Birth of the Serpent King – 2/3

Reading Time: 161 Minutes

Title: Birth of the Serpent King
Author: Keira Marcos
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Genre: Romance, Alternate Universe
Rating: R (sexual situations and violence)
Word Count: 105,062
Betas: Chris King & Ladyholder (all remaining mistakes are the author’s fault)
Warnings: Written by an American author who attempted to use every cliché she could think of, habitual abuse of canon characterizations and events AND under aged consensual sexual contact.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Entertainment purposes only. No infringement intended. If I owned Harry Potter—I’d live in a castle in Scotland with several beautiful younger men to cater to my every wish.
Author’s Note: My thanks to the HP Fandom for entertaining me thoroughly while I was broken and laid up wishing death and mayhem on my neighbors.

Summary: What if Lucius Malfoy had interfered and saved Harry Potter’s life during the third task? The Harry that returns to Hogwarts after the resurrection of Voldemort has been tempered by fire, the Potter Family legacy, and a relationship he couldn’t have ever expected. In the wake of his father’s redemption—Draco Malfoy finds everything he could have ever wanted in the man that was once his enemy.

  * * * *

Chapter Five

“The look on Fudge’s face…” Bill wiped tears off his face and sighed. “Sirius, you would have died laughing had you been there. I had to bite my own tongue to keep from bursting.”

Sirius smirked into his tea. “His father was always blunt like that.” He looked toward Dumbledore. “Is that a problem?”

“A problem?” Albus shook his head. “No, I believe Minister Fudge doesn’t know what to do with himself really when it comes to our young Lord Potter.” He looked down into his tea. “Frankly, I’m not certain what to do with Lord Potter. He’s not much like the boy I left at Privet Drive at the end of the school year.”

“This last experience combined with the settling of his Family magic has changed him,” Sirius said. “You remember how it was with James… his father died, his Family magic settled on him entirely, and then there was Harry. Merlin, he was overwhelmed when the Healer put Harry in his arms.”

“We all were,” Remus admitted. “I didn’t even want to hold him. He looked so fragile and perfect.”

* * * *

Draco,

 

Minister Fudge is an arse. The man actually tried to order me to publically recant what happened the night the third task ended because it’s hurting his popularity. You’re right. I should sue him.

 

With Trust,

Lord Hary Potter

The House of Potter

* * * *

Harry didn’t like diagnostics—they made him itch all over. Bill Weasley was regarding him with some amusement as Harry squirmed under the Healer’s wand. “Laugh it up, you know this is horrible.”

Bill grinned. “Most wizards are used to it by the time they reach your age. My mother has been casting similar charms on me since I was days old.”

Healer Daniels chuckled. “Yes, it’s unusual for me to deal with a Muggle raised wizard.”

“Why?”

Daniels paused and then shrugged. “I’m rather expensive due to my experience and training. Additionally, most who are Muggle-born or raised would probably go to St. Mungo’s with any of their problems. Seeing a private Healer is an option for the wealthy, Lord Potter.”

“I see.” Harry sighed as he was released from the charm. “How are things going?”

“Your kidney function has returned to normal but I’m not at all pleased with the progress concerning your stomach and heart. Are you drinking all the potions as prescribed?”

“Dobby makes sure,” Harry answered dryly. “What’s wrong with my heart?”

“It’s working twice as hard as it should have to, actually. I checked your birth records at St. Mungo’s after your first appointment and there were no recorded anomalies concerning your heart at birth.”

“Do you think it’s part of the spell damage?”

“Yes.” Daniels rubbed his mouth. “I’ve been in contact with the dverger about a specialist as you requested and I believe we’ll be able to meet with that specialist over the Christmas holidays as you suggested. The Killing Curse is designed to burst the heart—I believe the increase in your heart rate is one of the side effects of the curse rebound. What that means, exactly, is unclear.”

“Madame Pomfrey never noticed it before,” Harry murmured. “Could it be that the spell damage I carry is responding to the fact that Voldemort is alive again?”

“Merlin,” Bill muttered.

“It’s possible,” Daniels confirmed. “The spell damage you have is intruding on your magical core and it needs to be removed as quickly as possible. Why you weren’t healed properly as an infant is beyond me.” He made several notes. “I will talk with Poppy and we’ll discuss your heart rate before and after that night to see if there is a difference in her records. Your heart is so far undamaged but it is under stress.”

“But it could take damage if we can’t slow it down to normal,” Harry murmured.

“Yes.”

“And it might even burst,” Harry continued. “Perhaps as if I didn’t so much as stop the curse when I was a baby but simply slowed it down.”

Daniels paled and sat down abruptly. “That would be… I see. I will speak with the dverger again today about the specialist I requested and perhaps we could arrange another appointment within the week if I can get someone here.”

“Good idea,” Bill said quietly. “I’ll reach out myself and do some discreet inquiries.”

They exited the Healer’s offices a few minutes later, Harry was shaken and a little oblivious to his surroundings as Bill lead him down the street towards Gringotts. Then he felt it—a frigid touch trailing down his spine and the screams drifted over his mind—his mother’s screams. Dementors in Diagon Ally.

“Dementors!” His warning had Bill moving decisively, his arm gripped in one hand while the older wizard held his wand in the other.

It was unreal – ten of them were suddenly rushing down the street towards him while others were reaching out to witches and wizards who had fallen under the brunt of their presence. Momentarily, Harry was rather relieved to realize he wasn’t the only one that fainted around the nasty things.

Bill pushed him against a building and shouted out, “Expecto Patronum!”

Harry gripped his own wand and repeated the spell—sending his stag out into the street in a burst of magic so strong that the building he was pressed against trembled. The Dementors scattered—screeching down the street but not completely retreating.

“Expecto Patronum!”

The dragon Patronus was such a surprise that Harry launched briefly forward only to have Bill Weasley shove him back against the building. Draco Malfoy was standing on the steps of the Gringotts, his Patronus snapping and charging at the Dementors in a furious attack. Harry cast his again and the stag burst from his wand towards the last of the Dementors as Aurors started to arrive.

“Draco,” Harry whispered hoarsely. “Bill, get Draco. Don’t let him do something stupid.”

Bill glanced at him surprised but shouted out for Malfoy who rushed down the stairs towards them. He caught the young man’s arm and pulled him behind him with a sharp tug—not so gently planting him beside Harry against the building.

“Are you alright?” Draco demanded, his hand curling into Harry’s.

“Yes,” Harry whispered.

Draco snorted and rummaged through his robes for a few seconds before coming up with a bar of chocolate. “Here. Eat the whole thing. Merlin, Potter, why do those things affect you like this?”

“I hear my parents dying whenever they get close to me,” Harry admitted and then averted his gaze at the looks of horror he received from several people that had huddled around and behind Bill. “My father yelling, my mother screaming, and Voldemort killing them both—over and over again.”

Kingsley Shacklebolt pushed through the crowd and tried to peek at Harry but Bill and Draco had him completely sheltered now. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine,” Bill snapped. “What in Merlin’s name were Dementors doing on the streets?”

Harry closed his eyes and relaxed against the wall as he swallowed the last of the chocolate. “I want… I need to get out of here.”

Draco moved in close and wrapped his hand around Harry’s wrist—covering Mehen. “Bill, I have him.”

Bill looked between them and nodded. “Don’t go where I can’t get to you, Harry.”

Harry hissed out the word ‘Padfoot’ and they disappeared.

* * * *

Draco barely caught him as they stumbled into the parlor of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Sirius burst into the room with his wand drawn and Harry fainted.

Draco sighed as he held his friend close and regarded his relative with a grim expression. “Hello cousin, do us a favor and come help me with the Boy Who Lived To Get In Trouble?”

Sirius frowned but holstered his wand. “What happened?”

“Dementors in Diagon Ally,” Draco muttered as they moved Harry onto a couch. He loosened Harry’s collar with ease and then sat down on the edge of the sofa. “He ate a whole bar of chocolate but we should… Dobby!”

Dobby appeared in an instant and his eyes went wide. “Yous not supposed to be here! What’s wrong with my Master Harry Potter?”

“He had a run in with Dementors, Dobby. They didn’t get close but he needs a few potions. Visit his Healer and get what he needs,” Sirius explained as he knelt beside the sofa and brushed Harry’s hair from his forehead.

Draco rubbed his face briefly and took a deep breath. “Harry hears the murder of his parents when he gets near Dementors.” He flinched at the wounded sound Sirius made. “I kind of figured he was staying with you but Merlin, couldn’t you have picked one of the nicer Black residences?”

“The others are being watched by the Ministry. This is the only one that is unplottable. You know our ancestors were an arrogant lot.” Sirius took a deep breath. “He’s okay?”

“He cast his Patronus not once but twice,” Draco muttered. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was extremely powerful and nearly solid both times. The air bent around him as he cast.”

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t obliviate you and send you back to your mother,” Sirius murmured.

Draco reached out and took Harry’s hand—purposefully, he pressed his thumb against the signet ring and whispered, “Fortius quo fidelius.”

Sirius sat back on his heels as he watched a soft green glow form around the two of them. “That’s a Liege Oath.”

“Yes,” Draco murmured. “Freely given and sealed by dverger magic.” He lifted his thumb from Harry’s ring and the glow faded. “It is the least of the things I will do to honor my father’s sacrifice in the years to come.”

Harry shifted and groaned then. “You’re holding my hand.”

“Yes.”

“In front of Sirius,” Harry snapped and tugged his hand free. “Just for that I’m going to flirt with you in front of your mother at the very first opportunity.”

Draco laughed and stood. “Let’s get the fussy young Lord Potter a pot of tea.”

* * * *

DEMENTORS ATTACK DIAGON ALLY. HAS THE MINISTRY LOST CONTROL?

Harry snorted at the headline and rubbed the back of his neck. Draco had gone home before anyone else could arrive so he’d been stuck being pampered within an inch of his life by Molly Weasley and Sirius for the last four days. Witch Weekly had done a report on his comments regarding what he heard when the Dementors came near him and the wards around Grimmauld Place had to be strengthened to keep the owls away.

All of his mail had diverted to the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts instead and Dumbledore and come through the floo the third day with a big red bag full. Hermione and Harry had laughed so hard that Molly had threatened them both with a calming draught.

“Another marriage proposal,” Fred announced and then cleared his throat. “My Dear Lord Potter, I am writing to you to offer the hand of my youngest daughter, Parvati.” He glanced at Harry. “Didn’t you take her to the Yule Ball?”

“Merlin,” Harry muttered and reached over to snag the letter. He dropped it into a pile near him. “If I don’t respond—people will think me rude, but if I do respond she’ll probably glare daggers at me all year.”

“Here’s a letter from Narcissa Malfoy.” Ron offered it to Harry unopened. “Looks like something official.”

Harry nodded. Dobby played messenger for nearly all of his correspondence with the Malfoys due to his living arrangements. Very few owls managed to get through the wards and despite Sirius’ knowledge of his relationship with Draco—Harry wasn’t ready to tell the others.

“I heard Malfoy’s Patronus is a dragon,” George said. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Makes sense,” Harry murmured as he opened Narcissa’s letter. “His name means dragon and there is a dragon on his family crest. I wonder if it changed after his father’s passing?”

Lord Potter,

 

It is my honor to extend an invitation to the Annual Malfoy Yule Ball. I believe it would be an excellent opportunity to launch you into Wizarding society and introduce you to your peers.

 

Sincerely,

Narcissa Malfoy

The House of Malfoy

Harry tucked the letter into his box that he’d brought with him from the desk in the Malfoy slot and noted saw that Dobby had added a task in his notebook for him to respond to the letter.

“She invited me to a Christmas party,” Harry murmured.

“Not quite a Christmas party,” Remus said from his pile of letters. He was spread out over the sofa with his feet in Sirius lap as they did their part in reading. “The Malfoy Yule Ball is a fairly big deal in Wizarding society. I recommend you attend.”

Harry scrunched up his nose but nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He fully intended on attending just so he could glare at anyone who tried to dance with Draco which made no sense but he was fairly resolved in his duty on the matter.

“Oy! Another marriage proposal,” George snorted and tossed it into the pile. “It’s gotta be the money—he isn’t that pretty.”

“Right,” Fred agreed. “And he’s a nutter.”

Harry stared at them for a second and then shifted so fast into his Animagus form that Dobby screamed. He burst across the room and managed to wrap himself around both twins before they could properly defend themselves. Everyone burst into laughter as Fred and George flailed under the weight and strength of one very sneaky boa constrictor.

* * * *

Draco,

I testify in front of the dverger court in two days. I decided to do it before I returned to school because I can’t live with the lies that Fudge has told everyone. Everyone must be on guard, the ministry has to prepare for war and for Voldemort. I would very much like you to attend but I know hearing about it will be difficult for you. I won’t be angry if you feel you can’t.

 

Lord Harry Potter

The House of Potter

* * * *

Ragnok nodded at a dverger on his left and a deep resonating tone echoed through the hall from the large gong at the front of the room. “The Court calls Lord Harry James Potter to testify at his own request on the matter involving himself, Lucius Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, and the Dark Lord Voldemort on the final night of the Tri-Wizard tournament.” He banged his own fist on the surface of the large table in front of him when the audience erupted with noise. “Lord Potter present yourself to the Court!”

Harry stood and kept his gaze front and center as he walked up the wide aisle and took his place on a raised dais in front of the room. His testimony was a surprise but there were still quite a few wizards and witches in the room. He ignored the rush of sound at the back of the room and the swinging of the doors as people hurried into the room from the waiting rooms and lobby outside the dverger court hall. He purposely pulled Mehen from his wrist and placed him on the table in front of him. Then he placed his wand beside the little metal snake.

Two dverger approached the dais, one with a tray of potions and the other with a staff clenched in one gnarled fist. The dverger rarely used wands but staves were common in their ritual magic. He was given the maximum dosage of Veritaserum after the dverger with the staff verified that he hadn’t been given the antidote and that his mind was unshielded.

“Lord Potter, give your oath,” Ragnok demanded harshly.

Harry took a deep breath and picked up his wand as the Veritaserum started to move in his body. He’d been told that the dverger-made version of the truth potion was far more sophisticated than what was widely available to wizards. He didn’t feel like a zombie but he wasn’t in the mood to test how effective the potion would be at punishing him if he lied.

“I, Lord Harry James Potter, solemnly swear on my life and magic to answer all questions posed to me on this day by the members of the Horde Judiciary honestly without exception. So Mote It Be.” He put down his wand and flinched violently as several spells hit him—one after another from the dverger staff. A compulsion charm, a truth charm, an honesty hex, and finally an extremely delicate integrity curse that would torture him viciously for each lie he told. He knew about them in advance but feeling them settle on his magic one after another was very unsettling.

“Lord Potter, we will begin with the minutes before you and Mr. Diggory activated the portkey in the maze at Hogwarts.” Ragnok paused and waited until the room was entirely silent. “Whose idea was it for you and Cedric Diggory to claim the Tri-Wizard trophy together?”

“Mine.” Harry’s hands clenched in front of him. “I told him to take it at first and he told me I should take it. I knew he deserved to win—he was the true Tri-Wizard Champion. I shouldn’t have been in the competition to begin with. Finally, we agreed to share it.”

“When did you realize the trophy was a portkey?”

“The moment we touched it—it snatched us away. I’d only felt that sensation twice before but I knew it was a portkey. I don’t know if Cedric understood what it was immediately or not—we never had the chance to discuss it.”

“You landed in a cemetery in Little Hangleton. The Daily Prophet has accused you of cursing Cedric Diggory because you didn’t want to share the trophy. Is that true?”

“No, it’s not. I never raised my wand against Cedric Diggory. Shortly after we landed in the cemetery, we agreed that were in trouble and we both pulled our wands. We heard a voice…” Harry took a deep breath.

“What did he voice say?” Ragnok questioned.

“Kill the spare.” Harry flinched as the audience stirred at those words. “I’d heard that voice before—I knew it was Voldemort.”

“When had you heard Voldemort’s voice?” Ragnok prodded.

“I remember the night he murdered my parents—his voice echoes in my mind but I spoke with him in my first year at Hogwarts when his spirit possessed one of my professors. I also spoke with his disembodied spirit in the Chamber of the Secrets during my second year after I killed the basilisk.” Harry focused on the table in front of him, uncomfortable with the way the amplifying charms around him were making his voice resonate through the now completely silent hall. “I pushed Cedric aside as Peter Pettigrew cast the Killing Curse at him. It blew up a headstone near us but we both managed to fire a few curses back at him.”

“How did you come to know Peter Pettigrew well enough to identify him that night? The Ministry of Magic has the man dead since the week after your own parents were  murdered.”

