it back to Narcissa.
She used the rest of the wine to pour over the candle, extinguishing it. As
soon as the flame went out, Draco felt an almost electric current run through
his veins. Sparking and snapping, his magic practically hummed deep in his core
in response. The - surprise - through the bond told him Harry must feel
similarly. 
“The wild god has gone to rest in the Underworld. I look to the darkness for
renewal and rebirth.” She pressed her fingers into the wine-dampened earth in
the bowl. “Earth, symbol of security and stability, bring peace and harmony
into my home at this season of thanksgiving. May my family be well, my house be
a haven, and my table be one of hospitality. May the earth, the soil, the land,
ground me and protect me and those whom I love, and that which I call mine. My
property shall be a safe place, a secure place, a harmonious place for all
those who enter. As I will, so it shall be.” Narcissa then took out the candle
and set it aside, handing Draco the bowl of wet earth. “Take a handful and
scatter the earth back over our property. With it, say thanks for something you
appreciate in your life.”
Draco pressed his hand inside. He expected the dirt to be cold, but it was warm
just as the wine had been. He looked over at the smaller boy at his side. “I’m
thankful I have Harry.”
-devotion self-doubt - rushed through the bond as Harry ducked his head.
Draco flung a handful of the earth back toward the manor. It flew farther and
wider than it should have and a wave of energy pulsed through the ground. Eyes
wide, he passed the bowl to Harry.
“I…” Harry was awash with - deep gratitude unworthiness- It was clear he didn’t
know how to say what he wanted to say. In the end he said a quick, “Thank you
for everything.” He flung the dirt and again it seemed to fly through the air
blown by invisible winds. Again a pulse of energy shivered through the ground.
Lucius took the bowl next. “I am thankful my family is whole once more.” He
flung the dirt back toward their home. The energy pulse was stronger, a
physical tremor running through the ground and rushing toward the manor.
Narcissa took the bowl last. “I am grateful our son has returned and with him
the one who completes him.” She flung the rest of the bowl and it scattered far
and wide. 
The tremor was even stronger this time. The wind blew, whipping Narcissa’s hair
about. The air felt electric. Narcissa laughed and took Harry’s hand. Draco
smiled, feeling light and free, and chased after them as they spun and ran.
Lucius kept pace with Draco, teeth flashing in a wild grin. It didn’t last
long, but they were red-cheeked and panting by the time they reached the front
door of the manor. 
“Thank you both for celebrating with us,” Narcissa told them, stroking each of
their heads as they parted at the staircase. “Have a restful night sleep.” 
“Goodnight,” Harry called sleepily, hand secure and warm in Draco’s grip as he
led them up to bed.
Draco decided that Mabon wasn’t so bad. It was something he wouldn’t mind doing
again next year. The - happy contentment - from Harry told him that his boy
felt the same. 
“Love you, Draco,” Harry whispered in the dark as they snuggled under their
blankets. 
Draco smiled tenderly and pet Harry’s hair. * Love you, * he whispered into
Harry’s mind as they both fell into a deep, restful sleep. 
…
September came to a close and October arrived. They arrived at the Leaky
Cauldron and found Andromeda waiting for them. She smiled and welcomed them
warmly. Draco was alert for any hint of disapproval or discomfort, but he saw
none. That either meant she was good at hiding it or she had actually come to
terms with them being together. It didn’t matter to him either way. All that
mattered was that she didn’t upset Harry. 
Andromeda did, however, have new rules. Due to Dora being at Hogwarts, the boys
were no longer allowed to run about freely. Either Andromeda, Ted, or Remus
would escort them wherever they wanted to go in the city. Draco argued, but
Andromeda was firm and eventually he gave in. 
They continued their studies in science, math, and reading in the evenings, but
their days were spent out of the apartment. Remus helped them join a
neighborhood youth baseball league, which practiced two afternoons a week and
played a game every weekend. They saw movies, went to museums, and Andromeda
took them to restaurants from many different countries. They tried sushi, ate
Chinese and Indian curry, had Mexican and Greek. Andromeda always taught them
about each country while they ate. She was very intelligent and knew a lot
about many subjects, but it was Ted who made the biggest impression on them.
It started when they went to work with him one day at his invitation. Tonks’
Clocks was in London, a small little store, and although it was completely
Muggle, it felt magical. The store had warm wooden walls and an event darker
wooden floor, polished and shinning. It was lit with soft yellow-white lamps
and had an open floor plan with the walls lined floor to ceiling with wooden
clocks of all shapes and sizes. 
The artistry and craftsmanship was obvious even to their young eyes. There were
desk clocks, grandfather clocks, wall clocks, lamp clocks, mantle clocks, wrist
watches, and so much more. Dark wood, red wood, white wood, golden wood - every
type of wood imaginable. They had gold and silver watches and clocks as well.
Vines, flowers, animals - so many things were carved into some of their
surfaces. Ted led them to the back to the workshop. They met Edward Tonks Sr.
He didn’t have even a bit of magic. He was a jolly older man in a leather apron
and thick glasses. While Ted manned the store and did simple repairs upfront,
Edward showed them how to carve, how to feel the grain and work with the wood. 
“You have to reveal the shape it was meant to be, not force it,” he told them
with a wink. 
The workshop smelled of natural oils, woods, and soft metals, and the soft
comforting ticking of the clocks in the showroom filled the air. It was fun,
and the boys were happy to go again if Ted wanted to take them. Harry
especially was fascinated, which didn’t surprise Draco in the least. Harry
loved beautiful things. Draco was more interested in the store aspect. How much
did they sell on average? How much did it cost to buy supplies and tools? How
much was rent? Ted was taken aback by the surprisingly business-savvy
questions, but he chalked it up to Lucius’s tutelage.
On another day, halfway through October, Ted also took them to his art studio,
which was off of Diagon Alley in the magical district. The building was huge,
more like a warehouse, with three levels. The center was open all the way to
the roof and you could see all the balconies of each level from the ground
floor. There were dozens of studios that were rented by various magical artists
and various art pieces were on display like a museum. Ted’s space was on the
second floor. It was small but it was a corner room, so it had two windows -
one on either wall. 
Harry stared in awe at Ted’s newly finished painting of the ocean floor. It was
filled with shadows with the occasional beam of light piercing the gloom and
giving glimpses of fantastic and mythical things hidden in the underwater
depths. It was breathtaking. 
Ted caressed the painting fondly. “It’s definitely one of my favorites,” he
admitted. “The trick to magical painting is to be open to your own magic and to
inspiration. You have to create it layer by layer until it solidifies into a
living, breathing landscape. I’ll show you.”
He set Harry and Draco up with brushes and charmed paint. He had them paint the
outline of a cat that batted at a yarn ball. Draco’s cat’s eyes kept appearing
and disappearing. Harry’s had the ball of yarn batting at the cat instead of
the other way around. It was fun, and they all had a good laugh. 
All too soon, October was ending. Draco and Harry were disappointed to learn
that England didn’t celebrate Halloween in the same way as America did. There
were some decorations in stores and Halloween themed food items, but dressing
up and trick-or-treating wasn’t done - except for the occasional Halloween
party teenagers and young adults would go to. 
However, the magical district did celebrate, if a little differently. Halloween
was called Samhain. It was a time when the veil between the living and dead was
at its thinest. It was a feast day; families would get together and have a big
meal and reminisce about the dead and leave food and offerings for anyone
recently departed. Pumpkins were carved with scary faces to scare off any evil
spirits from the home. It was a time for ghost stories and harvest games. 
This year Andromeda had arranged for them to attend a community bonfire and
Samhain celebration. She promised them they would have fun since the other
families who were going had children their age. She also, of course, invited
Remus. Fortunately it wasn’t near the full moon, so he was able to accept.
Remus arrived shortly after lunch and he brought a photo album. He made sure to
get Draco’s permission before showing Harry. The blond had agreed on the
condition that Remus presented it in a casual way. If Harry began to get upset,
he had to change the subject. Remus had agreed.
Andromeda was sitting at the table working on embroidering protective runes
into some new robes for Dora. Ted was at the table with her, reading a paper.
He had taken the day off so that he could spend time with them. Harry had just
finished the dishes and came to sit on the couch with Remus and Draco.
“I have something to show you,” Remus said lightly, pulling the photo album
into his lap. He smiled, his scars pulling slightly. 
Harry looked at the first page of moving photographs curiously. 
“These are from my time at Hogwarts,” Remus continued. He pointed to a picture
of a lanky teen with half his face obscured by a book. He was sitting in a
stone window. “That’s me as a Second-year. And this one here is of James and I.
We were working on a Herbology project.”
Harry smiled as he saw the two pre-teen boys stand in the shallows of the lake
with their pants rolled up to their knees and their shirts rolled up to their
elbows. 
“You look a lot like him,” Remus noted gently, watching for a negative
reaction.
Harry’s eyes widened as he really realized what he was seeing. “That’s my…” -
uncertainty nerves -
“Father. Yes.” Remus turned the page. “I found some of your mother. I had to
owl a few classmates to get them. See, you have her green eyes.”
- sadness unease guilt - Harry stared at the picture of the little girl in her
school robe sitting under a tree and laughing. 
“Stop,” Draco ordered in a quiet, firm voice. He sank his hand into Harry’s
hair, holding firmly. His grey eyes seemed to pierce into him. “It’s not your
fault, Harry. They wanted to fight Voldemort. They died doing what they thought
was right. It didn’t have anything to do with you.” 
Tormented green eyes looked up at him beseechingly.
“It’s Samhain,” Draco explained. “Remus did a thoughtful thing for us. He
wanted us to be able to see them when we think of them tonight. We’re also
gonna remember Brendon.”
Harry relaxed - love gratitude sadness guilt. He felt conflicted about his
parents. He understood they were murdered because they fought a bad guy in the
war, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was his fault. The Dursleys’
hateful words still haunted him; part of him still believed them. His parents
were dark figures, evil and guilty like him, dead like he should be, but they
were also figures he used to long for and wish would save him when he still
thought he could be saved. 
He pushed aside the violently conflicting emotions. Draco wanted to remember
them tonight when they thought of the dead: the Potters and Brendon. Draco
wanted it, so it would be so, and that made things so much simpler. He leaned
into Draco’s side and listen passively as Remus showed Draco the rest of the
album. There weren’t more than twelve or so pictures. 
As Draco listened to Remus’s stories and asked a few questions, Harry let the
voices wash around him comfortingly. He watched from a safe distance the boy
and girl in the photos who looked like him. He tried not to feel anything in
particular and focused on the fact that Draco wanted to see his parents, and it
was okay since Draco wanted it.
Remus felt near to crying by the time he got through the album. Harry had
retreated. He was calm, but he was clearly unengaged. He wondered why Harry
felt so strongly against connecting to his parents and suspected the answer
would break his heart. The way Draco’s eyes had taken on a silver color told
him all he needed to know about Harry’s emotional landscape at the moment. 
Fortunately, Andromeda took over before things could get awkward. “Look at the
time,” she said, voice light and cheerful. “We’d better head out if we’re to
make it. Ted, darling, are you ready? Boys, why don’t you grab your coats.”
Draco hopped off the couch and led a passive Harry into their bedroom.
“Thank you, Remus,” Andromeda said sincerely, taking the album. “I’ll keep this
for Harry when he’s more ready to receive it, and I’ll say a prayer for the
Potters tonight.”
Remus gave her a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Dromeda.”
Ted came up and put his arm around his wife’s waist. He kissed her temple
briefly before looking at Remus with compassionate eyes. “I will as well.”
Remus thanked them both again, but didn’t have time to say more. The boys had
returned with their big winter coats on. They seemed subdued. The excitement
from earlier had gone. Remus was upset he was the cause, but he hadn’t known
what else to do. James and Lily deserved to be remembered, especially by their
son.
Andromeda moved to the boys’ side and offered them a big wooden spoon. “Here we
go,” she said with forced cheer. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, her
lips painted red. “A finger on the portkey please.” 
They all placed a finger on the spoon. 
Smiling, Andromeda said, “Portus.”
Chapter end.
A/N:Sorry for the delay! I was working out how I was going to do the time jump
to the boys’ First-year. I suspect it will come by chapter 60 or so. I’ll
likely end this story and start a sequel at that time. Who’s excited? 
***** Samhain *****
A/N: Freedom_Bound_in_Chains-_fanart by pixi56 on AO3 added another picture to
Chapter 2. It has Draco and Harry together! It’s worth checking out. Leave a
comment if you like it. :D
Samhain 
Andromeda, Ted, Remus, and the boys arrived in a wide, empty field in Devon.
Draco fell to his knees, his bones rattling from the portkey travel while Harry
sat hard on his butt, his glasses falling off. The adults shared an amused
smile before Remus helped Draco get to his feet and Andromeda set Harry to
rights. 
Ignoring them, Draco looked around. They were definitely not in London. In
fact, he had never seen such a large wide open space before, and it made him
feel paranoid. Malfoy Manor sat on a wide expanse of land, but there were
woods, hills, and the lake. It felt less open somehow than this vast field. The
ground was slightly hilly, the grass brown, and a long line of ankle high
stones led down the way toward a wide stone circle. 
It was large, but it wasn’t like stonehenge. The stones only stood at about
knee height. Just past the circle there was a pavilion set up with picnic
benches and tables. He could make out a sizable group of people already
gathered there, but they were too far to see clearly. The sound of laughter
could be heard on the breeze. 
Remus looked down at the boys. “Shall we join them?”
Draco nodded and followed Remus to the party, holding tight to Harry’s hand.
Andromeda and Ted linked arms and followed along behind them. 
Remus smiled warmly as he approached the Weasley matriarch. He had met her and
Arthur during the war as members of the Order. Molly was a short, plump woman
with vibrant red hair that held a slight wave and fell to her shoulders. She
had a round, cheerful face and warm brown eyes. She caught sight of Remus and
smiled widely, pulling him into a hug. 
“Remus! Welcome! It’s been ages.” 
Smiling bashfully, he gestured beside him. “Molly, let me introduce you to my
friends. This is Draco and Harry. And this is Andromeda and Ted Tonks.”
Molly gave them all a big smile. “Welcome to Ottery St. Catchpole's Samhain
celebration!”
“Thank you for having us.” Andromeda mirrored her happy smile. “Dumbledore
recommended it. He said he always had fond memories of the Samhain celebration
here.”
Molly laughed. “Oh, we’ve been known to have a good time. We always miss him
when he can’t attend. He always brings fireworks, you see. The children love
it! If we’re lucky, he’ll make an appearance this year.”
Draco rolled his eyes. No doubt about it, the old man would show. Dumbledore
wouldn’t miss a chance to see Harry.
“Let me introduce you to everyone!” Molly took Andromeda by the arm and guided
her to a couple with matching dark hair and olive skin. The woman had bright
blue-green eyes while the man had dark, deep brown. Molly introduced them as
Mr. and Mrs. Fawcett. They had a daughter and pointed out a little girl of
about eight who sat at a table alone reading a book. 
Next they were introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. Draco eyed Remus who grew
silent and tense beside him. When Mr. Diggory loudly proclaimed he was aiming
for the Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,
Draco understood. He didn’t bet those regulations and controls were at all kind
toward werewolves. Their son Cedric was ten and he was busy racing two
redheaded boys on flying brooms. Draco tried not to show how shocked he was
that the adults seemed unbothered by this activity. It looked remarkably
dangerous and unsafe!
“Those are my twins, Fred and George,” Molly explained, noticing where Draco’s
eyes lingered. “My three oldest are in Hogwarts. This is Percy’s First-year.
We’re expecting the twins’ entrance letter next summer. Over there, playing
with other children are my two youngest: Ron and Ginny. I believe Ron will be
in your year. Ginny will be in the year behind. Oh! I don’t know what I’ll do
once all my babies are in school!”
Andromeda made sympathizing noises while Remus and Ted shared an amused glance.
“Hello, Molly.” A tall, white-haired main stood before them with a wide,
friendly smile. “Is this young Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter? Why, I’d love to
interview you about the magical creatures in America!”
“This is Xenophilius Lovegood. He’s the editor of the Quibbler,” Molly
explained, smiling affectionately. “Xeno, this is Remus Lupin, Andromeda, and
her husband Ted Tonks.”
Draco stared back at the man, curious, knowing this was Pandora’s husband.
Harry answered softly that they hadn’t seen any magical creatures except
faeries. Lovegood grew very excited and would have probably done the interview
right then except Molly led them away saying that this was a celebration and no
work-talk was allowed.
“He’s harmless,” she assured them in a whisper before returning to a normal
speaking voice. “And this is my husband, Arthur. He’s not much different from
Xeno. He’ll talk your ear off about Muggle things if you let him!” she said
with a laugh, hands on her wide hips.
“I’m not quite as bad as all that,” the man argued. He had a bit of a belly and
thinning red hair. Despite his claim of innocence, he soon roped the adults
into a discussion on ‘elect-city’.
Molly shook her head and led the boys away. “Come. I’ll introduce you to the
children.”
Off to the side of the pavilion, there were kids gathered around an area marked
off for broom racing. They were cheering and talking loudly as they watched
Cedric beat the twins.
“Ron!” Molly called.
A redheaded boy with big ears and bright blue eyes turned with a scowl, but
when he saw Draco and Harry, his eyes widened. A little redheaded girl and
another who could only be Pandora and Xenophilius’s daughter grew quiet. Even
the twins and the older Diggory boy came in to land their brooms. 
“This is Harry and Draco. I want you to introduce them to the others and play
nice, you hear?” 
“Yes, Mum,” Ron promised and stepped up to Harry. 
Molly smiled, satisfied that everything was well, and left the children to
play.
Ron was tall for his age, so Harry had to tilt his head back slightly to meet
his eyes. By this time the kids were practically circled around them. The twin
redheads were grinning mischievously while Ginny looked awestruck and Luna and
Cedric looked curious.
“Blimey, are you really him?” Ron exclaimed. “Can I see your scar?”
Harry looked to Draco for guidance. Draco yanked Harry against his chest.
Surprised, Harry nonetheless folded against him without resistance. 
Draco glared at Ron over Harry’s head, wrapping the smaller boy in his arms and
gently cupping the back of his head, pressing the boy’s face against his
shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed, making his voice harsh
with anger. “Don’t you know what today means for him, you imbecile?”
Draco allowed Harry’s head to lift, and he cupped Harry’s face in both of his
hands, shushing him and telling him it was okay while most of his attention was
on the other kids. He mentally smirked as the group angrily dressed the other
boy down. Ron’s face went beet red and he ran off angrily, but Draco got what
he wanted. The other kids would be very careful with Harry from now on. 
“Sorry about him,” one of the twins said, draping an arm across Draco’s
shoulders. Draco had to lock his knees so that he didn’t fall when the bigger
boy practically hung on him. “He has no manners,” the other finished, draping
his arm across Harry’s shoulders. 
Draco eyed the one on Harry, but he could tell he wasn’t putting his weight on
the smaller boy, so he didn’t say anything. Harry ducked his head - embarrassed
nervous- at the physical contact, which only reinforced the idea that Ron had
upset him.
“Want to try a broom?” Cedric offered. “They have safety limitations set,” he
added regretfully, “but it’s still fun.”
“Limitations?” Draco asked frowning. Limitations wouldn’t be enough to make a
flying broom actually safe, in his opinion.
“They won’t get closer than a foot to the ground,” the redheaded girl pipped,
blushing. She tugged nervously on the ends of the red pigtails that fell over
her shoulders. “So you can’t crash land.”
“And there’s a Sticking Charm so you can’t actually fall off while in the air,”
Cedric added.
“Once we get to Hogwarts,” the twin on Draco said. “All bets are off,” the one
on Harry ended. Their grins were identical as Draco lifted an eyebrow at them.
“I think we’ll pass,” Draco drawled. He grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him
free of the boy hanging on him while simultaneously shrugged free of the other
one. “What else can we do?”
“We can bob for apples!” Ginny exclaimed excitedly, practically screaming her
suggestion. 
It was a Samhain tradition. Apples were cut in half and each half was placed in
a different barrel of water. Boys bobbed in one barrel and girls bobbed in
another. If any pair finds matching halves, then they were destined to marry.
Of course, the odds of finding matching pairs was pretty small, but it was
worth trying. Her heart beat hard in her chest as she gazed dreamily at Harry
and Draco.
“But Harry and Draco already found each other,” Luna interrupted, confused. Her
head tilted cutely to the side. “It’s pointless for them to play.”
Ginny’s blush deepened. “Boys can’t be together!” she yelled angrily.
Luna’s big blue eyes went wide. “My mama and papa said a prince can save a
prince and a princess can save a princess just the same as a prince can save a
princess or a princess can save a prince. There’s lots of different stories,
didn’t you know?”
“I like that idea,” Draco interrupted before the twins could say something
outrageous. “Blondes versus redheads, who can catch the prince first?” * Run,
Harry, *he said playfully into Harry’s mind. * Don’t let us catch you! *
Harry obediently sprinted toward the stone circle, hoping to use them as cover.
The twins gave a cackle. One leapt onto a broom, the other took off after Harry
on foot. Ginny chased after them, laughing. Draco and Cedric went the other
way, trying to head Harry off. Luna just smiled and wandered toward the center
of the stone circle, watching as Harry ducked, rolled, and zigzagged, avoiding
all pursuers. She was busy thinking about people who didn’t know there were
lots of different stories. That seemed sad to her. Maybe she’d ask her papa to
write about it in his magazine?
Ron watched the backward game of tag with a scowl on his face and his arms
crossed over his chest. It wasn’t fair! Everyone else had wanted to see the
scar, too! He hadn’t meant to make Harry Potter cry. Ginny had really kicked
him good. His shin still hurt and he knew his brothers would tease him
endlessly for it. Scowl deepening, he pouted. His mum asked him what was wrong,
but he told her to leave him alone. It’s not like he could tell her he’d made
the Boy-Who-Lived cry. She’d wallop him just like Ginny had!
Sarah Fawcett turned the page of her book, oblivious to the events going on
around her.
The unusual game of tag lasted just over thirty minutes. With Draco behind
Harry giving him instructions through the bond, Harry was able to keep out of
everyone’s reach. Fred kept being jerked sideways away from the stones or
another kid to avoid collisions, and whenever George or Cedric almost grabbed
the smaller boy, they’d suddenly fall over the stones or crash into another
person. Soon the three older boys were more interested in sabotaging each other
than actually catching Harry. 
That left Ginny and Draco. Ginny was pretty fearless. She went to tackle Harry
several times and went sliding on her chest when all she grabbed was air. When
Harry began to get too tired, Draco made it look like Harry just happened to
run to the right just when Draco cut that way. They crashed together and
rolled, ending with Draco on top of a sweating, smiling Harry. Draco grinned
and tickled his boy, making him giggle. 
“Kids! Come eat!” Molly called loudly, banging a spoon against a pot. 
The kids bolted to the table. Draco helped Harry to his feet and held his hand
as they made their way over to the feast. Spells were cast to clean them up,
and then Draco and Harry were sat between Andromeda and Remus with Ted on
Andromeda’s other side and Dumbledore next to Remus. The old wizard’s blue eyes
twinkled as he greeted the boys.
“I don’t think Hogwarts will miss me for an hour or two,” he said cheerfully,
stroking his white beard. His robes were a bright orange with black bats flying
about on them.
“Will you start us off, Headmaster?” Molly asked respectfully.
“Of course, my dear.” Dumbledore gave her a beaming smile. “You outdid yourself
this time. You put even the Hogwarts’ feast to shame.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she denied, but the way her eyes sparkled told another
story. Arthur put his arm around her waist proudly.
Clearing his voice, Dumbledore stood. Instantly all eyes were on him and
everyone stopped talking. “We welcome in Samhain in the company of friends and
neighbors and invite our loved ones to share this meal with us in spirit. The
bonds of the heart cannot be broken no matter how far apart we are. Peace and
blessings to all!”
The adults gave a cheer of agreement and lifted their drinks. Ron’s bad mood
transformed into joy as everyone began to eat. Draco’s eyes widened. Four
months with the Malfoys and Andromeda, who also had strict rules about
etiquette, had made eating properly a habit. He'd come to think all Wizards ate
that way, so he was shocked by the manners of the other children. Sarah Fawcett
and Cedric Diggory were mostly polite but used the same utensil for all their
food. Luna did okay, too, but the Weasley children, Ron especially, seemed to
have no manners at all. Ron rolled his eyes every time someone tried to correct
him, which confused Draco further. It seemed to him either the adults should
insist he correct his behavior if it were wrong or leave him alone if it were
not.
“How are you adjusting to being in England?” Dumbledore asked Harry, drawing
Draco’s attention.
“It’s nice,” Harry answered politely, head up and mask fully in place.
“I was impressed by the interview you two gave,” the old man continued, voice
light. “I’m very glad that it appears you are doing well.”
“As long as we have each other, we’ll be fine,” Draco said, brushing Harry’s
cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Isn’t that right, Harry?”
Harry looked adoringly at him. “Yes, Draco.”
The adults around them practically cooed. 
“You are very blessed to have each other,” Dumbledore agreed. “Why, I remember
being that close to my brother when we were young. Those were the best times of
my life.” He hummed, donning a thoughtful look. “Of course, we grew apart as we
aged as boys tend to do.”
“It’s probably different with twins,” Draco countered, eyes narrowing in
warning.
“Can’t imagine growing apart, can you, Forge?” George said from across the
table.
“Every time I think I’ve gotten away, you’re in front of me, Gred!” Fred
agreed.
“That’s because you were lookin’ at a mirror,” Ron snapped with a glare,
causing everyone to laugh.
The feast lasted a good two hours. People reminisced about loved ones lost.
Harry and Draco didn’t say much, just listening to the stories. Molly talked
about her twin older brothers lost in the war. Mrs. Diggory spoke of her
parents who died of old age. Xeno mentioned a sister who died in her childhood
due to Dragon Pox. He lovingly stroked Luna’s braided hair and explained they
had named Luna after her. Even Remus spoke of his friends. Draco thought it was
interesting that Dumbledore merely listened and offering words of sympathy and
comfort to the others.
After everyone was finished eating, they made up final plates and left them on
the table for any spirits to eat should they be hungry. Dumbledore placed some
fireworks in the center of the stone circle and gave Remus instructions on how
to light them before giving everyone a cheerful goodbye. He’d been away from
the school long enough and had to get back. The group thanked him for his
valuable time and attention, making Draco want to roll his eyes again.
By this time, the sun was setting. Remus lit the fireworks and they exploded
into the air in fantastic shapes with enormous booms that shook the ground. The
kids screamed and cheered as red dragons chased golden hippogryphs across the
sky. Thirty minutes later, the fireworks were gone. Everyone clapped and
cheered, even Draco. It had been truly amazing to watch. True dark had fallen
by now, and Molly’s voice carried to them from the gloom.
“Everyone! Take your positions around the circle and grab hands. We’ll light
the way to the spirit feast before we take our leave.”
Under Molly’s direction, the kids and adults spaced themselves around the
outside of the circle, facing inward. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory levitated the table
with the place settings and food into the center of the circle. The others
lifted their wands to conjure flames the size of fists that floated above each
stone. The fire filled the circle with light and more flames slowly winked into
existence above the line of shorter stones that led off into the distance
across the field, almost like they were pointing the way. 
At first the magical fire burned orange-yellow, but slowly it took on a violet
hue. A stillness deafened those on the field, a hush that went deeper than
nature. The world seemed to hold its breath. Energy - slow and mysterious -
began to charge the air. The circle was broken as parents gathered their
children to them. Suddenly, the dead silence was shattered by what sounded like
a horn off in the distance. The sound built until it seemed it was right on top
of them although they could still see nothing. 
Draco looked to Remus and saw that his eyes were bright gold, but he didn’t
have time to worry about that as something hot and sticky dripped down his
neck. Frowning he wiped at it, but nothing was there. It felt too much like
blood for his comfort and he turned to Harry protectively. In the reflection of
Harry’s glasses, Draco could see something glowing a white-blue against his own
throat.
“The knot…” Harry whispered. He reached out and touched the hollow of Draco’s
throat between his collarbones.
It was the blue Celtic knot that had appeared on his skin after the fairy had
touched him that spring. It had faded after a few days, so Draco had completely
forgotten about it. Heart pounding, he wondered how Harry could even see it
when they had sweaters and jackets on. His throat should be covered, but as he
pulled Harry protectively into his chest and felt warm skin against his own, he
realized they were both naked.
They were no longer standing outside of a stone circle in a wide open field of
brown grass. Woods surrounded them - dark and full of secrets and whispers.
Draco felt a growl rise in his throat as he crouched practically on top of
Harry. 
“Come, Dancer!” an unearthly voice called, full of hunger and joy. “Come lead
the Hunt!”
The horn sounded again and Draco felt a rush of bloodlust and excitement. It
was time for the Hunt! Scales began to cover his skin, dark as night, hiding
him. Claws grew on each finger. He could hear the horses stamping as the
hunting party waited for his signal. Throwing his head back, he howled, the
sound edged in a dangerous hiss. Voices lifted up in ferocious battle cries.
Draco caught the scent of blood and lunged into the woods, leading the Hunt.