“I met Peter Pettigrew in my third year at Hogwarts when we discovered that he’d been living in rat form as a student’s pet. I learned that he was my parent’s Secret Keeper and that he framed my godfather, Sirius Black, with mass murder to cover up his own crimes and to throw off anyone who might have suspected that he was, in fact, a Marked Death Eater.” Harry paused when several people in the audience started talking at once and waited until each had been silenced by a near-death glare from Ragnok. “Pettigrew hit Cedric with several curses I’d never heard before and then he stunned me. Neither one us were prepared to duel with an adult wizard and didn’t last long in the fight.”

“What is the next thing you remember?”

“I woke up tied to a headstone and Pettigrew was preparing a large cauldron. He cut my arm and harvested my blood. Then he cut off his own hand, which he dropped into the cauldron along with a child sized body that I never clearly saw. Whatever it was—Voldemort was possessing it.” He ran one hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “I don’t know how much time passed before a body—the size of a grown man—rose up from the cauldron. It was Voldemort.”

“Are you certain?”

“As certain as I can be,” Harry admitted roughly. “It’s not every day you see evil incarnate resurrected with your own blood. I admit to being horrified and genuinely confused by the events. I’m not sure what happened while I was unconscious and at that point I didn’t know if Cedric was alive or not.”

“Then what happened?”

“Pettigrew put a robe on Voldemort and then Voldemort used the Dark Mark on Pettigrew’s arm to call Death Eaters. They begin to appear almost immediately—in a circle around him. Voldemort released me from the tomb stone and told me that we were going to duel. He wanted to prove to his Death Eaters that a child couldn’t have possibly beaten him.”

“He gave you your wand?”

“Yes.” Harry touched his wand with the tips of his fingers as if to steady himself and nodded. “I immediately looked around and tried to find Cedric. He was lying, unmoving several meters away from me. I tried to run to him but I was stunned by one of the Death Eaters. Then I was forced into the inside of their circle and made to stand before Voldemort as if he were really going to duel with me.” He spread his hands wide on the table and pressed down to steady himself. “He looked like a living, breathing nightmare. I see his face in my dreams every night and it never stops being a source of absolute horror for me.”

“Did you recognize any of the Death Eaters in the circle?”

“They were all wearing masks when they arrived but Voldemort unmasked several of them while I was still tied up—I can provide a pensive memory for anyone interested in seeing their faces. I would not be in a position to name any of them except for the names I heard spoken quite clearly: McNair and Goyle. Then he unmasked Lucius Malfoy.”

“Were you aware before this event that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater?”

“I had heard rumors that he was a Death Eater during the first conflict with Voldemort and that he later claimed to have been under the Imperius Curse. I do not know if that was true or not—but I have come to understand than anyone wearing the Dark Mark has little free will of their own when they are in the physical presence of Voldemort.” Harry took a deep breath. “The Dark Mark is ripe with compulsion hexes, loyalty charms, and also exists as a magic sink of sorts.”

“Sink?” Ragnok questioned with a frown. “I’m afraid I do not follow, Lord Potter.”

“It is a Muggle reference,” Harry explained. “In situations where Muggle equipment might become overheated—they create a heat sink to help absorb the heat to prevent the equipment from being damaged. In the case of the Dark Mark, the mark acts as a magic sink—pooling magic from Voldemort’s marked followers for the Dark Lord’s own use. He siphons the magic from his own people to enhance himself. It follows that the more wizards and witches that he can mark—the more powerful he will become.”

“Very well.” Ragnok made several notes on the parchment in front of him before focusing once more on Harry. “What happened when the Dark Lord unmasked Lord Malfoy?”

“Lord Lucius Malfoy made excuses for not attempting to help the Dark Lord return to power in the thirteen years since he was banished from his physical body. Voldemort seemed unimpressed with his efforts but chose to forgive him for reasons that are, to this day, unclear to me.” Harry glanced out into the audience and his gaze connected with Narcissa Malfoy’s. “Lucius moved around the circle until he was near me. Voldemort took this as a sign of loyalty, I think. I’m not certain about that either but he said nothing about the behavior.”

“Did Lucius Malfoy interfere in the events that were taking place between you and the Dark Lord?”

“Not at first,” Harry admitted roughly. “Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse on me several times and seemed surprised that I was able to stand up after he cast it the second time. I don’t supposed he’d ever encountered a fourteen year old with my pain threshold before. I can’t say it didn’t hurt worse than anything I’ve ever experienced—but I learned a long time ago to never let an enemy see how much it hurts.” He looked down at his hands and twisted his ring on his finger as he considered his next words. “He started to curse me again and I tried a disarming hex out of desperation and our wands connected. The spells joined and we were surrounded by this golden light.”

“Do you have any theory as to why your wands might have connected?”

“When I purchased my wand, I was told that it was the brother wand to Voldemort’s. We share the same core from the same phoenix but there appears to be more to the brother wand concept than a shared core. I didn’t question it at the time. It’s lead me to believe that I’ll never be able to successfully duel Voldemort with the wand I currently own. The spectral forms of people Voldemort killed started to pour out of his wand—including my mother and father. I can’t say if they were actually real or not but they told me to hold on until they could gather enough power to distract Voldemort. I tried but he was strong and I was weakened from the Cruciatus.” Harry cleared his throat. “Our wands disconnected abruptly and we were both thrown out of the circle of Death Eaters. I tried to get to Cedric’s body at that point—dead or not I was not going to leave him at the mercy of that monster.”

“But you didn’t succeed at that point?”

“No, someone hit me with a curse—it slashed open my back. The next thing knew I was being dragged back to my feet again so that Voldemort could pretend to duel with me again. He may look like a snake but he’s very much like a cat.”

Ragnok frowned. “Pardon me, Lord Potter? A cat?”

“Cat’s play with their prey before they kill them—they are the cruelest of killers in the natural world. Voldemort is like that—casually cruel. Anyone that would follow him must be completely insane.” Harry cleared his throat. “He threw several curses at me—cutting curses mostly but I was able to dodge most of them. Then I accidently disarmed him—he was furious, as you might could imagine. It certainly didn’t play well for his plan to show his Death Eaters how superior he was to me. I was stunned by one of the masked Death Eaters and when I was revived—Voldemort was leaning over me smiling.” Harry shuddered briefly. “I hurt all over and I couldn’t believe he was going to be the last thing I saw before I died.” He paused at the gasps that elicited from the crowd. “I wasn’t… I hated him so much in that moment. Hated him for what he’d done—how he’d murdered my parents and how he would kill so many now that he’d returned. He is a living obscenity.”

“How did you get away, Lord Potter?”

Harry flushed. “I slapped him across the face. He was momentarily so taken aback by the physical assault that he stepped away from me and proceeded to berate me for resorting to Muggle behavior. I rolled to my feet and then figuring I didn’t have much left to lose—threw myself at him and managed to punch him several times in the face before his Death Eaters pulled me off of him and threw me aside. I landed near Cedric.”

“And then?” Ragnok asked in a somewhat shocked tone.

“I started to crawl toward him and found both his wand and mine in the grass just before I reached him. I turned to try to find the cup—I could only hope and pray that the cup had been set up to return my dead body to Hogwarts as a final insult and a calling card for Voldemort.” Harry closed his eyes and steadied himself because he just wasn’t ready to talk about what happened next.

“Could you see it from your location?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “But it didn’t matter because Voldemort had recovered and he was livid. He started throwing curse after curse at me—a bludgeoning hex, several crucios, and then I heard Lucius Malfoy shout Stupify! I waited for it to hit me but it didn’t—I was able to turn and watched Pettigrew fall on his face. Then Lucius aimed his wand at Voldemort and moved to stand between us—between Voldemort and me. Voldemort screamed—he was enraged. They started to duel. It was fast and vicious—they both moved so quickly and were using objects around the cemetery to block the more violent curses. Then Lucius banished the Tri-Wizard cup right at me. I grabbed a hold of Cedric and caught the cup. The last thing I saw was him fall under  reductos from several different directions.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I knew he wouldn’t survive an assault like that.”

“Do you have any inkling as to why Lord Lucius Malfoy would chose to defend your life that night?”

“At the time, no. I’d always believed he hated my guts and couldn’t figure out what could have motivated him to act against Voldemort like that.”

“Did you, at a later date, come to know why he might have defended you?”

“Shortly before I claimed my title the Potter family grimoire came into my possession. I learned that the Malfoy family owed my mother a Life Debt at the time of her death. That Life Debt transferred to me. I believe and accept without concession that Lord Lucius Malfoy fulfilled that Life Debt the night he was murdered by Voldemort and his followers as he defended the lives of myself and Cedric Diggory.”

* * * *

He hated the way the taste of Veritaserum taste lingered on his tongue long after it had worn off.

He’d placed one copy of his testimony in the Family vault and had taken another with him. The rest of the Wizarding world would see it un-edited in the Daily Prophet within twenty-four hours. He knew that they would have to print it because the Ragnok had forwarded it to every Wizarding paper and magazine in Europe. They’d also posted it on the front doors of Gringotts and then closed early for the day in the first time in over 15 years.

Dumbledore had been outside the court waiting for him when he left and had done a lot to make sure they’d been able to get out of the bank and leave unmolested. The entire Wizarding world seemed to have gone silent and it was deafening.

He stared at his tea in silence—everyone in the kitchen was staring at him. Then someone turned on the wireless.

“The crowd gathered outside of Gringotts to read the certified testimony that Lord Harry James Potter provided to the dverger court has grown to over a thousand. Diagon Ally is packed as the fifth vocalized reading of the testimony has begun. Shops are closed and Aurors are everywhere trying to keep the peace. We once again live in a world with the Dark Lord. Minister Fudge has been unavailable since the testimony was placed on the doors this afternoon following Lord Potter’s departure from the bank.”

Harry pushed aside his tea cup and lowered his head to his arms. He tucked his face against his elbow and took a few deep breaths. The last thing he wanted was for people to panic and hurt themselves.

A large warm hand settled on his neck and patted his hair hesitantly. Sirius cleared his throat. “You did the right thing, Harry. The only responsible thing you could have done in the circumstances. We need to prepare for what is coming and the Malfoys deserved to have the truth of Lucius’ sacrifice told to the world. Fudge dishonored his Family, disrespected you, and lied to everyone to save face.”

Harry nodded and sighed. “I’d like to lie down for a while.” He stood up and turned to Sirius. “Can I speak to you privately upstairs?”

“Yeah, pup, right behind you.”

* * * *

Harry was finishing fastening his robes when Sirius entered. “I want to go see Draco. I didn’t get a chance to talk to him after the hearing and…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Sirius murmured. “Set a ward on your door and tell Dobby to pretend you’re here and want to eat dinner in private. Everyone should respect that considering what you’ve been through today.”
“Am I wrong to keep the… thing between me and Draco a secret?”

“There are members of the Order who will have a real problem with your relationship with the son of a Death Eater, no matter what his father did with the last minutes of his life. I think perhaps it’s best if you give them a little time to get used to it.”

Harry nodded and tucked his wand into his wrist holster. “It’s not just… it wasn’t just him you know. He bound his whole family in that Liege Oath—every single member of his family.”

“I know. A personal Liege Oath would have glowed blue—a green one tells the world that he has bonded the House of Malfoy and the House of Potter in a very ancient and permanent way. It was an excellent way to protect his Family magic from falling into Voldemort’s hands. As long as they are bound to you—they can’t be forced to take the Dark Mark.”

* * * *

He appeared in a marbled foyer and two House Elves immediately popped into place in front of him, frowning. Fortunately, Narcissa rescued him from their wrath in under a minute and guided him up a beautiful staircase.

“Sorry. I should have owled or sent Dobby in advance but I’m using him to hide the fact that I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

Narcissa smiled gently. “Quite alright. Draco is in his wing, resting. It was a difficult day for us.”

“I’m sorry I asked him to come—it was selfish of me.”

“Nonsense. He had every right to bear witness to the event that would see his father’s honor returned to him. You could have given him no better gift in this life, Harry.” She paused outside a pair of double doors. “I don’t know how to repay you.”

“You could brow beat the Wizengamot into actually giving Sirius a trial,” Harry responded honestly. “He went to prison for something he didn’t do. He shouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life hiding because Dumbledore doesn’t want him to draw attention to himself.”

Her eyes lit up. “I think I could work with that. I guess I’ll have to set a trap for a rat.”

“Indeed,” Harry murmured and then smiled when she walked away with a truly wicked smile on her beautiful face. He almost felt sorry for Wormtail.

He found Draco in a large room that sort of resembled the common rooms at school. He was sitting in a bay window, a vivid jade green snake curling around his hand. The snake was hissing almost non-stop.

“He’s sorry you’re upset,” Harry murmured. “He wishes he could make it better for you.” He slid onto the bay window beside him. The snake slithered up Draco’s arm and turned in Harry’s direction to hiss some more. Harry grinned. “He’s asked me if I’m your Serpent.”

Draco flushed. “Perhaps.”

Harry stroked the snakes head and responded in Parseltongue, “I’m his Serpent and he’s my Dragon… he just doesn’t know it.”

“His name is Scorpious.” Draco lowered his hand and let the snake slither away from him. “What you did today was extremely brave and completely insane. Fudge may very well try to kill you.”

“Like he did when he let the Dementors lose in Diagon Ally?” Harry questioned and then raised an eyebrow when Malfoy’s mouth dropped open. He laughed then, just a little. “You’re even pretty with your mouth hanging open.”

Draco blushed furiously. “You’re not the same at all, Potter.”

“Well, having read my Family history I can tell you I come from a long line of men hell bent on doing things their own way. My paternal grandfather had one-hundred and 30 six lovers male and female before and after he briefly married my grandmother and managed to make himself an Heir. He died in bed with a witch and a wizard half his age.” Harry grinned when Draco laughed softly. “That’s not true in your family is it?”

“No, Malfoys tend to love for life,” Draco flushed and his gaze dropped briefly to Harry’s mouth. “You know I’ve had a crush on you since that first day when I saw you at Diagon Ally.”

“You’ve been so wretched to me,” Harry murmured.

“Yeah, well, Malfoys don’t take rejection well at all.” Draco looked out the window and sighed. “My mother cried through most of the testimony. I couldn’t even cast a silencing charm to give her privacy because of the dverger wards in the bank.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” Draco shook his head. “As much as it hurt her—as much as it has always hurt her to know the way he died—you made sure our place in society was secure. No one will ever doubt my father’s redemption or his sacrifice for you. Not after the way you held up under that dverger’s questions. I’d always heard that dverger courts were extreme but I’d never witnessed a session before. I think that wizards could learn a lot about justice from them.”

“It was pretty intense.”

“Agreed.” Draco smirked then. “I simple cannot believe you punched the Dark Lord in the face.”

Harry blushed. “He had it coming.” Then he yawned deeply and rubbed at the back of his head with a sigh. “The bastard.”

“You should be sleeping,” Draco admonished. “Why did you come here? Why are you so different?”

Harry reached out touch him and smiled when Draco moved into the touch. He leaned forward little and smiled when Draco did the same. “I do have 15 generations of magic and mayhem pressing down on me all at once.”

Draco closed the distance between them, his grey eyes flashing. “Don’t mistake me for a girl, Potter. You don’t have to approach me like I’m a going to burst into tears if you touch me too soon.”

Harry pushed his hand into Draco’s hair and pulled him forward. Their mouths melded together in a furious rush, tongues sliding together with the kind of familiarity that should’ve been impossible. Harry’s hand fisted briefly in his hair as they kissed and then with a soft moan he eased back. “I wanted to do that last year—after the first task. You were sitting in the stands and I looked over at you.” He leaned in and kissed him again—a soft brushing of lips before he retreated again. “All I could think was that I wanted you. I wanted to keep you despite how horrible you were being.”

“Me, too. You looked so beautiful flying that day. You’re amazing on a broom, Harry. I’ve never seen anything like it. The first time when I stole Neville’s stupid remembrall, I was in awe of you.” He sighed. “Just amazing and it was so fucking irritating.”

Harry laughed. “Why did you take his remembrall?”

Draco blushed. “You smiled at him that morning at breakfast and you were nice to him. I hated him for it.”

“You’re not allowed to hate him anymore, he’s my Heir.” Harry leaned in and kissed him again. “Your mouth is perfect.”

Draco leaned in and ran his fingers through Harry’s thick dark hair. “I dream of you, Harry. Sweet, hot, desperate dreams—I wake up wet with my own release more often than not. You’re to blame for that.”

Harry smiled then. “How wonderful it would be if I could share those dreams with you.” He sighed. “I should go before anyone realizes that I’m gone.”

“Give me another kiss,” Draco murmured and tugged Harry close. Harry let himself get lost in the soft, exploring kiss until Draco pulled away with a little groan. “Your ancestors are rolling over in their graves at the thought of you taking up with a Malfoy.”

Harry grinned. “No way.” He stood up and shook out his robes. “You’re the easily the prettiest bloke in school and my ancestors were all about having the best of everything.”

Draco stared at him in shock and then huffed. “Get out of my manor, Lord Potter.”

“As you wish, Lord Malfoy.” He touched Mehen and hissed ‘Padfoot’ to return to Grimmauld Place.

* * * *

“I can’t believe he survived this,” Hermione whispered as she set aside the copy of the testimony that Arthur Weasley had brought back from Gringotts. She brushed away tears. “I don’t think I ever understood evil until I found out about magic.”

“Dear?” Molly touched her hand carefully. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Muggles… they talk about good and evil and there are criminals of course. Sometimes there are people who kill because they like it but they rarely have large groups of people following them like they are right. People don’t have polite debates in public about how it’s bloody okay to kill someone because of what they are!” She blushed furiously as Molly sat back away from her abruptly. Tears rolled down on her cheeks. “How can this world be so beautiful and amazing and bloody magical when there are people so evil in it?”

Sirius reached out then and took her cold hand in his. “Easy there. Evil comes in many forms, Hermione, and Voldemort is just one of them. There is balance in this world—Dark and Light. Sometimes that balance is put in danger but it’s always made right again.”

“Everyone will expect Harry to make it right again,” Hermione whispered. “Like he did when he was just a baby. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“He’s powerful,” Sirius acknowledged. “And will become more so as his Family magic fully settles. He’ll change and grow pretty rapidly to you. The responsibilities of his title come with magical consequences. My title was conferred on me six months after Harry was born. It changed me. James ended up accepting his title when he was just eighteen. The differences in him were extreme after even a few months.”

“He’s different already,” Hermione acknowledged. “More focused—less interested in letting me boss him around like he did before.” She blushed when everyone laughed. “I’m serious. Six months ago I’m pretty sure I could have convinced him to free Dobby before anyone explained to me how horrible it would be. Now he just looks at me all indulgent and hands me a book on the House Elf Accord.” She frowned at Kreacher who was half-heartedly washing dishes and then focused on Sirius. “You need to give Kreacher a list of duties—daily tasks, weekly tasks, monthly tasks. He needs stuff to do before his magic just ruins him completely. You know Dobby says he’s fifty years older than Kreacher.”

Sirius groaned. “Hermione, he’s horrible.”

She frowned. “We need paper and ink and a quill. You have to take this seriously, Sirius!” She got up and dashed away.

Molly chuckled. “You’re a good man, Sirius Black.” She patted him and left him there, dejected and very much at the mercy of a 15 year old girl on a mission.

* * * *

Dobby had arranged breakfast for Hermione, Ron and himself in the library due to the Order meeting that had convened early the next morning. He’d offered to bring Harry’s potions to him so he could take them in private but he figure he didn’t need to hide anything else from the two of them and he’d have to take them for a year.

Hermione and Ron were both staring at the potions when he arrived. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Harry.” Hermione frowned. “What are the…” She frowned when Ron shushed her. “No, Ron, I want to know.”

“I had a rough time with my Muggle relatives. They pretty much starved me off and on most of my life. If I wasn’t magical—I never would have survived the abuse and neglect. As it stands, my kidneys were damaged and my bones are weak. I have a private Healer taking care of me.”

“I… why didn’t Madame Pomfrey ever notice?” Hermione demanded.

“She’s not a Healer, Hermione, she’s a mediwitch. That’s basically the difference between a nurse and a doctor with Muggles. She doesn’t use half the charms my Healer uses to check me out so of course she didn’t notice.” Harry patted her hand when she frowned. “My Healer and Madame Pomfrey have had several conversations so she knows what to look for with me while I’m on these medications this year.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ron demanded. “That they were starving you?”

“They’ve actually treated me better than they ever did before after I started going to Hogwarts,” Harry admitted. “I was ashamed of it really and I blamed myself. I spent the first eleven years of my life being told I was a freak and that I didn’t even deserve to have a home or friends or family. It was hard getting past that.” He played with his silverware a bit and then picked up the first vial. “Dobby won’t bring our food until I drink them all.”

Ron and Hermione said nothing while he downed the six potions, one by one. They both grinned when the food immediately appeared on the table.

“Does Sirius know?”

“He’s aware and so is Dumbledore.”

“You’re not ever going back there!” Ron ordered and then blushed when Harry raised an eyebrow. “Harry, mate, you can’t go back and live with people who starve you.”

“I won’t, Ron. I promise.”

Two hours later, Harry was answering a letter from his solicitor when Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in the doorway of the library with a frown on his face.

“Mr. Shacklebolt.” Harry motioned towards the chair. “How can I… has the Minister put out an order for my arrest or something?”

Kingsley laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “The man isn’t that big of a fool. The entire Wizarding world is ready to fall at your feet and beg your forgiveness. Every Wizarding paper in Europe has issued formal apologies to you, the Malfoy family, and Dumbledore. I actually wanted to talk to you about the Dementors if you have time.”

“Sure.” Harry set aside his quill and glanced towards Ron and Hermione. She’d bullied Ron into working on his summer assignment for potions. “It’s alright if they stay, right?”

Shacklebolt nodded. “Sure, I know you tell them just about everything.”

Harry grinned. “If I know what’s good for me.”

“Everyone I’ve talked to said you knew they were there before anyone saw them. That you shouted out that there were Dementors a full 15 seconds before they appeared. Can you explain how you knew?”

“I think you’ll find if you go back and interview the people on the street that fainted—that they felt the air around them go cold before the Dementors actually appeared and you’ll find that they probably witnessed a pretty traumatic event that lead to the death of a loved one. Dementors thrive on those kinds of memories and that’s why people who have trauma in their past are more damaged by their presence than anyone else.”

“So, it’s true. You hear the Dark Lord killing your parents whenever you are around Dementors?”

“Yes,” Harry nodded.

Kingsley nodded. “The ten Dementors that survived didn’t return to Azkaban after the attack on the ally.”

“Then they’ve joined Voldemort,” Harry murmured. “He’ll hold them in reserve, I think. Can Dementors be destroyed?”

“A powerfully cast Patronus can kill a Dementor. Several died that day in Diagon Ally – you and Lord Malfoy both cast a powerful Patronus.”

Harry nodded. “I forced myself to practice over and over again until I could because the Dementors are the only thing… I fear and I can’t give into that kind of fear if I expect to survive.”

“No. I see that.” Shacklebolt took a deep breath. “Could you write up a report about the feelings and the sensations you noted before you saw the Dementors? I think they would benefit our people in the field.”

“Sure.” Harry nodded. “Not a problem at all.” He said nothing else as the older man stood and left the room. Then he turned to Hermione. “Hermione, I need your help writing an essay about Dementors, it seems.”

She grinned and quirked an eyebrow at him as she went in search of another book.

* * * *

Harry,

 

How dare you come to my home, invade my private space, and kiss me silly? I can’t even think and it’s all your fault. I’m only half-way finished with my Transfiguration essay and I’ve started my Charms essay twice.

 

Mother has arranged for a tailor to come to our home to fit me with a new wardrobe for fall. Would you like to come as well? You can, of course, bring Bill Weasley. It was very smart to hire your own security and very few people on this planet are loyal to you like the Weasley family.

 

Ever Loyal,

Lord Draco Malfoy

The House of Malfoy

 

PS – You can bring Ron and Hermione as well if you want. I’d like to make amends with them both before the school year starts.

 

­* * * *

Hermione and Ron had taken the introduction of Mehen with an amazing amount of nonchalance that Harry wasn’t so sure was faked. It was like his two friends had just decided to “go with it” on the matter of one Lord Harry Potter and for that he was quite grateful. He’d sent Dobby ahead with a letter letting the Malfoys know that the four of them were set to arrive.

Hermione stumbled briefly but Bill caught her before she fell on her arse on the Italian marble floor that was the highlight of the Malfoy’s foyer. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Ron said a little wide-eyed as he stood and then helped Harry up.

Draco appeared on the stairs wearing a pair of casual black slacks and a blue button down shirt. “Good afternoon, my mother has sequestered Mr. Arnold in the formal salon.” He offered Harry his hand as he cleared the stairs and blushed furiously when Harry brought him close for a hug. “He doesn’t know you’re here—just that we’ve asked for eight hours of his time today for selection and measurements.”
“Cool.” Harry released Draco reluctantly, aware that he really wanted to lay a kiss on him.

Draco grinned and offered his hand to Bill. “Mr. Weasley, it’s a pleasure to have you in my home. Thank you, again, for what you did in Diagon Ally with the Dementors. Your quick action saved a lot of lives.”

“Call me Bill, Lord Malfoy,” Bill murmured as he took Draco’s hand. “You did quite alright yourself… the Aurors think your dragon Patronus killed several of the Dementors outright.”

Draco smiled then, his eyes hardened. “He always goes big like that when I think of my Father during the casting. He’s not much bigger than me when I use other memories to cast the Patronus.”

“Huh.” Harry frowned. “I should try that. It just took me so long to find a truly happy memory to cast with that I didn’t experiment with others.”

“Your Patronus is already quite impressive, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes when they all laughed. “Call me Draco, Bill. I’d heard you were in town and on leave from Gringotts. I actually contacted them earlier in the month regarding a part of the manor that my Father had warded heavily. I’m entirely certain it’s full of Dark things that I don’t want to remain in my house. I’m reluctant to request help from the Ministry, but the dverger have promised me help and your unique talents over the Christmas holidays.”

“I look forward to it,” Bill murmured. “If you don’t mind, Draco, I’d like to inspect your wards and add a few layers of protections. You do realize that you have some Dark layers in the wards?”

“Yes, but I was unsure of how to get rid of them.” Draco flushed. “My Father wasn’t exactly forth coming on that front when he was alive. If you can get rid of them and recast stronger ones—I would be thrilled and would of course compensate you for your time and effort. Casting such wards is a taxing endeavor, after all.”

“Not a problem,” Bill murmured and then walked towards the front door. “Stay out of trouble, Harry, and mind your manners, Ron.”

Ron sputtered and Draco grinned.

He held out his hand to Ron. “Ron, thank you for agreeing to come. I realize I’ve given you no reason whatsoever to feel comfortable in my home but I hope that we can manage to bury our hostility today.”

Ron shook his hand. “Sure, I think we can… try that. I’m a little shocked but I mean… we have something stupid and evil to fight in the next few years and I need all the help I can get keeping Harry alive.”

Draco’s mouth dropped open very briefly at the earnest words and the pure to the bone honesty pouring off the youngest male Weasley. “Then we are agreed.”

Ron grinned and let his hand go. “Still might argue with you though and call you prat on occasion.”

Draco nodded and then focused on Hermione who looked leery and hopeful at the same time. “Miss Granger,” he murmured as he offered his hand. She took it with trembling fingers and he moved into her space. “I could tell you an extremely sad story about the man that raised me, the bigotry he taught me, the ambition he had for me, and the choice he made the night he died. I could tell you that I had a role to play for my House, for my friends, for the man I thought my father was and for the man I thought he wanted me to be.”

He watched her eyes clear up and her shoulders relax and then he continued. “I could speak of my jealousy of your ambition or the friendship you reveled in when I had to watch my back 24/7 but none of that would excuse the things I’ve said to you and about you. I was a vicious child, cheered on by a sadistic group of friends who often use the Cruciatus Curse to torture small animals and at times each other.”

“You?” Hermione questioned. “Did they ever use it on you?”

“Snape is my godfather,” Draco murmured. “They knew better than to mess with me—even in our first year when they dubbed me the Ice Prince of Slytherin but if you’re asking if I’ve felt the bite of that curse the answer is yes.” He schooled his expression. “My father taught me to throw off an Imperius Curse before I was even eight years old and during the summer holidays after our first year—he used the Cruciatus Curse on me in a fit of anger. My mother broke most of the bones in his body when she tossed him across his study with a flick of her wand.”

Hermione swallowed hard. “That’s… I didn’t… everyone is calling him a hero and he did that to his own child.”

“He asked me last year before school began if there was anything he could do to earn my forgiveness for what he’d done,” Draco admitted. “I told him that I didn’t want to take the Dark Mark and that if he loved me—he’d make sure I didn’t have to.”

Her fingers tightened in his hand. “Have you forgiven him?”

“Yes.”

“Then I can forgive you because if you’re capable of forgiving your own father for that… then you aren’t the person I’ve always thought you were and I’d like to figure out how I got it so wrong.”

He smiled and then leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I do have one opinion about you that I’ve never said aloud.”

“Oh yeah?” Her gaze narrowed even as she blushed.

“You’re definitely the hottest girl in Gryffindor.”

“Agreed,” Harry said with a laugh when Hermione sputtered. “Let’s go make this bloke’s day by spending too much money.”

Three hours later, Harry decided that he kind of hated Draco Malfoy. There was nothing remotely kind about the boy and he was a complete diva. Hermione and Narcissa had bonded by the time they’d gone through the cloth samples for the robes and Ron was offering his advice from the sidelines as he munched on snacks that the Malfoy’s house elves kept plying him with. It had apparently been years since they’d had a person in the house who could eat like Ron.

Bill had returned, looking tired but pleased with his work and Draco had taken him out of the room briefly. When they’d returned, Bill looked stunned and had settled in beside Ron to steal his food.

The upside was that he’d managed to settle on a full selection of clothes and he’d been assured that the clothes would be constructed so that Dobby could easily tailor them to fit him as he went through his expedited growth cycle over the next few months.

The beautiful thing about Wizarding clothing as it never completely went out of style, really. He arranged for all of his clothes to be delivered to the Malfoys and then he was done. It was much more fun to watch Draco wreck havoc with the tailor and dismiss things snottily when he didn’t agree.

After about an hour, Harry was sitting in a chair, legs crossed with a glass of pumpkin juice in hand. “I like the grey silk.”

“It’s drab,” Draco complained.

“Is not. It matches your eyes and it would look good under that blue velvet robe you went spare over earlier.”

Draco frowned and then glanced at the robe. “Perhaps if we put some silver embroidery on the cuffs and hem.” He blushed and then ignored Harry for 15 minutes while everyone else laughed.

* * * *

Harry found Draco in his library pulling a few books off the shelf that he’d promised Hermione. Everyone else was at lunch—though he couldn’t figure out where Ron would put more food. Malfoy stilled as Harry moved in behind him.

“Lord Potter, are you up to something?”

Harry laughed softly and hooked his hands on the shelving above Draco’s head. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.” He nuzzled against Draco’s neck where the blond had tied his hair back with a piece black ribbon. “You’re just gorgeous and I’m really glad I don’t have to pretend to hate you. All of that denial was wearing me out.”

Draco moved back and pressed against him. “I don’t even know what to make of you, Potter.”

“Thank you for what you said to Hermione. I don’t think even I understood how much that stuff hurt her. I probably should have kicked your ass.”

Draco nodded. “That certainly wouldn’t have helped me on the crush front. I find I sort of like the look of you when you’re furious.”

Harry dropped one hand to Draco’s hip and curled his fingers around it. “I really enjoyed kissing you the other day. Your mouth is lovely.”  He turned him carefully and sought his lips. Draco sighed as they separated. “Delicious.” Harry moved in and kissed him again. “I should probably leave you alone—it isn’t like we can—I mean you’ll have to marry to produce an Heir, right?”

Draco shook his head. “My father had four brothers and they each managed to produce children in a startling Weasley-like manner. Besides, I dumped my betrothed because the thought of marrying a woman makes me want to curse myself.”

Harry laughed. “I know the feeling.”

“But you should marry and provide a Potter Heir. Otherwise you’re the last of your line,” Draco murmured as Harry moved closer. “Probably even as soon as seventeen.”

“In case Voldemort kills me,” Harry murmured and sighed when Draco shuddered. “As my Liegeman, I must insist that you stop being intimidated by that monster’s name.”

“I’ll work on it.”

Harry chuckled. “I’m going to make Dobby pop in on you several times a day and say Voldemort really loud until you stop flinching.”

Draco laughed and moved closer to him. “That sounds abusive, Potter. I thought we’d gotten past all of that childish stuff.”

“We’ll consider it a training exercise,” Harry muttered and then kissed him again. It got hot fast—tongues brushing and exploring until they separated, breathless and hard. “Did you know that my Great-great grandfather bonded with a wizard and together they managed to produce four sons with wild magic.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

“No.” Harry laughed. “And now all of that wild delicious magic is in me. It’s in the Family grimoire.”

“That’s amazing,” Draco murmured. “You know how rare that is? How much love and devotion that takes?”