Harry watched Draco disappear into the darkness with pride. His love’s strength
and beauty were undeniable. He knew without a doubt he’d catch his prey and
lead the hunting party to victory. Blood singing, Harry laughed and began to
dance. 
Twirling, he came to a stop and noticed that the forest was gone; he was back
in the stone circle. His bare skin was bathed in the warm violet light of the
fire-spheres burning above the stones. People were around him - a young woman
with long red hair and a man with glasses. They shared in his joy, dancing with
him, eating and drinking. They didn’t talk with words, but somehow they told
him they loved him. They respected Draco and were happy he was taking care of
and protecting Harry. Harry told them how much he loved Draco and how deeply
grateful he was to be in his care. He promised them that he’d try to be good;
he’d heal Draco and serve him. 
The woman hushed him, wrapping him in a love and acceptance that Harry didn’t
know what to do with. Darkness and uncertainty trembled at the edges of his
mind, but before he could grow upset, he was flung into the air and caught by
the man with glasses. The woman spun with him and they all three laughed and
laughed.
Draco felt the Hunt around and behind him. They moved with him, connected at a
primal level. The urge to kill, to drink blood and feast on hot meat, it
consumed them all. The beast was fast and clever. Draco howled in excitement as
it tried to escape. With a thought, he sent a section of his Hunt to the right
to flank their prey. The animal dodged left, right into his clutches. He sank
his teeth into its neck and arterial blood sprayed the air, causing the Hunt to
scream its victory! 
Heart pounding like a drum, Draco flung his head back and screamed, hot blood
dripping down his throat. He sprinted after the Hunt’s next prey, leaving the
lesser pack to eat the first kill and grow stronger. He was free! He was
strong! Joy lit his blood on fire and he ran faster, the Hunt galloping at his
heels.
For hours the Hunt ran, bringing down prey and feasting. They chased animals
through mountains, across rivers, over the desert sand. They hunted and killed
as a pack with Draco in the lead, and when they grew tired, they carried their
prizes back to the circle.
There were dozens of people waiting to welcome them back, and the dancing and
drinking within the stone circle came to a stop as Draco strode forward. The
crowd parted, a hush descended, as he walked toward Harry and laid a huge bear
down at the boy's feet. Gloriously naked, Harry went to his knees next to the
massive animal and looked up at him through his dark bangs with joy and pride
in his large, emerald eyes. 
Harry looked to be in his late teens, all long torso and lean thighs. His
shoulders had grown wider, but his waist and hips were still narrow. He was
petite yet strong; a beautiful boy. It made Draco’s blood heat to see him
wearing nothing but Draco’s collar. His chest expanded as he thrust it out in
pride, and he snapped his fingers, his piercing silver eyes never leaving
Harry’s kneeling form. 
Victory cheers shook the air as the bear and their other kills were carried
away to the food tables to be prepared and consumed. Draco yanked Harry into
his strong, muscled arms, naked as well except for a few splashes of dried
blood. Everything faded into the background as he thrust his tongue into the
boy’s willing mouth. They kissed hungrily, their bodies pressed close
together. 
Securing Harry’s thin wrists behind his back with one hand, Draco grabbed onto
Harry’s thick hair and pulled his head back just enough for the boy to feel it
in his throat. Thrusting his tongue forward again and again, Draco pierced
Harry’s mouth, claiming it. Whimpering, Harry caressed Draco’s tongue with his
own on every exit, as if asking him to stay.
Draco was growling when he pulled away. His heart pounded strong and fast; his
skin felt hot. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his skin. Panting lightly,
he noticed a crowd had gathered around them: a woman with red hair and a man
with glasses, Remus with glowing golden eyes and a fierce grin, and Brendon.
Draco stared into Brendon’s eyes and didn’t find it odd that they were the same
height. In this moment, Draco was no longer a child. He tipped his head in
gratitude; a gesture that Brendon returned, his eyes warm with affection. 
Beyond the circle of loved ones gathered around them, other families were
grouped together, kissing and talking, shedding tears and laughter. Further
beyond them, on the other side of the knee-high stones, were shadows and
tinkling laughter as slender inhuman figures danced round and round. The stars
spun and moved above them in impossible ways, the air thick with magic, but the
harvest moon remained steady and incredibly large, a fat crescent that bathed
them in a nearly orange light that danced with the light of the violet fires.
Music started, low and sweet. Draco became lost in his boy, aware of nothing
else as Harry gyrated against him. Grinning, fierce and hungry, he ran his
fingers across Harry’s swaying hips, over pink nipples and his undulating
stomach. Harry tossed his head back, his arms reaching upward as he rocked and
moved to the beat. Draco pressed up close to him, Harry molding to his every
curve. Sinking his hand into that wild, dark hair once more, Draco sucked along
Harry’s throat, biting into the leather collar that marked Harry as his. 
Harry went limp in his arms, submitting to his teeth, and Draco laid him
carefully on the soft grass. Arching his back in a graceful wave, Harry just
barely brushed their chests together, a sensual plea for more contact. Eyes
shinning silver with promise, Draco slowly and deliberately gripped Harry’s
wrists in one hand and pushed them over the boy’s head, holding them there in a
tight grip. Harry spread his legs, sighing in pleasure, and cradled Draco’s
hips with his thighs. Draco took advantage of the position and pressed his rock
hard erection against Harry’s warm belly, wetting the boy’s soft skin with his
scent.
As Harry gasped and moaned, Draco’s free hand gently skimmed Harry’s chest
before sinking to the boy’s waist, covering the dragon tattoo. The silver
dragon was on its hind legs, wings expanded outward, one halfway covering
Harry’s stomach and the other curling around Harry’s lower back. Its serpentine
head was tipped back and its jaws were open in a roar. Draco covered the mark
possessively and sucked a pink nipple into his mouth. 
Harry arched his chest up into Draco’s sharp mouth with a cry as Draco bit down
on the sensitive bud just enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood. The
sound of Harry’s pain/pleasure struck through Draco like lightning, and he
began to devour every inch of Harry’s body. Biting, pinching, grabbing - he
left dozens of bruises, marking as much of Harry’s pale, golden skin as
possible. Harry tossed his head wildly, but he never tried to get away from the
sharp sting of Draco’s mouth and hands. He opened himself wider and thrilled in
each mark. 
With a hoarse, wild cry, Harry nearly came as the little stings and pains came
faster, but Draco growled and clamped down punishingly at the base of his
erection, preventing his orgasm and making every sensation that much more
intense. He only wanted his scent on Harry’s skin. Harry cried out, his sweet
voice loud and wanton, as he was denied again and again. His cock darkened to
purple and glistened with pre-cum that oozed rebelliously past Draco’s
constricting grip. 
Heart thundering furiously, Draco moaned, eyes nearly wild as he watched Harry
writhe and scream. Pinching one last bruise onto the tip of his boy’s aching
cock, he was pushed over the edge by Harry’s denied pleasure. Draco arched with
a violent snap of his hips and spurt again and again over his boy’s naked body.
The smell of Draco, the image of him flushed and overcome with pleasure, the
echo of Draco’s completion through the bond - Harry’s orgasm was only a breath
away. Dazed, pupils huge with lust, he reverently rubbed Draco’s spunk into his
newly-marked skin. He spread it around until his torso was sticky with it. 
Draco stared into Harry’s eyes, dominating him with a single, commanding look.
Slowly, he bent his arms so that their chests pressed together, and with a
fierce grin, he slid downward. * Good boy, * he praised, breathing in deep as
his smell rose from the boy’s skin. He opened his mouth and Harry’s rigid,
purpled erection slid past his swollen lips, over his tongue, and nestled in
the back of his throat. 
Harry screamed as their pleasure met and merged and exploded across the bond.
The world shook as magic burst outward: greens and pinks and purples shimmered
in a curtain that encompassed the sky and enveloped the world. Lightning
flashed and struck the ground in an electric dance, matching the rhythm of
Draco’s bobbing head. Draco gripped Harry’s ass hard, lifting it off the ground
and shoving his dick further into his throat. Slowly, the pounding pleasure
slowed. He drank every drop until Harry was soft and whimpering underneath
him. 
Rearing up onto his knees, towering over his boy who lay limp and sated and
thoroughly marked, Draco roared his triumph to the stars, defiant and wild.
Echoing cries of pleasure resounded around him, the world celebrating his
claim. Music started once more and this time it was Draco who leapt and
gyrated, displaying his power and strength to his love. 
Harry, still jelly-legged from their orgasm, gracelessly returned to a kneeling
position to watch with adoring eyes. His hands fluttered as he reached out, not
daring to touch the perfection of Draco’s skin. The blond was muscled like an
Olympic swimmer. His hair fell to his shoulders in a gorgeous platinum-blond
curtain. Faint white lines decorated nearly every inch of already pale white
skin, giving him the look of an exotic warrior. Every roll of his finely
sculpted abs, every flex of strong thighs, had Harry gasping, hot with an
overwhelming desire to be under him, pressed down and owned completely.
Desperate for sensation, Harry pressed his fingers into the marks that were
sorest, reveling in the hot, sharp throbbing that followed, and grew achingly
hard. 
Watching his boy slowly become consumed with desire, Draco fleetingly brushed
Harry’s seeking fingers with his arms, thighs, and hips until Harry was a
panting mess, his cock slowly darkening as he was teased. Laughing, sharp and
free, Draco pulled Harry to his feet and brought him into the dance. They moved
as one, spinning and stepping, until they were covered in sweat, their muscles
trembling, their hard erections batting at each other almost playfully.  
Near exhaustion, he rode Harry to the ground once more. He forcefully spread
Harry’s legs with his own and pinned the boy’s arms above his head with a
painfully tight grip on the back of the boy's upper arms. Harry cried out,
throwing his head back and exposing his throat. Thrusting against him wildly,
Draco drove against him with fast, furious strokes until they came in a
blinding explosion of fireworks, screaming their pleasure with voices hoarse
and wrecked. 
… 
Remus groaned, the sun creating a sharp golden line on the horizon. Something
warm and constricting wrapped around his cock. He groaned again, having almost
forgotten this perfect feeling. It had been more than ten years since he’d been
with anyone. His hips rocked in short stabs, sending spikes of pleasure
shooting through his veins and electrifying his skin. His lover’s thick white
hair fell over Remus’s chest and arms. Broad shoulders, a slim waist - Remus
gasped, hips snapping forward more forcefully, burying himself deep in that
tight, wet heat. Xenophilius tossed his head back, exposing his throat and
revealing a blissed out expression as Remus began to thrust in earnest. 
The man’s skin smelled salty-sweet. Surreal and overwhelming, Remus could
barely understand what was happening. All he knew was an all-consuming
pleasure. He growled and groaned, holding Xeno in a powerfully tight grip,
refusing to let the man go, but Xeno muttered pleas for more instead in a weak,
almost sweet voice, lashes damp with tears. 
The sound of their bare skin slapping together filled Remus’s ears. The
pleasure curled tighter and tighter. As orgasm rushed upon him, the urge to
bite was overwhelming. Wrapping his arm around the front of Xeno’s throat,
Remus bit into his own wrist, coming to pieces deep into the man’s willing
body. He could feel the shudders that wracked his lover’s frame as he too found
completion, spilling onto the dirt underneath them.
Reality crashed in, shattering Remus’s high. Still panting and trembling from
the intense experience, he jerked away. His dick slipped from the man’s wet,
stretched hole with a squelch that made Remus gasp and cringe. His eyes wide as
saucers, he knelt next to the man he’d just buggered.
Xeno rolled onto his back and blinked up at Remus. Tears were still damp on his
cheeks, but he was smiling. His thick, long hair tangled around his shoulders
and draped across his chest and the ground, falling nearly to his waist. With a
pale hand, he pushed it off his face, looking up into Remus’s eyes.
“Fascinating,” he remarked, hoarse. 
Remus panicked. Stuttering apologies, he scrambled away from the man and got to
his feet. He quickly conjured a Wizarding robe and hurried to wrap it around
his naked, scarred body. The boys! He needed to find the boys… He passed Molly
and Arthur who were still rocking together slowly as they came down from their
high and a sleeping Andromeda and Ted. There, in the center of the circle, he
found them.
Draco was on top of Harry, passed out. His back and thighs, horrifically
scarred, were bare for all to see. Remus shook him gently, and the blond
blinked, coming to his knees and revealing an even more scarred torso and arms.
Underneath him, Harry looked like he’d been tortured. Bruises littered his skin
from his neck to his hips and all down both arms, but there was no swelling,
only surface damage. Draco looked smug as hell as he traced one of the bruises
along Harry’s rib cage. Harry blinked as he looked down at himself and then a
beautiful smile spread across his face.
Remus conjured them robes, disturbed but unable to say anything since he had no
room to talk at the moment. He’d just fucked a man - a married man! He wasn’t
even gay! 
While the boys dressed, Remus began to tend to the others in the circle.
Anything to stay distracted and not have to remember what it felt like to be in
the body of another man. Little Ginny had been wrapped up with Cedric.
Fortunately, there was no scent of sex in the air around them. They looked to
have merely danced. He conjured more robes and settled them over their bodies
like blankets, casting a sleeping spell to keep them unconscious. 
He did the same for Ron and Sarah, and then Luna and the twins who were so
entangled that it was hard to say where one ended and another began. The adults
were up by this point, their lust sated. Fortunately everyone had been with
their spouse… except for Xeno that was. Amazed murmurs and talk of the Hunt and
dance last night broke the silence. Their magical stores felt enriched, the
whole night a blurred, fantastic memory.
Remus cringed, heart pounding as Xenophilius approached him.
“I want you to know that I feel honored to have been invited into a faery ring
last night,” the man said, blue eyes kind. “You have no reason to be ashamed.
Magic wills as it wills. We should be thankful for its gifts.” He placed a
gentle hand on Remus’s shoulder. “I assure you my wife will feel the same.
Please go in peace, Remus. I wish you well.”
Remus found himself relaxing almost against his will. “Thank you,” he
whispered.
Xenophilius bowed his head and went to gather his daughter. With a final wave,
he disappeared. 
Unconscious children were held in the arms of parents as one-by-one the
families departed. Fred and George were awake and unusually quiet. One held on
to Molly who carried Ginny while the other held on to Arthur who carried a
sleeping Ron. 
Remus shook himself. He still felt like he was dreaming. Andromeda and Ted had
the boys and gestured him over to their portkey. Unlike the others, they did
not live nearby and couldn’t simply Apparate. Remus touched the spoon, very
careful not to look anyone in the eyes. 
He remembered the Hunt. Remembered the wild calls that led him onward, the
taste of hot blood and flesh in his mouth. He remembered Molly and Andromeda
riding beside him, screaming her excitement into the wilds. Mr. Diggory and Mr.
Fawcett had been to his left. All five of them had killed together. He had
looked right into their eyes and bathed in the blood of their prey. 
A little less clear was their triumphant return to the circle. He had vague
memories of a whole crowd being present. He remembered walking through those
who were nearly see-through. The vague impression of James and Lily touching
and comforting him still lingered in his mind. Dancing had begun at some point.
He remembered prowling the circle as Molly practically attacked Arthur and
Andromeda jumped Ted, and he’d been drawn to the naked figure dancing
gracefully alone. Long hair flaring around his bare shoulders and falling down
a finely muscled torso and broad back, Xeno had been an erotic siren that Remus
could not resist. 
Unbalanced and distracted, Remus fell flat on his ass as they landed in the
living room of Andromeda’s home. Draco and Harry were sprawled next to him.
Being younger, they were much quicker getting to their feet, and Remus blushed
hotly as Ted helped him stand.
“Andromeda, can you write Narcissa?” Draco asked, yawning. “Let her know we’ll
be getting home a little later today. Harry and I need a nap.”
“Of course. Sleep well,” she answered, yawning herself.
“Bye, Remus,” Harry called, waving with his free hand. “See you in December.”
“Bye, Harry,” Remus answered, still dazed. “See you soon.”
Grey eyes caught and held his own. “Take care of yourself,” Draco ordered.
Remus felt that gaze as an almost physical force. He wanted to show his throat
and drop to his knees. Swallowing hard, he locked his legs and promised, “I
will.” Turning to Andromeda and Ted, he gave them a polite smile. “Thank you
again for inviting me.”
“Anytime,” Ted answered easily, an arm around his wife’s waist. 
Remus practically fled. 
… 
Harry lay curled up against Draco’s side. His eyes blinked slowly as sleep
tugged at his mind. “Draco…”
“Mmm?” 
The blond’s heart beat a steady rhythm under his ear. Voice barely a whisper,
Harry asked, “Will you look at the album with me sometime?”
“Yes, Harry.” Draco smiled and began to pet Harry’s soft, black hair. “We’ll
look at it next time we come.”
-gratitude sorrow LOVE- Tears filled his eyes, but they weren’t just sad tears.
He felt nearly overwhelmed with love for the boy who had always taken care of
him and protected him. “I love you, Draco,” he whispered thickly.
“Sleep.” Draco turned on his side and curled around his boy. “I’ve got you.”
Smiling, tears glistening on his dark lashes, Harry slept. 
Chapter end.
***** Justice *****
A/N:Sorry this chapter is a week late. I haven’t given up on this story at all.
RL is very difficult right now and also this chapter kept growing. It’s the
length of two chapters in one. I hope to get the next chapter out next Sunday -
April 16th - and get back on the usual schedule. Thank you for your support and
patience. I look forward to hearing what you think about this one. It was
definitely difficult to write.
Justice
Narcissa gave a polite smile as Andromeda stepped through the floo the day
after the boys had returned to the manor. Her sister wore a long maroon and
grey plaid skirt that fell just above her ankles and a maroon blouse. Her
darker hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few whips framing her heart-
shaped face. Her lips were painted a dark red; her eyes were lined with kohl.
She had grown into her beauty, holding herself with confidence and grace. In
their youth, Narcissa had always been considered the most beautiful of her
sisters, however she had grown colder and harsher instead of more graceful. 
“I have tea set up in the sitting room,” she said politely and gestured toward
the doorway. “If you would care to join me?”
“Of course.” Andromeda bowed her head slightly. 
As she followed her sister, they didn’t speak more than polite comments. She
took a seat at the table Narcissa had arranged, complimented the tea service,
and requested one sugar. She wondered what Narcissa had invited her over to
discuss and how long it would take her to get to it. 
Narcissa led the conversation, discussing the current trends in Wizarding
fashion and soliciting Andromeda’s opinion. As their second cup was prepared,
she casually stated, “The boys informed us that there was an event during
Samhain.”
Andromeda set her porcelain teacup down with a soft click. “Yes. Our circle
drew the attention of the fae. Some of us were called to the Hunt. Others were
called to dance.”
“That is what the boys have told us,” Narcissa agreed, daintily lifting her cup
and sipping from it. “I was hoping for more details.”
“I’m afraid it’s hard to describe.” Andromeda frowned and tapped a nail on the
table in thought. “It was as if I wasn’t myself but more myself than I had ever
been before. I don’t remember the kills very well. However, the taste of hot,
fresh blood filling my mouth will never be forgotten. I remember feeling like I
was riding a massive horse, but at other times it felt like I was running on
legs significantly more powerful than my own.” She looked Narcissa in the eyes
and grinned fiercely. “The Leader of the Hunt was a powerful fairy, Narcissa. I
can’t rightfully describe it. I would have followed his call forever, but we
were fortunately led back to the circle instead of spirited away. Those we’d
left behind, including my husband, were waiting. He told me that he’d danced in
ways that weren’t physical; it was a deeply spiritual experience for him.
Others were there, too, including Mama and Reggie. We all danced and ate and
drank. I don’t remember it too clearly, but I remember feeling powerful and
complete. It was surreal.”
Narcissa hung on her sister’s every word. She couldn’t imagine such an
experience and felt honored that her children had been chosen while also
feeling jealous. She would definitely make sure she was present during the next
Samhain. A rising blush on Andromeda’s cheeks drew her attention and she lifted
an eyebrow. “What happened next?”
“Let’s just say I felt invigorated and celebrated that strength with my
husband.” Andromeda blushed even darker at Narcissa’s knowing look. She quickly
took a sip of the now cool tea to hide her embarrassment.
“What were the children doing during this celebration?” Narcissa asked
curiously.
“The children continued to dance, of course.” Andromeda tilted her head
curiously. “They are too young for anything else.”
“Even the boys?” Narcissa pressed, heart beginning to beat faster. This was the
perfect opportunity to feel Andromeda out on the topic of the boys being
together.
Andromeda stared for a long minute, her hazel eyes dark with emotion. Quietly,
she said, “I don’t like what you’re implying. Draco may have made it clear that
he felt more attached to Harry than is strictly platonic, but they are still
young and had only each other for so long.” She chuckled, trying to make light
of it. “After all, it’s not unusual for children to say they will grow up and
marry their parents. Draco is simply confusing their love for each other as
something more than it is.”
“No.” Narcissa refused to play along with her denial. “Their bond makes
confusion regarding their feelings impossible. Draco meant what he said.”
Andromeda’s smile became desperate. “You can’t possibly know that. They are too
young to truly feel lust. When they are older, they will gain a more natural
perspective and be drawn to girls.”
Narcissa could see Andromeda was upset. Her eyes were too wide, her smile too
forced, and her breathing had quickened. It told her that Andromeda didn't
fully believe what she was saying. A part of her feared the boys would be
together in truth. Narcissa considered her next move carefully. 
On one hand, Andromeda’s denial let the boys live with her in peace. If
Narcissa insisted that Andromeda acknowledge the boys’ true relationship, she
may demand some type of mental health treatment. That would lead to Draco
refusing to return to Andromeda’s entirely, which Narcissa would love, but
Andromeda could then ask the Ministry to enforce the visitation contract.
Questions would be asked and shortly thereafter the Ministry and the whole of
the Wizarding world would know the boys were gay. Sadly, the public would at
best act like Andromeda and make demands for treatment or at worst they could
demand the boys’ bond severed and have them admitted to a mental hospital until
proof of being cured could be established. 
On the other hand, Narcissa didn’t expect Draco to keep their relationship
secret while in his other home. Eventually Harry would need something like that
shocking puppy game and Draco would not deny him. If Andromeda wasn’t resigned
to them being together by that point, then the worst case scenario would likely
happen anyway. Narcissa would have to employ all of her Slytherin cunning to
make sure that didn’t happen.
With a feigned sigh, Narcissa lifted her cup and took a delicate sip. “Perhaps
you are right,” she said lightly. “Draco may mean it now, but he is very young.
The young often say things they mean in the moment, but that aren’t true
later.”
Andromeda seemed to relax, her smile truer and brighter. “Exactly.”
“But if it were true,” Narcissa continue casually, “it’s a shame the world
would be so against it. It’s not like there would be many such couples compared
to the more traditional pairs, so what should it matter? Even Merlin formed a
triad with Arthur and Lancelot. This fear of homosexuals seems silly.”
Andromeda frowned. Unconsciously she began to twist her cup the way their
mother had when she was deep in thought. 
Putting a little more bite into her tone, Narcissa added, “Actually, I’m
surprised. You threw away so much of what we were taught, why would you hold
onto this one?”
Andromeda tensed and glared at her sister. “Is this what you called me here to
discuss?”
Narcissa patted her mouth with her napkin and set it on the table. “No. The
Aurors finally tracked down the Dursleys to a rocky, abandoned island. They are
currently being held at the Ministry for questioning, but they aren’t
cooperating. If that continues, Harry will be called to give his memories to
the Wizengamot so that a verdict can be made. Your attendance as Harry’s second
guardian will be required if it comes to that.”
Andromeda’s eyes narrowed in worry. “How are the boys taking the news?”
“Harry is anxious he will commit some error of course, but Draco has assured
him that he will not be returning to the Muggles regardless of anything he does
or doesn't do.”
Drumming her fingers on the table, Andromeda asked archly. “Is there a chance
the Dursleys will be found innocent?”
Narcissa met her eyes calmly. “None, but if the Wizengamot does fail, others
will be ready to step in to make sure justice is done.”
Andromeda smiled coldly. In this she was of one accord with her sister. “Good.
Let me know if my assistance is needed in any way.” She stood and fixed the
cuffs of her blouse. “Thank you for inviting me to tea, Narcissa. We should do
this again soon.”
Narcissa stood and gave a regal nod of her head. She led her sister back to the
receiving room and said her goodbyes. Andromeda left in a flare of foo-fire,
and Narcissa stood there for several minutes frowning. Had she said enough to
plant the seeds of acceptance in her sister’s stubborn head? Only time would
tell, but she certainly wasn’t going to give up. Maybe it was time to talk to
Severus. He would know of potions that would assist her if Andromeda became
troublesome.
… 
Lucius sat in his office and plotted. He had no faith in the government to do
what was right, and that was the utter destruction of the vile Muggles Harry
was unfortunately related to. He was determined to have revenge. 
The first step in the plan was to stir up the population a bit. It may be
illegal for newspapers to toss speculation around about a minor, but it was
perfectly legal for them to report factual information regarding trials and
arrests. Lucius whispered in the right ears and suddenly the fact that Harry
Potter’s previous Muggle guardians had a trial scheduled at two in the
afternoon on November 7th was splashed across several publications. Each
demanded in their own way that they hoped justice was done for their hero who
had already gone through so much. Lucius also made sure to talk to the highly
suggestible and ambitious Cornelius Fudge. 
During the war, a young Bartemius Crouch, the then newly appointed Head of the
DMLE, had worked hand in hand with Minister Bagnold. They had been heroes,
taking decisive and often borderline unethical action against Death Eaters. It
was Crouch who authorized his Aurors in using the Unforgivables. He also
approved of a kill rather than capture approach. He’d personally overseen the
arrests and sentencing of dozens of Death Eaters. However, in mid-December
after the Dark Lord had fallen, it came to light that his own son had
participated in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Crouch’s star had
fallen fast after that.
Which had brought Cornelius Fudge to Lucius’s attention. The man was Barty
Crouch’s peer. He had also been involved during the war, acting as Head of the
Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. He and his department were
often first on the scene after battles and Death Eater attacks. He’d helped the
Aurors and dealt with the populace during the aftermath, which had built him a
considerable reputation. He was ambitious, and as Crouch’s star fell, he became
very useful and supportive of Minister Bagnold. Fudge’s star had continued to
rise, and now it was his name that was whispered as the best candidate for
Minister when Bagnold retired. Lucius had gotten on board early on and had a
very strong relationship with Fudge, which he used now, whispering that Fudge’s
reputation would become that of a hero if he helped see to it that Harry
Potter’s abusers were brought to justice. After all, in just a year, the
campaigns for the next Minister would begin in earnest and Dumbledore was still
a strong candidate.
“I was one of the first on the scene when Black was arrested,” Fudge told him
when Lucius stopped by to pay a visit. “So messy! So many Muggles to Obliviate!
So tragic, that Mr. Potter’s own godfather would betray him so thoroughly…
You’ve been a good friend, Lucius. You’re an honorable man to take in our Mr.
Potter as you’ve done. I give you my word that I will see to it that he gets
the justice he deserves.”
“Thank you, Cornelius,” Lucius had answered, heavy with respect. “I knew I
could count on your friendship. You will always have mine in return.” 
He had pretended not to see the avaricious gleam in the man’s eye as he had
taken his leave from Fudge’s office. Lucius wanted him greedy; in fact, the
greedier, the better. 
Lucius had made a few other calls and visits, and the result was that on the
day of the trial the Ministry lobby was filled with Harry Potter supporters and
dozens of reporters all waiting to hear the verdict. It also ensured that the
Wizengamot was present in full and that the Ministry side was full to capacity
with various department Heads, Junior Ministers, the Senior Undersecretary, and
the Minister herself. The courtroom hadn’t been so full since the war,
officials squeezing in next to each other filling every space. 
The stage was set. Now it was up to Draco. He had a feeling his son felt even
more strongly about the Dursleys than he did. He’d have to wait and see what
his son would do and be ready to support him. Malfoys always got what they
wanted.
… 
Draco lifted his lips from Harry’s hip, eyes bright. 
Harry was panting, his damp hair fanned out around his head - love trust -
singing between them. They had just gotten out of the bath and Draco had gently
pinched and kissed the healing bruises scattered over the front of Harry’s
body, refreshing them and making them sore anew.
“You’re mine now, Harry.” Draco crawled up, never breaking eye contact with his
flushed, wide-eyed boy. He put their faces close together and firmly gripped
his jaw. “That means if people insult you or hurt you, they’re hurting me. I
don’t want you to let others disrespect me by putting you down. Do you
understand?” 
Harry bit his lip - uneasy nervous.
Draco’s hand tightened on Harry’s jaw, making him focus. “Remember when we went
to school? And you stood up to those kids who picked on you? To protect me, to
protect us? I want you to do that again for me.”
- uncertainty determination love- “Yes, Draco.”
Draco gave him an easy smile and kissed him, thrusting his tongue deep into the
boy’s mouth before pulling away. “Good. Let’s get dressed.”