“I think we should just let nature takes its course,” Harry responded. “We have time and no matter what anyone thinks I’m not going to let that evil son of a bitch kill me like he did my parents. Letting him kill me would be… like slapping my mother in the face. She died for me and I won’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t forget it either,” Draco whispered and then shifted out of Harry’s arms and moved down the shelving to a new section as the door opened. Hermione and Ron came in and Harry focused on the books in front of him to hide his disappointment.

He frowned and pulled a book off the shelf. He flipped it open at a random place and his gaze fell on the words ‘creates a receptacle for the soul piece. In magical beings, this soul fragment can look like a shadow in their magic. Creating a Horcrux is dangerous and to do so is to parlay with insanity. “Can I borrow this book on Horcruxes?”

Draco turned and frowned. “I… that’s very Dark magic, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry turned and looked at him. “I’m not going to do anything weird with it. It’s just some research.”

Draco frowned and handed the three books he’d gathered to Hermione. “Research.” He moved closer. “You’ll have to tell us, Harry. Don’t leave us in the dark like Dumbledore has done to you for years. I believe that Hermione and Ron at least, have earned your honesty and trust.”

Harry swallowed at what Draco hadn’t said about the trust he owed him. “My Healer says I have a shadow in my magic and he believes it’s part of the Killing Curse that Voldemort used on me.”

Draco paled. “You… Merlin!” He snatched the book from Harry’s hand and flipped it open. “Is that why you dream about him?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said dryly. “I haven’t read the book.”

Draco frowned at him and then crossed the room. He brushed his fingers over a rune on the side of the book case and it swung open to reveal another room full of books. “We have to get that fucking thing out of you.”

The three of them followed Draco into the smaller room—another library.

“What are these books?” Hermione questioned.

“Dark magic isn’t inherently evil—it’s just used that way in modern times. There are Dark Arts practitioners in my family who wouldn’t touch the Dark Lord with someone else’s severed hand.” Draco started pulling books. “One of you get Bill in here. We’ll probably need a dverger who is a seriously experienced curse breaker to deal with this.”

“Draco calm down, I’ve had this in me for fourteen years.”

Draco closed his eyes briefly as Hermione rushed from the little room. “I will never by will nor by force, by hand nor by wand, by word nor by work, by willful ignorance or with knowledge do him harm.” He turned to Harry, his eyes blazing. “Do you not even understand what that means? I can’t let you linger with a piece of that monster’s soul in your head!”

“Merlin,” Ron whispered. “What did you do, Malfoy?”

“I did the only thing I could do to prove my loyalty,” Draco snapped.

“A Liege Oath?” Ron whispered. “You or your whole Family?”

“The whole Family,” Draco said shortly. “It keeps our ancestral magic safe from the Dark Lord and it gave Potter a virtual army of very smart, wealthy, wizards and witches. Potion Masters, Mages, and Seers… I have aunts and uncles who use elemental magic as if they were born to it and a pair of Veela cousins that are the very definition of devils when they’re crossed.”

Bill Weasley appeared in the entry way of the little room and frowned. “What’s going on?”

Chapter Six

The other members of the Order leaped to their feet at Bill Weasley’s sudden apparition right into Sirius’ kitchen. They hadn’t been aware that he’d been added to the wards in that way and Sirius just shrugged when they all turned to stare at him.

“He’s Harry’s bodyguard until September 1^st. I couldn’t very well impede his ability to do his job.” Sirius turned to Bill. “You are missing a few people, young man. Where is our Harry?”

Bill pulled off his gloves with exaggerated care and focused on Dumbledore. “I’m stunned you thought I wouldn’t notice. I was troubled by Harry’s appointment with the Healer earlier in the week and I’ve been making a few discreet inquiries into the reason for his spell damage. At first, I really couldn’t believe you hadn’t bothered to even treat him for the Cruciatus Curse damage that still lingered in him from Voldemort’s rising. I was stunned when I heard about it.” He growled when people around the room winced. “But after tonight, I begin to see why you let it linger. Not only did it impede Harry’s magic but it weakened him to such a point that the kid’s link with Voldemort increased two-fold in matter of weeks.”

“I don’t…” Molly trailed off. “What are you saying, Bill?”

“Did you suppose you’d be able to use Harry’s connection with Voldemort to gather intel?” Bill questioned softly and watched Dumbledore’s eyes go wide. “Don’t go innocent on me, old man. You might fool other people in this room with your twinkling eyes and your doddering old wizard act but I do know exactly how sharp your mind is and how powerful you are.”

“I did assume his connection to the Dark Lord might increase, yes. The lingering effects of the Cruciatus Curse wasn’t damaging his magical core, so there was no harm.”

“Except for the bloody nightmares!” Sirius shouted. “He’s been having them for months.”

“He’s having visions, too.” Bill’s hand tightened into a fist. “Vicious painful visions that leave him sick with rage that isn’t even his own. He admitted it just over an hour ago. Of course, by that point—both his Healer and a dverger War Mage were ensconced in a heavily warded underground room at Malfoy Manor doing their level best to heal him. They found what I suspected they would find.”

“What?” Remus asked. “What did they find, Bill?”

“That the Boy Who Lived is a bloody living Horcrux for Voldemort!” Bill shouted and then took a deep breath as horror rolled through their audience. Dumbledore looked singularly gutted and he paused. “You’re telling me you didn’t know?”

“Not for sure, I was afraid to probe too deeply into the spell damage when he was infant and it was contained by his own magic. When he came to Hogwarts he seemed basically unaffected by the curse scar and I didn’t dare risk touching the damage to find out what it was. I’ve come close to the mania that made Tom Riddle what he is today and as you said—I’m powerful. I also couldn’t risk discussing what I believed with others for fear that they would think the child tainted beyond redemption. How would the Wizarding world react if they knew the Boy Who Lived carried part of the Dark Lord’s soul in him?”

“I’ve sworn everyone, including the elves, in the Malfoy house to secrecy and the pact was sealed with dverger magic. At this point, I’m going to ask everyone in this room to take a Wizard’s Oath that they will not discuss this information with anyone outside of Harry himself now or in the future.” Bill looked around the room. “If you can’t make the oath or you’d rather forget you ever knew this—I can and will Obliviate you.”

* * * *

“What’s a dverger War Mage?” Harry questioned softly and Hermione looked up from the book she was reading.

“They were, at one time, used to direct large armies of dverger during the wars. They have powerful magic. Ragnok, for instance, is a War Mage. They are the most powerful magical creatures alive. Magically they are gifted in the mind arts—when I say they directed large armies, that’s what I meant. They entered the minds of thousands of dverger soldiers and moved them around like chess pieces.”

“An apt description, Miss Granger.” Healer Daniels appeared at her side with a collection of potions. “You were smart to suggest Professor Snape. He was able to bring most of what I requested and is currently in the lab with Lord Malfoy brewing the final potion we’ll need before Lenmore is ready to begin.”

Harry nodded and glanced towards the female dverger. “This won’t hurt her, right?”

“You worry for me, young Lord?” Lenmore questioned from her place across the room.

“Voldemort is a nasty, evil thing, Madame. I would not wish to see you hurt by him or whatever he’s left in me.”

“I won’t be,” Lenmore assured.

* * * *

“No, I’m sorry. Malfoy doesn’t want any of you on his property right now. To say he is furious would be an understatement. Only Sirius and Remus are invited. Ron and Hermione won’t be allowed to stay with Harry once the spell work begins either.”

“Why the hell should Draco Malfoy have a say?” Charlie demanded.

Bill took a deep breath. “You’ll have to ask Harry at a later time, Charlie. I can’t tell you—my own Oath prevents it. Needless to say there is no one on this planet I trust more with Harry Potter than Draco Malfoy.”

“On that fact,  I have no choice but to agree,” Sirius said and stood. “I trust you can take Remus and I through their wards, Bill?”

“Yes, but it would save me energy if we apparate to their front gates. Draco will be waiting on us.”

“I insist…” Dumbledore stood. “Bill, I want to be there.”

“The War Mage said specifically that you could not,” Bill murmured without a hint of apology. “You are too powerful and she fears the fragment of Voldemort’s soul might latch onto you instead before she can completely destroy it. She says you border on Dark already and assumes that only the presence of your phoenix keeps you in the Light.”

Albus sat down abruptly and nodded. “I see.”

“Good.” Bill paused and then stared at Albus. “He didn’t know he made Harry a Horcrux—he would have never set out to kill him if he’d known.”

“I know of several others—including the diary that Harry destroyed his second year at Hogwarts. I’m searching for the others,” Dumbledore admitted.

“I’m not a member of the Order,” Bill said. “And at this point the only way I will join is if you swear on your magic you will stop keeping your secrets. We could have destroyed the Horcruxes before he was ever able to rise again, especially since you’ve known about them for so long. If you can’t trust us how are we supposed to trust you?”

* * * *

“It’s going to hurt,” Harry murmured.

Lenmore inclined her head. “Very much so, but physical pain is something you are very adept at handling.”

“I had to learn the hard way,” Harry admitted and looked away from Ron and Hermione who were staring at him in horror. “The scar has been hurting off and on for a while now. Voldemort hurts me through it—I’m not sure if he knows about our connection. I think if he did, he would be trying to kill me through it.”

“I agree,” Lenmore said and walked away from the bed. “Your Vassal and Liegeman will remain during the ritual. I will need Professor Snape for potions—everyone else must stay outside the wards of the room.” She held up a hand when Ron started to protest. “I understand your desire to be with Lord Potter but your mind will be a tempting refuge for the soul fragment. You are young and innocent, Mr. Weasley. It’s best that you remain that way for now.”

Harry lifted his head as Sirius entered the room and held out a hand. “Did Draco give you the lecture?”

Sirius chuckled. “Yes, I am to be on my best behavior in his home or he will chain me to the wall in the dungeon where upon I will remember Azkaban fondly until he feels I’ve suffered enough for my rudeness.”

“He’s such a Slytherin,” Harry complained and waved a hand towards Snape who was leaning against the wall. “He’s been pouring potions down my throat for the past two hours. I’ve never been so bloody wasted in my life.” He smirked then. “It’s pretty great.”

Sirius glanced briefly at Snape but contented himself to brushing hair from Harry’s forehead. “I think I should probably lecture you for getting wasted. I’m sure your mother would have wanted me to.”

Harry grinned. “Would she have been the kind to say my whole name?”

“Yes,” Snape and Sirius answered at the same time. The two men shared a surprised look and then a smirk.

Sirius laughed. “In fact, she often used your father’s full name in school and after school when he got on her last nerve. While she was giving birth to you—she cursed him and six generations of Potters for her suffering. The Birthing Charms weren’t working on her and your mother was convinced it was because the Healer was a Dark Lord sympathizer out to make her suffer as much as possible and James laughed at her.”

“That prat,” Harry slurred. “How dare he laugh at my mother.”

“Exactly so,” Sirius murmured. “She got him with a stinging hex. The only spell she could do wandless.”

“I want to learn wandless… Dobby says I can.” Harry shuddered.

“It’s time for the next potion,” Severus murmured. He moved forward and prodded Sirius aside.

“Let me,” Sirius murmured reaching for the vial.

“No, you are here to comfort him. He doesn’t expect anything but grief from me.” Severus slid his hand under Harry’s head and tipped his gently. “Open your mouth, Potter. This is the last of them.”

“Nasty,” Harry muttered before he complied. He gagged on the potion but Snape tilted his head further until he had no choice but to swallow. “You bastard.”

“I’m going to take a hundred points from you, Mr. Potter, at the first opportunity.”

Harry coughed and waved a hand negligently at Snape. “I’ll still kick Draco’s ass at quidditch because I’m awesome.”

Draco laughed from the doorway. “I heard that Potter.”

“You know I’m awesome,” Harry muttered and sighed. He turned to his godfather. “He’s really pretty, you know. Kind of like a girl but better.”

Sirius chuckled and leaned forward. He kissed Harry’s forehead with a smile. “You’re going to seriously regret this if you remember it.”

“Well thank fuck I won’t remember,” Harry replied. “The dverger lady said I won’t.” He gripped Sirius shirt then. “It’s going to hurt worse than anything ever, Sirius and she promised I wouldn’t remember it.”

“You won’t, young wizard,” Lenmore murmured. “Lord Black, you will have to retreat to the outer room so we can begin.”

* * * *

Draco pressed a strap of leather into Harry’s mouth as Snape rendered him immobile. He ran his fingers through Potter’s thick hair almost mindlessly and took a deep breath. “I’m right here, Harry, and I won’t leave you. I’ll be here the whole time.” He continued petting him. “It can’t hurt me because of my Oath to you. Oddly enough Snape’s Dark Mark will probably protect him. Everything will be fine.” He huffed. “And I’m not pretty like a girl.”

“You kind of are,” Ron offered through the invisible wards. They were all crowded against the doorway—even though they could no longer enter the space. “I mean, I used to not get what people saw in you. Maybe it’s that shirt but you’re kind of pretty all of a sudden.”

“I think it’s the hair,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I just to want to play with it.”

Sirius snorted. “It’s his Family magic. The Malfoys are powerful and with that kind of power comes attraction.”

Draco tried to smile, aware they were trying to distract him from what was to come. Harry’s eye lids were fluttering under the powerful potions Snape had dosed him with. He knew it wouldn’t be enough once the dverger started casting. He glanced towards Healer Daniels. “Why did I put a strap in his mouth?”

“To keep him from breaking his jaw or biting his tongue in half,” Daniels murmured. “I’ll probably have to work on him for days after this but the any injuries we can prevent we should try to prevent.”

“Right.” Draco took the cloth that Dobby offered him and washed Harry’s face carefully. “He’s broken a sweat.”

“Then it is time.”

Lenmore moved to the end of the narrow cot Harry had been strapped to and cast loose her magical power with such force that Snape staggered briefly before he sank to his knees next to Draco. Harry bowed up off the bed and then he screamed—it was the most horrific sound Draco had ever heard in his life.

The sound was inhuman but also unlike any animal he’d ever been exposed to. Beside him, Dobby started to cry and scramble to sooth his human Master. Harry’s curse scar started to bleed within minutes and then a black mist started to rise out of his body. It was in a word, horrific. There was nothing for it. Harry clenched his teeth and started to sob uncontrollably. Tears and blood mixed on his face despite Dobby’s efforts to clean the blood away.

The mist flowed around the room—first trying to find a haven in Draco but it was immediately repelled by a dark green light. Snape hissed in pain when it tried to approach him and then the mist flowed into a tight mass where it writhed and a piercing sound burst from it.

Harry started to scream again and his body snapped upward as he tried to free himself from the ropes. Lenmore’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and just as Draco thought she was going to fail the mist evaporated and Harry slumped in a dead faint. Dobby, Snape, and then Lenmore followed.

Draco took a deep breath and looked towards the doorway. The pale faces and the silence said all there was to say.

* * * *

Sirius stumbled up the stairs and into a small bathroom as Narcissa and Remus appeared from the doorway of the library. It had been decided that they would both remain above during the ritual. Narcissa for appearances sake in case they had visitors and Remus because he was a Dark creature and they weren’t sure how the ritual would go if he was near.

He lost his dinner and collapsed on the tile. “Merlin.”

“It’s done?” Remus questioned.

Sirius nodded. “Yes, the Healer is getting him ready to bring up stairs. He’s… he struggled so much that he broke his wrist and dislocated his shoulder.” He accepted the wet cloth he was offered and rubbed at this face roughly. “There is… nothing we can do to make up for what he’s suffered. I have dishonored my role as a godfather in such a way that I don’t even understand how I still have my magic.”

“Nothing that has happened to Harry is your fault,” Narcissa snapped.

“If I hadn’t lost my temper and gone after Peter… I could have taken Harry away, protected him from Dumbledore’s plans and those vicious Muggles. I made stupid, immature mistakes and Harry paid for them! I never should have suggested Peter be the Secret Keeper. I should have accepted my responsibility to James and Lily.” Sirius closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall.

“It was a good choice at the time, no one would have ever expected Peter to be the Secret Keeper.” Remus slid to his knees beside him and ran his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “He betrayed us all, Siri, and nothing could have prepared us for that.”

Narcissa leaned in the doorway and watched them for several minutes before she cleared her throat. “I’ve managed to send a message to Wormtail. He thinks he’s coming here to talk to my son about joining the Dark Lord.” She smirked when both men turned to stare at her shocked. “Once I have him in custody—I thought I’d torture him for a few days and then take him to the dverger court where upon he will be forced to reveal his misdeeds to the world.”

“You are beautiful,” Sirius said without a single hesitation. “And kind of evil, but I like it.”

She smirked and shrugged. “I’ll go prepare a room for Harry’s recovery and then it’s probably a good idea for one of you to retrieve Mrs. Weasley. She will want to see her children and Harry.”

* * * *

Shouting woke Harry and it wasn’t much of a surprise—shouting often woke Harry from a dead sleep during the school hear. Seamus and Dean were always fighting first thing in the morning. He sat up abruptly and rubbed his face. One glance around the elegantly appointed room told him he was still at Malfoy Manor.

He pulled on a robe but didn’t bother belting it as he left the room and followed the source of the extreme amount of noise and found Sirius and Snape shouting at each other – both of them with their wands drawn.

Draco was lounging in a chair, watching them and looking quite bored with it. He waved at Harry when he saw him and Harry just sort of lost it.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Harry shouted, his voice hoarse. Snape and Sirius both turned to look at him, shocked. “No, you know what? I don’t give a damn what’s going on in here. The two of you are going to drive me completely insane. Since you’ve barely seen each other in over fourteen years—you can only be arguing about stuff that happened when you were in school. Which makes you both look and sound ridiculous and petty. In case you missed it, you bloody wankers, I feel like I got run over by a Dementor. My head hurts, my arm hurts, my back hurts, and all I want to do is sleep.” He turned to glare at Draco. “And shame on you for letting them carry on like this. Kick them both out so I can sleep.”

Draco stood up abruptly and sighed. “Alright then, Severus—Hogwarts and Sirius—back to Headquarters with you, and perhaps you two can work out your differences before you make the young and gorgeous Lord Potter lose his ever loving mind.”

Snape glared at his godson. “You’d take his side?”

“I took Potter’s side weeks ago and I will remain on his side until he draws his last breath. I have apologized to every Weasley within reach for my behavior and sent letters to other students at Hogwarts apologizing for my poor treatment of them. That took a week, I’ll have you both know. I sent formal apologies to three different House Elves because if Harry knew how I treated them he would be furious with me. Now if I can do that—the least the two of you can do is have your little unresolved sexual tension induced fights out of his hearing, no matter how much it might amuse me to watch.”

Draco sighed and left the room, disappointed at the loss of his entertainment and little irritated with himself for letting it go on so close to Harry. He should have realized he would wake up but it had been a full day since the ritual and Lenmore said he might sleep as much as a week. He found Harry sitting at a small table in the room he’d been given with a meal set out in front of him. Dobby was fussing quietly with several potions.

Draco took a chair across from him and shook his head when Dobby offered him food. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“It’s…” Harry waved his fork and chewed moodily on a piece of bacon. “It’s insane the way they fight. I don’t know what happened between them as kids but there has to be a time and a place where that stuff gets set aside.”

“You look exhausted,” Draco murmured as Harry pushed away the half-eaten plate of food. “Take your nutrient potion and we’ll tuck you back into bed.”

* * * *

“It is all good and well we took the fragment from him when we did,” Lenmore murmured her gaze drifting around Dumbledore’s office. “He would have never survived the procedure as a child. His Family magic is very strong. The room was thick with it after I was able to extract the dark piece from him.”

“Did it damage him?” Moody questioned. “Can we trust him to be… on the side of the Light?” His magical eye whirled gently when several people protested his question. “It needs to be asked!”

“Lily Potter died for the love of her child. She sacrificed her life to protect him. That is ancient blood magic—there are very few things more powerful in this world than a mother’s love,” Lenmore began. “Lord Potter has been wrapped in that love his entire life—even after her murder. It protected him from the cruel people he lived with, healed him, kept him alive when he was physically and emotionally abused. If he was going to be Dark—he would have turned long ago. Darkness does not brew in the mind of a wizard overnight. It takes years to develop, to nurture, and to grow into the thing we see when we look at Tom Riddle.” Lenmore looked at Dumbledore then. “Sometimes, the Darkness lingers in a soul that was once close to turning but then chose a different path due to trauma.” She looked at Snape. “Harry Potter is strong, his mind is agile, and he comes from a family line built on pure and wild magic. The love of 15 generations dwells in him.”

“He is safe then,” Albus murmured. “That’s what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying, Albus, that Harry Potter’s magic is Pure and Light in ways we have not seen in a wizard in more than a thousand years. Harry Potter is capable of powerful things and now that he is no longer hindered by the soul fragment of that foul creature—he will prove himself worthy of the prophecies that surround him.” She paused and laughed at his startled expression. “You can’t think that your witch Seer was the only one to foresee the destruction of the Dark Lord at the hands of Harry Potter?”

“There is more than one?” Moody questioned.

Lenmore inclined her head. “Of course, such is the way of great men and those that chose the path of righteousness. He’s fierce of heart, strong of spirit, and the virtual embodiment of justice in this world. He is capable of wielding the Light and the Dark Arts with equal ease but his intent will always be Light—even when he is forced to kill to defend himself. I would advise all in this room to remember that he is not one that can be managed and controlled.”

* * * *

“How are things at Potter Manor?” Harry questioned.

“Theys ready for you, Master Harry, I tells Willaby that you were ill but you are better now.”

Harry nodded and looked around his office. “Can you ask Bill if he’s available for travel today? I’d like to see Potter Manor at least once before I return to school.”

“Of course.”

Dobby blinked away as Hedwig flew through the window and perched on the small pedestal by the desk. Harry retrieved the letter she had tied to her leg and gave her a treat.

Lord Potter,

 

Your Muggle relatives are demanding to see you. I have a branch of my office in Muggle London and your Uncle has shown up twice demanding that we produce you or he will tell the Muggle authorities that you’ve been kidnapped.

 

Cecil Riser

Riser, Mills & Coats

Harry sighed and then looked up as Bill entered the room. “My Uncle Vernon is threatening to report me kidnapped if he doesn’t see me immediately.”

Bill grimaced. “I can take you to the house?”

“That works,” Harry pulled picked up his wand and slid it into the narrow holster built into his jeans and ran his hands through his hair. “I thought they were still on their vacation and I told them I never wanted to see them again.”

Bill offered him his hand with a sigh and they apparated.

The little house on Privet Drive didn’t look any different to Harry but the dread he’d always experienced at the sight of the place was gone. The wards flexed slightly as they passed through them and Harry frowned. He’d never noticed them before so it was interesting to feel them now. He knocked briskly on the door and it was thrown open immediately by Dudley who glared at him.

“Hello Dudley.”

“Dad’s been trying to find you for days, Freak.”

“You’ll mind your mouth,” Bill said evenly. “Or I’ll be forced to do a hell of a lot more to you than give you a pig’s tail.” He prodded Harry into the house and glared at Dudley some more.

“Are your parents here?”

“Her and Dad are in the kitchen. She’s been a nutter since your birthday. I don’t know what you did, but you’d better fix it.”

Harry frowned but followed Dudley into the kitchen area where he found his Aunt and Uncle sitting at the table. His Aunt was staring into her tea with a blank look on her face and Vernon was bitching at her.

Vernon spotted Harry and demanded, “What have you done to her, Freak?”

Bill pulled his wand.

“Relax,” Harry touched his arm. “They can’t help how stupid they are. Something is obviously wrong with her. Can you check her out?”

Bill glared briefly at Harry, pointed his wand at Petunia, and cast a medical diagnostic charm. He blinked briefly in surprise as he ended the charm and sighed. “Right. Okay.”

“What is it?”

“She never had enough magic to be trained as witch but she wasn’t exactly a squib either. However, how she allowed you to be treated in her home was such an affront to magic itself that when you claimed your title—she lost what little magic she had. Her body and mind are adjusting to the change but, she needs a Healer to completely heal.” Bill winced when Vernon exploded so he tossed a stupefying spell at him without hesitation. “We can obliviate him so he doesn’t lose his mind on her.”

“Can you help her?” Dudley demanded.

“She needs medical care, obviously,” Bill said snidely. “Else she might do herself in. The loss of one’s magic is very traumatic even if they are unaware that they have it at all.” He turned to Harry. “We’ll have to take her to a special Healer.”

“Right.” Harry grimaced. “We need to obliviate Uncle Vernon and convince him that Aunt Petunia is going through a depression and he’s sent her to a private clinic.” He turned to Dudley. “Do you need to be obliviated, too? Because if you’re going to abuse her for what she once was…”

“She’s my mum!” Dudley protested. “I just want her better and I don’t care what you do with Dad just as long as he doesn’t hurt her.”

“Right.” Harry frowned and turned to Bill. “You said a few weeks. Can we make sure he isn’t concerned about the bill or anything that might lead him questioning her absence?”

“Not a problem,” Bill said. “She’ll need to spend a few weeks at a clinic. Losing any amount of magic through bad acts is a difficult thing to overcome, but they’ll set her to rights.”

“Right, but not St. Mungo’s.” Harry frowned. “I don’t want her at the mercy of Fudge and his cronies. She might not understand what it means to be Family but I do.”

* * * *

The clinic was located in Scotland, only about a hundred miles from Hogwarts. Harry liked the look of it and his Aunt just looked around listlessly as they checked in. The Healer assigned to her case entered the room with an elegant sweep of his robes.

Petunia shivered and shifted away from him immediately. Harry thought to himself that he’d never seen his aunt so quiet and so completely cowed in his life. He hated it but found he couldn’t quite hate her.

“We keep those who have lost their magic in a group ward two floors down.”

Harry frowned, that would be underground. He looked around the sunlit private room they’d already been escorted into and shook his head. “My Aunt will stay here.” He turned to stare head on at the Healer when he made a negative sound. “My Aunt will stay here. She has lived as a Muggle her entire life and had very little magic to begin with. In fact, she had so little she was never invited to a magical school. She didn’t know she had magic and she’s afraid of it. You will not house her in a spell damage ward or in the basement of this facility.”

“Most who lose their magic are disowned by their family and they hardly care where they are housed during treatment,” the Healer returned stiffly.

“Are you aware of who I am?”

“One would have to be an idiot not to know who you are, young man.”

“Good. My Aunt will receive the best of care in this nice room I’m paying for. She will be treated with respect and dignity at all times. She will not be threatened with magic nor will you be her Healer. I don’t like you. Get out and send in someone in with some compassion or I will be spending my money with a different clinic.”

Bill snorted as the Healer hurried away. “The attitude is gorgeous, kid.”

Harry grinned and glanced towards the older Weasley. “You’re just lucky I’m trying to tame a dragon or I’d climb in your lap. Then what would your mum say about you corrupting the Boy Who Lived?”

Bill leaned against the wall and sighed. “Nothing good I imagine. I’d probably get howlers for years.” He grinned then and shrugged. “But I think it would be worth it. Though she’s always has had her heart on you marrying into the family. Ginny has a wicked crush on you.”

“She doesn’t really know me,” Harry murmured and then sighed just before another Healer came into the room.

“Lord Potter, I am Emily St. James. I took a NEWT in Muggle Studies as well as Charms and Transfiguration. I have a Masteries in both Healing and the Mind Arts. One of my children lives as a Muggle in London due to his squib status.” She folded her hands in front of her as she spoke. “I’m very adept at dealing with Muggles and I’ve been told your Aunt fears magic.”

“To an exaggerated degree,” Harry admitted. “Her husband is an abusive and vile man who would probably throw her in the streets if he’d ever thought she was remotely magical. I won’t have her mistreated by anyone here. She can’t really help the way she is now.”

“Your position is commendable under the circumstances,” Amelia murmured. “And I will undertake her care personally. I can also see her returned to her home in a few weeks time.”

“Her husband should not see you. He must not suspect she’s had magical treatment as he would likely throw her and their child in the street.”

Emily flushed with anger but nodded. “Very well. I will make sure he does not see me and that she receives the proper medical care.”

Harry nodded and then focused on Petunia. He knelt down on one knee in front of her and she looked at him—her eyes blurry and uncertain. “Aunt Petunia, you’re going to stay here with Emily and she’s going to set you to rights. Uncle Vernon won’t remember what happened today but if you ever need my help—you can contact my solicitor, okay? I’m going to make sure your bills for this clinic are taken care of and Mr. Riser will be checking on you. Did you want me to come back and check on you as well?”

Petunia shook her head. “You’re busy now. Better off without us, without me.”

Harry winced. “Aunt Petunia, you are the only connection I have with my mother and I respect that. I can’t say I was ever happy in your home but I do realize that Vernon was mostly to blame.”

“He scares me sometimes,” Petunia murmured. “It’s been better with you gone. He hates you so much, Harry. Hates you for your money and your power.”

“He hated me when I had neither,” Harry reminded dryly.

“Even when you were a small baby—the magic in you was obvious. Sometimes you just glowed with it and you were so beautiful.” Petunia sighed wistfully. “I should have left him then—when he made me ignore your crying. I’m a horrible person, Harry. You shouldn’t care what these people do to me.”

“I do care,” Harry said and touched her hand carefully. “I care very much and Merlin help the person who mistreats you while you’re here.”

Harry stood and then left the room quickly to keep from saying more. He turned as St. James followed him out. “Her husband’s name is Vernon Dursley—I doubt seriously he’ll find her here. We have him convinced she’s seeking treatment for depression and that she’ll be home in a few weeks. I expect twice weekly reports on her progress and you’re authorized to perform any procedure on her that will see her healthy and mentally stable. If she asks for me, I expect to be notified immediately. If she asks for someone named Dudley—that’s her son. Tell her he’s returned to school and she’ll see him for Christmas holidays.”

“Of course, Lord Potter.”

Harry nodded and then paused. “And that other Healer? I don’t want him anywhere near my Aunt while she recovers. No exceptions.”

“He’ll be given a few weeks off to recover from his poor attitude,” Amelia promised.

* * * *

Harry took a deep breath as they reappeared in front of the house on Privet Drive. “You can tune the wards so I’ll be notified if he starts hitting her or Dudley?”

“Yeah,” Bill murmured and closed his eyes. “You’re too good a person, Harry. She let him abuse you for years and she let you starve.”

“People will do a lot of evil things to survive, Bill.” Harry frowned as Dudley came out the front door. “Where is your Dad?”

“He went to the store to stock up microwave food,” Dudley shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned at Bill. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s updating the protective wards around the house so I’ll be notified if your Dad hits you or your mother,” Harry said bluntly. “I won’t be coming back here unless I have no choice. The wards also prevent magical people who aren’t authorized from coming into the house. It protects you.”

Dudley nodded. “Right. Okay. Is my Mum, okay?”

“She’s ill but she’ll recover,” Harry looked up and down the street. He really hated the street and most of the people who lived there. The neighbors had always ignored him or treated him with disdain. His Uncle had made sure he had no refuge. “Just don’t make a mistake and let it slip to your Dad, Dudley. I don’t know how he would… he’d probably kill her before I could get here.”

“I can protect my own Mum,” Dudley snapped and then stalked back into the house.

* * * *

Harry pulled off his robe and hung it up on a hook on by the door before settling into his desk to frown. When he and Bill had returned Moody had tried to lecture him about leaving the house without notice. Harry hadn’t even had the energy to respond—he’d just walked out of the kitchen while Moody bitched and complained.

The thumps of Moody coming up the stairs irritated the hell out of him. He wasn’t surprised when Professor McGonagall glided gracefully into the room shortly before Moody. She’d been seated in the kitchen with Molly when they’d appeared. Mrs. Weasley was directly behind Moody as he entered.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Moody bellowed.

Harry frowned at him. “I had family business to take care of and I’m not required to answer to anyone regarding my comings and goings from this house. If you don’t like it—I’ll spend the rest of the summer in one of my own residences, Moody. My godfather requested that I stay here and so far I’ve seen no reason not to indulge him. That can change if you refuse to treat me politely.”

Moody glared. “You might have the others around here cowed into thinking you’ll just disappear but I don’t buy it for a minute. I heard you screaming in your miserable little room on Privet Drive for weeks. You’re not going to give up the security of staying with your godfather and if you don’t start walking the line—I’ll take that Black bastard back in Azkaban myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“Alastor!” Minerva snapped. “How dare you threaten Harry that way.”

Harry stood. “Dobby!”

Dobby appeared immediately at his side. “Yes, Master Harry.”

“Go find my godfather immediately and take him to Potter Manor. He stays there until I arrive. I don’t care what he has to say on the matter.”

Dobby disappeared immediately and then Harry focused on Moody. “Here are some facts for you, Moody. I don’t trust you. Probably through no fault of your own—I might never trust you. Every time I look at you I think about the Tri-Wizard Tournament and what that event cost me. It probably isn’t fair but I blame you. I blame you for your weakness, for getting captured and used by an insane Death Eater. I blame you for the nightmares I had for months about being burned alive by a dragon. I blame you for the fact that if I get near a body of water bigger than a bloody bathtub I freeze up on the inside and that sometimes I still have nightmares about Ron drowning, and most of all I blame you for the nightmares you so callously threw in my face. I watched a living, breathing nightmare be reborn when I was forced to be an instrument in the resurrection of my own mortal enemy.”