Draco had chosen to wear black. His day coat fell to mid-thigh and had two rows
of large silver buttons going down either side of his chest. They held the coat
closed on the side and made it seamless down the front so that it looked like
all one piece and vaguely resembled a wizarding robe. (Children under the age
of eleven who had not yet learned to work magic did not wear robes except for
rituals or very formal occasions.) The lapels of the coat were wide, folded
back away from his sternum revealing the white button-down he wore underneath
and his black necktie. The end of his white sleeves poked out slightly from the
coat sleeve, revealing an inch of white at his wrists. He wore slacks and dress
shoes. His hair was tucked securely behind his ears, and pinned over his heart
was a thin green stalk with white spiky balls on it. They were chestnut flowers
and symbolized the call for justice. 
Harry wore a deep red day coat, the red of the House of Potter. It was tighter
and more formfitting than Draco’s, hugging his slender frame. It had wide black
cuffs and black lapels that opened in a deeper V than Draco’s, revealing more
of his white undershirt. He had a thin, red ribbon tied around his throat to
hold the white collar of his undershirt closed around his throat, incidentally
covering the black collar he never took off. He wore shorts that fell just
short of the knee and black socks that came up to mid calf. His dress shoes had
higher heels than Draco’s, placing them at the same height. Draco did his best
to brush and tame Harry’s hair, but it remained thick and wavy, falling over
his ears and into his eyes, covering his forehead. Over his heart, he had two
types of flowers: a simple yellow marigold and a few small pink flowers with
five open, heart-shaped petals that were white at the base with a yellow
center. It was called an Eglantine rose. Marigolds symbolized pain and grief
while the Eglantine rose symbolized a wound to heal. 
As a final touch, Draco slid the vial of specifically chosen memories into
Harry’s pocket and pecked his lips. “You look amazing.”
Blushing, Harry leaned against Draco - love embarrassment.
Draco took his hand and they made their way to the receiving room. Lucius,
Narcissa, and Andromeda were waiting for them. Lucius wore a nice suit and
over-robe with silver snakes knotted at each side of his neck. His thick blond
hair was left unbound and fell free just past his shoulders. His eyes were a
bright grey, his expression hard, but he gave a small smile when the boys
appeared. Narcissa wore a black wizard robe with tight sleeves and back vines
embroidered on them. Underneath she wore a tight floor length dress that was a
dark forest green with triangular shapes embedded in the pattern. Her hair was
pulled back into a single twist, her eyes a nearly crystal blue. Under a simple
black robe, Andromeda wore a loose knee-length dress that was the deep Potter
red in Harry’s honor. She’d left her dark brown hair to fall in waves to her
shoulders with two beautiful, golden hair combs holding it off her face and
pinned on both sides of her head. All three of them had a bulbous, inwardly
folded yellow flower pinned to their robes: bird’s-foot trefoil, the flower of
revenge. 
Narcissa held her hand out to the boys. “Come. It’s time.”
Draco led Harry forward and Narcissa settled her hand on her son’s shoulder.
She pulled the boys in close and they whooshed away amid green flames.
Harry stepped free of the floo and into the Ministry lobby. He was anxious. He
knew the Dursleys were here and that the Ministry was trying to take him and
Draco away back to Privet Drive. It made him queazy, but at the same time his
body throbbed in a dozen places, Draco’s collar sat snug against his throat,
and the blond’s promise rang through his mind. Draco had told Harry several
times they were not going back. Draco had never let him down, he’d never been
wrong, so that meant they weren’t going. Still, Draco’s request that he not let
anyone disrespect him made him uneasy. He would protect Draco, he’d die for
Draco, but he wasn’t sure he understood what Draco was telling him to do.
Coming from the floo hallway, they hit a massive crowd of people. Harry stepped
closer to Draco’s side and he felt the blond’s hand tighten almost painfully
around his own. Lucius, Narcissa, and Andromeda formed a shield in front of
them. 
Lucius briefly spoke to Chief McLaggen who had been waiting for them. He had
six Aurors with him and they surround their group, helping them get through the
crowd without being accosted. Harry’s face heated and he ducked his head as
people cheered and shouted good luck. Eventually they made it onto the elevator
and Lucius pulled on a lever. Draco wrapped Harry in his arms to cushion the
jerky movement as they zipped through the Ministry, and Harry was able to close
his eyes and relax in the absolute safety of that embrace. 
They stopped on the floor of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Chief
McLaggen explained that Harry’s memories would be taken here and would be
carried by him, personally, to the courtroom. They passed desks and cubicles
all set in seemingly random patterns. People in red robes worked with their
heads bent over their papers, but they all stopped and looked up as they
passed. 
Paper airplanes zoomed through the air going every which way while stacks of
files were scattered around the room nearly waist high in some places. Finally
they were taken down a hallway where the offices were placed. Chief McLaggen
led them to his own personal office. It was large with filing cabinets, a bar,
a table with six chairs, a massive desk, shelves for books and magical objects,
and plush rugs on the floor. 
“If you would like to stay here, I’ll take Mr. Potter to the Obliviator
assigned to this case. She is waiting for him only a few doors down.”
“He’s feeling anxious today,” Narcissa spoke in a cool, rational voice. “Would
it be permissible if his twin were to accompany him?”
McLaggen looked at Draco questioningly.
“I’ll stay out of the way,” Draco promised, making his eyes big and trying to
look innocent.
Harry, of course, was a master of the look and his large, green eyes implored
McLaggen to allow it. 
With a sigh, McLaggen nodded his head. “Only Mr. Malfoy. We don’t want
accusations that Potter’s memories were influenced or tampered with.”
Narcissa bowed her head. “We understand.”
Without further discussion, McLaggen strode from the room, his red robes
flaring. Draco followed him and Harry held tight to his hand, doing his best to
stay close.
They were taken to a bare room with a table and two chairs facing each other on
either side. A woman in black robes stood from a chair. She had dark brown
hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes. She was tall and thin, with a little grey
at her temple. Her expression was serious and she didn’t once smile during the
brief introduction.
“Obliviator Bellmouth, this is Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. You’re needed to
extract the memories from Mr. Potter that would confirm or deny any charges of
abuse.”
“Thank you, Chief McLaggen. I will need a moment alone with Mr. Potter,” she
answered flatly.
“It’ll be okay, Harry. I’ll be right outside, okay?” Draco said sweetly,
squeezing his hand once before letting go. * Give her the vial when she gets
close to you. *
Harry watched, heart thumping, as McLaggen and Draco left and the door shut
behind them. He turned wide eyes to the woman.
“Sit on the chair. I’m going to put my wand to your temple. You might feel a
tug inside your mind, but I’ll try and be quick.” 
Bellmouth moved to stand behind him once Harry obediently moved to the chair.
He reached into his pocket and lifted his hand to his shoulder where she was
touching him. She took the vial from him smoothly as she pressed her wand to
his head and stood there quietly for several minutes. Harry remained still,
waiting for his next instruction. 
After what seemed a long time, she finally stepped away and called for Chief
McLaggen to return. Draco was the first in the room and he immediately came and
wrapped Harry in a hug. Harry melted against him, but he was feeling pretty
calm. Sitting in silence with no one around was peaceful, but his heart picked
up as he thought about what would come next. 
McLaggen took the vial Bellmouth gave him and led the boys back to his office.
Lucius was standing by the bar, but he hadn’t poured a drink. Narcissa and
Andromeda came to their feet, having taken seats at the table. Draco and Harry
went to stand with the women as McLaggen confirmed the retrieval of the
memories and asked if they wished to witness the trial. Lucius confirmed they
did.
Harry nearly quivered with nerves. They were about to see the Dursleys. Dark
memories stirred in his mind, but Draco put pressure on him mentally through
the bond before he could truly panic.
* Don’t think about anything but my marks on you, Harry, * came a firm order. *
Feel them now. Count them. They mean you belonging to me. Think about nothing
else. *
Harry obediently ducked his head and thought about it. The one on his hips
throbbed a lot when he walked or sat because his pants pressed into it, but the
hottest ones were on his nipples. He probably liked the bites best, though. The
ones where he actually had scabs and the skin had broken. He currently wore
three: one on his stomach left of his belly button, one on the juncture of his
neck and shoulder just below the collar, and the last on his inner right thigh.
He liked how he could touch them and feel the marks under his fingers. It felt
more permanent and real somehow, like Draco had meant it more. 
Harry was pulled from his thoughts as the elevator doors opened and Draco’s
whole body went tense. He’d even stopped breathing. 
Lucius, Narcissa, Andromeda, and Chief McLaggen all stepped off the elevator,
but Draco remained frozen in place. 
Harry’s heart pumped hard as he recognized the look in Draco’s eyes. He planted
himself in front of him, his back to the hallway and the adults, shielding
Draco from view. 
“Draco…” he called softly, searching Draco’s cold, haunted eyes, trying to get
the blond to see him.
“Harry?” Narcissa asked, worry in her voice.
Harry shot her a look over his shoulder, his green eyes fierce. “Give him a
minute.” He returned his attention to Draco and made eye contact. He was
determined to wait as long as Draco needed.
“He’s a little nervous,” Lucius’s voice came from behind him. “Let’s give them
a moment. It won’t be long, I’m sure,” he continued, his voice getting softer
as they walked some distance away, but all that disappeared as Draco began to
whisper.
“You died. I watched you die. I killed you.” His voice was completely flat,
without inflection at all. His grey eyes were bleak. 
“Draco?” Harry stepped closer, pressing his chest lightly against the blond’s,
trying to let him know he was here - love worry.
“Pandora…” Draco’s voice trailed off.
Harry bit his lip. Ever since Draco had come back from wherever Pandora had
taken him, he’d had nightmares. At first it was every night, then only a few
times a week. Draco would bolt up-right with a scream and then hold Harry
painfully tight until Draco’s heart stopped pounding and they could go back to
sleep. Harry didn’t know what Draco dreamed or what Pandora had done, but he
did know it was his job to heal Draco, to fix him. 
He very carefully wrapped his arms around Draco’s shoulders and pulled him down
so that his head rested on Harry’s chest. Draco’s hands lifted to grip his
waist painfully hard as he listened to Harry’s heart beat.
“I’m alive, Draco. Yours. Always yours. Love you,” Harry swore and let - LOVE
calm trust- fill him completely.
Draco’s breathing slowed and after two minutes he straightened. He smoothed
Harry’s hair and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I’m okay,” he said softly, his
face still pale.
Harry nodded, but he was on alert, watching Draco like a hawk, ready to
intervene again if needed. 
Narcissa, Andromeda, and Lucius were standing with McLaggen a few feet down the
hallway. The hallway itself was strange. It was narrow and made completely of
black stone. Torches burned with blue flames and were spaced evenly along the
flat, smooth walls. There was a massive grey door at the far end that read:
Department of Mysteries, Enter at Your Own Risk. 
Luckily, they didn’t go down the hallway toward that imposing door. Instead,
they were directed to a door partially hidden by the elevator. There was a
narrow spiral staircase there made out of the same glossy black stone. It led
them to a room that was thin and wide. The wall across from the stairs was
curved, as if they stood outside of a large, circular room. There were chairs
along that curved wall for people to sit and wait if necessary and a door along
the curve to the far right that had massive iron bands.
“It goes to the dungeon,” Andromeda whispered, noticing where the boys were
looking.
McLaggen and Lucius led them to the door in the center of the wall across from
the stairs. Harry’s eyes went wide as they passed through that door into a
large circular room that was nearly three stories tall. Massive columns with a
black base and golden marble pillars on top were placed regularly along the
back of the room. Tiered benches were placed around a deep, low stage in the
center that was inlaid with a gold and black mandala pattern. Two hundred
people filled the room, creating a dull murmur. One section of the benches were
filled with fifty people in the plum-colored robes with the silver W
embroidered on the breast. They also wore triangular hats and nearly all of
them had silver or white hair. The rest of the room was filled with officials
in black with smaller groups of lavender and red-robed people representing
Child Services and the Aurors.
“This is courtroom ten,” Narcissa explained softly as Lucius led them to seats
in the highest, back row near the door. McLaggen continued on to the lowest
level where other red-robed Aurors sat. “It’s the deepest and most protected
courtroom in the Ministry. It’s only been used a few times in the last hundred
years and is reserved for the most high profile cases only.”
Harry’s attention was locked on that cleared stage in the center of the room.
Two black chairs sat there currently empty. Chains hung from them. That’s where
the Durlseys would sit. He swallowed hard and felt Draco’s hand tighten around
his own. Harry forced himself to look at something else. 
In front of the chairs was a tall podium with two shorter podiums on either
side. Dumbledore, in his plum robe, sat in the shorter podium to the right. His
hat was tall and pointed. He also had on heavy silver necklaces with runes
hanging from them. A white-wood staff was propped against his side. Abigail
Abbott stood at the shorter podium on the left in formal lavender robes. She
looked very solemn.
“Those in the plum robes are the Wizengamot,” Lucius explained to Draco in a
low voice, gesturing. “It predates the Ministry of Magic itself, dating back to
the days of the medieval Wizard’s Council. The Wizengamot is made up of around
fifty members. They are nominated by the community and appointed by the
Minister or the Chief Warlock, and once they are appointed they usually hold
that position for life.  They are very respected and influential members of
society. As you can see, Dumbledore wears the chains and has the staff of
office. He is the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. He speaks for them
and has certain powers during court or in the passing of new laws.”
“There in the grey robes is the Court Scribe,” Narcissa pointed out. “She took
a very specialized potion that quiets the ego and strengthens her observation
skills. Her memory will then be extracted and serve as a record of the
proceedings.”
“Next to her in white is the Youth Representative,” Andromeda added. “It is
always someone in their Seventh-year at Hogwarts, usually the Head Boy or
Girl.” She gave them a proud smile. “I once served as the Youth Representative
at a trial during my Seventh-year.”
The door opened and absolute silence descended. The Minister walked down the
stairs, crossed the stage, and took her place at the center podium. Behind her,
Aurors marched Vernon and Petunia Dursley along. They looked spitting mad,
terrified, and dirty. They were very firmly shoved into the chairs and the
chains snapped to life, binding them tightly and causing Petunia to scream
silently, clearly under the effects of a silencing spell.
Harry’s heart instantly began beating hard. He unconsciously shrank in his
seat, trying to become small and invisible. Draco wrapped an arm around him and
pulled him against his side. 
Minister Bagnold clapped her hands. A deep boom filled the room, making the
silence deepen further. Suddenly, the slightly nutty and sweet scent of
cardamom as well as the earthy, herbaceous scent of white sage and the woody
and slightly fruity scent of frankincense lightly filled the room. They were
meant to enhance clarity of thought and wisdom. 
“I call the court into session,” Bagnold intoned, her expression frightening as
light flashed off of her gold-framed glasses. “Shall the one bringing forth the
charges of child abuse please state their case.”
Mrs. Abbott stood. “I was informed by anonymous note that Harry Potter still
had living relatives. I went to the address indicated and found Petunia
Dursley, Lily Evans’ older sister, Mr. Potter’s maternal aunt. I informed her
of Mr. Potter’s return and interviewed her. She became emotional. I interpreted
that emotion as relief and joy that her nephew was found. However, Mr. Potter’s
reaction to the news that he would be returned to Mrs. Dursley’s put into
question his safety in her home. I, therefore, requested a full investigation
by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
“And what was found?” Bagnold asked chillingly.
Auror Scrimgeour stood. “I was appointed lead investigator in this case,
Minister. I found that the Dursleys had fled their home. It took me several
weeks to find them. They had run to a remote island in the hopes they could not
be found. The initial interview was met with violence and hostility, so I
apprehended them and brought them to holding. They have a son Mr. Potter’s age
and I made sure he was put into the care of a blood relative, one Marge
Dursley, Mr. Dursley’s sister.”
“Have they answered to the accusations leveled against them?” Bagnold
continued.
“No, they have not.”
“Very well.” Bagnold stared down at the man and woman before her. “Vernon
Dursley. Petunia Dursley. This is your last chance to offer your memories to
this court in your defense.” She waved her wand, allowing them to speak.
“This is illegal!” Vernon bellowed, face nearly purple. “I have rights! I
demand you release us at once!”
“Our friends and neighbors will notice us missing!” Petunia shrilled fearfully.
“The authorities will be called!”
Bagnold swished her wand once more and the two went silent despite their mouths
still moving. “Let the court acknowledge every chance was given to these two to
answer to the charge of child abuse. I call into evidence the memories of Harry
James Potter.”
McLaggen came forward. He walked past the two Muggles without acknowledging
them, as if they were invisible. 
The Minister lifted a thin silver bowl and let it go. It floated down to
McLaggen and stopped about waist height. He uncorked the vial and poured
Harry’s memories in. The bowl lit up and a shimmering window appeared above it,
nearly as clear as a Muggle movie screen but maybe half its height and width. 
Lucius subtly cast a blinding and deafening charm on Harry. 
Draco met his father’s eyes and nodded, while telling Harry within his mind, *
You’re okay. Focus on me beside you. You’ll be able to see and hear in a
minute. *
Harry turned sideways to cling to Draco’s jacket, pressing his forehead hard
against the blond’s shoulder.
On the screen in front of the court, it showed a two-maybe three-year-old Harry
in a small room with two toddler beds with rails. In the other bed was a
screaming blond boy, red in the face. Baby Harry watched from his bed across
the room as the boy threw a teddy out the window in a rage. The boy then
screamed and cried louder than ever. Petunia opened the door just as Dudley's
screams turned into laughter. His teddy was floating in the air and slowly
dropped into the blond toddler's arms. 
Rage and fear distorted Petunia’s features as she rushed across the room and
slapped the small, dark-haired child across the face. "You little freak! Don't
you dare taint Dudley with that vile freakishness!"
Harry - shocked, afraid, hurt - began crying.
Petunia was further enraged and yanked him from his bed. Harry's screams
sharpened as his shoulder visibly dislocated. Yelling hysterically about
Harry's vileness and freakishness, she searched the house frantically for a
place to put him. Then she saw the cupboard under the stairs. Petunia threw it
open and tossed the boy inside. The memory became blackness filled with the
frightened and painful sobbing of a baby.
A jump in the image, a skip in sound… The room was deathly still and silent.
Petunia looked as pale as a ghost, but Vernon’s expression remained furious. To
react with such violence and fear toward a child’s first act of magic was
blasphemous in Wizarding culture.
The darkness was broken with a painful flood of light as the cupboard door
opened. Petunia stood there with a horrible glare. "Freak, get out here and
help me."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry answered, his voice barely over a whisper.
"You can't help like that, idiot! Go get cleaned up and quickly!"
Harry rushed to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later all the grime and dust was
scrubbed from his skin. There was no sign of physical abuse, but the audience
could see that Harry was stick thin. He pulled on his over-large, worn clothes
and hurried passed the cupboard and into the kitchen.
Petunia stared at him with cold eyes. ”Go over there and make the batter."
Harry rushed to do as she said. He had to carry a step-stool from the kitchen
closet to the counter where there was a bowl, a stirring spoon, and cake
ingredients. Even with the step-stool he wasn’t quite tall enough, so he had to
struggle to do the task she’d assigned, but he did it with relatively practiced
hands and without complaint, his head ducked submissively all the while. 
“You're disgusting, you know that, freak?” Petunia asked coldly, watching him
as he worked. “Can't do anything right. Just like your filthy parents. Died
just to get away from you, most likely.”
Harry’s little hands began to shake and some of the egg mix slopped out of the
bowl.
“Don't spill, freak!” she shrieked. 
Big tears rolled down his cheeks, but Harry did his best to steady the bowl. 
“Can't do a bloody thing right! The least you can do is listen, boy! Your no
good, filthy mother couldn't listen, and you're just like her! Hold that bowl
and stir! Pathetic muling worm!”
Harry was crying too hard to do as she’d ordered and helplessly pulled his arms
in close to his chest so that the didn’t make a mess.
“Don’t you dare cry! It's your own fault, you filthy little brat!”
She picked up her broom and swatted him violently, knocking him off the stool
and onto the floor. She continued to hit him with the stiff, scratchy bristles
until he scrambled back into the hallway and into his cupboard. Again, she
slammed the door and the memory ended in darkness.
A jump in the image, a skip in sound… Dark murmurs swept the room. Vernon was
yanking on his chains as if he were trying to get free. Petunia had begun to
weep.
The memory began with the same flood of light as the cupboard was opened. This
time Petunia demanded Harry clean up after Vernon before she stomped up the
stairs and a bedroom door slammed. It was night and an even thinner Harry
crawled out of the cupboard and went into the living room where a drunk Vernon
was breathing hard in anger, slumped in an armchair. He had a glass of amber
liquid in his hand. His face was red and shinny, his eyes dark.
“They think they can skip me for the promotion, do they?” he muttered to
himself. “I’ll make them regret it! You just wait and see!” Suddenly his eyes
focused on the trembling boy pressed against the wall. “Freak! This is your
fault, freak! I bet you cursed us!”
He threw his glass and it shattered against the wall inches from the small
child’s head. Harry’s cheek began to bleed as glass cut him and he immediately
dropped to his knees, clearly cutting them, to begin to pick up the glass.
Vernon spewed more anger and hate, not even making sense. By the time he
managed to get on his feet, the glass had been cleaned and Harry was trying to
use a towel to soak up the alcohol from the carpet. The fat man staggered over
to the boy and stared down at him hatefully, swaying.
“Teach you to mess with my affairs!” he slurred and clumsily tugged his belt
off his waist. He wrapped it around his fist and began to bring it violently
down on the frail child. 
The boy made not a sound as he was beaten. Fortunately, Vernon’s blows were
sloppy, but a few solid hits landed on the child’s shoulders and back. The
painful crack of leather against skin echoed through the courtroom.
A jump in the image, a skip in sound… The crowd roared with fury. Bagnold and
Dumbledore had to work together to create a Silencer wide enough and strong
enough to cover them so that the last of the memories could be heard.
Images of Harry on his hands and knees scrubbing with chemicals that visibly
burned the child’s hands… Of Harry working in the yard to the point of fainting
from weakness and heat exhaustion… Of Petunia beating him with a hot spatula
when Harry burnt the bacon… and finally the memory of being sold…
They were in the kitchen. Petunia at the stove, Dudley at the table, and Harry
sitting in the corner next to the garbage can. 
“Go get your bag for school, Duddykins, and wash your face, love,” Petunia told
her son.
Dudley beamed at his mother before running out of the room.
“Wash the floor, freak,” Petunia growled at the poor boy.
Harry scrambled over to the sink and reached underneath for the cleaning
supplies. He quickly began to scrub the floor. Dudley had returned by the time
he was done, and Harry scrambled back toward the cupboard only to be drawn-up
short by a meaty fist.
“Not today, boy. You’re coming with me.” 
Vernon practically dragged Harry to the front door by his arm. He took Harry
toward the back end of the car. The trunk lid was lifted and Harry had a look
of absolute terror on his face. Vernon grabbed the tiny boy by the neck and
lifted him completely off the ground, choking him.
“Keep your mouth shut, boy. You’re a worthless piece of shit, you filthy freak.
No one wants to hear from you.”
The memory went dark and there was a very brief skip…
Vernon opened the trunk and Harry was dragged out by his arm. It clearly hurt
the child. “You’d better be good, freak, or you’ll regret it.”
Harry nodded vigorously and was set to his feet. He followed his uncle toward
another car across the empty parking lot. Men climbed out of the car and they
talked to Vernon. 
“No one wants the freak. No one’ll come looking,” Vernon assured them. 
“Let’s hope you’re right because we’ll come back if it ain’t so,” one of the
men said and handed over a duffel bag. 
Vernon opened it and it was filled with money. “Good riddance,” he muttered and
quickly turned back to his car without once looking at the little boy he’d
sold.
Harry tried to follow, a look of bleak devastation on the his painfully young
face, but a strong arm wrapped around his middle and lifted him up. Harry
grabbed onto the man so he wouldn’t fall.
“You’re coming with us, kid,” the man said gruffly.
“W-wait…” Harry stuttered in that soft, barely there voice he had as that arm
pressed on his bladder. He was ignored and warm tears spilled down his cheeks
as he peed himself.
The man dropped him, face red with rage. “What the fuck!”
Harry’s whole body was jarred as he hit the hard concrete. A kick slammed into
his chest, his body flying several feet.
The memory went black…
The room was in a fury. Men and women were on their feet, their fists waved in
the air, their faces contorted in rage. 
Lucius wanted those filthy animals dead. 
Narcissa felt like her insides had broken and all the uneven pieces were
grinding against each other, sending splinters of ice and rage through her very
soul. 
Andromeda sat frozen, a primal rage in her face. 
However, none of them looked remotely as scary as Draco. The little blond’s
eyes had gone silver. His face seemed etched from ice, all hard angles and
hunger. His hand ever so gently cradled the back of Harry’s head to his
shoulder as he bared his teeth in a ferocious, deadly smile. 
“Is there…” Bagnold could hardly speak past her shock and fury. “Is there
anything you’d like to say in your defense?” She sharply waved her wand and
allowed the two criminals to speak.
“WE NEVER WANTED THE FREAK!” Vernon bellowed furiously. “He was a burden and a
monster! Floating things and making freaky stuff happen! We’re good, normal
people! WHO THOUGHT TO GIVE A FREAK LIKE HIM TO A NORMAL FAMILY LIKE US?”
“What were we supposed to do?” Petunia echoed her husband, sobbing. “He could
do ANYTHING to us! He could kill us in our sleep like that beast who killed my
sister! He could burn the house down around our ears! WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO
DO WITH HIM?”
“Not abuse him,” she snapped back before taking a deep breath to calm herself.
Draco reached over to touch Lucius’s arm and gestured at Harry’s head. Lucius
nodded and lifted the spell so that Harry could hear and see once more. Big
green eyes blinked quickly as they tried to adjust to the sudden light.
Bagnold clapped her hands, creating a boom that quieted the angry crowd. “I
call the court to vote. A show of hands if you find the accused guilty of child
abuse!”
Every single hand in the room went up. Petunia began to cry loudly, still
asking them what she should have done. Vernon, however, had some things to say.
“You can’t judge me! You’re nothing but a bunch of freaks! You aren’t even
human! Just wait until my government finds out about you! They’ll make sure
you’re wiped off the face of the planet! We should have burned the little
freak! We should burn you all at the stake!” he roared hatefully, spit flying
from his lips.”
Bagnold silenced the man and his wife. Gravely, he asked, “A show of hands if
you find them innocent.”
Not a single hand was raised. 
“Then I find Vernon Dursley and his wife Petunia Dursely GUILTY!” the Minister
declared and the crowd roared in approval. 
Harry squirmed - upset confused guilty - as he watched Vernon and Petunia
struggle against the chairs clearly terrified. Draco shushed him and began
petting his hair.
Bagnold clapped her hands and the boom made the room reluctantly quiet. “I
order the Obliviators to ensure the Dursleys can only tell the truth and
release them into the custody of the Aurors who will ensure they face just
punishment at the hands of Muggle law enforcement.”
“Ahem.”
Bagnold looked over to see a black clad Cornelius Fudge standing among the
officials to the left of her. “I recognize Cornelius Fudge, Head of the
Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.” 
Cornelius gave a smile. “Thank you, Minister. I would like to suggest that such
a punishment does not fit the heinousness of this crime. We have a lobby full
of people who will not tolerate Harry Potter’s abusers simply being held in a
Muggle prison. They deserve a punishment of equal severity to the acts they
have committed.”
A roar of approval exploded through the room. 
Bagnold had to clap her hands twice before everyone quieted down. “All in favor
of an alternate punishment raise your hand.”
A good majority of hands went up, including Lucius, Andromeda, Narcissa, and
Draco. Dumbledore’s hand remained down and he had a frown on his face. A good
half of the Wizengamot followed his example and kept their hands in their laps.
“An alternate punishment passes,” Bagnold announced. “What punishment are you
suggesting, Cornelius?” 
“I suggest a life sentence in Azkaban,” he declared. 
A loud murmur rose as everyone considered the fate of the two Muggles in such a
place. It was essentially a torturous death sentence.
“I recommend a total memory erase,” Mrs. Abbott stood up and suggested gravely.
“They should start their lives over and hopefully make better use of it in the
time they have left to them.”
“I recommend the Dementor’s Kiss!” an elderly man from the Wizengamot cried.
“What they did to Harry Potter is unforgivable and their actions should be
treated the same as the frequent use of an Unforgivable Curse! The punishment
for which is the Kiss!”
As the courtroom yelled in shock and approval, Dumbledore stood. A hush slowly
defended as he grabbed his staff and came down to the center of the floor near
where Petunia and Vernon continued to struggle in magically induced silence.
“Good people,” he began, voice reaching to every corner of the room. “I implore
you to think past the anger of seeing young Harry Potter’s past. I implore you
to remember Harry is well cared for, loved, and protected in the homes of Lord
and Lady Malfoy and Mrs. Tonks. He has a twin and a rare magical bond. He is a
happy, healthy boy. These people are despicable, their actions deplorable, but
they were unable to destroy Mr. Potter. They were unable to break his spirit.”
Draco felt like hissing like a furious cat. What the hell did this man know
about Harry’s spirit? Like hell those animals down there in those chairs hadn’t
broken him! Harry had shattered and had nearly become an Obscurus! It was Draco
who put together all those broken pieces. It was Draco who held back the
darkness instilled by those evil bastards! Draco couldn’t bare to live knowing
the ones who had hurt Harry, tortured him mind and soul, would continue
breathing as if what they had done was acceptable. 
Dumbledore turned in a circle, making eye contact with everyone in the court.