“Harry,” Molly whispered softly, clearly horrified.

Harry glanced at her briefly before continuing. “And for you to stand here in Sirius’ home and threaten to take him back to Azkaban when you know he’s innocent makes me sick.”

Harry used his thumb to activate Mehen and the metal snake shifted on his wrist and hissed. He hissed out the word “Sanctuary” in response and disappeared.

* * * *

He stumbled and landed on his arse in the middle of the Malfoy’s foyer with a disgruntled curse. Draco’s personal house elf, Elbe, appeared at his side and looked  him over, clearly amused. “Master Draco’s Serpent is not graceful.”

Harry frowned at the elf. “Master Draco’s house elf is quite rude.”

“That’s why I picked him,” Draco said with a small laugh from the landing in the middle of the large staircase. “Not that you don’t make a gorgeous sprawl on that Italian marble, Harry, but don’t think it’s time you mastered using a portkey?”

Harry sighed and stood up. “Mad Eye Moody threatened to throw Sirius in Azkaban if I didn’t start obeying his orders. So I had Dobby kidnap Sirius and take him to Potter Manor. It’s unplottable and I came here for a short stop before I call my Head House Elf and check out my main estate for the rest of the summer. I’ll have to get Dobby to do my school shopping for me.”

Draco inclined his head. “Can I come along?”

“Your mum won’t mind?”

Draco shook his head. “She’s not here. She’s in Paris taking a few lessons from my Father’s brother on capturing an Animagus.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You did, after all, set her on taking care of Wormtail. I assure you she’s quite taken with the idea of torturing the truth out of him.”

Harry laughed. “Okay. Yeah, send her a note though so she won’t worry.” He frowned. “So how I do I call my Head Elf? I’ve never met him.”

“You Muggle,” Draco accused with no small amount of affection. “Just say his name with intent like you would Dobby. He’s connected to you through Family magic.”

“Right.” Harry nodded. “Willaby!”

The elf that appeared in front of him looked quite youthful and was dressed in a little suit made of pillow cases much like the one Dobby had worn briefly before becoming Harry’s Vassal. His vest was made of a tea towel and he had the Potter crest on his pocket.

“Lord Potter,” Willaby bowed formally. “Your Vassal has delivered Lord Black to Potter Manor and he is quite upset.”

Harry just bet. “Right. I’m sure he is. Can you take me there and then return here in a half-hour to bring Lord Malfoy?”

“Of course,” Willaby said and offered his hand.

* * * *

“Dobby, you little bastard, you release me this very second!”

“Hey,” Harry exclaimed with a laughed and then flicked his wand over the ropes on Sirius. The bonds fell away. “Don’t attack him—he was just following orders.”

Sirius glared. “You…”

“Moody threatened to return you to Azkaban if I didn’t start following his instructions,” Harry snapped and then took a deep breath. “So I had Dobby kidnap you. Sorry.”

Sirius frowned. “That bastard.” He reached out and pulled Harry to him—aware that the younger man was shaking.

Harry buried his face against Sirius’ robes and fisted his hands against his back. “Don’t… you’re all the family I have, Sirius and I won’t let anyone take you from me. If the Ministry recaptured you, I’d probably tear Azkaban to the ground to get you back.”

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for losing my temper, pup.” He glanced at Dobby who was standing off to the side of the room, ears quivering. “My apologies, Dobby. I know you were just doing your duty.”

* * * *

“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Remus demanded. “You threatened Sirius?”

Moody glared. “The kid barely knows the man. How was I to know he’d take it like that? You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Sirius Black is the only parent Harry has left,” Albus murmured. “I have worked day and night for over a year to keep him out of the hands of the Ministry for Harry. When we found out he was innocent of the charges—Harry came to me and begged me to keep him safe. I gave him a Wizard’s Oath that I would do everything within my power to see Sirius safe until we could safely prove him innocent of the charges.”

“Your gross misconduct has insured that Harry may never learn to trust the Order,” Minerva snapped and crossed her arms. “I expected better of you, Moody, but perhaps that was mistake.” She glared at him briefly and turned to stare pointedly at the fire.

“Do we know where the Potter Manor is?” Moody demanded, glaring at Remus.

Remus shook his head. “And even if I did know—I wouldn’t tell anyone in this room.” He blinked when a house elf appeared abruptly in front of him. The elf glanced around the room, glared at Moody, and then held out his hand for Remus. Lupin shrugged and took it.

Sirius was standing in front of him the next thing he knew and the elf had released his hand. “Are you okay?”

Remus inclined his head. “Albus is throwing quite the fit. Minerva looks like she wants to put Moody in detention for a decade.”

Sirius jerked his head towards the stairs. “Our young Lord Potter is upstairs getting a tour. The elves are very eager to have him here so I don’t expect we’ll get much rest.” He checked his watch and didn’t appear surprised when Willaby returned with Draco Malfoy and several trunks in tow. He looked over the trunks. “You certainly don’t travel light.”

Draco flushed. “Only two are mine. The third is Harry’s new wardrobe. It was delivered this morning.” Sirius grinned and Draco blushed further. “Stop looking at me like that, Black, it’s… kind of sexy and that’s weird since we’re cousins.”

“Distant cousins,” Sirius said with a bright smile.

“I’d hate to have to put you down, Padfoot,” Harry said from the top of the staircase. “I don’t think I’ll ever encounter another Animagus in my entire life with a more appropriate form.”

Sirius smirked. “Except maybe you. You’ve gotten slinky on us, pup.”

Harry inclined his head and then his gaze settled on Draco. “You wanna see?”

“How can you even ask me that question?” Draco demanded.

Harry closed his eyes.

Draco took a deep breath at the seamless and near instant transformation. Harry flowed down the staircase, taking one step as human before going snake on them. The boa constrictor was huge—sleek, black, and so entrancing that he didn’t even move as Harry slithered over his feet. “Sweet Merlin, Potter. There a wizards and witches in my family that would forfeit a limb for this form.”

Harry curled his tail briefly around Draco’s leg and then abruptly shifted human a mere inch from his friend. “It’s the most fun. You would not believe how sexy it feels sliding around like that.”

“I can take a guess,” Draco admitted a little breathless. “How about you give me a tour of your bedroom?”

Harry laughed. “Despite rumors to the contrary, Draco, Gryffindors are not easy.” He curled his hand into Malfoy’s. “I will, however, show you where you’ll be staying. Leave the trunks—the house elves will take care of them.”

“I’m easy,” Sirius corrected. “In fact, most Gryffindors I knew in school were easy.”

“Orgies were common,” Remus agreed and then grinned when both boys turned to look at them. “Mostly sixth and seventh years.”

Harry pointed at him and frowned. “My mother never participated in an orgy!”

Sirius grinned. “No, of course not. Lily and James actually got engaged sixth year.”

* * * *

Draco applied his Seal and sat back as he watched Mr. Riser and his own solicitor, Joseph Wilbanks, check the duplication on the contracts. The original would go to Gringotts to be sealed and the two copies would be filed with their lawyers for records purposes.

Cecil Riser cleared his throat. “Could I ask about the company name?”

Harry grinned and set aside the quill he’d be playing with. “He’s my Dragon.”

“And he’s my Serpent,” Draco murmured in returned.

The two solicitors exchanged glances and Riser cleared his throat. “In that case, should we be investigating current bond laws and heir management for same sex marriages?”

Harry grinned. “Well, I don’t suppose it would hurt for you to be prepared.”

“Agreed,” Draco said with a small shrug.

“Your merger would be one of the most powerful and profitable in recent times,” Wilbanks offered, trying to appear unexcited by the prospect but failing miserably. “Between the two of you’d have your fingers in every major endeavor in most of magical Europe.”

“Right now we’ll settle for buying the Daily Prophet. We’d like to own the majority of the shares by the end of business day tomorrow. Then you’ll want to hire an outside solicitor to act as the public face for the new company—someone not connected with me or Harry.”

“That person will lay down the law with the editorial staff of the paper—they can’t publish anything based on rumor or speculation. The Daily Prophet shouldn’t be a gossip rag, it should be legitimate news,” Harry murmured. “We’re going to need honest reporting once the war starts.”

“Right,” Draco agreed. “They should be free and clear of Ministry influence as soon as possible. We aren’t interested in curtailing what they report as long as it is done honestly and based on fact.”

“Even if it reflects poorly on one of you or your families?” Wilbanks questioned.

“Even so,” Draco raised an eyebrow when Wilbanks started to respond. “I realize that’s not how my father did things, Joseph, but I have a clean slate with the Wizarding world in no small part due to his final actions on this Earth. I’d like to honor my father’s sacrifice with an honest life. That means I’m not going to buy people off if Uncle Leenus gets drunk and sleeps with six Muggle hookers in Monte Carlo again.”

Harry choked on his tea. “He didn’t!”

“He did,” Draco said dryly. “He’s half-Veela, Potter, a product of my grandfather’s second marriage. I’m fortunate it was just six the last time. He has never found his mate… so after he did his duty by fathering two sons, he got divorced and has proceeded to fuck his way across the planet.” He waved a hand lazily. “A sex scandal might do the Family some good anyways. Might be nice if the Malfoy family was in the papers for something besides being chattel to a Dark Lord.”

Wilbanks snorted and then managed to school his expression. “As you wish, Lord Malfoy.”

* * * *

Harry shuddered as Draco’s mouth sealed against the side of his neck. He curled his fingers into the pale mane of hair that Malfoy had taken on since his father’s death. It fell thick, beautiful and silky down past his shoulders. He’d mumbled something about a growth charm when Harry had mentioned it.

They settled on the bed in a tangle of clothed limbs, content with kisses and a small bit of exploration. Draco lifted his head and brushed Harry’s hair from his forehead with a small frown. “The scar faded some, you know.”

Harry nodded. “Lenmore said I’d never get rid of it but it was would eventually fade to almost white now that the curse damage has been healed.” He bit down on his bottom lip briefly. “I know it’s ugly.”
Draco frowned and shifted to his side slightly. “You can’t possibly think that scar makes you ugly, Harry.”

Harry shrugged and looked away. “People find me attractive because of my magical power or my money or the fame. I don’t know.”

“I liked you the first time I saw you—when you were dressed in Muggle rags and I didn’t even know your name. Granted, I was eleven so it wasn’t like I was thinking of sex but when I wanted to be your friend… it wasn’t about any of that. I didn’t know you’d be powerful or rich or even that you were the Boy Who Lived.” He pressed a soft kiss against the corner of Harry’s mouth. “You’re changing pretty rapidly, you know. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you’ve probably gained two or three inches in height in the past three weeks. You’re also filling out very nicely,” he whispered trailing his hand down the center of Harry’s chest.

Harry blushed furiously. “I noticed. Dobby has been hard pressed to keep up with me on the growth front. He’ll be pleased with the new wardrobe. He says he can put permanent charms on the clothes because they were tailored for me and not bought off the rack.”

“He’s right,” Draco murmured and propped his head on one hand. “It is true, however, that your Family magic is changing your magical aura and it has made you insanely attractive. But I wanted to crawl on top of you last year—when you were still scrawny and just pretty powerful on your own.” He frowned. “That you were the Boy Who Lived was a problem actually. I figured my father would never allow me to pursue you seriously as long as Voldemort was a threat.”

“Did he know that you wanted me?” Harry questioned.

Draco flushed. “I think he understood that my feelings toward you weren’t what he would have preferred.”

There was a knock on the door before Harry could reply and they reluctantly separated to slide off the bed. Draco sat down in a chair near the dormant fire place while Harry went to answer it.

Sirius offered him a folded piece of paper. “Dumbledore has managed to get a letter through the wards. I don’t think he knows where we are.”

“He used Fawkes to find me,” Harry guessed and Sirius nodded. “That’s not surprising; I have his tears in me.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked. “Why would Fawkes cry for you?”

Harry glanced out into the hall and saw Remus frowning. “It happened first when I went down into the Chamber of Secrets after Ginny Weasley.”

“The basilisk bit you?” Sirius questioned softly, horror tingeing his voice.

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, I honestly didn’t even know I was dying until Fawkes landed on me and cried into the wound. Madame Pomfrey mentioned the bite in my medical report when she healed me after the problem but I’ve never really talked about it to anyone.”

He walked away from them and opened the letter from Dumbledore.

Harry,

 

Words can cannot express how worried I am about you. I hope you are safe but as I’ve had no opportunity to inspect the wards around Potter Manor… I’m unsure. I trust that Sirius and Remus are with you at this point. It’s disappointing but understanding that you no longer trust the Order with your family.

 

Moody would like the opportunity to apologize but we are aware that you not in the frame of mind to listen to it. Trust me when I say that I’ve made him very aware of your position and your importance in the war against Voldemort.

 

I have secured a very experienced and respected teacher for DADA this year and I believe you will be pleased.

 

Also, please be aware that Minister Fudge has managed to put Delores Umbridge into Hogwarts as the Divination teacher. I have taken the liberty of removing you from her class – so if you feel that you need instruction on that subject, we can arrange a private tutor for next summer. If you have classes you’d prefer to take instead, please let Minerva know.

 

Sincerely,

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Order of Merlin

Harry sighed. “We’re getting a new DADA teacher and Umbridge has been planted into the school by Fudge to spy on me. Apparently replacing Trelawney in Divination. Dumbledore removed me from her class as a precaution.”

“Well, it isn’t like you were learning anything in Trelawney’s class anyway,” Draco drawled. “All she did every year was predict your death in a variety of vicious ways.”

“Three-hundred twenty-four ways and counting,” Harry muttered. He dropped down  in a chair in front of Draco and frowned at the fire as Remus and Sirius settled in as well. “Riddle was using the snake to hurt students—and finally to guard Ginny’s body once he got her down there. I regretted having to kill him—he was ancient and really had done nothing more than follow his instincts. It’s just one more thing that pisses me off about Voldemort. He has no respect for the sanctity of life.”

“Do you have it in you to kill, Harry?” Draco questioned. “Because that’s the way this ends. It’s the only way it will end.”

“I’m not sure I can use an Unforgiveable but there are other curses and hexes that are just as dangerous that aren’t considered Dark. I’ll learn them all and I can only hope that it will be enough.” He paused and took a breath. “As for being able to kill, I already have. In my first year, I killed Professor Quirrel while he was possessed. It wasn’t… I didn’t mean to but I did it all the same.”

Draco frowned and looked away. “It hurts to cast an Unforgiveable—not physically. It’s not the kind of pain you can take a potion to get rid of. It’s an emotional bloodletting that just festers in you for weeks. I think people who do it regularly must go insane because of that pain.”

“When did you… what did you…” Harry took a deep breath. “Draco.”

“I had a crup as a child—he was intensely loyal to me and I loved him fiercely. They are hardy animals—not prone to illness and normally have no problems recovering from injury. One of my father’s friends tortured him with the Cruciatus Curse until he could barely move. When I was finally able to rescue him—he didn’t even recognize me. I took him and hid him in a room in my wing and kept him there for days before my Father found him and realized that he was quite insane.”

Sirius swore under his breath. “How old were you?”

“Eleven. It was shortly before I went for my first year at Hogwarts. My father said I had to take care of Mars because he was my responsibility. It was my duty to end his suffering.” Draco took a deep breath. “I agreed and I said I would owl Severus and get a potion to make him go to sleep and never wake up.”

“But Lucius didn’t agree?” Remus questioned.

“No, he said a proper Death Eater doesn’t hide from killing and his son would be nothing less than proper. My mother begged him not to make me do it. She said I was too young for it. He was terrible to her for her interference. He yelled at her that he would no longer tolerate her coddling me. That the Dark Lord would return and that the Malfoy Family would be at his side. That meant his only son would not be a disappointment.” Draco took a deep breath. “So I did but the first time I tried it was… weak and it didn’t do much but hurt him. I got so angry then—furious with my father and his stupid friend for what he’d done. I cast it again and Mars… died. Just like that.” Draco rubbed his chest. “It was agonizing. The moment the words left my mouth I stopped being angry. My mother had to carry me from the room. I couldn’t even… I didn’t move for three days without help.”

“Merlin,” Sirius snapped.

“A week later I was in Diagon Ally buying school supplies and I saw someone that made me realize that I was never going to be what my father wanted.” Draco’s gaze shifted to Harry briefly and then he focused on the fire. “I didn’t have it in me to be a proper Death Eater.”

* * * *

Albus,

 

I’ve inspected the wards at Potter Manor and provided several additional protections. It is unplottable and the Secret Keeper for the property has a mind like a dragon guarded vault. It is a nice property and it’s been properly maintained.