“Harry was saved, ladies and gentlemen. He has put this evil behind him. We do
not need to add to that darkness by breaking with the letter of the law and
adding more evil and suffering to the tale. I implore all of you to reconsider
and be satisfied with the justice of having these people judged and condemned
by their own society. Let them feel the sting of hatred from their own people,
locked away and deplored for their actions by their peers. You do not want
their death or injury to mar young Harry’s heart. It is our job to protect him
from further pain not inflict more upon him! I implore you to vote to release
them into Muggle custody!”
As murmurs rose from the court, a few people began clapping. Draco nearly
growled. He could see that Lucius was just as appalled. Narcissa grew
dangerously blank-faced while Andromeda placed a supportive hand on Harry’s
shoulder. Harry was panting, wide-eyed and confused. Draco held him tightly,
but everything was growing too intense as the arguments continued and the court
grew louder and more contentious.
Bagnold clapped, calling for silence as Dumbledore returned to his place at his
podium. “We have four sentences presented to this court: life in Azkaban, a
total memory-erase, the Dementor’s Kiss, and returning the Dursleys to the
Muggle world to be imprisoned. I will allow each presenter a few minutes to
argue their case before I make my decision. Cornelius, if you would?”
Fudge stood and came to stand by the prisoners, following Dumbledore’s example.
He cleared his throat, his eye caught Lucius’s up in the highest row and he
flushed. “Yes. Thank you, Minister. The trouble is that Muggle prison is far
from uncomfortable. It is true that their freedom would be constrained and they
would face judgement from society, however they would also receive regular
meals, access to activity outside, and given an occupation during the day. It’s
not pleasant by any means, but neither is it truly terrible. On the other hand,
Azkaban was designed by our forefathers as a place that would truly punish
those who have committed evil. It is the only place such corrupt souls can
truly be made to understand the pain they have inflicted on others. We must
remember everything that Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, has sacrificed for the
good of our world. We must take responsibility and see true justice done!”
A rousing cheer went up at his words and he beamed happily as he took his
seat. 
Bagnold waited several minutes for the court to quiet down. “Thank you,
Cornelius.” Her eyes went to Abbott’s. “Department Head Abbott, why do you
support a total memory erase?”
Abigail stood where she sat, choosing not take the floor as Dumbledore and
Fudge had done. Still, her voice was clear and strong. “These people have
committed unforgivable acts against an innocent child. A mind-erase would erase
the personality that had committed such horrible crimes and give these souls a
chance to redeem themselves in this life just as Mr. Potter was given a second
chance at a happy childhood. Chief Warlock Dumbledore spoke well. The Dursleys’
suffering will not change what they have done. All we can do is try and protect
the future. Erasing their memories would do that without burdening Mr. Potter
further.”
No one clapped as she took her seat.
“Thank you, Mrs. Abbott.” Bagnold looked to the group of plum-robed members.
“Lord Ogden, what do you have to say for your proposed action?”
The elderly man slowly made his way down the stairs to the center floor. He had
shoulder-length white, wavy hair, brown eyes, and a furious glare. “I’ve seen
cases where children have been beaten and cursed within an inch of their life.
I’ve seen parents call their offspring every vile word in the book and seen
children disowned. I’ve even seen cases where children have been raped,” he
began, his voice like thunder as he stared down at the Dursleys. “I’ve seen
cases where parents have murdered their own children, but NEVER in my life have
I seen two people despise a child so thoroughly. Even the most vile abusers
valued their children more than you did Harry Potter. Your UNRELENTING hatred
was monstrous! That boy was constantly dehumanized and treated worse than a
slave! To do that to a child… and to one as young as Mr. Potter was in your
care…” Ogden reached out and slapped first Vernon and then Petunia. The hits
were given with his full strength and left their cheeks burning red. “The Kiss
is the only thing you deserve.” He spat at their feet, fury in his eyes, and
then turned and made his way back up the stairs. 
For a long moment there was silence and then a loud, roaring cheer exploded
throughout the court. 
Draco was grinning, blood-lust in his eyes. He wanted to scream his approval.
He vowed to remember Ogden. He would not forget the words the man spoke on
Harry’s behalf.
“Silence!” Bagnold boomed, clapping her hands several times. “Silence.” 
It took many minutes but eventually the noise died down. The Minister opened
her mouth, likely to ask them to vote, but Dumbledore stood once more. He
leaned on his staff, his blue eyes piercing as he swept the crowd.
“Before the Minister calls for the vote,” he intoned gravely. “I’d like to ask
Mr. Potter if he’d like to speak as this crime was made against him.” 
There were gasps, as the majority of the room had not realized Harry was
there. 
Tears rolled down Harry’s cheeks - panic confusion fear -swamping the bond. He
pressed himself hard against Draco’s side and underneath the blond’s sheltering
arm. He stared unblinking back at Dumbledore, struck completely mute. Even had
he wanted to talk, he was physically unable to. Simple decisions sent him into
a panic attack. One this significant was nearly enough to make him snap
completely, but Draco was there and his presence was hot and heavy against his
mind, keeping him relatively calm. - Draco owned him. He was Draco’s. Draco
would take care of him. -He focused on that over the thunder of his own
heartbeat and held on.
For Draco, the room took on crystal clarity the way it had when he’d been
pushed to his breaking point by Raymond in the Hold. He stood, pushing Harry
into Narcissa’s arms without ever removing his gaze from Dumbledore’s form. He
stood, tall and proud, his whole bearing projecting authority. 
“How dare you,” he said lowly. He stared Dumbledore down for a long moment
before his crystal gaze found Ogden. “Thank you, sir. You are the only adult
here who truly respects my twin.” His eyes turned to sweep the gathered court.
“From the beginning, this trash has been treated with respect while you have
treated Harry as if he were worthless.”
Draco’s voice, high and clear as a bell, sliced through the rising murmurs of
denial. “You did not pull the truth from their minds even though they ran from
your questions! Even though they have shown you their anger and hate! Instead
you called Harry here to relive those horrible memories. You claimed it was for
justice. As if Harry should have to pay for it! As if it’s not due him! You sit
there arguing over their futures as if they deserve one after completely
destroying Harry’s!”
Dumbledore opened his mouth, but Draco slashed his hand violently in warning,
causing the old man to pause.
Glaring and fierce, Draco exclaimed, “Harry had no future after these
disgusting animals got through with him! It was our bond that saved him; it was
LUCK! Had he been left on his own, sold and broken, Harry WOULD have died.” 
Turning his piercing glare to the Minister, Draco challenged her. “You’ve
protected these animals, cared about them and their rights even as you watched
them break Harry down until he was barely able to speak. On top of that, you
allow your Chief Warlock to put the responsibility back on Harry’s shoulders.
As if giving his memories and watching this continue isn’t burden enough, you
force Harry to have to beg for justice.” Eyes flashing to Dumbledore, he
accused, “Or was your intent to shame him for needing it?” 
Facing the members of the court, he flung his arms wide and yelled proudly,
“Well, I am not afraid. I am not ashamed! I demand our rights not the rights of
vicious child abusers be respected and acknowledged! I, Draco Malfoy, magical
twin of Harry James Potter, do hereby call for the DEATHS of Petunia Dursley
and Vernon Dursley for the monstrous abuse they inflicted on Harry, Boy-Who-
Lived and Savior of the Wizarding World! That is our answer. What is yours?”
Whispers erupted as Draco continued to stand there and challenged both the
Minister and Dumbledore. 
- confusion terror -
* They treated you bad because you’re special. Just like I’m special. Remember,
Harry? That’s why we can kiss and you can heal me. I’m like you and they would
treat me like that. They would hurt me and put me in the dark. Like they did
you. I have to show them that I won’t allow it. I won’t let them put us in the
dark! *
- protectiveness anxiety fear need -Harry pulled free from Narcissa’s embrace
and helplessly reached for Draco’s back, not daring to actually touch him. 
Without looking, Draco reached his hand back. Harry took it eagerly and was
pulled to his feet. Draco positioned him so that he was facing outward, his
back held firmly to Draco’s chest. The blond wrapped him in a tight embrace
that didn’t let him take a full breath. 
Harry stared down at his aunt and uncle, short of breath and wild-eyed. He
didn’t understand why everyone was upset. He was a filthy Freak. It’s normal to
hate Freaks like him. BUT! But he was more than a Freak now. He was Draco’s.
Draco loved him though he didn’t deserve it at all. Draco was amazing and
bright and smart and strong and beautiful. Harry would not let ANYONE put Draco
in the dark!
“I won’t let you hurt Draco,” Harry whispered madly, green eyes beginning to
glow. “Draco said die.” 
Draco’s eyes widened as he felt the surge of blackness in Harry’s magical core.
Harry’s magic was strong and gentle and healing, but there was a core of
insane, destructive darkness tucked away deep down where all the pain and self-
hatred lived and it was about to explode. Harry had been pushed too far today.
Draco felt the sting of anger at himself for getting carried away and not
realizing how close Harry was to snapping. He had seconds to act or the whole
of the court would see just how close to an Obscurus Harry had become.
Draco spun them around as the torches in the room fluttered, the whole room
going dim and dark. An oppressive, ominous weight pressed down on them all. A
woman screamed. Draco forced Harry to his knees and curled over the boy’s back,
his arms still wrapped around the smaller boy. He pulled Harry’s hair hard,
yanking his head to the side and exposing his throat. He bit down on the
juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder, making Harry gasp and go limp.
* Good boy. That’s it. Let it all go. I’m here. I’ll take care of you. Trust
me, Harry. Be still and trust me. I’ve got this. I’ll tell you when to act. Do
what I say, Harry. Prove you’re mine… *
His voice trailed off as he felt Harry’s darkness retreat as the boy forced it
back under Draco’s mental chains. He was completely limp by this point and
sobbing, saying sorry again and again. Draco carefully loosened his jaw and
released Harry from the painful bite. A little blood rose up under Harry’s
white shirt where Draco’s canines had pierced his skin.
- remorse fear self-hate trust -
* I’m going to make you sleep. I’ll take care of you when you wake up, *Draco
promised. 
Harry nodded weakly, the bond throbbing with - gratitude remorse love anxiety.
“Put him to sleep,” Draco rasped, voice hoarse. He looked up into his mother’s
eyes, pain darkening them to a stormy grey. 
Narcissa obediently cast a Stupefy and Harry folded unconscious over the seat. 
“Take us home?” Draco asked and clumsily pulled himself up to sit on the bench
next to Harry. He barely noticed the obscuring curtain around them so that the
court could not see or hear them clearly. He looked over to Lucius. “Tell me
the results when you get home.”
“I will,” Lucius promised solemnly, eyes filled with emotion as he acknowledged
his son’s pain and exhaustion.
Narcissa glanced at her sister. “Would you cast a Lightening Charm?”
Andromeda, pale-faced, did as asked. She said nothing as Narcissa pulled
Harry’s sleeping body into her arms, the boy’s legs hanging around her waist,
his head balanced on her shoulder. One of her arms supported Harry’s butt, the
other was placed securely across his back, her hand supporting his head. Draco
followed closely at her heals. Andromeda chose to stay with Lucius and watch
the rest of the trail.
As soon as Narcissa and the boys left the room, the door shutting behind them,
a roar erupted as people began to shout and argue. Dumbledore was speaking to
the Wizengoamot and Fudge was arguing with some of the black-clad wizards
representing the Ministry. Vernon and Petunia sat still and silent, the fight
having left them. No one spoke to Lucius or Andromeda. They sat stone-faced
while waiting for the verdict. 
Minister Bagnold also sat in silence, ignoring all the noise. She waited for
nearly half an hour before the noise began to die down and then clapped her
hands. “I call the court to order!” she yelled. “Silence!” 
The room became silent and those standing retook their seats. 
“We’ve had enough time to deliberate. It is time to place our votes. I will ask
those of you in favor of life in Azkaban to raise your hand.” Hands rose and
the Minister dutifully counted them. It took her a few minutes. She confirmed
the number with Dumbledore and Abbott. “Please note there were eighty-four
hands raised,” she intoned. 
“I will ask those in favor of turning the Dursleys over to Muggle justice to
raise their hands.” A significantly fewer number of hands lifted, mostly those
in lavender and a few in plum-colored robes. “Please note twenty-nine hands
were raised.”
“I will now ask those of you in favor of a total mind erase to raise their
hands.” No hands were lifted, not even Abbott’s. She had voted for Muggle
justice, convinced by Dumbledore’s speech. “Please note no hands were lifted.
“Finally, I would like you to raise your hand if you are in favor of the
Dementor’s Kiss.” Again a large number of hands were lifted in the air. Again
Bagnold counted and confirmed the number with both Dumbledore and Abbott before
announcing it. “Please note eighty-seven hands were raised.”
Minister Bagnold stood and stared down at the man and woman chained before her.
“I hereby sentence Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursely to the Dementor’s Kiss.”
A slow but steady clapping started as the court signaled their approval. 
Bagnold looked out at all of them. “Those of the court who wishes to absent
themselves while the sentence is carried out may leave at this time. However, I
ask those of you who voted yes to remain and witness your justice. If at any
time before the Kiss has been given three of your number change their minds,
the sentence will be revoked and the condemned will be sentenced instead to
life in Azkaban.”
As if Lucius or Andromeda would miss it. They sat triumphant and did not
acknowledge the fifty or so court members who trickled out of the room. 
Conversations started up as everyone waited. Lucius, Andromeda, Bagnold, and
Dumbledore remained aloof and silent. In just under an hour, five Aurors
escorted a magically leashed Dementor into the room. Instantly the temperature
dropped. Everyone clumped together in fear as the creature glided past. The
echoes of moans could just be heard if you listened hard enough and the faint
sound of a never-ending in-drawn breath. Death and despair spread from its
unholy form as it drifted over to the two Muggles screaming helplessly within
their chains, their voices Silenced. They could not see the dark creature
creeping ever closer, but they could feel it. 
Lucius watched avidly as the dementor chose Petunia first. He noticed from the
corner of his eyes as many court members looked away. A few men and women had
begun to silently cry. A skeletal hand wrapped around the woman’s face and
pressed down on her jaw, forcing her to open her mouth wider than was natural,
dislocating it. The cloaked figure then bent down and began to suck. A light as
small as a pebble began to lift up her throat and out of her mouth, devoured by
the heartless creature. Petunia fell slack, her eyes dull and empty, her jaw
hanging uselessly with drool already trickling out of the corners of her
mouth. 
Vernon was next and it went the same as it had with his wife. It was done.
The Aurors immediately leapt forward and leashed the dementor once more,
leading it from the room. It remained deathly silent; the chill lingered. Some
could not look at the drooling, empty wrecks left behind. Others couldn’t tear
their eyes away. A very solemn Minister stood and looked down at the now
mindless, soulless Muggles. 
“Today was a dark day indeed,” she said quietly into the perfect silence.
“Justice has been served.” She turned to McLaggen who stood blank-faced by her
podium. “Chief McLaggen, please escort these people to Dursley’s sister. She
will have to arrange for their future care or not as she so chooses.”
“Yes, Minister.” McLaggen gave a bow. When he straightened, he gestured for a
few of his Aurors to assist him and they guided the Dursleys from the room.
Lucius was very careful to watch them as they walked passed. He knew Draco
would want to see every last detail when he reviewed Lucius’s memory. He was
also careful to note the expressions of the court members as they left the
room. He made sure to give Lord Ogden a respectful nod. The man had a look of
grim satisfaction on his face that Lucius was certain was mirrored on his face.
Finally, the room was empty and he rose to his feet. Andromeda followed him
silently. 
The lobby was a mess as reporters and civilians bombarded those leaving the
Ministry with near feverish questions. They had seen Narcissa as she carried an
unconscious Harry past and towing a blank-faced Draco. Over an hour later, the
empty shells of the Dursleys had been escorted out. Now the grim court members
had finally begun to leave. They wanted answers and their would be riots if
they didn’t get them. 
Lucius didn’t stop to listen to Minister Bagnold finish her speech, informing
the public of the guilty verdict and the decision reached after reviewing the
evidence to sentence the Muggles to the Kiss. He would read all about it in the
paper, he was sure. Plus, he wanted to get home and tell Draco the good news.
Today they had won.
Chapter end.
A/N:I look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter. It was
difficult to write.
 
***** Surprises and Answers *****
A/N: Really important chapter. Lots of reveals and surprises in store. If you
guys haven't checked out Pixi56 lately, more art of Harry and Draco has been
added. It's so brilliant! Do me a favor and leave comments and kudos if you
have a moment. I'm so excited to see more from Pixie. :D
Surprises and Answers
Draco sat with his back to the headboard, Harry’s head in his lap. He’d had all
night to come to terms with what had happened at the trial. Lucius had returned
and used a pensieve to show him memories of what had happened after Draco had
left. He’d been spared the dementor’s effects, but they had been scary enough
just by looking at them that Draco was impressed. He had seen death and knew
it, and regardless of the Dursleys still walking around and breathing, they
were dead. Honestly, he hadn’t really expected the court to give him even that
much, but now it was done. He’d have to be satisfied because he had other
things to worry about. Like the boy in his lap.
A soft whimper reached his ears just as Harry’s emotions grew sharper - misery
need anxiety. Green eyes blinked open, already wet with tears. Another whimper
escaped him.
“Shhh,” Draco soothed, scratching lightly at Harry’s scalp. It was the first
time he’d awoken since being spelled by Andromeda. “Shhh. It’s over, Harry. The
Dursleys are done. They’re dead. They won’t hurt us ever again.”
Images poured into Harry’s mind of his time with the Dursleys, but what hit him
most was the certainty that he was dirty and an overwhelming loneliness. Guilt
was there, too, and the horrible feeling that the Dursleys suffered because of
him, just as they had always said they would. He was a monster; he was evil.
Draco ached with Harry’s pain as the boy curled up and buried his face in
Draco’s lap, sobbing. Draco stroked him and pet him and whispered all sorts of
things into his mind and ears. That he loved him, that he was good, that Harry
was his now and forever, but Harry continued to weep. He cried for hours. Draco
sank deep in the emotions flowing through the bond. He sensed that Harry didn’t
need punishment, not exactly, but he wasn’t responding to Draco’s gentle
approach, either.
“What do you need, Harry?” he asked in a desperate whisper, but that only made
Harry curl up in - despair.
Beyond frustrated, Draco slipped out from under his boy and left him in the
dark of their room crying on the bed alone. He practically ran outside. He ran
all the way to the woods, tilted his head back and screamed. Draco screamed
until his throat was raw and he couldn’t breathe. He screamed until he
collapsed to his knees. Frustrated and angry, he pounded his fist against the
dirt. What the hell was he supposed to do? WHAT? 
Harry’s unrelenting - grief self-hate anxiety remorse terror need- scratched
against his mind while the echoes of the boy’s soft cries rang in his ears.
Draco screamed hoarsely one last time and sat back on his heels. This wasn’t
getting him anywhere! He had to get it together. Layla… What had Layla taught
him? She'd taught him how to open his mind to other worlds. Harry’s world
wasn’t like Draco’s. It was totally different. It was a completely different
reality. He had to try and put himself there if he was ever going to understand
what Harry needed.
A soft pop and a tentative call of, “Young master?”, reached his ears.
Lowering his head, he took his eyes off the canopy above him to see Dobby
standing nervously in front of him.
“I’m sorry to be interrupting Young master, but Master be asking if Young
master and Harry Potter be coming to dinner, sir?” Big lime green eyes peered
at him anxiously. “Is you’s hurt, Young master sir?”
“No,” Draco answered hoarsely. “And we’re not going to dinner. I’ll call for a
tray later. We’ll eat in our room.”
Dobby gave an awkward bow. “Yes, Young master. Whenever you’s be wanting a tray
just ask!”
“Dobby, wait…” Eyes long gone silver, Harry’s throbbing distress and need
pounding away like a second heart in his chest, he tilted his head and
considered the creature before him. “Dobby, would you ever want to hurt Lucius
or Narcissa?”
Dobby gasped and grabbed his ears in shock. “Never, sir! Dobby would never…!”
Draco waved his hand, cutting off his frantic words. “I’m not saying you would,
but Harry’s feeling really upset right now and I think you can help me
understand him. Just answer as best as you can, okay?”
The little creature grinned. “Of course, sir! Dobby will always help Harry
Potter, sir!”
“I’m your master now, too, right, Dobby?” Draco continued, watching the elf’s
expression carefully.
“Yes, sir!”
“So what if Lucius and Narcissa were really mean to you and I hated them
because of it. What if I said you were mine alone and had them killed?”
Dobby’s mouth fell open in horrified shock. He shifted uncomfortably, grimacing
as he obediently thought about Draco’s scenario. Draco never looked away,
silently demanded an answer. Dobby’s spindly legs and arms fidgeted some more
before he finally began to speak.
“Dobby would feel like a bad elf, Young master,” he whispered. “Dobby would
feel bad for making you kill your parents. Dobby would never let them die, but
Dobby would want to do as you said. It would be very scary, Young master!”
“Yes, I got that already,” Draco snapped furiously, grabbing the elf by the
shoulder and shaking him. “But what would make you feel better?”
Dobby blinked his eyes twice. “I’s be scared I’s lose you the way I did Master
and Lady, Young master. Dobby would want the bond tight. Dobby would want to
feel like I’s couldn’t have helped Master and Lady even though Dobby wanted to.
Because Young master is my true Master and anything for Master is okay.”
Frustrated with not being able to explain, Dobby grabbed his ears once more,
pulling on them hard. “Dobby doesn’t know, Young master Draco! I’s sorry!”
“No…” Draco slowly let him go, eyes unfocused as he listened again to Harry’s
heart. “No… I think I know… I know what he might need…”
Without looking back, he climbed to his feet and made his way back to the
manor. Narcissa saw him on the stairs, but he ignored her. He very firmly shut
the door to their rooms. 
The sounds of Harry’s weak sobs reached his ears and he strode toward the
darkened bedroom. He didn’t acknowledge Harry in any way. He simply went into
the closet and began to gather the things he’d need. All these thoughts were
swirling in his head: Layla, Jess and Drey, Brendon, Liam, and even Raymond.
Things he’d heard and seen, even in passing collided into inspiration. 
“Harry. Kneel in front of the window, facing it, just as you are. No clothes,”
he ordered. 
Harry lifted his head from his damp pillow. He felt completely exhausted, but
he would not disobey Draco. Images from the court wouldn’t leave him alone:
Uncle and Aunt, suffering because of him; everyone mad because he was a Freak.
Draco had wanted him to do something really important, but he’d gotten it
wrong. Now Uncle and Aunt were dead like Brendon. He felt so lost and horrible,
but he knew he couldn’t kill himself. Draco still wanted him for some reason.
He was Draco’s. He’d learned that lesson well.
“Harry,” Draco snapped, putting bite into his tone.
Harry jumped. He realized he was standing at the window, looking blindly out.
Draco had wanted him to kneel! He was so bad! He couldn’t do anything right! He
was an ugly, awful Freak! Draco really shouldn’t want him…. His thoughts
continued to pull him down into darkness even as he dropped to his knees as
Draco had ordered.
“Sit on your heels, toes on the floor, feet flexed. Put your hands behind you
so your hands are by your feet and your arms are straight.” 
Draco stepped forward and took up one of his scarfs. He tied it tightly around
Harry’s wrists and then tied his wrists to his ankles. He felt Harry’s
shoulders with his hands. They weren’t too tight. The scarf wasn’t tight enough
to cut off blood, either. Good.
Harry’s head had come up from it’s defeated bow, the sensation of being tied
breaking through the darkness of his thoughts.
“Don’t move,” Draco ordered, tucking his hair behind his ears as he gazed down
at his boy. Harry was still crying, but it wasn’t as loud. He was hearing him.
“You’re going to sit there, unable to move, because I asked you to, Harry.
That’s all you need to do, and I’ll be happy because it shows you’re mine.” 
He pet Harry’s hair once and then left him briefly to grab a book. Once he got
the book he wanted, he climbed into the bed and called for Dobby. The elf
appeared in an instant, ready to serve.
“Can you light the candles, Dobby? All of them. I want to read,” he ordered. He
also wanted to see even the faintest tremors in Harry’s body. Dobby snapped his
fingers and it was so. “Thank you. I’ll call when I’m ready to eat.”
“Yes, Young master sir,” the elf answered, never once looking at Harry tied up,
naked, his back to the room.
Draco read a few chapters, checking on Harry frequently. At first Harry
continued to shake and dark emotions continued to saturate the bond. Slowly,
however, Harry’s shoulders began to relax.  His back loosened up, his breathing
became easier, and through the bond came relief. His breathing calmed. But as
the second hour neared, Draco watched intently as Harry’s muscles began to grow
tight with strain from being held in that position. He began trembling again,
but Harry was no longer crying. He was staring out the window, his emotions
calm and muted. Sweat glistened on his skin. Draco snapped the book closed and
Harry didn’t even jump. He was deep in his mind.
Padding up behind his boy, Draco gently stroked his hair. * You’re a good boy,
Harry. You’re mine. *He gently rubbed his hands over Harry’s warm shoulders,
his arms, and unbound his wrists. “Stand and face me.”
Harry mutely climbed to his feet, clumsy and unsteady as blood flowed more
freely and his muscles slowly unclenched. His eyes were peaceful, but
underneath that peace the dark emotions still waited. Harry needed more.
Draco stared deep into his eyes, inches from Harry’s face. “I killed the
Dursleys because I had to. It wasn’t up to you. It was my decision to make and
I don’t want you worrying about it.”
Harry’s peace trembled. Tears welled up once more - sorrow confusion regret
trust love.
“You’re mine now, Harry. You’re such a good boy for me. Holding these poses.
Listening to me. You make me happy. You take care of me.”
Harry’s mouth opened, but his throat was too dry to speak. His - doubt
confusion NEED- said what he was thinking for him, though.
Draco gently touched the boy’s tear-stained cheek. “You’re taking care of me by
listening. By showing me how much you trust me. How much you love me. You give
yourself to me and that makes me so happy…” He stared a moment more into
Harry’s eyes before dropping his hand and stepping back. “Now I want you to
lift your hands up like this…”
He gently put Harry’s hands up to shoulder level with his elbows bent. The same
gesture for when someone points a gun at you. He tied the scarf around one
wrist and then tied it around Harry’s throat, and then connected it to the
other wrist. If Harry lowered his hands, it would tighten around his throat and
cut off his air supply. If he raised them it would loosen again so he could
breathe. Raymond had taught him this one. Of course, Raymond had put weights on
his arms and rutted against his chest while watching him struggle and
suffocate, but that memory wasn’t welcome and Draco shoved it away. That had
nothing to do with what he was doing for Harry.
Focusing all his attention on his boy, Draco showed Harry how it worked,
briefly cutting off his air. “I want you to keep your hands up, but when you
need to rest, go ahead, but if you don’t breathe for too long you’ll fall down.
I’m going to be sad if that happens. I never want you to hurt yourself, Harry.
I want you to stand here and hold this pose because you know it makes me happy.
It’s going to be hard, but I know you can do it for me. Because you’re mine.”
Harry slowly nodded - hope happy determination LOVE.
“Good boy,” Draco said again, this time with a warm, loving smile that was just
for Harry. He ran his hand through the boy’s wild hair once before returning to
his book. 
He watched carefully. Harry dropped his hands every few minutes and cut off his
own air supply for thirty seconds or so. The time between not breathing began
to get shorter and shorter as Harry’s arms grew weaker. Nearly an hour later,
Harry’s arms were shaking badly and he was sweating and panting for air in
between being choked. He was completely out of it, totally unaware of the room.
He didn’t even twitch as Dobby came and Draco made some requests. A table was
brought in with a chair. Food and water were brought.
Draco gently grabbed Harry’s wrists just as they were about to sink down and he
rubbed them. “Good, Harry. You did good. You’re mine.”
-accomplishment submission peace love -
Draco let him catch his breath, carefully unraveling the scarf. He helped Harry
stagger to the chair and sat him down, rubbing firmly at his throbbing arms. 
“Now, I’m going to feed you. Because you’re mine to take care of,” Draco
explained. He very firmly tied two scarves together so that he had a really
long rope. He wrapped it around Harry’s torso and the chair, tying the boy
tight to the back of the chair with his arms pinned by his sides. “It makes me
so happy taking care of you. I love that you’re mine.”
Harry closed his eyes on a sigh - unworthiness need. He didn’t deserve Draco’s
love or deserve to be taken care of, but he was Draco’s and it made Draco
happy. He wanted to make Draco happy. He loved Draco so much. He kept his eyes
closed, and slowly, as Draco lifted food and water to his lips, Harry’s
emotions settled and he found that quiet place again. The one he’d found when
he’d been tied and unable to move. 
He was Draco’s. There was nothing he could do. Not now, not ever. Draco was
amazing. He was the one Harry had given himself to. He would take care of
things. Harry didn’t need to worry. He was tied; he couldn’t move or do
anything wrong. All he had to do was hold trust Draco, follow Draco, and Draco
would be happy. He could let go; he could let it all go. Draco had complete
control… 
Harry ate everything Draco gave him and drank nearly a half a pitcher of water.
Draco knew just when his belly started to feel too full and stopped. Draco was
so amazing - LOVE trust.
“Your turn, Harry. Stand up. I want you to feed me.”
Harry felt electrified as the scarf-rope came undone. He stood and gladly
picked things from the tray for Draco to eat even as his arm muscles burned in
agony as he lifted them. He trembled under Draco’s unblinking gaze. 
Draco ate everything Harry chose with a smile. Relief nearly sweep Harry off
his feet even as his whole body ached and burned from being tied and held in
weird positions for hours. When Draco was done eating, he took Harry’s hand and
they used the bathroom together one at a time until they were clean and had
brushed their teeth. 
The sky had gone a light grey as they climbed into bed. Dawn was coming.
Gently, Draco told Harry to lay on his side with his knees bent toward his
chest. The scarf-rope went back on, tying him in a fetal position, binding his
wrists and legs. Draco then spooned up behind him, practically wrapping around
him like a second set of ropes and holding him close. 
* Good boy. I love you, Harry. I love that you trust me, love that you’re mine.
I’ll take care of you. Always. You don’t have to worry about anything. I know
what to do, so rest. You don’t have to do anything right now. Just sleep. You
don’t have to worry or think. I’ll tell you what to do. I’ll tell you when and
where. I’ve got you, Harry, and I’m never going to let you go. *
Sighing, Harry closed his eyes, tears slipping free to bead on his dark lashes,
but this time it was because he was - relief grateful LOVE. He had never felt
so safe and warm before. He was Draco’s completely and Draco was in control.
All the fear, and guilt, and responsibility lifted from his heart. He
understood now. He was finally free. 
… 
Andromeda stared at the plate of scrambled eggs in front of her with a frown. 
Teddy watched her with worried eyes. “Are you okay, Dromeda?”
“I feel sick. I’ve felt sick ever since that trial,” she admitted and pushed
her plate away. Frustrated tears filled her eyes. 
Ted set his fork aside and stood. He came around the table and wrapped his arms
around his wife. “Dromeda, you saw some traumatic things. You need to give
yourself some slack.”
“I just… He was hurt so terribly, Teddy!” Her hazel eyes looked up at him with
desperation. “It was horrible. He was so small, so terribly thin… and his eyes
so empty, so broken.”
“That’s in his past. He is not that little boy anymore,” Ted soothed. 
Andromeda grabbed his shirt in two clenched hands. “I know some of that’s
because of Draco, but…” She pressed her face hard against his stomach. “I can’t
help but fear that Harry’s sick because of his past. How could he not be? And
Draco… He was a sex slave! They’ve been so twisted… Don’t you see they need to
be healed? That feeling that way about each other is just proof of that?”
Ted soothed her and stroked her hair, trying to get her to calm down. She was
breathing hard and gagging, almost about to throw up. Eventually he guided her
to the couch and pulled her into his lap, holding her tight. Once she was calm,
he began to speak.
“You care about them and that’s a good thing, Dromeda. You’re a good woman, but
fear is poisonous. Fear would make you believe the world is something it’s
not.” She lifted her head to argue, but he pressed it back down to his
shoulder. “Just listen. I’m not trying to change your mind. I just want you to
think about it again. If you’re fear is correct, then you’ll come to the same
conclusion.”
“Teddy…” she sighed, but she went limp in his arms. 
“Good.” He began to rock just slightly. “Your fear could be correct, but we
should decide if it really is or not, and that requires logical thinking. Truth
is logical. Always. Truth is never random. So! The only way I see of looking
for logic in this situation is cause and effect. Think about it this way: a
rotten or poisoned tree can only bear bad fruit. That is logical. Only a
healthy tree can bear good fruit. Okay?”
She tentatively nodded her head. 
“Well, what kind of fruit did the past make? You described Harry very
eloquently. He was physically unhealthy. His demeanor was beaten and broken. He
was frightened and hardly spoke, and when he did, he never spoke more than a
frightened whisper. Right? That’s a lot of very bad fruit and it came from a
very poisoned tree.”
“I’m glad they’re dead,” she whispered harshly.
“Shhh. We’re talking about something else right now,” Ted admonished and
cleared his throat. “So what fruit do Harry and Draco make together?”
Andromeda was silent. “Harry smiles. He’s happy. He’s putting on weight. He’s
so loving and considerate toward everyone. He adores Draco, but maybe too
much?”
Ted shook his head. “No. That’s fear again and not actual evidence. You have to
see an effect before drawing the conclusion that his love is too much. Evidence
like Harry only wanting to be with Draco and not letting anyone else into his
heart. That would be bad fruit. It would be obsession.”
“He does only want to be with Draco, but…” She sighed. “He let’s others into
his heart, too. He cares about everyone and he likes to spend time with Dora
even if Draco’s not with him. Like the time I found him…” She trailed off. “He
was so afraid. Began screaming and saying he was bad. That’s bad fruit.”
Ted arched his eyebrow. “Yes, but was it Draco’s fruit or the poisoned tree’s
fruit?”
She sighed again. “Not Draco probably. Draco was protective of Harry and did
his best to cheer him up the next few days.”
“Okay, so Harry shows no bad fruit from being with Draco,” Ted decided. “What
about Draco?”
Andromeda frowned. “He’s so intelligent but coldly so. Sometimes it’s like an
animal is looking out from his eyes. He’s obsessed with Harry. Totally focused
on him. He would never care about any of us, I think, if it weren’t for Harry.
He’s barely under control.”
“Yes,” Ted agreed. “I think so, too. However, I think all of that is fruit from
his poisoned past. I think it’s very good fruit indeed that he is responsive to
Harry and will join a group for him. Without that connection to society, he’d
be lost. Overtime, more good fruit will be born and maybe some of Draco’s
poisoned fruit will fall away. I definitely think that as terrible as Harry’s
past was, how horrible he looked and how horribly he was treated, he’s been
healed and given more good fruit than Draco. Partly because Draco actively
works to cut away all the bad fruit from Harry’s heart and life. Harry has not
yet been able to do the same for Draco. Eventually, though…” Ted smiled, big
and true. “Eventually, because of Draco’s good care, Harry’s going to be able
to stand a little bit stronger and he’ll begin to see for himself all the bad
fruit Draco carries and begin to help pare it away. Harry’s still so young.
Younger in a way than Draco, but he’ll grow, Andromeda. Their love is true, and
if it begins to become poisoned, we will see bad fruit appear. Until that day,
do not let fear convince you the world is something it’s not. Do not let fear
poison your heart or poison the boys. They’ve had enough poison, Dromeda, and
so have you.”
Andromeda lifted her head and flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Ted. How do
you do it?”
“I think logically,” he answered with a laugh. “Now. Let’s see if we can fix
you something.” He gently slid her off his lap and onto the couch before
happily making his way to the kitchen. 
Andromeda watched him go with a smile and shake of the head. “Are you sure
you’re a Hufflepuff and not a Ravenclaw?” she called playfully, a wobble still
in her voice. She truly loved that man. And she felt better, too, about
everything, so why did she still feel she was going to be sick? 
No, really. She was going to be sick. 
Bolting up she ran for the bathroom and began to heave bile into the toilet.
Ted found her and gently held her long, dark brown hair away from her face. 
“Do you have another flu, love?” he asked in concern.
“No…” she lifted her head and looked at him. “I think… I’m pregnant…”
Ted froze. 
Andromeda had struggled with Dora. Their daughter’s birth had not been an easy
one. It had almost killed Dromeda. The healers had told them it wouldn’t be
easy for her to conceive again, not with the scarring that even magic couldn’t
help, but just to be safe, she had taken a yearly contraceptive. It had been
fourteen years since then. After five, the contraceptive should have rendered
her infertile, but she had continued to take it, just to be sure. It wasn’t
like there were other side-effects besides the infertility after long-time use.
It was perfectly safe for her to use since she actually welcomed that result.
So it should have been impossible.
Ted adored his wife and daughter. They were his world, but… He couldn’t bare to
lose Andromeda. The thought terrified him past all reasoning.
“It just hit me…” Andromeda was saying, oblivious to her husband frozen in
terror. “It feels like…”
“We’re going to St. Mungo’s,” Ted decided abruptly. 
He bundled his wife up in a coat, not even caring that she was still in her
nightgown. The walk to the Leaky Cauldron was a blur, but soon they were
flooing to the magical hospital. They had to wait for an examination room, but
soon enough they were with a Healer.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Tonks. You’re pregnant. About three weeks, I would say.
You probably conceived around Samhain,” the young woman told them cheerfully, a
big smile on her face that slowly melted when she saw the worried looks on
their faces. “Are you okay?”
Ted explained that Andromeda had almost died in childbirth and the fact she’d
been on a contraceptive for thirteen years and the Healer grew serious.
Andromeda went through hours of tests. Her blood, magic, and uterus were all
examined. Her old charts were consulted and the Healers were absolutely
stumped.
“You’ve been healed,” the Healer finally concluded. “There is absolutely no
evidence of the scarring your records depict. There is not even trace amounts
of the contraceptive you used or any other kind, either. You are perfectly
healthy. It’s been ten years since your last scan. Likely your magic has slowly
healed you over time without you knowing it. It’s very rare, but magic has done
stranger things.”
Joyous, Ted and Andromeda embraced and kissed, delighted. They were very
careful not to share their opinions: that it was the faerie circle that had
healed her and their feverous coupling that had conceived a child. The
Wizarding world had a very big stigma regarding fairies and babies. 
In the past, witches and wizards would stumble into faerie rings and come away
with child only for that child to grow into strange or extraordinary people.
Well, the ones that were allowed to grow up, anyway. They were more often
spirited away before the age of eleven, sometimes as babies or as young
children, leaving many families to grieve and suffer that painful loss.
Changelings, they were called. So Andromeda and Ted knew better than to say
anything to the Healer.
Andromeda rushed home, got dressed, and owled the other women from the circle,
asking them to please join her at her home, giving them the address. She
explained it was urgent, and even if they were slightly unwell, they should
attend. Not two hours later, she had Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Fawcett, and Mrs.
Diggory sitting in her small living room. She didn’t beat around the bush.
“I’m pregnant. It should be impossible for reasons I will not explain now, but
I’m pregnant,” Andromeda told them bluntly. “It is likely you are as well
because I think it was the Samhain circle.”
The women were shocked, but Mrs. Diggory became horrified. 
“I can’t be pregnant!” she yelled. “Not by those creatures! What would my
husband say?”
“Rebecca, calm down,” Molly tried to sooth her.
“I will not be calm!” Mrs. Diggory snapped furiously. “You’re telling me that a
changeling might be growing in my stomach! A godless creature!”
“You weren’t raped by a fairy,” Andromeda argued. “You were with your husband.
The magic of the circle just made conception more likely.”
Mrs. Diggory deflated, tears rising in her eyes. “You can’t be sure of that.
Not with their illusions and magic.” 
Silence descended on their group for a long minute.
“Well, I thought something was strange, but I’ve been on a contraceptive for
over five years. Told myself it was impossible.” Molly smiled at Andromeda,
tears in her eyes. “It’ll be difficult, but a baby is a blessing. Even if it’s
half-fairy, it’s half me, too.”
“You aren’t afraid of having it stolen or it not being… fully human?” Mrs.
Fawcett asked. “I come from gypsy roots. There are records…”
Molly huffed, her ample bossom heaving. “I know some really great people who
aren’t fully human. I don’t buy into that whole line about non-humans being
equal to monsters. Any child of mine will be decent, and if the fairies come
for my baby, I’ll have to show them I’m not a witch to be messed with.”
“But if the baby disappears regardless?” Mrs. Diggory demanded in disgust.
Molly grew more serious and gently took the other woman’s hand. “If my baby
goes to live in another realm, at least he or she will know they have a piece
of me with them always.”
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Fawcett said softly, standing. “I can’t in good conscious
give birth to a child and raise it knowing there is a high probability that
it’s going to be taken to live with inhuman creatures. They could be fairy
slaves for all we know. The fae aren’t human, Molly, and evidence is clear they
don’t much like humans. What could they possibly want half-human babies for?
Nothing good,” she said reasonably. “As I said, I come from gypsy roots. I’m
too realistic to hope for some happy ending here.” She turned to Mrs. Diggory.
“I know of herbs that will make you miscarry.” At Mrs. Diggory’s wide-eyed
look, she continued, her voice sharp, “It’s hardly grown more than a tiny group
of cells attached to your uterus at the moment, so it won’t even make you ill.
If you’d like the recipe, owl me.” Without another word, she gave a dip of her
head and let herself out. 
Mrs. Diggory stared at Molly and Andromeda for a long moment before silently
following Mrs. Fawcett from the room.
“I’m keeping it,” Molly said softly.
Andromeda took her hand. “Me, too.”
Molly smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I have a feeling that the
Diggorys and Fawcetts won’t be friends any longer.”
“No,” Andromeda agreed. “I’m sorry.”
Molly shook her head. “It’s a good thing the Weasleys are a big family, then.
No room to get lonely.”
Andromeda squeezed her hand. “We may have only just met, but I’d be honored to
be considered your friend.”
Molly smiled. “Of course. Thank you.”
“The only worry I have is that I think my Nymphadora will get along too well
with your twins.”
The two women looked at each other with identical expressions of horror and
began to laugh.
… 
Lucius threw his riding gloves onto his desk and grabbed the glowing chalice
from the shelf. He’d cut his riding lesson with Draco short as soon as he felt
the ward activate. Huld had something to report.
He quickly settled into his desk chair and activated the cup. “Yes?”
Huld’s voice drifted up from the depths, bland as always. “I found Lady
Malfoy’s father. He was in a hidden convent. I broke a barrier to get to him,
so he has been exiled and the convent will be moved. He’s returning to England.
I believe he plans to acquire Grimmuald Place. He was not the one who took your
son. You owe me one payment.”
“Very well,” Lucius agreed, frustrated beyond measure. “And the others?”
“Getting into Azkaban was equally challenging, but in a different way. However,
I was successful in interrogating both suspects. Sirius Black is innocent. You
owe me one payment.”
“Yes, yes, it’s yours,” he snapped impatiently, leaning closer to the cup.
“I have discovered very interesting information. For the cost of a third
payment, do you want to buy my knowledge?”
Lucius hesitated. Huld had already extracted an enormous sum from him. All to
be told nothing of real worth. However, Huld had come highly recommended. If
the man felt he had something of value, he most likely did. “Yes. I will pay.”
“Sirius Black is innocent of the charge of betraying the Potters. The Potters
switched to Peter Pettigrew fearing Black was a too obvious choice. When they
were betrayed and murdered, Black went after Pettigrew and was framed for the
man’s murder as well as the dozen Muggle witnesses. It is unclear how Pettigrew
managed all this.”
Lucius smiled coldly. Very interesting. If Andromeda continues to distress
Narcissa, then he may have to begin to set things in motion that would free
Black and have him replace Narcissa’s sister as the boys’ secondary guardian. A
man six years in Azkaban must be broken enough by now to be easily controlled.
He would have to keep it in mind. 
“And Bellatrix?” he asked, holding his breath.
“Bellatrix Black had a vision of the future while taking the Dark Mark, as is
apparently common. Part of that vision involved your son intwined with another
male. When your child was born some years later, she remembered her vision and
grew obsessed with saving him from the Pureblood practice of breaking those
with this inclination. She studied the Fidelius Charm and made alterations that
would allow her to hide the boy’s identity. She placed him in an orphanage in
America across the sea to help hide him further from location spells. She also
charmed the child so that he would not be adopted. She wanted to protect him
from the possibility of an abusive home. It was her plan to check on him
frequently, but within the year she was incarcerated in Azkaban.”
Lucius felt something beginning to rise from deep in his core. It filled his
stomach and lungs, and rose up his throat. It was joy and bloodlust mixed. He
wanted to throw his head back and howl. He had her! He had the one who had
stolen his son! 
Nails digging into the desk next to the chalice, Lucius forced himself to talk.
“I appreciate your hard work, Huld. Four payments will be placed into your
account as soon as the bank opens tomorrow.”
“Pleasure doing business, Lord Malfoy.”
The chalice went dark. Lucius stood over it, panting for several minutes before
he managed to get his breathing under control. Very calmly, he cleaned the
chalice and set it back in its place. Then he went to his room and changed into
suitable clothes for visiting Knockturn Alley. He would need to find a team
capable of breaking into Azkaban and stealing a prisoner without getting
caught. Lucius would have her. By New Year she would be in his dungeon. He
didn’t care how much it cost. 
Chapter end.
***** Winter Solstice and Yule *****
Winter Solstice and Yule
As December arrived, the boys packed a bag and returned to London. Ted was with
Andromeda this time, the couple waiting for them at the Leaky Cauldron. It was
cold for that time of the year and there was a possible chance for snow, which
was rare in the city. Andromeda was excited because she claimed it just wasn’t
Yule without snow. 
Ted smiled as Draco asked where they were going. They had made an opposite turn
and were heading away from the house. “There’s a cafe down the street that has
delicious tea and amazing cake,” he explained.
Draco eyed him suspiciously. He was also very suspicious of Andromeda’s rosy
cheeks and big smile. He had expected more tension between them after the
trial. He was perfectly aware Andromeda wasn’t happy about his and Harry’s
relationship, so he’d predicted that seeing bits of Harry’s childhood would
have made her more upset about everything. He was really taken off guard by her
cheerful demeanor and Ted’s serene smile. 
Harry sat next to Draco in the booth Ted had chosen. Their big coats were
stuffed on the seat next to them. The two adults didn’t say much until their
steaming hot teas and the large slices of cake were delivered. Harry sat
happily - peace contentment- radiating from the bond, but Draco remained blank-
faced and watchful. Finally, Andromeda and Ted shared a look and told them what
was going on. 
“I’m pregnant,” Andromeda told them, hazel eyes sparkling. “From Samhain. So
are the other women who were present.”
“Okay…” Draco said slowly, looking back and forth between the two.
“Congratulations?”
“We want you to know that this won’t change how we feel about you and Harry,”
Ted told him, expression as gentle and knowing as always. “You are our children
no matter what.”
Draco shrugged. He really didn’t care. He liked the Tonks’, sure, but it’s not
like he’d be crushed if they had to part ways. 
Harry ducked his head, blushing. He didn’t really deserve their care and
concern. It was only right that they cared more about Dora and the new baby.
Anything else would make him feel guilty, like he was taking something way from
Dora and the baby. He’d be much happier if Andromeda and Ted didn’t treat them
the same to be honest.
Seeing the boys expressions, Ted thought it best to change the subject. Even
though the boys didn’t understand yet that they were family, he knew they would
come to understand in time. It wasn’t something the boys could be forced into
accepting. “We are very happy to have our family grow as is Mrs. Weasley, but
we wanted you to be aware that not everyone will see it the same way and you
might hear things regarding the baby.”
Draco cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
Unconsciously Andromeda put her hand over her stomach in a protective gesture.
Her smile dimmed, sadness shading her features. “You see, in the past, before
human society was the most dominant on the planet, magical creatures were more
abundant and more dangerous. The fae used to capture humans and play with them
a lot more often. They’d make them dance until they dropped dead or spirit them
away to the land of Faerie never to be seen again. Women who were impregnated
while within a faerie ring were not uncommon. The babies would be born deformed
- covered in hair, with heads larger than their bodies, very sickly, or other
such things. Or they were born perfect in every way - inhumanly perfect. Now
most of the time these children didn’t live to adulthood. They were either
killed or died, but most of the ones who did were spirited away back to Faerie
before the age of eleven. You can imagine the grief this put on the family.
Especially because a strong bond always formed between mother and changeling
child. The grief of losing that child usually destroyed the mother and she too
died or had a tragic end.”
“So none of the babies lived to be adults?” Harry asked wide-eyed - guilt
sorrow- trickled through the bond. Andromeda and Ted had only been caught up
with the fairies because Harry and Draco were with them.
“Some did,” Ted reassured him gently. “They grew into odd and eccentric people,
but they were always very magical and touched the lives of many.”
“Seems like a big risk,” Draco commented. He gently squeezed Harry’s hand. “But
you seem happy about it.”
Andromeda nodded. “Yes. I didn’t think I could have another child. I’m very
happy to be given this opportunity. Besides, we’re not completely sure it is a
changeling. After all, it was Ted I was with, not a fairy.”
“Mrs. Fawcett and Mrs. Diggory did not feel comfortable taking that risk. They
chose not to have the babies,” Ted informed them. “I know you are young, and
Dromeda didn’t think it was a good idea to tell you this, but I think it’s
important that you understand the situation. Especially since you will be big
brothers to our baby.”
“When a woman gets rid of her pregnancy, it’s called abortion,” Andromeda took
over, expression serious. “It’s illegal in the magical world and is considered
the same as murder, but some Muggle countries allow it as long as the pregnancy
isn’t too advanced. You see, at first it’s just cells that are still dividing
and forming. Like a tadpole before it looks like a frog. Some people think at
that stage it’s not really a baby or a human yet and it’s okay to flush it out
of the body. Other people believe that as soon as the cells begin dividing it’s
a human with a soul. Of course, no one knows for sure, but there you have it.
All I know is that even the best healers in the world can’t detect even the
faintest signs of a magical core within the baby before the eleventh week and
sometimes it takes as late as the eighteenth week to detect. Some argue that’s
because it’s just so weak and faint, but others say it’s because the baby isn’t
really alive until then.”
Harry looked around the table in confusion, his dark wavy bangs hanging over
his glasses and shading his eyes.
Ted smiled. “Don’t worry, Harry. It’s a lot to take in. A lot of adults don’t
understand this stuff.”
“That’s because wizards disdain Muggle science.” Andromeda sniffed and tossed
her head arrogantly. “I’ll be giving you biology worksheets this month. I want
you to understand the development process of a fetus. Not just in humans but
other animals, too.”
Draco rolled his eyes as - interest - pricked through the bond from a bright-
eyed Harry. He poked at his cake with his fork. “So if it’s so illegal, why’d
they tell you they were going to stop the pregnancy? Can’t you tell the police
on them?”
Andromeda looked at Ted and he answered for them. “It’s illegal in the magical
world, but it’s legal in the UK up until the twenty-fourth week of pregnancy.
Mrs. Fawcett and Mrs. Diggory were only a few weeks pregnant. I believe in
people making their own choices. Mrs. Weasley must feel the same way.”
Draco gave Andromeda a shrewd look. “And you’re hoping to keep it secret that
your baby might be a changeling, right? They won’t say anything because then
you could expose them for getting rid of the pregnancy.”
Andromeda smiled at him. “They’ll keep it secret for awhile, but I doubt we’ll
be able to keep it hidden forever. If our baby is a changeling, they’ll be
different. That will only get more apparent as they get older. However, I’d
prefer for them to grow up feeling accepted for as long as possible, yes.”
“Does Dora know?” Harry asked curiously.
“No.” Ted took a bite of his cake. “We’ll tell her when she comes home for
Yule. This isn’t something we’d want to say in a letter.”
Draco took a bite of his own and was surprised how it practically melted in his
mouth. It really was delicious. “When’s she come back?” 
“December 19th,” Andromeda answered happily. “It’s going to be a great Yule
season this year.”
“Is Yule the same as Christmas?” Harry asked innocently.
“Pretty much.” Andromeda closed her eyes around her bite of chocolate cake. “A
lot of wizards celebrate a combination of Christian and Pagan traditions, but
not all wizards are Christian.”
“What are you?” Draco asked curiously, but he was distracted by the face Harry
was making. The boy had just tried the cake and Draco felt his heart skip a
beat at the bliss on the smaller boy’s face.
“I’m purely Pagan,” Andromeda admitted, “but Ted is a Spiritualist. He believes
there is truth in all religions, that there is no one right way to practice
spirituality.” She shrugged. “He’s a Hufflepuff. He doesn’t want to disrespect
any religion, but doesn’t want to commit to any of them, either.”
Ted laughed. “I suppose you can see it that way.” He gave the boys a gentle
look. “I believe that spirituality is inherent in human beings. There is
something about us that allows us to connect to the greater energies and
spirits of the world. I believe some people are more attuned than others. These
people are worth listening to and following. I don’t believe, however, in
organized religion. It becomes more like a business when money is involved.
Almost every religion in the world condemns materialism and greed, so I have an
issue with most churches and Christianity in general, but I don’t disagree with
all of the teachings. Jesus was truly enlightened.”
“Okay…” Draco drawled again, bored.
Ted laughed. “Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”
“I’ve never had a Christmas,” Harry suddenly confessed. He looked shyly at
Draco. 
Draco watched him back. “Me, either. I was too young at the orphanage I guess
and you can bet Christmas wasn’t a thing at the Hold, but Remus told us about
it before. Harry’s wanted to have one ever since. Last year we were in Faerie,
so we missed it.”
- embarrassment shame desire- “Sorry,” Harry muttered and ducked his head.
Andromeda instantly teared up. “Of course you’ll have one! This year you’ll
even get two! One with us and one with Narcissa. I promise it’ll be amazing.”
Ted wrapped his arm around Andromeda’s shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze
while Draco mirrored him, wrapping his arm around Harry.
“Don’t be sorry,” Draco whispered in his ear. “You heard me. I haven’t had one
either.”
Harry looked up, eyes a clear green. “I want you to have a Christmas, Draco.”
Draco smiled and kissed his cheek. “And I want you with me when I do.”
- LOVE happy trust - “Yes, Draco,” he said and settled against the blond,
smiling.
…
The days passed quickly. The boys studied their science and continued to
practice math and reading. They saw plays and movies, played in the park. Remus
stopped by a couple times and Severus came to check Draco’s progress with
Occlumency and the memory spell. Draco slowly relaxed and stopped watching
Andromeda like a hawk. She was too over the moon about the pregnancy to fret
over him and Harry. 
In fact, on the afternoon Dora was arriving on the train, Andromeda was feeling
so nauseous that she had to stay home while Ted, Draco, and Harry donned their
winter coats, scarves, hats, and gloves to pick Dora up at King’s Cross
Station. 
Draco held Harry’s hand tightly as they arrived at Platform 9 3/4. Pointing and
whispering followed them. Ted stood close by and ignored the excitement. A few
people tried to approach, but Ted had cast a Warding Charm that kept everyone
at a twenty-foot distance. After those few who tried to approach were diverted,
others learned to keep back. That didn’t stop them from staring and gossiping,
however.
Molly arrived with Arthur, the twins, Ron, and Ginny. She saw them and waved,
not even trying to get close. Ted waved back. The train began to arrive. It
bellowed steam, the engine a gorgeous dark red with gold writing on its side
proudly stating: The Hogwarts Express. The sound was enormous as the train
slowed and finally came to a stop. The doors opened and a sea of teenagers came
pouring out. Draco watched in interest. He couldn’t believe how many kids there
were! He’d never seen so many all in one place. How were they even going to
find Dora in this mess?
Suddenly pink caught his attention. Dora, her hair in a bright pink bob, stood
saying goodbye to a group of boys before cutting through the crowd. She didn’t
trip until she reached the barrier. Ted canceled the spell and helped his
daughter get back on her feet. She bounced up with a big smile and flung her
arms around Draco and then Harry.
“I missed you, guys! How are you?”
Draco had to brace Harry so that the smaller boy didn’t get knocked over.
“We’ve been busy,” he drawled.
Dora grew somber. “I bet.” Then her bright smile returned in full force. “Well,
we’re going to have a blast over break! I’ll make sure of it.”
Molly approached with her enormous family. There were so many of them that they
effectively served as a shield from the others who had realized that Draco and
Harry were now approachable. 
“Ted! How lovely to see you!” Molly exclaimed cheerfully. “How’s Andromeda?”
“She’s at home resting. Feeling a bit sick today,” Ted said with a wry smile.
Molly smiled back. “Poor thing. Here, let me give you a recipe that works
wonders.” 
She turned to one of the older boys and asked him for parchment and a quill. As
she did this, Arthur introduced them to the boys they didn’t recognize. 
“Ted, this is my oldest, Bill, he’s in his Sixth year, and his younger brother
Charlie, he’s in Fifth.” Arthur gently grabbed a skinny boy by the shoulder and
pulled him forward. 
The boy had glasses and had a blank expression unlike Bill and Charlie who were
smiling with polite interest. He stared with eyes that Draco recognized.
Draco’s attention sharpened and he watched the kid very attentively.
“And this is Percy who’s in his First year,” the man continued oblivious. “All
of them are House Gryffindor. Boys, this is Ted Tonks, Draco and Harry.”
“Nice to meet you,” Bill offered.
“Mum’s gonna invite you…”
“…to come to the horse races on Boxing Day with us,” the twins took turns
saying, wearing matching grins.
“Say you’ll come!” Ginny gushed, bright red and clinging to Ron’s arm.
Ron shuffled his feet, clearly embarrassed, but he didn’t push her off. 
Draco continued to watch the boy they called Percy as Ted, Arthur, and Molly
talked and Harry shyly spoke with the other Weasley kids. Percy seemed to fade
into the background. He stood with them but he was apart, too. He was
apathetic. He didn’t care one way or another about anything that was happening
around him. 
“What’s it like being a First year?” Draco asked suddenly, cutting into the
other conversations. 
In the sudden hush, Percy answered, “Fine.”
Molly frowned, suddenly sensing something was wrong with her son. Draco
continued to watch him as the other kids including Dora began to exclaim how
great Hogwarts was. 