 

Harry is quite safe.

 

Sincerely,

William Weasley

 

* * * *

Mr. Potter,

 

As you’ve been removed from Divination, I’ve taken the opportunity to enroll you in Ancient Runes. I passed a list of books you would need for the course to your Dobby and he assured me that he would make sure you had what you need for the beginning of the school year.

 

The tower has been altered slightly and an additional floor has been added to house you separately from your classmates. I realize this may not be what you want but your station requires it of us due to the school charter. I’ve arranged a small second bedroom in the suite for Dobby. He has furnished the rooms and set it up with your school supplies. You’ll be on the very top of the Gryffindor tower.

 

I do hope my letter finds you well and that you aren’t unduly upset that I used Dobby to deliver this missive. I look forward to seeing you on September 1^st.

 

Professor Minerva McGonnagall

Deputy Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The Order of Merlin

Harry frowned briefly and then set aside the letter. “Professor McGonnagall has the Order of Merlin?”

“Yes, she received it due to her actions during the first war with Voldemort,” Remus murmured. “She is a talented and fierce dueler—though to my knowledge she has never cast an Unforgiveable even when the Ministry gave temporary permission shortly before…”

Harry nodded. “Right.” He was silent for a few minutes and then nodded. “Obviously I need more training than Hogwarts can possibly give me. I need… military training but that doesn’t seem possible in the UK.”

“No, but there have been magical wars in other countries,” Remus said and leaned forward. “We could bring some people here for you to train with.”

“You could find them? Recruit them to help me as discreetly as possible?” Harry asked. “I think Dumbledore probably has plans for you already, though right?”

“His plans come secondary to you,” Remus assured. “I won’t ever trust him again where your welfare is concerned. He told me to leave—told me you’d be safe and I did. I left you and spent twelve years in Paris living in a room above my brother’s book store while you were starved and abused by your so-called family.”

“I don’t blame you,” Harry said. “I don’t blame either of you for what my Uncle Vernon did. I do blame the Headmaster for not checking on me—for not realizing how bad things were. It isn’t like it would have taken much to alter the wards so he would know when I was being hit. Bill did it for me in a few minutes. The first time my uncle lays into my aunt because I’m not around for him to hit—I’ll know.”

“Did he hit you a lot?” Draco asked.

“More often than not. It isn’t like he even needed an excuse.  I was blamed for everything that went wrong, no matter what it was. When I was nine, he wrecked the car on the way home from work because he thought he saw a wizard walking down the road. He came home and hit me until I passed out. I was in bed for a week.”

Draco’s jaw tightened. “You realize Voldemort uses stories like that about Muggles to justify killing them?”

“Killing him has appeal,” Sirius admitted and then shrugged when Harry glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that, pup. He’s a vicious creature and sometimes vicious creatures have to be put down to protect the public.”

Harry sighed. “I know he’s horrible but I can’t imagine being so angry that I would put myself on his level. That’s not the kind of man my mother would have wanted me to be.” He played with the seam of his slacks for a few minutes and sighed. “Why does Snape hate my father so much?”

Draco sucked in a breath and Sirius groaned a little.

“Pup,” Remus started with a sigh. “Your father saved Snape’s life while we were in school and he ended the friendship Severus had with Lily. They’d been friends since before Hogwarts. He made her choose between them—Severus made her choose and her choice made him furious.”

“How did my Dad save Snape’s life?”

Sirius blushed furiously and rubbed his face with both hands. “I made a foolish, stupid, dangerous, and vicious mistake that I’ve lived with for a very long time. I used my best friend and a condition he can’t control to get back at a boy who… dumped me.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Sirius, what did you do?”

“I talked Severus into meeting me outside during a full moon and set Remus loose on him because I was hurt and furious. If James hadn’t interfered, Severus would have been killed or at the very least been turned into a werewolf,” Sirius murmured. “There is no excuse for what I did and I tried many times in the years that passed to apologize to Severus but as you know we can’t even be in the same room without coming to near blows.”

“So, not exactly unresolved sexual tension,” Draco muttered and then offered a small smile at the gagging sound Harry made. Then he grew serious. “Severus is lonely and his position with Voldemort will only grow more dangerous as the days pass. I know he’s spying for Dumbledore.”

“How do you know that?” Remus demanded.

Draco didn’t roll his eyes but it was a near thing. “Because I know the man. He’s my godfather and one of the few people in my life who has ever been gentle with me. He’s no Death Eater – I know what a Death Eater looks and acts like after all. Besides he has very few of the taints of someone who regular uses the darker arts.”

“Taints?” Harry questioned.

“People who practice severely dark rituals… it taints their magical aura, Harry.” Draco frowned at him briefly. “Your educational situation has to be corrected if we’re going to be seen in public together as friends, Potter. Being pretty and extremely wealthy will only get you so far.”

Harry blushed furiously and averted his gaze when Remus and Sirius laughed. “I should send Mrs. Weasley an owl to let her know that I’m safe.” He stood up abruptly and went to his desk. “You wankers can go find somewhere else to chat.”

* * * *

“I’m proud of you for admitting what you did,” Remus murmured. “I know you didn’t want to.”

Sirius drew deeply on the cigar that he’d had one of the elves hunt down for him. “I can’t… I didn’t want to be diminished in his eyes, Remus. I have so much to make up for.”

“Harry values honesty,” Remus reminded. “It’s something that Dumbledore is going to have to get his head around if he wants the Boy Who Lived’s support in the years to come.”

Chapter Seven

THE MINISTRY FOR MAGIC REVEALS LONG HIDDEN PROPHECY. BOY WHO LIVED HAS BEEN CHOSEN TO END YOU-KNOW-WHO’S REIGN OF TERROR!

“Bloody goddamned hell!” Sirius shouted as he tossed the Daily Prophet across the table at Remus. He watched his best friend absorb the news headline, growing increasingly pale. “Why the fuck would they…I’ll kill Fudge for this.”

“It’s surprising that the prophecy was hidden so long,” Remus murmured. “We should contact Albus.”

Harry appeared in the large airy room they’d been using for meals with Draco at his side. A copy of the Daily Prophet was clutched in his hand. Dark green eyes flashing he said, “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…” He put the paper down on the table. “This is why he murdered my parents? This stupid fucking prophecy from the mouth of the biggest nutter in Great Britain?”

“She wasn’t the only one to make it,” Remus murmured. “We’ve since learned that a dverger seer foretold almost the same thing in the year before you were born.”

Harry’s jaws tightened and he took a deep breath. “Why wasn’t I told?” He held up a hand. “No, it’s okay. I know why I wasn’t told.” He inclined his head and said, “Willaby.” The Head Elf for the household appeared in an instant. “Go and bring me Albus Dumbledore. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Dumbledore appeared, carefully holding Willaby’s hand a minute later. He held out a small glass orb. “This will, I believe, answer your questions, my boy.”

Harry took it and the orb lit in his hand with a soft blue light and then that light poured out in front of him in the form of his father. “Dad.”

“Harry.”  James Potter reached out briefly and sighed. “When I made this I knew it would only be used if I were dead… it didn’t occur to me how much it would hurt not to touch you.” He looked around the room and smiled for Sirius and Remus. “I’m glad he has you. Or at least I’m pretty sure I’d be glad. I hope you two are helping him get into more trouble than he can handle.”

“Never, James,” Sirius shook his head with a sad smile. “Not your precious boy.”

James smiled and refocused on Harry. “You may be wondering why it’s just me and not your mother? She refused to participate as this is technically a Dark Art. It’s not unlike a living painting but Soul Orbs are precariously close to a Horcrux so they are a Dark Art. Don’t worry, son, you aren’t holding a piece of my soul in your hand. It’s just a very intricate copy of me a few weeks before your first birthday. Far more advanced than if I were a portrait. You’ve been given the Soul Orb because you’ve found out about the prophecy and if you have an ounce of my temper—you’re probably livid that it was kept from you.”

“You could say that,” Harry admitted softly.

“I made Albus swear a Wizard’s Oath that he would not reveal the prophecy to you before you were sixteen unless the war with Voldemort grew worse before then. It’s too much for you, son, to have to deal with and I wanted you to have a normal life as much as possible.”

“Has he told you what’s happened to me since I came to Hogwarts?”

“No, you’re the only person alive who can activate the Soul Orb, Harry.” James looked him over and then focused on Draco. “Well, that’s a Malfoy if I ever saw one. Easily the prettiest blokes in all of Wizarding Europe.”

Harry chuckled. “This is Lord Draco Malfoy.”

Draco blushed furiously and glared at Sirius when he laughed before focusing on James again. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Potter.”

“Hmmm, the pleasure is mine Lord Malfoy.” James grinned and then focused on Harry. “You do realize that the Potters and the Malfoys have been engaged in a blood feud for two hundred years?”

“Yes, well, I think I sort of called a truce—what with all of the kissing and groping,” Harry smirked when James laughed. “Besides he’s my Liegeman.”

James eyes widened and he looked at Dumbledore who appeared completely floored. “Good on you, lad, that’s the first time I’ve seen Albus shocked in all the time that I’ve known him.” He laughed as the older wizard fussed with his robes. “How old are you?”

“I turned 15 a few weeks ago,” Harry admitted.

“You’ve taken the title, I see. I would have liked you to have waited until you were seventeen—it’s a lot of responsibility and pressure to have that much ancestral magic pressed down on you.”

“I’ll need the strength if I’m to fight Voldemort,” Harry snapped shortly and then blushed at the raised eyebrow he got from his father. “Sorry.”

“No need, lad, you’re the Lord of the Manor after all.” James shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why don’t you take me somewhere private. I’d like to speak with just my son.” He flowed into the orb without another word and Harry brought it close to his chest.

He turned to Albus. “I want you to swear on your magic that this is not some kind of trick—that my Dad really made this for me.”

Albus carefully pulled his wand and placed the tip over his heart. “On my magic, I solemnly swear that the Soul Orb you hold in your hand was created by James Potter to only be activated by his son Harry James Potter in the event of his death. So mote it be.”

Harry nodded and with a brief touch on Draco’s arm left the room.

Draco watched the departure with a frown and then with a little glare towards Dumbledore joined Sirius and Remus at the table for a meal. “You could join us for a meal and explain how Fudge got a hold of the prophecy and what you plan to do about it? He just painted a target on Potter’s back for every so-called Death Eater on the planet.”

* * * *

“Then Dumbledore sent me back to the Dursleys,” Harry murmured and winced at the curse that James let go with. “I know but with the blood wards in place it was probably the safest place I could go at the time. I didn’t have access to the manor because I hadn’t claimed the title.”

“Right.” James frowned. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get your mother do to this with me but she always had definite ideas about what was appropriate and what wasn’t.”

“One of my best friends is like that, Muggle-born and easily the brightest witch of our generation. Everyone expects her to break the records for NEWT scores when she takes them.” Harry turned and looked at his father. “I see why a Soul Orb is considered a Dark Artifact. If I could… I would spend days, months talking to you. I could see myself forsaking everyone in my life for it.”

“I won’t let you.”

“You aren’t the only one who’d have a problem with it,” Harry admitted. “I suppose I should go see what my Dragon is up to. There is no telling with Sirius and Remus for company. Does time pass for you in the orb?”

“No.” James reached out and the soft light he was made of bent as he touched Harry’s face. “Not at all, son. Take me to Sirius and Remus for a while. I want to speak with them and then you can retrieve the orb and put me somewhere safe until you need me. I caution you, Harry, against activating the orb often. It isn’t like a portrait, don’t treat it like one.”

* * * *

He found Sirius and Remus in the library with Draco arguing over who to bring to the manor for dueling. He watched them for a moment—amused by their good-natured arguing and quite enthralled with the look of Draco. Remus noticed him first and motioned him in.

“Have a good talk with your Dad?”

“Yes,” Harry murmured and he set the orb down carefully. His fingers brushed over it and James appeared. “He wanted to spend some time with you before I put the orb away.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up. “James.”

“Padfoot,” James murmured and watched as Harry offered Draco a hand and the two left the room silently. “I bet that little romance is going to break hearts from here to London.”

Remus snorted. “They both have quite a following—Harry the Boy Who Lived and Draco the son of a reformed Death Eater who sacrificed himself for the Boy Who Lived. The papers have had a field day with them most of the summer in one manner or another.”

James nodded, thoughtful and sad. “The Boy Who Lived.” He sighed. “Lily would be horrified.”

“I know,” Sirius said. “For more than one reason. I don’t even have the words to apologize…”

“No, Padfoot, Harry doesn’t blame you and I can’t either. He loves you very much—thinks of you like a father.” James’ youthful face darkened briefly and then he sighed. “I could hate you for that but that isn’t your fault either.”

* * * *

Harry washed his face with the cloth Draco had passed his way. “I don’t… my Dad respected Dumbledore a lot even when he was being a nutter.”

Draco laughed. “He is a powerful and dynamic wizard, Harry. Albus Dumbledore defeated a Dark Lord and with that kind of feat comes power and respect and love. You blame him for your miserable childhood and that is your right.”

“Right,” Harry repeated. “Fudge obviously wants me dead, you were right about that.”

Draco frowned. “I didn’t… I’d heard rumors about a prophecy, of course but I had no idea what it was about. I know that my Dad talked about it occasionally.” He leaned in the doorway of the bathroom. “But I got the feeling he was talking about it like it had already came true.”

“Because I lived and Voldemort was killed, at least briefly.” Harry touched his scar. “I need to make an appointment with Mr. Riser. Aren’t there laws about prophecies? Can Fudge just release something like that to the public without asking me?”

Draco shook his head abruptly. “Actually, no, he can’t. Prophecies concerning individuals are supposed to be private.”

“Good.” Harry glared at the mirror and snorted when it blithely told him that he looked quite angry. “This is not me, angry, sweetheart—this is me mildly irritated.”

“Gorgeous,” Draco murmured and laughed when Harry blushed. He held out a hand which Harry took quickly. He tugged him gently into the bedroom. “Let’s pretend we don’t have anything better than to do than make out.”

Harry quirked one eyebrow and let Draco drag him onto the bed. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?”

“No one remotely sane,” Draco returned dryly as he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. He cupped the back of his head and pulled him in gently—giving him time to change his mind or disagree.

Harry moaned softly against Draco’s mouth and they sank into each other. By the time they broke for air, Harry was settled between Draco’s legs. He laughed softly. “I…”

Draco took a deep breath. “Hey, Potter.”

“Hey, Malfoy.” Harry shifted slightly and watched Draco’s eyes widen and blur with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. The amount of clothes between them seemed inconsequential at that moment—the heat of Malfoy’s erection was burning against his and he shivered. “This is… is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Draco murmured, breathless as he shifted his legs and cradled Harry between them. “Good. It’s very good.”

“Good.” Harry pressed his mouth against Draco’s again and the blond fisted one hand in his hair as they started to move. Each little shift and thrust brought them both closer. He lifted his mouth and they shuddered together—breath mingling as they sought release. “Merlin, Draco.”

“I can’t believe…” Draco broke off and arched under Harry with a soft breathless moan. “So close, Harry.”

“I know.” Harry buried his face against Draco’s neck and ran one hand down his side to slide it under the blonde’s ass. Their movements became harder and faster in the seconds that followed until Malfoy made a choked sound and thrust up hard against him. Harry moaned and pressed an open mouth kiss against Draco’s neck and came.

“Merlin.” Draco relaxed on the bed and laughed softly. “I hope the rest of the house isn’t shaking like this bed is.”

Harry blushed furiously and reached out blindly for his magic, pulling it back into him with a huff. “I can’t believe…thank fuck that doesn’t happen when I…” He rolled off Malfoy and threw one arm over his face. “Just imagine how much damage Gryffindor tower would have suffered over the last two years.”

Draco grinned and turned his head so he could see him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I think under the circumstances—you can ask me anything you’d like.” He rubbed his stomach to ease the sudden case of nerves.

“Are you… have you ever been with someone?”

“No. I mean,” Harry took a deep breath. “Well, not exactly.”

“That answer doesn’t… make any sense at all, Potter.” Draco huffed and glared at his friend with icy grey eyes.

Harry rolled onto his side and propped his head so he could look at Draco without straining his neck. “When you put on the Malfoy ring, what did it give you?”

Draco frowned. “Knowledge of all of the Malfoy properties, wards, connections to all of the house elves that had pledged themselves to my House, and a profound urge to pick up the Family grimoire. I spent two weeks reading it. I found that I retained every single word. After I finished reading it—I was able to concentrate on other things and start going through the Family business holdings.”