Ted cut in, saying his goodbyes, and promised to have Andromeda get in contact
with Molly. Dora waved happily as they made their way off the platform and into
the crowd. 
Ted carefully cast a Disillusionment Charm so they weren’t bothered. “What do
you think, kids?” he asked cheerfully. “Want to walk or take the tube?” 
It was a quick ten minute ride on the tube back to the house, but by foot it
would take them over thirty minutes.
“Let’s walk!” Dora enthused. “I’ve been on a train forever already.”
After window shopping and a brief game of tag between the kids at a small park,
they finally made it back to the house. Andromeda had already started dinner
and told them Remus was expected, but before that she and Ted had something to
share with her. 
Dora was super excited as soon as they explained about the baby. She made a vow
that no one would bully the baby about being a changeling anymore than she’d
let anyone pick on Draco or Harry. Ted gave his daughter a proud smile and warm
hug.
That night Remus came for dinner. Harry ran to the door with Draco following at
his heels. Remus tugged both boys into a brief hug before pulling out two
wrapped presents from his shoulder bag.
- surprise guilt - “I don’t need a present!” Harry said worriedly.
“I know.” Remus gently touched his cheek. “I wanted to give it to you.” He shot
Draco a smile. “You’re not going to argue with me, too, are you?”
Draco smirked. “Nope.”
Remus laughed and let the boys lead him to the living room where Andromeda,
Dora, and Ted were waiting. Dora turned a bright red and her hair a pale pink
when Remus handed her a wrapped gift as well. He made them all promise to not
open their gifts until Christmas, or Gifting Day as the Pagans called it. 
Dinner was a lively affair. Remus was in high spirits and told them hilarious
stories about his days in Hogwarts and showed them interesting spells. One of
them made it snow in the living room. Dora spun in a circle, arms outstretched.
The snow flakes were especially beautiful and the cold tickled as they brushed
her skin. Harry held his hands out, eyes wide with wonder, letting the snow
build up on his open palms. Draco smiled as he watched them both. 
At first Andromeda was concerned, but she smiled happily once she noticed that
the snow disappeared just before hitting the floor or furniture. “You’ll join
us, won’t you?” she asked warmly, placing a gentle hand on Remus’s arm. “On
Boxing Day with the Weasleys. They asked me to invite you.”
“Boxing Day is the 28th this year?” he asked. 
“Yes,” Ted agreed. “You’re also invited to our New Years celebration.”
Remus smiled, shadows in his eyes that only Draco recognized. “Thank you for
the invitation. I’d love to join you on Boxing Day, but I have plans for New
Years.”
Draco knew that must mean he’d be sick due to the moon. He turned his attention
to Harry, not wanting to give them any reason to suspect Remus. Harry was
trying to catch more snow on his tongue than Dora. They were both giggling like
mad and it made Draco laugh, too.
… 
Only two days after Dora’s return, Harry and Draco went back to the Malfoys for
their three day visit. Narcissa had scheduled it so that she’d have the boys on
the night of the Winter Solstice. It was her favorite holiday and she wanted
the boys to celebrate it with her. 
Over dinner, the boys told her about the baby and Narcissa had to bite down on
bitter jealousy. Perhaps the faerie ring would have been enough to counter the
Malfoy curse. Feeling Lucius’s knowing eyes on her, she quickly changed the
subject. 
They passed a peaceful night together. The next morning, on the twenty-second,
they got dressed in their warmest clothes after a hearty breakfast. Together
they made their way to the woods, their breath frosting the air. It was just
over forty degrees Fahrenheit or four degrees Celsius. The breeze seemed to cut
through any exposed skin. 
“What are we looking for again?” Draco asked.
Narcissa smiled back at him. “Our Yule tree. It represents life and family at
this dark time of the year. It reminds us that we are not alone and we must
take joy in one another especially in dark times. We will cut the tree down and
trim the end to keep as our Yule log. Then we will place the tree in the
ballroom by the front windows and decorate it together. Tonight we will light
the Yule log from the remains of last year’s log, thus perpetuating our
tradition and history, pushing it forward into the uncertain future, one flame
moving to the next. The log will burn throughout the night and then smolder for
the Twelve Days of Yule.” 
Draco sighed making Narcissa laugh, much to the surprise of both boys. 
“It doesn’t sound nice, but trust me you’ll love it,” she assured them. Eyes
bright and cheeks red with cold, she reached forward to capture Lucius’s hand.
He returned her smile. 
They looked for their tree for hours. Narcissa would argue about each one they
picked until they finally found one she agreed with. It stood twelve feet tall
with the bottom branches creating an eight foot wide circle. Narcissa took the
boys hands in hers and pulled them some distance away. Lucius stood, his long
hair lifting in the cold breeze and aimed his wand. The boys jumped as a loud
crack sounded and pine needles rained down. Braced, Lucius cast again and
lifted the tree a foot in the air. 
Narcissa, grinning, released Harry’s hand and took out her wand. A sharp spell
later, a foot of the base of the tree was severed, falling to the ground with a
thump they felt through their feet. Then Lucius took a deep breath and slowly
the tree began to rise over the tops of all the others. Narcissa hovered the
Yule log after them and they made their way back the way they came. It took a
good half hour to reach the edge of the woods. Lucius was sweating by that
point. He spelled the tree down gently and sat on the ground to get his breath
back. 
Narcissa exclaimed in joy about how beautiful the tree was and how perfect. She
pointed out to Harry the thickness of the branches and their sturdiness, the
color of the needles and the smell. Her enthusiasm was contagious and soon -
excitement awe - sang through the bond, making Draco shake his head with a
smile. 
They had a light lunch there on the grass with a winter sky clear and blue
above them. It had warmed up a bit, but it was still cold enough for their
coats. When Lucius felt ready, he hovered the massive tree once more, Narcissa
hovered the log, and they made their way back to the manor. Dobby and Lottie
took over as soon as they arrived, and they all made their way to the ballroom
where the elves began to set and stabilize the tree. The Yule log was placed
next to the massive fireplace where it would be prepared with herbs, wine, and
holly before being lit at sunset.
Lucius cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, grinning. “Well, boys, what
should our theme be this year?” 
A table was brought with chairs as well as cushions and rugs for the floor.
Steaming mugs of hot chocolate were set out. Their coats were discarded and
taken away by Lottie. It wasn’t warm by any means in the manor, but climate
spells kept the rooms warm enough that they could be comfortable in just their
sweaters. Draco and Lucius wore matching dark grey sweaters with Draco in his
beloved jeans and Lucius in black slacks. Narcissa wore a pale blue sweater
with a white skirt and Harry wore a dark purple sweater over his grey slacks. 
“Theme?” Harry asked standing next to Draco’s chair. Draco casually wrapped an
arm around his waist.
“We always decorate to a theme for Yule,” Lucius explained. “For the past
several years our theme was the color white. It could be a color, a time
period, anything you can decorate to.”
Harry immediately looked to Draco. Narcissa and Lucius followed his gaze and
were soon looking at Draco, too. 
Looking back at their expectant faces, Draco sighed again. He thought about
everything he’d learned about Christmas and now Yule. One thing seemed to keep
coming up it seemed to him. “Snow?” he offered with a shrug.
Narcissa clapped her hands happily. “A Winter Wonderland. Perfect!” She
excitedly called for Lottie to fetch the charmed paper.
Lucius helped her add to the spells on the parchment and began to show the boys
how to cut out snowflakes. Once they were done, Lucius and Narcissa would tap
the paper and their snowflakes would become three dimensional and crystal clear
like glass, sparkling and shimmering in the light. Harry was delighted. While
they worked, Narcissa began to create icicles. Lucius, meanwhile, began to cast
the spell Remus had shown them on the ceiling of the ballroom so that it looked
like it was snowing.
Once they were done with their decorations, they began to attach the crystal
snowflakes and shimmering icicles to the branches of the tree. The sky was
darkening by this time and Lottie brought them thin white candles. With a wave
of Lucius’s wand, they lifted and scattered to hover amongst the branches,
illuminating the snow flakes and icicles so that crystalline light seemed to
sparkle from the depths. It was a breathtaking sight. 
“Come. It’s time to light the Yule log.”
Harry and Draco helped Narcissa decorate it with ivy and holly, splashing it
with wine. Lucius arrived with last year’s log and breathed on it, fire
magically bursting to gentle life. They watched as he settled it next to this
years log. Slowly, the flames caught on the new. The smell of the smoke was
sweet and woodsy. 
Narcissa wrapped her arms around the boys and held them close. “Happy Yule,”
she whispered. 
“Happy Yule,” Harry echoed back, smiling. 
They ate dinner at the small table set next to the tree and just enjoyed each
other, their beautiful tree, and the warmth of the Yule fire. Afterward,
Narcissa asked Lucius to coat half the ballroom floor in ice and had Lottie
fetch their ice skates. (She had purchased all of them a pair while the boys
were with Andromeda.) 
Lucius resisted joining in, but soon he was skating along the ice, laughing.
Draco and Harry were awkward at first, but soon they got their balance and were
racing after each other over the icy surface. As Narcissa tried to teach them
how to spin and turn, Lucius caught her about the waist and kissed her, making
her laugh joyously. Soon after, Harry tumbled, pulling Draco down on top of
him. Draco stole a kiss, - joy love - filling them both to the brim.
They stayed up all night: playing, decorating, skating, eating sweats, drinking
chocolate, laughing. As the sun rose, they noticed the log had burnt down to
just embers and coals with a red-gold center. It would continue to smolder for
twelve days until they put it out after New Years to be saved for next Yule. 
They stood as a family in front of the fireplace, closer than ever before.
Lucius bent and kissed first Draco’s forehead and then Harry’s. “I will always
be your family,” he told them both. “I love you.”
Draco nodded his head, holding Harry’s hand tightly, but Harry gave Lucius a
warm smile. “Love you,” he told him for the very first time, making Lucius’s
eyes bright.
Teary-eyed, Narcissa kissed Draco’s cheek and then Harry’s. “I will love you
always,” she promised and pulled them both in to her chest, hugging them
together.
Harry hugged her around the neck with one arm, his other smashed up against
Draco. “Love you, Narcissa.” He kissed her cheek.
“Thank you,” Draco told her softly. 
…
They slept until noon. By unspoken agreement, they returned to the small table
set up by the tree and fire in the ballroom. Narcissa and Lucius were already
there having a light brunch. Draco and Harry joined them. Lucius suggested they
all go for a ride, so the four of them bundled up again and rode their
beautiful horses across the grounds all afternoon. There was no snow on the
ground, but it was peaceful and still, the earth beginning to go dormant for
winter.
That night, after a warm dinner of roast beef, Harry was woken shortly before
midnight by Dobby. The elf’s pale green eyes practically shone with excitement.
“Young sir, Young Master Draco wanted me to give you this.”
Harry took the folded note and sat up, the heavy blanket falling to his waist.
He reached for his glasses and slipped them on. 
Harry, this is a time for gifts. I have a gift for you, but you also have a
gift for me. Your gift is in the closet. My gift is that you put it on and meet
me in ballroom. 
Heart pumping, sleep falling away from his mind, Harry climbed naked from the
warm covers. He shivered as the cool air hit his skin and he quickly moved to
the closet, pulling it open. Candles had been lit inside and on a metal wire
mannequin was a gorgeous ballgown. Harry’s chest constricted until he literally
couldn’t take a breath. Feeling like he was in a dream, he reached his fingers
forward to gently skim the lavender chiffon skirt. 
The gown… It was gorgeous, beyond beautiful… The top was made out of the most
gorgeously sewn white lace: flowers and vines and delicate little curls over
the softest white silk. The silk formed a tube-top type bodice that hugged
Harry’s slender torso while the beautiful lace over his collarbones, slender
neck, and long sleeves were sheer, falling over bare skin. The lace sleeves
dipped over the back of his hands with a loop for his middle finger to hold it
in place. The skirt was full like a bell with layers of the most fine chiffon,
the ouster most layer a beautiful pinkish- lavender, a color that was both soft
and dreamy. Along the bottom of the skirt, white lace flowers and vines were
sewn with whimsy and grace. They crawled up the chiffon in several places, the
purest white against the softest purple. Around his hips sat a wide silk ribbon
that hid the meeting of the bodice and skirt and cinched his waist even
smaller. It tied in a beautiful bow at his lower back.
“Let Dobby add the final touches,” the little elf said softly. 
Baby’s breath appeared and was woven into his hair, his lashes were darkened,
and his eyes were temporarily spelled for clear vision, which allowed him to
take his glasses off. Finally, his nails were gently buffed and polished with a
clear shine.
Looking at himself in the full-length bathroom mirror was like seeing a whole
new person. His cheeks and lips were flushed dark pink with pleasure. His eyes
looked larger, the green of them brighter without his glasses. His hair didn’t
look messy for once; the slight weight of the small flowers taming it into
something fae and cute. And his collar looked exotic under the white lace that
covered his throat, making his neck look long and elegant. He had never looked
so beautiful. 
Holding Dobby’s hand, Harry stepped into the lavender slippers that went with
the gown. His heart thundered in his chest. His lips parted as he gasped softly
for air. He followed Dobby from the room hardly breathing he felt so much - joy
excitement love nervousness. The skirt swooshed in a soft sigh with every step
he took. The dress trailed gracefully behind him as he descended the stairs.
Candles were lit along the way, a trail of golden light. At the bottom of the
steps, he had to pause to take another breath. 
Dobby waited patiently, smiling with tears in his eyes. “You’s look beautiful,
young sir.”
Harry smiled, lips trembling. “Thank you, Dobby,” he said with deepest
gratitude. He knew he only looked beautiful because of the elf’s efforts and
the gorgeous dress.
“Come. Young master waits.” Dobby gently tugged Harry forward by his hand. 
Dobby stepped aside at the entrance to the ballroom, bowing at the waist. Harry
folded his hands in front of him nervously and stepped forward. Draco stood
just inside, a smile on his lips. He wore his most formal dress robes that
buttoned closed at his waist but flared open to reveal his expensive dress
pants and shoes. The neck was open in a deep V, revealing his dark blue waist
vest and button down. A blue tie was at his throat and his hair was slicked
back. 
Draco’s eyes widened when he caught sight of Harry and he smiled, his cheeks
red. He bowed deeply at the waist and offered his hand. “Harry. You look
gorgeous.” 
Harry put his hand in his without thinking and the blond pulled him forward so
they were standing chest to chest. 
Looking deep into Harry’s uncovered green eyes, Draco whispered, “Thank you for
this gift.”
Harry was speechless, - LOVE surprise joy - pounded like waves against his
chest and throat, keeping him silent. His eyes would have said it all, even if
there hadn’t been a bond, and Draco smiled the smile that was just Harry’s. He
bent and kissed the smaller boy, thrilling in the way Harry melted against
him. 
Lips throbbing, Draco lifted his head. “May I have this dance?”
On cue, the spelled Malfoy instruments set unnoticed in the corner began to
play a soft waltz. Harry stared into Draco’s eyes and let the blond move them
across the floor. The light of a hundred candles created a soft glow that
sparkled off the spelled snow still falling from the ceiling and off the
crystal snowflakes and icicles in the tree. Harry’s skirt flared with every
turn, opening like a blossoming flower. Tears dampened Harry’s lashes and he
rested his head on Draco’s shoulder, their bodies moving as one. 
* I love you, Harry. You look so amazing. Thank you for giving this to me. *
Harry blushed a hot red. “Love you. So much. Draco…” He lifted his head to look
into Draco’s bright silver eyes, nearly overcome with - deep gratitude LOVE.
“Yours. Yours forever. Love you forever.”
Draco kissed him again, thrusting his tongue inside the boy’s mouth as he swung
Harry into a low dip. Harry never tensed, trusting Draco completely, easily
submitting to his hold. When they came up for air, Draco pulled him back into
the dance. He was grinning; Harry smiled with him. 
A faster dance followed the waltz. They high-stepped and pranced around the
room, laughing. They came back together again and again as if drawn like
magnets. Soon they were both flushed and breathless. Clasping hands, they
pulled back and spun in a circle together. Harry tilted this head back and let
the spelled snow tickle his face just before it disappeared. It felt like a
dream, a perfect dream.
Just before the sun was began to rise, Draco took Harry by the hand and led him
back up the stairs to their room. Harry undressed him carefully, making sure to
hang Draco’s clothes so they weren’t damaged or wrinkled. 
Once Draco stood completely naked, he grinned wolfishly. “My turn, Harry.”
He slowly walked up and turned the smaller boy so that he was facing the bed.
He undid a few of the top buttons down Harry’s neck and laid soft kisses on the
soft skin that was revealed. 
Harry tilted his head forward, exposing more of his nape - love need
submission.
Draco undid the buttons ever so slowly, his lips kissing along his spine until
he got to the bow. Untying it, Draco felt like he really was opening a present.
Sliding his hands up Harry’s bare back, he slid his hands underneath the lace,
catching it and drawing it down Harry’s arms so that it caught on the boy’s
elbows. 
Turning him, Draco held Harry in place with an arm wrapped around his back and
began to suck and nibble at Harry’s sensitive nipples. Harry flung his head
back with a gasp, baby’s breath still woven through his hair, his lashes dark
and long, his cheeks and lips ruby red with desire. Draco had never wanted to
make him feel good so badly in his life. 
The dress slid off Harry’s narrow hips and puddled gracefully on the floor.
Draco pushed Harry on his back onto the bed. Panting, chest heaving with every
breath, Harry stared up at him with unconditional trust and love. Practically
growling, Draco slipped his hands under Harry’s butt and slid them up the back
of Harry’s thighs, pushing the boy’s legs up and open. Hands just above the
back of Harry’s knees, holding the boy’s legs up by his shoulders, he bent and
began to lick and suck on the small member hardening up against Harry’s belly. 
Harry gasped and moaned, back arching. His pupils were huge as he clutched at
the sheets. He called Draco’s name over and over. Just before he reached the
crest of pleasure, Draco released his legs and climbed on top of him, stabbing
his hips forward. Harry flung his arms around Draco’s shoulders and wailed, his
whole body overcome. Draco’s cry echoed his and they collapsed together in a
tangle of slender limbs that were damp with sweat. 
…
The next day the boys returned to Andromeda’s. The Tonks’ had already picked a
tree and decorated it with ornaments. They had spelled fairy lights of
different colors onto the tips of the branches, so it looked a lot different
from the one Draco and Harry had decorated with Narcissa and Lucius. 
Dora had set aside a few ornaments for Draco and Harry to hang and she bounced
around them happily, showing him which ornaments were hers and the stories
behind each one. They could hardly sleep as Dora kept them up most of the
night. The next morning was the twenty fifth, Gift Giving Day, and they all sat
together and began to pass out the many presents and packages that had been
left under the tree. 
Paper and ribbons went flying no matter how careful they were. Books, toys, new
baseball gear, and other odds and ends were given to the boys. Dora got a new
broom, a nice new journal, some clothes and robes, and jewelry. Andromeda was
given the ocean painting Ted had completed. Ted received new art supplies and
paints. 
After opening all their gifts, they ate lunch and went to play some baseball
with the boys new gloves and balls. Remus was invited and he arrived at the
park with a glove of his own. It was definitely lopsided and odd to play with
just six people, but they had fun.
Remus and the boys made up one side while Team Tonks made up the other. On one
play, Dora made an amazing hit on one of Harry’s pitches, but the bat flew out
of her hands and nearly took Remus’s head off, much to her mortification.
Andromeda was good at fielding the balls and Ted was a great batter, but Remus
had a powerful arm and could throw it back to Draco, who played catcher, before
anyone could get around the bases. In the end, the boys and Remus won. Harry
grinned proudly as Remus hoisted Draco up onto one shoulder and cheered their
captain.
Chapter end.
One more chapter and this story will be finished. I’ll be starting the sequel
soon, called Freedom Found in Defiance. It will start with the boys beginning
their First year at Hogwarts. I plan on taking a short break from posting to
write the first few chapters of the sequel and chart the plot. I plan on having
Chapter 60, the last chapter ofFreedom Bound in Chains,out May 13th or so. I
should start posting the sequel around Father’s day, June 18th, and I’ll
hopefully post every week after that.
Important:Let me know if you like how the first in the series is wrapping up.
How’s the pace? Also, please tell me anything you simply MUST see or know
before the time jump and the sequel starts.
***** Claiming Percy *****
A/N:Thank you Babyvfan, Larkscope, Lilypad1829, Ghythu, Mykkila09,
Twisted_and_shout, Asuka_Bloodberry, VictoryLilyGreen,
My_perversities,andEVERYONE who left such great comments on the last
chapter.You guys gave me GREAT ideas and input on what should be in the last
part of Freedom before the sequel, so that means there will an EPILOGUE chapter
added after this one! It will show brief snap-shot scenes of the more important
events we’d otherwise skip over: Bella being taken from Azkaban, the births,
and Pandora being the top three along with others. I plan to have that out next
week and then Freedom Bound in Chains will be officially concluded!
Claiming Percy
Boxing Day was always the first weekday after the 25th. That year the 25th fell
on a Friday, so it wasn’t until the next Monday that they were scheduled to go
to the Weasleys. Draco hadn’t cared one way or the other. The twins were
entertaining he supposed, but he could do without Ron’s childish attitude and
the girl’s silly simpering. However, ever since meeting the Weasleys’ at King’s
Cross, Draco had become more interested in the redheaded family. Something had
affected that Percy boy, and if it was something at Hogwarts, Draco wanted to
know about it. He wasn’t about to go into that madhouse of a school unprepared.
So he didn’t resist or complain as Andromeda woke them just after dawn. Really,
it was about the time they woke at the manor anyway. He smirked as Dora
stumbled and sleepwalked through getting dressed, but she was too groggy to
even notice. 
As they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry slipped his hand into
Draco's. It was bitterly cold. Their breath made clouds in the air and they
unconsciously huddled into the scarves wrapped around their necks. Ted smiled,
unaffected as he strolled along the quiet street, but Dora cuddled into her
mother’s side. The Leaky Cauldron was practically empty and they quietly made
their way to the floo. Andromeda and Dora went first, disappearing in a flash
of green. Then the boys followed with Ted waiting to come last. 
With a name like ‘the burrow’, Draco assumed it would be cave-like and
underground. Instead, he stumbled into a cozy, well-used living room with lumpy
couches and mismatched rugs. There were windows in odd places letting in the
golden rays of sunrise, giving the room an open and airy feel despite the
clutter. The whole room was saturated with the smell of delicious food. Molly
and Andromeda were hugging off to the side and Dora was unraveling her scarf.
Soon they were all made to sit while Molly and Andromeda went to the kitchen to
finish cooking breakfast. 
“Hiya!” 
Draco turned to look behind him and saw the nine-year-old twins descending the
wonky staircase at the back of the room. As was now familiar, both boys were
wearing matching grins.
“Good morning,” Harry greeted politely as the boys loped over to drape
themselves along the back of the couch next to Draco and Harry’s heads.
“Good morning,” Ted and Dora echoed. 
“Wanna see where we fly?” the twin next to Harry asked.
“Sure!” Dora piped and practically leapt to her feet. “I love flying. Are you
as good as your brother?”
“No one’s as good as Charlie,” the twin by Draco answered. He straightened in
perfect sync with his brother and they walked toward the door. The other twin
added, “But we can fly pretty good.”
Draco trailed behind them. His eyes drifted back to the stairs as they walked
past, but none of the other Weasley children came down. Frowning, he stepped
outside and made sure Harry was bundled up in his jacket, gloves, and scarf.
The twins teased him, calling him a mother hen, claiming they’d only be out a
few minutes, but Draco ignored them. Dora managed to distract them by knocking
into the broom shed and spilling all seven brooms across the yard.
They got everything straightened out and Dora took a lap. There was a barrier
up, so even though the brooms weren’t child-proof, they were still limited to a
certain area and a certain height. The twins pestered Draco until he agreed to
try riding one. They wanted Harry to try, too, but Draco was firm that the
smaller boy wouldn’t get on a broom until Draco tested it out first.
Dora floated about ten feet off the ground with an amused smirk. She thought it
was funny that Fred and George wouldn’t give up and kept throwing themselves
against the unbreakable wall that was Draco’s aloofness. The little blond
didn’t care one whit what anyone else thought. He’d only ever do what he
wanted, when he wanted. He was immune to peer pressure, manipulation, and
shame.
“You’re such worrywart!” Fred said in exasperation not for the first time.
“What do you think’s gonna happen to you?”
“Worse than Percy!” George added with a laugh.
Draco was straddling the broom, but he hadn’t kicked off yet. He still thought
this whole broom-flying thing was ridiculous. His interest was pricked when
they mentioned their older brother. “Percy worries a lot?”
“Always whining. He’s such a goody-two-shoes.” Fred rolled his eyes.
George cut his brother a look. “He’s been quiet since we got home. Mum’s
worried.”
“Who cares about Prissy Percy.” Annoyed, Fred shook the end of Draco’s broom.
“Come on, scardy-cat. Stop talking and get up there.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed, but he did gently kick off the ground the
way they’d shown him. Instantly he began to levitate in the air. His eyes
widened. It felt like gravity had lessened somehow. He rocked side to side and,
although it was possible to fall off, it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would
be. The broom was surprisingly stable. 
After a few minutes of experimentation and completely ignoring the twins who
continued to try to bait him to go faster and do more, he began doing slow laps
around the barrier. Dora followed after him, turning and diving, showing him
how to work the broom. Eventually he flew down to give Harry the okay to try. 
He watched like a hawk from a few feet above as the twins gave Harry the brief
lesson that they had given him. Harry pushed off and was soon at Draco’s side.
Exhilaration happy- sang through the bond, making Draco mirror Harry’s big
smile. 
They didn’t get to fly nearly long enough before Molly stepped outside and
called them to breakfast. Draco hadn’t expected how fun it would be or how much
Harry would like it. He wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist and whispered a
promise that he’d get them brooms for the manor, much to Harry’s - guilty
delight.
Dora fit in right at home with the twins. They teased each other over nearly
everything. Molly and Andromeda got on great, talking nearly non-stop, and
Arthur happily interrogated Ted about Muggle things. Bill and Charlie seemed
content to talk to each other. That gave Draco a good opportunity to try and
figure out the still withdrawn Percy. 
* Talk to Ron and Ginny, * Draco ordered, grey-eyes pinned on the First-year
boy.* Tell them about flying for the first time. *
Harry did a good job distracting the two youngest Weasleys. Draco watched Percy
carefully, but the boy rarely looked up. Even when Draco tried to talk to him,
he’d pretend not to hear half the time. Draco had gotten maybe ten words from
the kid by the time breakfast was over, but he was more certain than ever that
something had happened and it most likely had gone down at Hogwarts since the
other Weasleys seemed confused by Percy’s behavior. 
All the kids were sent outside after the meal. Charlie and Bill invited Dora to
play a game that involved flying and two balls. The twins bulled their way into
the game, but Ron was firmly shut down. The freckled boy instantly pouted with
his arms crossed. 
Draco was more interested in Percy as the kid wandered over to a bench next to
a vegetable garden. He took out a book, but it didn’t look like he was reading
it. Draco wandered that way with Harry at his side. Ron and Ginny followed. 
“It’s not fair! They never let me play with them. Fred and George are only two
years older! How come they can play?” Ron whined.
“I don’t get to play, either,” Ginny pointed out, huffing, but then she
brightened. “Let’s play something else!”
“What’re you reading?” Draco asked, standing in front of Percy closer than was
strictly polite.
The boy’s shoulders hunched in even further. He ignored Draco’s question.
“Mum’s gonna get real mad if you be rude to them, Percy!” Ron yelled. “You
better stop!”
“Let’s play Find ‘em, Catch ‘em,” Ginny offered, trying to distract her
brother.
“Only if Percy plays, too,” Draco decided and looked to Ginny to make it
happen. 
Within ten minutes, she had Ron and Percy ready to play with a combination of
threats and begging. Ron explained the rules, puffing out his chest as if he
were important. Apparently their house bordered a marsh. There were magical
creatures like gnomes and willow-the-wisp’s hidden among the tall grass and
reeds. The goal of the game was to find a magical creature and capture them.
The person with the best catch at the end was deemed the winner and had major
bragging rights. Ginny called start and she and Ron took off toward the marsh.
Harry looked over at Draco. Draco tilted his chin for him to go, so he took off
after the other two.
Alone at last, Draco grabbed Percy by the wrist and firmly led him over to the
nearest tall grass and crouched down, pulling Percy with him so that they were
out of sight of the group on brooms as well as the others searching for magical
creatures. Grey eyes piercing, he reached out and grabbed the older boy’s chin
to make him look in his eyes. Brown eyes wide behind his glasses, Percy tried
to pull away.
“Don’t move,” Draco ordered, voice low. 
Percy froze in his grip, his face pale.
“You’re going to tell me what happened to you at Hogwarts,” Draco told him
softly, never once blinking or looking away. “I’ll keep it secret if you want,
but you will tell me.”
Percy swallowed hard, tears rising in his eyes. He didn’t say a word. He tired
pulling away again, but Draco’s grip tightened painfully on his wrist and jaw,
hard enough to leave bruises and Percy froze again with a little whimper.
“You can either tell me yourself or I’m going to have to take it from you,”
Draco growled, eyes narrowed in a dangerous glare. When Percy still remained
silent and trembling in Draco’s grip, Draco shrugged his shoulders and grinned
maliciously. “Fine. We’ll do it the hard way.”
Slowly, deliberately, he brought Percy’s hand up to his mouth. Percy’s lips
parted as he began to pant softly, his heart thundering hard in his chest.
Tears spilled over his cheeks. He looked terrified. Draco put the boy’s index
finger in his mouth and softly bit down. Percy tried to jerk away, for real
this time, but Draco threw his weight forward and pinned the boy to the ground.
He bit down, tearing Percy’s skin and let the boy’s hot blood splash on his
tongue. 
I need to know what’s at Hogwarts. I need to know what hurt him. I have to
protect Harry,he thought with diamond hard will and felt his power stir at the
pit of his stomach. 
The blood on his tongue seemed to take on a thicker quality, it spread and
coated the inside of his mouth and the back of his throat. Eyelids fluttering
closed, Draco felt silence descend on his ears as the secret in Percy’s blood
unfolded. 
… It was dark… Dark and something heavy was crawling on him… A man, flabby and
musky… He was breathing fast but quietly as if he didn’t want to be heard…
Terrified, unable to move or scream… Pressed face-down, the feel of something
hard and slick between his thighs and against his butt… So scared, so confused…
The friction’s hot and makes his skin painfully raw until he’s wet and slick…
But no one sees, no one hears… Not even when the man gasp-grunts and splatters
his back with something hot and smelly… In the light, there’s nothing there; no
man, no marks, nothing… Just a bad dream. A nightmare. Not real… But no matter
how much he tells himself that, in the dark, he’s held down, helpless, so
utterly terrified… Alone. Friendless… Ashamed… He’s going crazy… 
Percy held perfectly still on his back, hardly breathing. His arms lay limp
beside him, one finger bleeding sluggishly into the dirt. He stared up at the
blond boy who was on his hands and knees above him with wonder. With his white
blond hair falling around his face, tears dripped from the little kid's cheeks
and chin, but he didn’t look sad or scared. He looked furious. Eyes gone
silver, he stared into Percy and Percy knew. He knew that Draco knew his
secret. Draco knew, but he wasn’t laughing or calling him crazy or a liar. He
knew, and he was pissed!
Hands clawing into the dirt, Draco panted through his rage as the physical
impressions from the vision faded from his mind. He felt like howling. How dare
they! Remus and Andromeda and Dora! How dare they claim Hogwarts is so great!
It was still happening! There were kids inside those walls being held down and
raped, and they had the gall to act like everything was fine! That it was safe;
that Harry would be safe! Draco had almost bought into it, but he knew now,
knew that nowhere was safe. That they were still out there: people who’d want
to fuck them, people who’d want to use them. They’d be after Harry’s fame, his
pretty face. They’d be after Draco’s power and name. They’d always be out
there, and Hogwarts wasn’t going to be any different. A soft whimper drew his
attention to the helpless kid underneath him; Percy was pale and drawn,
tormented. 
Draco bent his arms so their faces were closer together. “You don’t know who’e
is, do ya?” he whispered.
“No,” Percy whispered back, tears welling in his eyes once more. “Is he real?”
Draco flashed a blood-thirsty grin. “Oh, they’re real, the fuckers… But so’m
I.” 
He pinned the boy with a fierce look. This kid could be useful to him. He’d be
Draco’s eyes and ears in Hogwarts. He’d show Draco the truth about what was
going on there unlike the others who were either too naive or were trying to
manipulate him. 
“You want my help? I can make it so he don’t touch ya ever again, but you’d owe
me. You’d owe me forever.”
Percy gasped in a breath wet with tears. He let out a soft sob before catching
it. Closing his eyes, he nodded.
“Look at me!” Draco barked, raising his voice for the first time. “You want
this, you look at me! Swear. On your life and magic. Swear you’ll owe me
forever.”
Percy opened his eyes. He bit his lips so hard it bled. “Yes,” he said, crying
openly now. “I want it. I’ll owe you forever. I swear it on my life and magic.
Just make the man go away. Make the dark safe. Please.” Unable to take it
anymore, he covered his face with his hands and wept. 
Draco climbed off the kid and sat next to him. “Shit,” he cursed. Looking at
his muddy hands, he realized they were shaking. The vision had hit him hard.
He’d almost forgotten how real it’d felt to taste Harry’s blood and see the
boy’s name in his mind, to know his birthday and feel the weight of the
Darkness hunting Harry. It’d felt so real, and the knowledge of what was coming
for Harry still drove him, although lately it had faded a bit. Pandora’s
experiments had scared him off, but he remembered now and he wanted that
Blackness off of Harry’s core as much as ever.
Percy’s sobs finally came to a stop. The kid weakly pushed himself up into a
sitting position next to him. His eyes were red-rimmed behind his thin silver
glasses and he rubbed at them tiredly.
“You’ll talk yer mom into lettin’ us stay the night,” Draco ordered, staring
the boy down. “You got a room to yerself?”
“Share with Ron,” Percy rasped as he dragged his arm across his nose.
Draco gave him a hard look. “If you want me ta make the man go away forever,
prove it. Make it so that Harry and I are in the room alone with you.”
Percy nodded his head numbly. 
Draco stared at him a moment longer before getting up and walking away. He
followed the sounds of Ron, Ginny, and Harry’s voices, mind whirling. As soon
as they were back at the manor, he’d have Lucius contact Pandora. He had to
save Harry, but first he was going to save Percy.
Molly’s voice called out from the house. It was time to go to the races. She
had packed a light lunch that Bill and Charlie carried for them in two picnic
baskets. Smiling, Arthur held out a muddy boot. Draco sighed, gripped Harry’s
hand tightly in his own, and grabbed hold of a dangling shoestring. The portkey
flung them to a field where a race track and stands had been set up.
Draco hardly paid attention. Harry liked watching the horses, but he didn’t
really care about who won or lost. Harry would smile as Ron and Ginny jumped
around like maniacs whenever their horses came in first. Dora wasn’t much
better than them. She kept screaming out ‘yee-haw’ if her horse won, much to
Andromeda’s mortification. The twins were especially interested. They kept
whispering together and giggling like mad. Molly was clearly worried and kept
trying to figure out what they were doing, but it was useless. They’d just move
further away from her and stick out their tongues. Percy stayed quiet. He hung
back, pale and drawn. Molly fretted over him, worried that he was sick, but was
kept busy with everything else. So when they arrived back at the Burrow and
Percy asked if Draco and Harry could stay the night with him, she agreed
immediately. 
“Are you sure?” Dora asked. Her hair was cherry-red and shoulder-length,
falling into her blue eyes as she pouted at them. She only had three more days
with them before they returned to Malfoy Manor. She wouldn’t really get to see
them again for eight months, not until they returned to Andromeda’s in August. 
“It’s just one night,” Draco reassured her. “Percy has really interesting
books. I’d like to stay.”
Of course all Harry had to do was make his eyes big and pleading before
Andromeda caved immediately. She looked to Molly with a questioning smile.
“You’re sure you really don’t mind, Molly?”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” the older witch promised, delighted. She pulled Draco
and Harry into her arms for a hug, pressing them up against her amble bosom.
“They’re so polite it’ll be no trouble at all. I’m glad Percy has made friends
to be honest.”
It didn’t take much more maneuvering for Percy to arrange it so that Ron had to
share with Ginny for the night. Percy and Ron’s room was on the second floor.
Ginny’s room was directly across the hall. Ron and Ginny tried to hang out with
them, but Percy firmly sent them on their way and shut the door. That left them
alone, staring at each other, listening to Ron’s angry voice as it faded away.
* Someone’s been hurting him like Raymond hurt me and the way they hurt you in
the Basement, * Draco explained, still staring Percy down. * I’m going to mark
him, so they can’t do it anymore. You okay with that, Harry? *
- shock sympathy compassion - Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and leaned into him,
offering him support. He looked at Percy with gentle green eyes. “Draco will
take care of you,” he promised, trying to reassure the older boy.
Percy fidgeted, pale and flushed at the same time. He looked terrified and
desperate. His slightly curly, red hair hung over his forehead. It was short in
the back, but curled over his ears and forehead. Skinny with hunched shoulders
and glasses, he looked weak, an easy target, but not when Draco got through
with him.
“Dobby,” Draco called with deliberate force.
A long second elapsed before there was a soft pop and the small house-elf
appeared. “Young Master called Dobby, sir?” he asked with wide-eyes.
“Can the Weasleys’ tell you’re here?” he asked while jerking his chin slightly,
signaling Harry to get Percy ready. 
Harry gave a nod and moved to Percy’s side, gently guiding the older boy into
taking his shirt off. Percy was so distracted by the House Elf that he obeyed
the small brunet without thinking.
“No, Young Master. Not if Dobby doesn’t mess with the house and magics here,”
the little elf answered earnestly.
“I need your help again, Dobby.” Draco turned and faced him, placing his hands
on Dobby’s  tiny shoulders. “I’m going to give Percy a tattoo like Harry’s. You
said it’s linked to my magic, right?”
Dobby looked shocked, but he answered, “Yes, Young Master.” 
“I want it to hurt anyone who hurts him. Do you understand? I want it to do
what my magic does.”
Dobby began to twist his ears. “I’s not sure… Young Master’s magic was already
in Harry Potter before the mark, sir… That’s why it works like that, sir…”
“I’ll put my blood in the ink,” Draco suggested. “My magic likes blood. Would
that help?”
Dobby's eyes lit up as he considered that and he nodded like a bobble-head
doll. “Yes, Young Master! Yes, I’s thinking that be working!”
“Okay. Get what you need and make sure the Weasleys don’t know what we’re doing
in here.” 
Draco turned away from the elf to see Percy, his whole body trembling, sitting
on the edge of the bed. Harry sat next to him, completely naked, but Percy was
still wearing his smalls, clearly refusing to take them off no matter what
Harry said. 
Draco stepped over to his boy and ran his hand through his hair, calming him. *
You did great, Harry. I’ll do the rest. Be ready. *
Harry nodded and crawled over so that he was lying on the far side of the bed,
his green eyes watching Draco trustingly. 
Draco began to casually strip. 
Percy’s eyes went so wide that Draco thought they’d pop out of his head before
the boy turned his face away in embarrassment. 
“They used ta hurt me, too, ya know? The men in the dark.”
Percy gasped, head whipping back around. He gasped again as took in Draco’s
heavily scarred body. 
“Yeah. They hurt me.” Draco stepped forward and captured Percy’s jaw once more.
“But I made them stop and they never touched me again.”
Percy swallowed hard, staring up at Draco with desperate hope.
“It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna be weird, and you’re not going to like it, but
when it’s done, it’ll be over, and I give you my word no one will ever touch
you like that again,” Draco promised fiercely. He studied the boy’s frightened
face. “You still want my help?”
Percy chewed on his lip and fidgeted some more, but he nodded his head. “Yes.
Yes, I want him to go away.”
“Then ya gotta trust me.” Draco took the kid’s glasses off and stepped back. He
met Percy’s eyes squarely. “Take your clothes off.”
Percy bit his lip hard, but he got to his feet. He hesitated a long moment
before he yanked his smalls down and scurried under the covers. 
Draco gently brushed his red hair with his fingers. “Good.” He pushed Percy
over so that he was in the middle of the bed and climbed in next to him. “One
more thing.” He grabbed a fistful of Percy’s hair and forced him to look toward
Harry. His voice dropped, became soft and ice-cold with threat. “Harry’s mine,
Percy. You do anything ta hurt ‘em and I’ll tear you apart, got it?”
Percy winced as Draco pulled on his hair. “Yes. I understand.”
Draco snorted. No way did Percy understand, but he’d make sure the lesson stuck
if the kid ever crossed the line. “Good.”
Dobby returned with another soft pop. “I’s got it, Young Master.”
Draco gently maneuvered Percy so that he was lying mostly on his stomach and
draped over Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped the kid in his arms and looked over
his head, holding Draco’s gaze. Draco stared into Harry’s green eyes. Harry and
Percy didn’t know it, but this was for Harry. Percy would help keep Harry safe
at Hogwarts. 
“I want it to be a snake. A small one. Here at the base of his spine,” Draco
explained as he pulled down the blanket. 
Percy whimpered. His skin jumped as Draco touched him right at the small of his
back. Harry hushed him and held tighter as Percy instinctively jerked at the
touch. He began to cry. Dobby knelt as close as he could get to Percy’s hip. He
had the ink and needle ready. 
Draco pinned Percy’s legs with his knees and bit into his palm. Blood
splattered down, hitting Percy’s pale butt and back. Draco never once looked
away from Harry. He imagined Hogwarts, huge and overwhelming with a sea of
kids. Pictured Dumbledore’s manipulative, sparkling blue eyes. He felt again
that horrible Darkness pressing down on Harry, waiting to gobble him up. He’d
need help and Percy was going to give it to him. Someone was using Percy’s body
in the dark where no one could see. Just like Raymond had used Draco. Even now
the taste of that bastard’s cum was sharp in Draco’s memory. He’d never forget
it. The hatred that lived in Draco’s soul came to a boil and his power screamed
in answer. It filled his blood with poison as it dripped down to mix with the
ink as Dobby worked. 
‘Not yet. Wait,’ he told his magic. ‘You’re not for the kid, he’s to be kept
safe. I want to kill the bastard fucking him.’ The feeling of being held down
on a bed in the dark, of being pressed down and used as the man’s slimy dick
rutted against him burned like an inferno in his mind’s eye. ‘When he comes,
that’s when you’ll destroy him. Stay quiet until then…’
It seemed to last a single moment. The sounds of Percy’s pained whimpers and
muffled cries, Harry’s voice murmuring soft nothings, and the driving force of
Draco's hatred, it all bled into a smear of rage and sound until he was
suddenly collapsing sideways, vision going dark and tunneling in. Dobby was
saying something, but he had no idea what. He could hardly catch his breath.
Panicked, his body spasmed. He’d never felt so empty; he was crashing. His
heart stuttered in his chest… 
Then Harry was crawling over him. Warm fingers brushed his hair gently back,
the touch filled with love. Draco whimpered, feeling like that boy in the Hold
again, frozen through and devoid of life. Harry’s touch was salvation. His
heart gave a single hard beat before stopping again.
Those fingers trailed down his face, over his eyes and cheeks and lips. They
brushed his throat. Tears fell from Draco’s eyes as he tried to see his boy,
but everything was a dark blur. He arched with a gasp as a warm mouth
surrounded his nipple and Harry began to suck. His heart kicked again, then
again, trying to beat…
* Love you, anything for you, protect you, mine, Harry, just please don’t stop,
* he babbled incoherently through the bond. 
- LOVE protectiveness purpose -Harry released Draco's nipple with a soft pop
and looked adoringly up at the blond's face. He looked grey, his eyes dark and
empty, as if all the light had been drained from him. His breathing was too
fast and shallow. Harry slid up so he could softly kiss Draco’s lips. “I’ll fix
you,” he whispered into his ear. “Love you so much. Yours, I’m yours…”
Harry pressed himself against the blond, laying over his chest and settling
between his parted thighs, skin to skin. He kissed Draco’s lips again as he
began to rock his hips. Warmth filled Harry’s chest until it felt like it would
burst with love for this boy who took care of him, loved him, protected him,
who gave so much to protect others including Percy. 
Tears burned his cheeks as they fell and Harry felt the magic build. The bond
swelled with the push-pull of their magics locking together in sync with the
rocking of their hips. Harry slid his hand down Draco’s arm and grabbed the
blond’s wrist. He pulled the slowly bleeding hand to his mouth and latched on.
He sucked hot blood into his mouth and felt the sizzle of Draco’s magic filling
his center.
Draco was moaning now, loud and long. His other hand clumsily grabbed for
Harry’s hip, pulling the smaller boy harder against him. Harry rocked faster,
eyes fastened to Draco’s face, watching as the grey faded from his skin and
Draco’s eyes began to brighten. 
Sweat slicked their bodies and they began to slide more fluidly. Faster until
they were grunting and grabbing at each other in desperation; the magic slammed
through them like a tsunami. Harry’s body arched in a rigid line as he bit down
on the now unbroken skin of Draco’s hand. Throbbing from he'd to toe, he
collapsed over Draco, panting and shaking with pleasure.
Draco wrapped Harry in a hug. He lay there, limp as a cooked noodle, for a long
moment before be brushed Harry’s damp bangs from his forehead. Sleepy green
eyes peered back at him. Draco kissed his lightning scar and propped himself up
carefully to check on Percy. 
The kid lay sprawled on his stomach next to them. A red snake, curled up almost
into a ball, sat at the base of the kid's spine. It was perfectly healed - most
likely from the overflow of Harry’s healing magic. The deep blood red was
almost metallic with each tiny scale shaded in black. The snake was about half
the size of Draco’s fist and a forth of the size of Harry’s dragon. As he
watched, yellow-green eyes opened and the tiny mouth yawned. A bead of poison
tipped a delicate fang.
Satisfied that all was well, Draco grabbed the covers and flopped back down,
covering all three of them. He groaned as he realized the sun was coming up. It
had been over eight hours since they had started. Harry cuddled up against him,
already asleep, and Draco couldn’t help smiling. Holding Harry close, he closed
his eyes.
…
Percy had been terrified and had wanted to back out when they had started
taking off their clothes. I mean, what could two little kids do? It was crazy!
But the way Draco looked at him, it was so… strong, so certain. And it was
Harry Potter! They all grew up hearing tales of Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. He
did the impossible. He defeated You-Know-Who as a baby. The memory of being
held down by a man in the dark was never far away. He felt sick and dirty. He’d
do anything to get it to stop. So he took off his clothes and got into bed. 
He hated it when Draco had pushed him over onto his stomach, but Harry was so
nice. There was no judgment in his eyes. He seemed older, like Draco did,
somehow. Percy felt weirdly comforted. But then it hurt! It burned and froze at
the same time, and he thought he was going to go mad from it! It went on and
on. He had to bite down on a pillow to keep from screaming. If Draco wasn’t
holding down his legs and Harry wasn’t squeezing him so tight, he would have
flung them both to the floor. It HURT so much! But as it went on the feeling of
hands gripping him and a heavy body pressing him down faded. He felt almost
clean, like he was free.
In a numb haze, he realized he didn’t hurt so bad anymore. He felt light.
Moaning sounded from beside him and he cracked his eyes open to see Harry on
top of Draco. They were rocking together and something was building in the
room. Something that pressed and pulled in pulsing waves. Draco’s mouth was
open, his eyes closed. Harry was clutching Draco’s hand to his mouth as he
rolled and rocked his hips faster and faster. His eyes were wild, light
illuminating the green so that they glowed faintly. Then it was as if lightning
struck. Harry arched back, tense as a board. Draco’s eyes flew open, a shinning
silver, as they stared up at Harry. A wall of magic hit Percy and his mind
snapped off. 
He woke to the sound of Ron banging on the door. “It’s time for breakfast! Come
on!”
Percy sat up slowly. He expected to hurt, to feel shaky or broken, but he felt
great. He hadn’t felt this way since before Hogwarts. Wide-eyed he turned to
the side to see Harry sprawled across the blond’s chest, snoring softly. Grey
eyes blinked sleepily open. Percy stared back, not sure what to say.
“Hey! Percy! You up? Why’s the door locked?” Ron called, banging again. “What’s
so special about your stupid books anyway?”
“We’re up!” Percy yelled back. “Go away!” He knew he’d pay for that later. Ron
would be pouty and pissed all day. 
Draco and Harry completely ignored the exchange. They were up and pulling on
their clothes. They kept brushing each other’s arms and shoulders with their
hands, their eyes kept meeting. It wasn’t much different from Fred and George,
but the memory of the two boys rocking together was burned on the back of his
eyes and made him blush fiercely even though he wasn’t sure why. He knew
instinctively that want Draco and Harry did last night was secret and probably
naughty. Something like what the man had done with him, but at the same time
completely different.
Sharp grey eyes cut over to him. “Come here.”
Percy climbed out of bed and shakily pulled on his smalls. Draco stopped him
from putting any more clothes on, so he stood there blushing and sweating and
completely panicked. 
Draco tugged Harry closer by his hand and turned Percy so that they were behind
him. Percy shifted nervously making Draco roll his eyes. * Can you talk to it,
Harry? *
Harry obediently stared at the snake. It was curled up, it’s head resting over
a its own coils.“Can you hear me?” he asked carefully, brow scrunched in
concentration.
Small yellow eyes opened as the triangular head lifted. It didn’t answer back.
Harry looked to Draco for more instructions. 
* Tell it to protect Percy and bite anyone who holds him down and takes off his
clothes, *Draco ordered.
Harry obediently passed on the message, adding, “If he’s ever crying, you can
move so he can see you.”Being able to see the white dragon embedded under his
skin was a huge comfort to Harry. Percy might like the reminder Draco was
protecting him, too. 
“Wh-what are you d-doing?” Percy whispered fearfully. The soft hissing noises
from behind him made the hairs on his arms stand on end.
“We’re done,” Draco said, releasing the grip he’d had on Percy’s hips,
preventing him from moving while Harry spoke to the snake. “Get dressed. I
don’t have to tell you not to show anyone your back, do I?”
Percy shook his head quickly and practically threw his clothes on. 
At breakfast, Draco and Harry acted no differently than they had the day
before. Fred and George were doing their back and forth thing, Ginny was trying
to get Harry’s attention, Ron was glaring down at every bite he took, Charlie
and Bill were talking about school, Mum was cooking, and Dad was reading the
paper. It was like the whole world hadn’t completely and utterly changed the
night before. 
Percy’s heart began to pound in his chest. He felt so lost and confused! He
stared at the blond desperately, needing something. Reassurance maybe? Or
acknowledgement that last night had really happened and he wasn’t losing his
mind? 
Sensing his gaze, Draco looked over at him and it was as if something not quite
human looked out from his grey eyes. Strangely, Percy’s heart began to slow. He
wasn’t afraid. Somehow those steel grey eyes made him feel safe, told him last
night was real, that the magic worked and the man would never come again in the
dark. Percy ducked his head, a smile brushing his lips.
“How was your visit, hon?” his mum asked, pulling him into a hug as the Draco
and Harry flooed away. 
Percy pushed his glasses up his nose and gave her a small smile. “Fine.”
Later that day, he caught Fred and George making bets by owl on other races.
Apparently they had won five galleons at the Boxing Day race and were looking
to increase their winnings. Percy snatched away their betting parchment and the
bag holding the galleons.
“Gambling is dangerous! What would have happened if you had lost? Mum and Dad
would have been forced to pay for you, and you know money is tight after Yule,”
he scolded them fiercely.
“Give that back!” the two boys yelled furiously, jumping to their feet to glare
up at their older brother.
Percy turned and ran. The twins chased him and would have caught him, but he
made it to the kitchen door just as he felt two hands grab the back of his
shirt. “Mum! Fred and George are gambling!” he yelled.
The twins glared hotly as they were sent outside with stinging bottoms and were
told to weed the garden as punishment. As they slunk past their older bother,
they muttered about how they liked it better when Percy first came back from
school. Percy ignored them. 
Once the twins were gone, Mum gave Percy a huge hug and a cookie. “I know they
aren’t easy little brothers to have, but you’re a good big brother, Percy.” 
Smiling, Percy went in search of Bill and Charlie.
Chapter end.
A/N:I am dying to know what you guys think of this chapter! Would you believe
me when I tell you that I had NO IDEA this was going to happen? Is it brilliant
or did you find it unnecessary?
Be on the lookout for the Epilogue around Mother’s Day!Freedom Bound in Chains
is officially ending. :D
***** Epilogue *****
A/N: OMG! It’s finished! I promise to revisit any important things we skipped
over during the sequel. Thank you for sticking with me on this journey that
started years before I began posting in March of 2016. I’ve attempted to write
this story three times now, and I’m over the moon that I was finally able to
finish. I hope I can be just as successful in the sequel: Freedom Found in
Defiance. Be sure to check it out! I should have the first chapters up by the
end of June 2017. 
Epilogue
1988
Births and Prisons
Pandora visited the boys several times throughout the year. She wasn’t able to
discover how to remove the Black magic attached to Harry’s core, much to Draco
and Lucius’s frustration, but she continued to advance her research. She was
certain that she’d be able to find a away to free Harry and she counseled Draco
to have patience.
…
Lucius stood from his desk in his study with controlled force and faced the
window with tension in the hard line of his shoulders and jaw. 
Draco watched him impassively. He wasn’t any happier about it than Lucius. He
wanted his boy free! But he wasn’t going to throw a fit, either. 
As if sensing Draco’s judgment, Lucius turned and glared at his son. “Don’t you
think it’s significant that the Unspeakable cannot find a way to remove the
Black magic from Harry’s core even after all this time?”
Draco tilted his head against his fist, eyes falling half-closed, bored.
Lucius flushed with rage at his son’s insolence. “There is no freeing Potter
from the Dark Lord’s hold, Draco, but there may still be a chance to unravel
this bond…”
Draco’s gave a soft laugh. He got to his feet, a smile curling his lips.
“You’re a fool if you think that.” He shook his head. “You should kiss Harry’s
feet, Lucius. Without him, I wouldn’t have stayed five minutes in this house.
If you had tried to stop me from leaving, I would have killed you.” His eyes
brightened, gaining a metallic edge. “I could still kill you if you even think
of interfering with my bond.”
Lucius slammed his hand on the desk. “I don’t understand this! You act like I
am the enemy for wanting you to live! It’s not as if I haven’t grown fond of
the boy, but what is the point of both of you dying? You could still be
together, still be close, without the bond. You would simply have a life beyond
the boy. I’m sure he would wish that as well!”
“I’m sorry you don’t understand, but it’s not an option. It’ll never be an
option.” Draco held his father’s desperate gaze for a long second. “I’m going
to do everything in my power to protect Harry and free him from his curse. I
might come up short, but I’m not planning on it. You’re just going to have to
trust that I can save him.”
Lucius lowered his head before straightening and turning back to the window.
“Keep me informed of the Unspeakable’s progress,” he requested quietly.
Draco said nothing to that, leaving the man alone to stew in his fears.
…
While Hogwarts was open Percy stayed in contact with Draco. The man in the dark
never came again. In return for protection, Percy became Draco’s spy at the
school. Driven by Draco’s need, he quickly learned how to sniff out wrong doing
among the students and staff, but he never told anyone except Draco what he
found, so he wasn’t completely ostracized. However, those who were caught by
Percy avoided him and it had a ripple effect, making most of the student body
avoid him, too. That left Percy plenty of time to focus on his studies. He soon
became top of his class, beating out the Ravenclaws for highest grades. 
… 
Perhaps the most significant thing that occurred during 1988 was the birth of
Denebola Regina Tonks and Septimus Lysander Weasley:
It was the last day in April. Draco and Harry were scheduled to return to
Malfoy Manor in the morning. They were just falling asleep when Ted knocked on
their door. 
Draco’s eyes flashed open and he sat up, fully alert. In almost a year, no one
had knocked on their door in the middle of the night. Adrenaline sizzled along
his nerves. “Yeah?”
“Get dressed! We’re going to the Leaky Cauldron!” Ted called anxiously.
Draco knew instantly this was about the baby. Andromeda looked like she had a
ball under her dresses and sweaters, but it was too early. The due date wasn’t
until the end of July. The boys quickly got dressed. Ted was already at the
door, supporting Andromeda who was bent over, clutching her stomach. 
Magical travel was too risky this late in the pregnancy, especially with
something wrong happening, so they had to get somewhere where they could summon
a healer. Harry felt - guilty - knowing it was because of his fame that they
weren’t able to summon a healer to their house. His eyes were impossibly wide
behind his glasses, his - panic fear - pounding through the bond. 
A taxi was waiting for them outside. Draco was forced to ride up front while
Harry, Andromeda, and Ted took up the the backseat. It was only a five minute
drive to the Leaky Cauldron, but halfway there Andromeda began to scream in
pain.
* Do it, *Draco commanded, turning fully around so he was looking into the
backseat.
Harry immediately licked his palm. Ted tensed but allowed the small child to
slip his hand under Andromeda’s shirt to touch her rounded belly. Draco watched
his boy like a hawk. He could feel Harry’s magic building as a gentle pressure
against his skin; it felt like sunlight. A lot of the tension in Andromeda’s
frame eased. Ted clutched her to his chest, wide-eyed.
Harry was only touching her a few minutes, but he was already deathly pale.
Alarmed, Draco was about to order him to stop when they arrived. Ted helped
Andromeda out of the cab, pulling her from Harry’s reach. Draco practically had
to drag Harry into the inn. The boy’s knees kept giving out. It terrified him.
Harry had healed way worse before. Why had it taken so much out of him? Was
Andromeda that bad off? Or was something else going on?
Ted took Andromeda to a room upstairs, calling for Tom to summon a healer.
Draco and Harry were told to wait downstairs in the pub. Harry rested against
Draco, putting his head on the blond’s shoulder. They watched a healer in green
arrive. She had short black hair and had a suitcase with her. Tom hurried her
upstairs. Thirty minutes later Dora arrived with a short, plump woman with
greying blond hair. 
Dora rushed to the boys, her hair short and brown, her eyes black with worry.
She flung her arms around Draco, trembling. “Is she okay? What’s happening?” 
“Don’t know,” Draco answered her softly. He made no move to dislodge the teen's
grip. He could feel her heart pounding hard and fast as she pressed up against
him.
“I’m sure everything will be fine,” the woman from Hogwarts told them kindly.
Draco turned his face away so she wouldn’t see his glare. Empty promises and
false hope were cruel. 
Silently, Dora settled next to Draco on the bench seat, hugging his arm for
comfort, and joined them in watching the stairs. 
An hour later another healer arrived. Tom appeared at the top of the stairs and
ordered the healer to follow him. He was sweating and mopped at his face with a
white rag he usually used to clean tables with. They both disappeared again. 
“Giving birth takes time,” the woman tried to reassure them. “That’s not
unusual.”
“You don’t know what’s happening up there any more than we do,” Draco snapped.
Harry whimpered and Draco instinctively began stroking the boy’s messy hair.
“Can you get him some water and a muffin or something? He’s not feeling well.”
The woman’s surprise at his angry tone melted into an understanding smile. “Of
course. Let me see what I can find.”
Draco had to coax Harry into drinking and eating, but it made Harry’s hands
stop shaking at least. Draco was less than impressed. He had no idea what went
wrong. The only other times Harry had grown this weak after healing was when
he’d healed Draco’s shoulder when he'd been shot. He’d also gotten pale when
he’d healed Liam’s hand at the zoo and he’d fainted the very first time he’d
healed Draco’s cuts in the Hold. 
Draco narrowed his eyes as he considered the evidence. Very rarely did Harry
heal when they weren’t also together physically. When they made each other feel
so good, their power always merged and grew bigger. Maybe Harry’s healing magic
was dependent on that boost?
His thoughts were interrupted by Dora’s grip tightening painfully around his
arm. He looked up and realized the healer who had arrived last was coming
downstairs. He had short, grey hair and a craggy, thin face. He was tall and
skinny, but his forearms were muscular and his hands looked wide and strong. 
“Tonks?” he asked softly.
“Y-yes,” Dora stuttered fearfully. 
The man gave her a smile. “They are both doing well. Your mother is waiting for
you upstairs. After she’s rested a few minutes, we’re going to transport her
and the baby to St. Mungo’s to be sure they are both healthy.”
Dora practically ran up the stairs. Draco and Harry followed more slowly. Harry
had his color back and felt stronger, but Draco didn’t want him running around
just yet.
The room Andromeda was in had a metallic smell. She was in the bed, propped up
against the headboard. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun on top of her
head. She looked pale and there were dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes,
but they were practically glowing with happiness. In her arms, wrapped in a
white baby blanket, was a tiny baby with dark hair and a small wrinkled face.
Dora was sitting next to her mother. Her hair had brightened to blond and her
eyes were a bright, happy blue as she stared into the face of her little
sister. 
Ted held his hands out to the boys and pulled them in closer to the side of the
bed. He looked nearly as exhausted as Andromeda, but he wore a large, goofy
grin. “Only four pounds twelve ounces,” he told them, voice hoarse and proud.
“Tiny little thing, isn’t she? But she’s strong. Her name is Denebola Regina
Tonks.”
Dora groaned and playfully nudged her mother’s shoulder. “Dean-bol-ah?” she
asked, sounding it out. “Really? That’s worse than Nymphadora.”
Andromeda chuckled. “What can I say? Naming things is my gift.” Growing more
serious, she gently traced her finger over the baby’s forehead and round little
nose. “One of my favorite cousins was named Regulus. He died when he was only
eighteen years old. I saw him during Samhain. I feel like it’s because of his
blessing that I was able to have her. Denebola is the star opposite Regulus in
the constellation Leo, and Regina means queen.”
Dora sighed and gently touched the baby’s hand. “Hey, Dee. I promise never to
call you by your name, so you better call me Dora, too, okay?”
Andromeda, Ted, and Dora went to St. Mungo’s shortly after that while Draco and
Harry flooed back to Malfoy Manor and delivered the news of Denebola’s birth.
Narcissa was shocked to hear the baby had come so early, but she was happy that
her sister and niece were both safe and healthy. 
It turned out that Molly also had her son that day, although he wasn’t born
until sundown. Both she and the baby had come close to death, but the healers
were able to save them. Septimus Lysander Weasley was named after Arthur’s
father and weighed only four pounds two ounces. Molly and the baby stayed in
the hospital nearly two months before they were released to return home.
Andromeda and Ted decided to move once Dee was born. They found a five bedroom
house on Mount Road in New Maiden. It was about an hour’s drive south-west from
their old place on Charing Cross Road. The was tall and narrow, three stories
high, and painted white with a blue door. Much like the Black Family home on
Grimmauld Place, it stood nearly touching the neighboring houses on either
side. 
Because they were now farther away from the magical world, Andromeda and Ted
joined the floo network. Doing so technically made it possible for wizards to
find them, so they also bought a protection plan to keep their information and
location more secure. They also spent the next year layering warding and
protection magic on their home and even their street. 
It was a lovely house, though. Well worth all the money and effort. The front
door opened up on a spacious sitting room followed by a elegant dining room. A
kitchen sat at the back of the narrow house, which opened up to a long, fenced-
in yard. Andromeda began a garden back there that Harry delighted in helping
her with. 
The second floor had the master bedroom, the baby’s room, a full bathroom, and
a small art room for Ted. (Ted had to give up his spot in the Painter’s
Warehouse to help pay for their new place.) The top floor had two medium-sized
rooms, one for Dora and one for the boys, along with a second full bathroom.
…
Bill Weasley, Molly’s eldest son, graduated Hogwarts at the end of June and
surprised his parents with the news that he’d been accepted to a school in
Egypt with a full scholarship. He was going to study curse breaking.  
Around that time, Draco was also able to master the spell Snape had taught him:
… 
Sitting in Lucius’s dimly lit office, Severus and Draco sat across from each
other. Draco sat back, sweat dampening his brow, smug. He had successfully cast
Separanta Aerisfor the first time. Eight years old and he had mastered the
spell in little over a year. 
Severus gifted the young boy with a rare smile, his dark eyes gleaming in
satisfaction. “Well done,” he praised softly.
Draco flashed his teeth in a grin. “So how do we know it worked?”
“We test it. Repeat after me: Memoria,” Severus intoned, emphasizing the middle
syllable. Draco repeated the word until Severus was certain he had it
perfectly. “Now I’m going to trigger a flashback. When you feel it begin to
happen, I want you to visualize the memory being placed in a bubble and cast
Separanta Memoria. It should last a least an hour, but then you will have to
face the trauma.”
Draco sat still for a long moment. Unknown to Snape, he was communicating with
Harry, telling the boy what to expect and to be ready to help him through the
flashback later. Harry responded with a warm gush of - protective love
confidence - making Draco’s lips twitch into a smile. Harry had come a long way
and Draco was proud. 
“I’m ready,” he finally said, meeting Severus’s dark eyes.
Severus nodded his head and dove into Draco’s mind. Once inside, he reached out
for a memory with violently charged emotion and quickly retreated. He watched
as Draco tensed in the chair, his fingers digging into the leather armrests.
His pale face bleached white as his lips shaped the spell. 
A moment of confusion overcame Draco’s features. Tension ran out of his frame
and color returned to his face. “It worked,” he said, mopping at his face with
his sleeve. “Doesn’t feel good, but I can function.”
Severus bowed his head with genuine respect. “Congratulations, Draco. You
should be exceedingly proud of yourself for mastering this spell in such a
short amount of time.”
Draco smiled ruefully. “Thank you for continuing my lessons after…” He let the
sentence trail off. They both knew Draco was talking about the time when they
had nearly come to blows and he had seen Severus’s memories regarding Lily.
That moment was best left in the past. 
The office door opened softly. Harry shut it behind himself and padded quietly
to Draco’s side. He leaned against the side of the chair, but he made no move
to touch Draco without the blond’s permission. 
“Harry,” Severus greeted, expression softening the way it did only for the
messy-haired child. However, when he saw the bruises around Harry’s thin
wrists, he frowned and cut disapproving eyes back toward the blond.
Draco sighed. Severus was never going to understand or agree with his
relationship with Harry. He stood and said gently, “Thank you again, Snape. I
trust you can see yourself out.”
Severus’s mask fell over his features, becoming foreboding once more. He gave a
sharp nod of his head and swept from the room, his robes flaring around his
ankles. 
…
Two other important occurrences happened at the end of 1988:
Narcissa and Lucius took the boys into the woods where there was a clearing
just inside the Malfoy wards to celebrate Samhain with a bonfire. They ate
apples and lit candles for those who had passed away, but the fairies did not
come for Draco to lead a Great Hunt.
Harry stepped up to Narcissa, taking her hand. “Are you well?” he asked her
softly, easily seeing the sadness in her face.
Narcissa smiled tearfully down at the sweet child. “I had hoped to be invited
into a faerie ring as Andromeda was last year.”
“Why?” Harry asked full of concern.
Narcissa’s gaze looked ahead to where Lucius led the way out from the woods.
The man’s strong back and long hair seemed etched in soft silver from the
moonlight. “There is a curse on the Malfoy men because of their ambition
hundreds of years ago. They can only produce one male child every generation.
Many times the Malfoy line has come close to extinction due to this curse, but
the Malfoys have protected their sons and survived. I was hoping that a faerie
circle could break the infertility curse or at least bend it. Those with Sacred
Blood are so few now.”
Harry hated that Narcissa was so sad. He followed her gaze to Lucius’s back and
wondered if he could help with his healing magic.
Draco stepped close to his boy, synching their steps. His voice entered Harry’s
mind, soft yet implacable. * No, Harry. You can’t heal something that big
unless we build our power by coming together. I won’t give that to Lucius.
Besides, I don’t think it would work. He’s not ill or hurt. He needs a curse
breaker not a healer. *
Harry bowed his head - acceptance regret submission.
Narcissa wiped at her eyes. “I will be fine,” she assured them. “It was a brief
hope. I agreed to this marriage knowing I would have only one child.” She gave
Draco a loving smile. “I am very happy with the child I have.” Her eyes moved
to take in Harry, glasses and messy hair and all. “And that son has brought me
another child to love. I am blessed.”
Harry blushed hotly as she tenderly stroked his hair.
Narcissa smiled happily. She still remembered last Yule when Harry and Draco
danced in secret. It had been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The
pure love and adoration these two had for each other was something so rare for
humans to possess. Harry had been absolutely breathtaking in the gown she had
chosen and Draco had practically glowed with pride and affection. She hadn’t
stayed long, standing Disillusioned in the corner. Just long enough to see the
boys together and take a few pictures that she had locked away in her vanity to
be treasured.
Taking Harry’s hand once more, she tucked away her regret over not having any
more children and her regret over missing out on so much of Draco’s childhood
and chose instead to be happy with what she had been given. She was indeed
blessed to know these boys and be a part of their lives.
…
The last event of significance that occurred in 1988 happened in December -
although only two people knew about it: 
Lucius had spent hours over the course of the year planning and preparing to do
something impossible: he was going to break someone out of Azkaban. He bound
his accomplices with Unbreakable Vows, he bought rare ingredients and items, he
bribed guards and learned all he could about Dementors, and on the night of
Winter Solstice, the darkest night of the year, everything was ready. 
He had built a perfect golem that needed only Bellatrix’s hair to be complete.
He had a thief in place to get the golem in and Bellatrix out. The prison was
at its emptiest; no one wanted to guard it when the Dark was at its most
powerful and Yule was a time to be safe at home celebrating with family. The
Dementors had been given several sacrifices and were content to leave Lucius’s
thief alone. 
While his plan went into motion, Lucius performed the Solstice rituals with his
family. Narcissa and the boys remained ignorant as they decorated their tree
and burnt the Yule log. Hours later, they went to bed happy and at peace as the
sun began to rise. Lucius instead went to the dungeon below the manor. 
There, in the farthest cell, was the thief he’d hired. With him was Bellatrix
Black, Narcissa’s younger sister. She was disgustingly thin and her black,
curly hair heavy had matted into dreadlocks. Her blue eyes - the same shade as
Narcissa’s - were huge in her skeletal face, making her look younger than her
thirty-seven years. Bellatrix took one look at him and began to laugh, high-
pitched and insane. 
Wordlessly Lucius Obliviated the thief who’d stolen her. He packed the man's
pockets with the payment they had agreed on and sent him on his way. Turning
back to the cell, he stalked toward the filthy woman. Smooth as a hunting cat,
he crouched down and grabbed her by her matted hair, yanking her head back and
making her look him in the eye. He stared at her without an ounce of
compassion.
“You dared take my son from me,” he told her darkly, voice as cold as his eyes.
She struggled weakly but couldn’t break from his grip. Furious and hissing, she
clawed as his wrist. “I’m never going to let you go, maggot.” Shoving her head
back by the grip he had on her hair, the woman’s skull cracked against the
stone wall and she crumpled, unconsciousness. 
Lucius stormed out of her prison, slamming the door behind him.
1989
Baseball Champions
Draco, Harry, and the Tonks family visited the Weasleys often throughout the
year. In fact, that summer Ron was made to join the boys’ baseball league. At
first, there was a lot of tension between Draco and Ron. Ron resented
constantly being told what to do, but as they practiced for hours together and
their team advanced through the summer tournament, Ron began to appreciate that
Draco treated everyone that way. Even adults! 
The coach had begun to listen more and more to the little blond as Draco
demonstrated his understanding of the game and his ability to strategize. Plus
their best pitcher would only play if Draco was his catcher. Harry may be the
smallest on the team and his throws were on the slow side, but he had amazing
ball control for a kid his age. He could pitch to all four corners of the
plate. This earned him a lot of strike outs. When other players did get a piece
of the ball, it usually popped up and was easy to catch. Coach wanted to win,
so he decided to see just what Draco could do and made him team captain.
Some of the older kids weren’t happy about that. Draco was one of the youngest
on the team and seemed to come from out of nowhere. They especially didn’t like
the way Draco gave orders, followed by cold looks if they didn’t get it right.
One day, after a particularly hard practice when Draco had gone off on one of
the older kids for not trying hard enough, Ron came into the locker room to see
two of the older kids kicking Draco while he was curled in a ball on the ground
while Harry furiously fought off another one, screaming with fury. Ron jumped
in without thinking. When the coach finally separated them, all three were
bruised and bloody, but the older kids looked even worse. In fact, the ring-
leader came away with a broken wrist and wasn’t able to play for the rest of
the season. Draco had broken it, exploding to his feet once it became one-on-
one.
Everyone was too scared to fight Draco after that, not with Harry and Ron
backing him up. Besides, they won their first game against a really famous,
rich team. The rest of the team saw Draco in a new light. Draco knew what he
was doing, and if they wanted to win, they’d shut up and do what he said. By
the end of the summer, they won the whole tournament. For the very first time,
their team was given trophies and had their pictures in the paper.
Ron had grown to tolerate the bossy little blond, but he still wouldn’t say
they were friends. Harry, on the other hand, he liked a lot. He was nice and
always made Ron feel like he was important to the team. Of course, Ron would
like Harry a whole lot more if he didn’t obey Draco’s every word and expect
everyone else to do so, too. Even growing up with weirdo twins like Fred and
George, Harry and Draco were a little much to deal with. 
Ron would also like Draco better if the blond didn’t clearly favor Percy when
his older brother was home. What was so great about Percy anyway? He also hated
it that Timmy, the new baby, just seemed to adore Draco. He’d cry until he was
placed next to the blond whenever Draco was in the room. He never did that for
Ron! And it only seemed to annoy Draco, which only pissed Ron off more.
The only good thing about that year in Ron’s opinion was the fact that Fred and
George went off to Hogwarts in September. They were both placed in Gryffindor
House. The Burrow was much quieter after that. Ron was now the oldest for most
of the year with only Ginny and Timmy at home and he began to relax, revealing
a more cheerful disposition. 
… 
In October of the same year, Pansy, Vincent, and Gregory came to Malfoy Manor
for a playdate with Harry and Draco. Pansy and Harry were trotting around the
lake on Caelius and Pansy’s horse, Messalina. Her father had finally given in
and bought one. It was about the size of Caelius and Agrippa who had by now
finished growing. 
The twin Arabian stallions stood at 15 hands or 61 in/155cm. Their coat was a
rare pristine white that Lucius was famous for breeding. Most Arabians were in
a grey scale, brown, or black. Their long hair was only slightly darker, and
their arched necks and graceful legs made them look deceptively fragile. In
truth, their dense bones and solid skeletal structure made them stronger than
many bigger breeds. 
Messalina was a beautiful bay-colored Thoroughbred mare with white on her lower
legs and running down her nose. She stood a little bigger than Caelius and
Agrippa at 15.2 hands or 62 in/ 157cm, but she had a smaller, more narrow head
and a slightly longer neck. She was a very spirited horse and would side-step
and prance if kept to a slow pace for too long. Pansy adored her. 
Pansy and Harry talked of simple things as they watched Draco, Vince, and Greg
sprint across the field next to them on their stallions Agrippa, Maximus, and
Galen. It seemed like an uneven race at first. Vince and Greg had brought their
Friesians horses that stood at 17 hands or 68 in/173 cm, which made them bigger
than Agrippa. However, the hot-blooded Agrippa had won three out of five
competitions that the boys had already thought up. 
Greg’s Maximus was the typical dark black for a Friesian, the long hair thick
and almost shaggy and growing long around the hooves. Vince’s Galen was a more
rare dark red or rowan color. Agrippa’s white coat stood out like a beacon
among the two dark horses. 
“I can’t wait to go to Hogwarts,” Pansy was saying. “Only two more years. I’ll
meet lots of people there.” Her eyes regarded the three boys now doing a weird
zig-zag pattern, likely showing off their turning ability. “Mother expects me
to marry one of them, but she’s hoping for Draco. Greg and Vince might be a
little too inbred, at least that’s what all the ladies say.”
“Marry…” Harry repeated, eyes wide. His eyes followed Draco.
Pansy looked over at Harry with a concerned smile. “I like you a lot Harry, but
Mother would prefer a match from the scared families and you have Muggle
blood.”
Harry looked away from her worried eyes and returned his attention to Draco. “I
know,” he said matter-of-factly.  
It wasn’t news to him that he was filthy. He hadn’t thought for a minute that
he’d be worth marrying Pansy. No, what he’d been trying to imagine was who
could marry Draco and he was drawing a blank. Pansy, Vince, and Greg were nice,
so were Ron and Ginny and the twins, Dora was great, too, but none of them were
a match for Draco whose eyes went silver and whose hands could give as much
pain as they did pleasure. Harry couldn’t imagine any of their peers
withstanding the force that was Draco.
Messalina gave a sudden whinny, rising up on her back legs and dropping down
into a nervous prance. Pansy gave a cry and Caelius side-stepped away from the
two right into the lake. He lost his balance and toppled into the cold water.
The shock took Harry’s breath away. He pulled himself out of the saddle and
stood, soaking wet. Caelius thrashed until he was on his feet again, knocking
Harry back into the water in the process and ran from the lake. 
Draco was there in a flash and jumped from Agrippa’s back. He waded into the
water up to his thighs and helped Harry get back onto his feet. Draco walked
him to the shore, checking him over, but as soon as it was clear Harry was just
cold and not hurt, he laughed. Harry smiled, happy that Draco was happy. Pansy
stood by worriedly, holding Messalina’s reigns. Vince and Greg had also
dismounted. Their horses needed a rest anyway.
“Snake!” Pansy suddenly shrieked, terrified. She had seen a shadow move under
Harry’s white, nearly see-through wet shirt. 
“No,” Vince said softly, putting a gentle hand on her arm.
Draco pulled Harry’s shirt over his head and the three stood in shock to see a
white dragon with massive wings that spanned nearly all of Harry’s stomach and
curled around to cover half of Harry’s lower back. Its green eyes gracefully
closed as it pulled its wings in close to its body and curled up on Harry’s
right side just above Harry’s pants. The tattoo was big, the dragon’s rounded
back as high as Harry’s ribs.
“Did it hurt?” Greg asked, wide-eyed and impressed. Pureblood's didn’t
typically get tattoos as they were seen as vulgar and unrefined. This was the
first tattoo he had ever seen.
“Where did you get it?” Pansy demanded. “Can I touch it? Does it always move?”
Draco ran his fingers over the inked skin. His eye shone with pride. “Oh, it
hurt. Harry was screaming, weren’t you?”
Harry blushed. It’d hurt, but that wasn’t the only reason why he’d been
screaming that night. Between his legs tingled as he remembered Draco’s hot
mouth sucking on him. 
Draco wrapped his arms around his boy, smug that he’d made Harry blush. “I gave
it to him. No, you can’t touch it. It moves sometimes, but not very often. It
mostly sleeps like it’s doing now.” He titled his head and regarded the three
kids in front of him. “You can’t tell anyone, you know that, right?”
Pansy hastily promised, “I won’t tell!”
Vince and Greg simply nodded their head.
“Good.” Draco kissed Harry’s cheek and released him. “Dobby!”
The elf appeared with a little pop. “Yes, Master?”
“Help Harry dry off please,” Draco asked, sitting down in the grass. “And bring
us something to eat.”
“Yes, Master!”
As Dobby and Harry fussed over Harry’s wet clothes and hair, Pansy folded her
legs and sat gracefully next to Draco. “What’s it mean?” she asked carefully.
“The dragon?” Draco met her eyes. The look in them made her shiver. “Draco
means dragon. It means Harry’s mine.”
Pansy fell silent after that. She had the sudden feeling that Draco wouldn’t
marry her, and for the first time, the thought came to her that maybe she
didn’t really want to marry Draco. 
1990
A Dark Year
In January, Pandora made an incredible discovery. Through her studies of the
Black magic in Harry’s core, she was able to find definitive proof that a
wizard’s soul was located in their magical core. Such a discovery would
revolutionize the understanding of cores and souls in regards to magic. It also
meant that the Blackness wasn’t simply a piece of Voldemort’s core; it was a
piece of his soul. In this way, Lord Malfoy’s fears had been correct. The
Blackness was alive. That explained the way it was able to adapt and take over
Harry’s core when threatened. It was fighting to survive the way a living
organism would! This knowledge also opened up a wider range of possibilities
for how to kill it. Obsessed and on the brink of creating a way to free Harry,
Pandora disappeared into her lab and didn’t return for weeks. February arrived
and with it came little Luna’s ninth birthday. 
Xenophillius watched his daughter sit alone at their table, staring forlornly
at her birthday cake, and made a decision that would alter the course of their
lives. Pandora had given her husband a key to the lab just in case of
emergencies. He scooped his daughter up, packed up the cake, and decided to
take the party to his wife. Surely she could use a break. Surely she could
spare a few minutes for cake. 
They arrived at the Department of Mysteries and Xeno followed the path his wife
had shown him. They arrived at the Time Room where the Unspeakable offices
were. As expected, he saw that the lab inside the bell jar was in use. 
“Is mummy in there?” Luna asked. Her big blue eyes looked around at all the
clocks in wonder. She had never been to the department before. 
“Let’s tiptoe and surprise her,” Xeno told her, smiling with his finger held to
his lips. Taking his giggling daughter by the hand, he lifted his key. It
created a door and they stepped inside the lab. 
Xeno’s smile withered as he took in the three ritual circles, one inside the
other, inscribed on the floor. The ouster most ring was created from purified
salt. The middle ring was done in ash. The inner most ring was the most
complex. It spelled out runes written in blood. Pandora, thin and tall, her
long blond hair floating on the currents of the magic she had summoned, stood
with her arms raised and her head titled back as she chanted. The magic felt
like a powerful wave as it slammed into Xeno, dropping him to his knees with a
painful scream. 
Luna somehow remained standing. Her little body trembled, but she looked at her
mother without fear. “Mummy?” she called softly. 
Pandora turned. Purple lightning arched up from the ring of salt and struck at
the bloody runes. Her eyes glowed a matching electric purple. “Luna. The
princes need to be saved. I tried, but the Black One is too strong. Tell Draco,
Luna. Tell him there are more pieces of Black. Tell him I destroyed one, but it
took all my core to do it. Harry’s safe for now, Luna. Tell him not to mess
with the Black until he must. Tell him to trust no one with my research. It’s
too dangerous! More Black Ones would appear. He must learn it himself. Luna,
can you hear me, daughter?”
Luna nodded her head slowly and, with tears streaking her face, she answered
softly, “Yes, mother.”
“I can’t see you, Luna. I’m out of time. I lost this battle long ago. The
circles held me here in the hopes your father would bring you. Tell the
princes, daughter. They have to be careful of the Black One. He comes, Luna.
The princes must be ready. Draco must study my notes. He’s stronger than me… He
can defeat the Black One and free Harry…” Pandora began to grow transparent.
Her body lifted off the ground. Her hands and hair floated above her head as
her back arched. “Daughter… Protect the princes… Tell them… the Black One… They
must defeat the Black One…”
A hungry roar exploded through the room, knocking Luna over backward and
flinging her through the lab wall and back into the clock room. Xeno, screaming
and sobbing for his wife, crawled after his daughter. The bell jar went
transparent and empty as soon as he was free of the glass. Pandora was gone.
All that was left of her were incomprehensible notes on magical cores left on
her desk. 
Xeno held a funeral for his wife a week later. He had not heard any of his
wife’s message. It had been meant only for Luna, so he did not understand his
daughter’s insistence that Draco and Harry be invited. Exhausted and broken-
hearted, Xeno gave in. 
After the funeral, Xeno invited the guest to return to his house for a wake and
Luna finally left her father’s side to approach Draco. The blond prince met her
eyes as she walked up to him. He was the only one who would. Everyone else had
grabbed her and hugged her and tried to tell her it would be okay, but none of
them would look her in her eyes. 
“My mum gave me a message,” she told him. 
Draco looked up at the beautiful woman next to him. “Narcissa, I’m going to
talk with Luna. I’ll be back.”
The woman bowed her head in acceptance. 
The blond gave the be-speckled prince next to him a look before turning away.
He took her by the hand and led her to a quiet corner. He looked around to be
sure no one could hear them and then gave her his full attention. 
Luna shivered. Draco’s focus was almost like a physical force. She could feel
it against her skin. It actually reminded her of her mother. A small smile
touched her lips. It was her first one since her mother had disappeared. 
She told Draco everything. He listened carefully. He never interrupted or tried
to say she was making up stories. He simply listened. When she was finished,
she stared at him, waiting to see what he’d do. She was surprised when he
smiled at her. 
Draco brushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ears for
her. “I’m sorry you lost your mother. Thank you for giving me her message,” he
told her seriously.
This time it was Luna who took him by the hand. She brought him upstairs to her
room. She’d stolen her mother’s research from her father’s office and hid the
them there. He’d been too sad to notice. She gave the thick folder to the
prince and shivered when his eyes went silver with determination. 
“I’ll keep her research is safe, Luna,” he vowed. “And I’m going to stop the
Black One.”
Luna flung her arms around him. “I have to take care of my papa, but when I get
to Hogwarts I’ll help. I promised my mum I’d protect the princes.”
…
In June, Charlie graduated and proposed to his girlfriend. At first she
accepted, but when she learned two months later that he wasn’t going to play
professional Quidditch, she left him. She had expected him to become a famous
athlete with the income to match and was horrified when he told her that he
wanted to study Magizoology at the Scamander Institute in Scottland. The loss
of the girl he genuinely loved, her betrayal over money, devastated Charlie. He
stopped sleeping and eating and, in November, took a job far from home working
with dragons in Romania. Molly grieved as her two eldest sons left the family. 
…
In late July, a letter went out informing a Muggle family that their child had
been accepted into Hogwarts. When no response was given, Deputy Headmistress
Minerva McGonagall visited the home at the beginning of August to inquire
whether the child would attend. The family denied the child existed, but the
address was clear in the book at Hogwarts. Concerned, McGonagall cast a spell
and it revealed the child’s body buried shallowly in the back garden. 
The Aurors were called immediately. It was soon discovered that the Muggleborn
girl, named Loretta Pleasant, had been physically abused by her father for
years. In a fit of rage, the man had strangled the little girl to death upon
the arrival of her Hogwarts letter. 
The news hit the Wizarding World hard, especially coming so soon after the
Dursley trial and the discovered abuse of Harry Potter. To quiet the demands
for protection for magical children, the Wizengamot passed Loretta’s Law. In
accordance with the law, a new department was created in the Magical Child
Services Department. 
The new division’s objective was to look for magical children throughout the UK
and monitor the children from as early an age as possible. If a home was deemed
unfit for a magical child, three things would happen: the child was taken,
their Muggle family was Obliviated, and the Muggleborn was placed with approved
Wizarding families. 
The Muggle Prime Minister protested at first, but when faced with the evidence
of Harry Potter’s trial and Loretta’s corpse, he signed an agreement that
Muggleborns who fell under Loretta’s Law would no longer be considered Muggle
citizens and would be under the complete authority of the Ministry of Magic.
And, with this, the Wizarding world began to change…
To Be Continued in:
 Freedom Found in Defiance
A/N:I very much welcome any and all feedback regarding this story!
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