“Right.” Harry took a deep breath. “My ring.” He looked down at the ring in question and used his thumb to twist it on his finger. “Gave me all of that, too. Though I’d already read the majority of the family grimoire by the time I put on the ring. In the week that followed, when I was bombarded daily by the Family magic and I started to realize I knew family secrets—things that hadn’t been recorded in the grimoire. Then I started to remember events from my father’s life, my grandfather—important events.”

“Like?”

“Like my parents wedding, my own birth. Thank Merlin, my father never put sex memories in the ring but some of my other ancestors weren’t so discreet.” Harry blushed when Draco laughed. “Have you ever used a pensive?”

Draco nodded. “Only with my father. I have one in my office at the manor. I’m sure you’ve got one around here.”

Harry sighed. “Right, it’s in my office in a locked cabinet. There are memories in the cabinet. The grimoire told me. Memories that were added to the ring and some that weren’t.”

“So, you haven’t had sex with another person but you have memories of sex.”

“Right,” Harry nodded and sighed. “The ring has proven to be very educational beyond the sex. Each of the men in my family who wore it before me also seemed to imbue it with their understandings of different magical subjects like ancient runes and transfiguration. My father was a genius at transfiguration. I spent a few nights dreaming through his memories on the subject. It’s very odd.”

“Do the memories always come in dreams?”

“No. Sometimes the ring urges me and gives me flashes of intuition about how I should act in a certain situation. It’s not sentient like Mehen.” He touched the snake still coiled on his wrist and then groaned. “I can’t believe we just did what we did with him right here.”

Draco glanced at the snake that he’d only seen once before in his life before his mother had given it to Harry. “I supposed he’s been around long enough that two teenagers rubbing off together isn’t too shocking.”

Harry bit down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Did it bother you when your mother gave him to me?”

“No.” Draco shook his head. “Owning Mehen is a calling I think and very few people deserve to have something so pure and magical in their life.” He reached out and touched the little snake and Mehen uncoiled slowly and wrapped himself around Draco’s fingers in a little hug. “He was meant for you, I think.” He grinned when the little snake hissed and returned to Harry’s wrist.

* * * *

Harry dropped down in front of his desk with the small book that he’d found in the library about the rules of the Wizengamot and frowned deeply as the Headmaster appeared in a flash of phoenix flame. Apparently being kidnapped by Willaby and brought to the property had given Dumbledore some tacit permission to drop in whenever he bloody well felt like it.

“I see you received your summons.” Albus sat down in the large wing backed chair in front of the desk and arranged himself carefully.

Harry sighed. “Tea, Professor?”

“That would be lovely, Harry.” Albus smiled and his eyes twinkled so brightly that Harry had to swallow hard not to snort.

“Franky.” The little elf appeared immediately on his right and offered him a bright eyed smile.

“Yes, Master Harry Potter!”

Harry couldn’t help but grin at him. He was the youngest of the Potter elves and had been the last elf to pledge himself to the Family prior to James Potter’s death. “Please arrange tea for the Headmaster. Bring some of those lemon biscuits, I believe he’ll like those best.”

“Right away!” Franky popped away with an audible pop that had first surprised Harry but Dobby had informed him that elves learned over time to do it silently and that Franky was doing quite well for being just 30 years old. The elf returned quickly with the tea pot and a small table that appeared in place beside the headmaster.

“Oh.” Albus reached out for one of the biscuits. “Your mother used to bring these to me sometimes… lovely. She liked lemon, too. One of the few students I’ve ever had that I actually had to fill up my candy bowl after she visited.”

Harry smiled at that, not really surprised because his father had told him about his mother’s affection for all things lemon. “Is there something you wanted to talk about, sir?”

“Yes, you’ll claim your seats in the Wizengamot next week and I’m aware that you will act in Sirius’ place as well. With that much power at your disposal, you’ll have the eyes of many throughout the proceedings. The rules of the court are rather simple and I’m sure the book you’ve pulled will educate on the proper decorum.” Albus started to prepare his tea as he continued. “Did you have any questions for me about the process?”

“If I don’t attend every session, will my seat come into question?”

“No, we must have two-thirds of the available seats filled in order to conduct business but it is rare that every chair is filled. Popular criminal trials often bring everyone out for the spectacle of it—as you might imagine.” He sighed. “And often when there are laws to be passed that are popular among the pure bloods, the court will fill up for those votes as well. You’ll find you’ll be courted for your votes on certain measures and as you grow into your position—you’ll gather like minds around you among your peers that will help you pass legislation you favor. It is the nature of such organizations.”

Harry nodded. “Voting blocks, you mean. If I can gather a strong enough voting bloc—I’ll be able to temper the Ministry of Magic’s stupidity.”

Albus grinned. “Exactly so, my boy.”

“What do I do about Fudge and the prophecy?”

“I don’t know,” Albus admitted. “It is a strange situation, Harry. No one but you and Voldemort should’ve been able to access the prophecy. Since I was there when it was done and Sybil doesn’t actually remember giving it—I’m at a loss as to who would have released it to the public.”

“You didn’t.”

“No, if you wish—I’ll swear a wizard’s oath.”

“Not necessary,” Harry said and held out a hand when the older wizard had reached for his wand. “I trust that you wouldn’t put me at risk in such a way, Professor. Tell me about… how did I become a target when I was little?”

“Someone overheard the first part of the prophecy,” Albus admitted. “A young Death Eater who had no way of knowing who would be the target of Tom’s ire once he heard the words. Once he knew… he tried to do the right thing by coming to me. That’s why your parents went into hiding in the first place.”

Harry cleared his throat. “It was Snape.”

“How…” Albus sighed. “Yes, it was Severus. How did you guess?”

“Sometimes he looks at me like he hates me,” Harry murmured. “And sometimes he looks at me like he’ll never do enough to atone for something. Additionally, I don’t believe the hostility between him and Sirius could solely be because of the night Remus almost bit Snape. It would have been enough but Snape is a Slytherin and he, above most, would understand how angry pain can make someone. I can’t see him not forgiving Sirius for what happened, especially since my Dad stepped in unless things escalated further. I knew that he took the Dark Mark eventually—that means that things escalated beyond their control.”

Albus sighed. “It’s a harsh thing what heart break will do to lives of so many, Harry. I do hope you understand that—the true power of love and the hate that can take its place in the passage of time.”

“I do.” Harry looked down at his desk. “I grew up surrounded by hate. I know it wasn’t your intention but that was my circumstances. Vernon Dursley hated me for existing—for being a living example that there were things outside of his control. Muggles like him fear and hate magic because it can’t be controlled or understood by their methods.”

“It’s good that you understand his perspective.”

“Perhaps,” Harry agreed. “At least it will prevent me from making his mistakes. Learning from just my own mistakes won’t be enough if I’m to survive.” He paused and cleared his throat. “That is on your agenda, right? My survival? Because, I have to tell you, sir, I don’t feel like it has been in the past.”

Albus paled dramatically and set aside his tea. “Harry.”

“Tell me honestly, could you have gotten me out of the Tri-Wizard Tournament?”

Albus looked down at his hands and nodded. “I could have but it would have required cancelling the entire thing and the Ministry had invested a great deal of money in the event. Crouch and Fudge were understandably unwilling to go that route and they felt it wasn’t so dangerous that you could not survive it. After you did so well in the first task, they were even less willing to listen to me about ending the tournament. I would do anything to undo what was done that night, Harry.”

“Perhaps it’s best that it happened when it did. Instead of worrying how and when Tom Riddle will return—we only have to worry about ending him in such a way that he never has the chance to return again.” Harry rubbed his thumb along the spine of the book on the desk in front of him. “How goes the hunt for the Horcruxes?”

“Bill and Charlie Weasley are leading a research and retrieval team for the items. I’m giving them all the information they need and things are going as well as we can expect. We’ve retrieved one and it is being kept in a vault at Gringotts. Ragnok is helping us explore avenues for destruction.”

“The basilisk fang worked well for the diary,” Harry said dryly and grinned when the Headmaster smiled. “That’s a little dramatic though. Can I help?”

“I’d rather not expose you to the objects unless we find we have no choice,” Albus murmured. “You were able to destroy the diary but we can’t be sure you still can now that your curse scar has been healed.”

“Right.” Harry nodded. “That is something to consider. The soul fragment in the diary didn’t have anywhere to go in the chamber because I already had a piece… unless it did join the piece I already had in my head. I have no way of knowing otherwise.” He touched his scar and then looked away from the headmaster in an effort to gather his thoughts. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked about that night.”

“I viewed Severus’ memory of the event in my pensive,” Albus admitted softly. “I’m sorry that you had to go through such a thing.”

“I don’t remember much after Sirius arrived,” Harry admitted. “It’s all hazy and indistinct like a dream of a dream if that makes any kind of sense. I’m glad I don’t remember it.”

“So am I, my boy.” Albus reached out and plucked the rest of the lemon biscuits off the small plate with a little blush. “I’ll be going. Will you need my assistance getting to court next week or will Bill Weasley handle your travel?”

“I’ve already informed Bill that I will need him,” Harry admitted. “He said he would be available to take me. I may need your help afterward, I doubt Minister Fudge will let the opportunity to corner me pass by.”

“No, agreed.”

* * * *

Harry let his fingers drift over the smooth, glossy surface of the soul orb and sat back with his bottle of butter beer when his father flowed out of it like a genie out of a bottle. “I sort of had sex with Draco.”

James blinked in surprise. “Well, that’s not the kind of thing I anticipated talking about when I made this.” He shoved his hands into his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “Aren’t you a little young for that?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It wasn’t sex, per say but it was far more intimate than I’ve ever been with anyone.” He blushed and averted his gaze. “And it’s pretty much all I think about now.”

“Not surprising,” James pursed his lips. “I was 15, too.”

“If this involves my mother…”

James laughed. “No, actually. It was a shop girl working in Diagon Ally during the summer before my fifth year. She was a pretty witch—she’d been at Hogwarts but graduated my third year. Your mother hated her quite a lot when she found out. I don’t know how she found out but girls talk about things when you expect they wouldn’t.” He made a show of sitting in the chair in front of Harry and they both shared the same grin over the feat. “So, are you interested in witches at all?”

“I thought so but…” He waved his bottle briefly as if that would explain it. “Not so much any anymore. I just think about him and that’s stupid because I was pretty sure I hated his guts. I mean all we’ve done since we met is argue and try to hex each other. He was a complete prat to me and up until recently I would have much rather punched him in the face than do just about anything else. Now, I want to crawl on top of him and just…” Harry trailed off and sighed. “That’s probably crossing some line but let’s just say that punching him isn’t on my agenda anymore.”

James chuckled. “Well, Potter’s have always liked a challenge that’s for certain. Your mother drove me to distraction and most of the time I didn’t know whether I was coming or going when it came to her. When she finally agreed to go out with me, I was so relieved I damn near fainted. Sirius and Remus were horrible to me over it but I didn’t care. She was pretty much all I’d ever wanted since the moment I met her and I couldn’t imagine how I was going to get through life without her. It was a good thing she took pity on me.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Do you… did the two of you regret having me?”

James stared at him in silence for a few seconds. “Harry.”

“It’s okay if you did—if you’d waited until you were older or whatever—then Voldemort wouldn’t have killed you to get to me.”

“Harry,” James sighed. “Do you believe in destiny?”

“I wish I didn’t.”

He laughed. “Your mother said the same thing to me once. We wanted you so much and when you were born—it was the best thing that ever happened to us. Even after Albus told us the prophecy. Alice and Frank Longbottom were sitting in his office with us. I remember Lily taking a deep breath and closing her eyes because we both knew the prophecy was about you.”

“It could have been Neville.”

James shook his head. “Neville was a bright baby but Harry—we could feel the magic in you practically from the moment you were born. You were summoning your toys by the time you were five months old. The Healer suggested we put a block on your magic to keep you safe but Lily refused—she refused because she thought if we put a block on you that you might not be strong enough to survive whatever Voldemort had planned to do to you.”

“The night it happened… how did I survive?”

“I don’t remember, son.” James grimaced. “This orb was created before that night happened. I know your mother had plans to do a protective ritual she’d read about and but she was nervous about it because it was going to require blood—yours, hers, and her sisters. I don’t know how she retrieved Petunia’s blood but we were ready to do the ritual shortly before I made the orb. In fact, I was able to make this orb because your mother was so distracted preparing for the ritual that she didn’t notice what I was up to until it was too late. She was furious, of course.”

“I bet.” Harry frowned and stared at his butter beer. “I remember it. I remember hearing  a fight downstairs and him killing mum. Then there was a green light. The next thing I remember is flying. Hagrid brought me to Petunia’s house on Sirius’ bike. I had dreams about flying for years after that. But I didn’t remember him killing you and mum until my third year when I was exposed to a Dementor for the first time.”

* * * *

“Lord Harry James Potter, House of Potter and Heir Regent to the House of Black.” Harry watched the other members of the Wizengamot adjust to the fact that he currently had his own vote and Sirius Black’s proxy. He took his seat and his gaze met Draco’s from across the room. Draco inclined his head as Harry activated the two Seals of Judgment he’d been presented with as he’d entered the room.

The Wizengamot met quarterly to handle serious cases that the lower courts couldn’t legally pass judgment on like murder, major thefts, land disputes involving Nobles, and oddly enough Muggle abuse. He’d voted with the other members all morning—mostly because they hadn’t done anything stupid as he understood it. The fifth case of the morning was a man accused of murdering his son.

Harry had read through the Healer’s report with shaking hands, aware that more than one person in the room was watching him. Dumbledore was in place and Draco looked sick with disgust. Most of the wizards on the court were simply too horrified to ask any questions. The silence was deafening.

He tapped his wand and Dumbledore’s gaze settled on him with sadness and resignation mixed. Harry figured the man didn’t want to ask questions either.

“Lord Potter, you have the floor.”

“Mr. Wells-Abbey, it is your testimony that you never struck the child without cause.”

The man fidgeted under the weight of the Boy Who Lived’s gaze. “He was a problem child.”

“And you, a wizard of forty years found yourself unable to control an eleven year old child to such a degree that your only recourse was physical abuse?”

“I did not abuse my son!”

“He’s dead, Mr. Wells-Abbey, cursed to death by your own hand. If that does not fit your definition of abuse, I would find myself quite afraid of how you would define it.” His gaze narrowed. “And you’ll find that I don’t fear much of anything.”

Bodies shifted in the quiet of the courtroom as that small and rather undeniable fact settled around them.

“I am…” The man trailed off.

“What you are, Mr. Wells-Abbey is a coward, and as foul as any man to have ever worn the Dark Mark. You preyed on a helpless child, your own helpless child,” Harry responded, evenly. His tone was mild and as smooth as silk. He flipped through the papers in front of him. “You were tested for all manner of curses and found to be in perfect health an hour following the event. In fact, the mediwitch who examined you for the DMLE commented that you didn’t even appear to be mentally agitated to learn that you had in fact killed your child. While your wife had to be restrained and eventually sedated.”

“Simone is prone to hysterics but even she admits that the child’s death was an accident. He was being punished and it got out of hand.”

The Wizarding photos of the scene were rather disturbing. The boy’s body was twisted an unnatural angle.

Draco tapped his wand and Harry slumped briefly in relief.

“Lord Malfoy, you have the floor.”

“Mr. Wells-Abbey, you admit that you punished your child with a curse and due to his previously undocumented heart condition he died.”

“Yes.”

“The DMLE was unable to determine what curse you used because your wand was used by your wife in an effort to heal the child as he lay dying.” Draco slowly lowered his own wand to the desk in front of him. “Tell me, Mr. Wells-Abbey, what made you use the incarcerous curse on Joshua?”

The man flinched at the use of his son’s name. “He ran.”

“From you?” Draco questioned. “Why on Earth would he have run from you? His own father?”

The man lurched and Harry knew he was fighting the Veritaserum he’d been given before the court process had begun. “Because I hexed him.”

“With what?”

“Reductor curse,” Wells-Abbey spat and lurched against the magical chains.

Draco leaned forward and inclined his head. “Mr. Wells-Abbey, did you visit a shop in Nocturn Ally called The Snake’s Nest?”

The man hissed and screamed at Draco. “Blood Traitor!” He jerked at the chains. “Yes. Yes. Damn you.”

“Let the record show that The Snake’s Nest is a shop in Nocturn Ally that specializes in testing children to see which House they will be sorted in at Hogwarts.”

Harry tapped his wand. Dumbledore leaned forward. “You have the floor, Lord Potter.”

“Mr. Wells-Abbey, what House were you a part of when you attended Hogwarts?” Harry lowered his wand at Dumbledore’s discreet cough and let it sit harmless on the surface in front of him.

“Slytherin.”

“What House was Joshua predicted to be sorted into Mr. Wells-Abbey?” Harry questioned and frowned when the man gagged in his effort not to respond.

“Gryffindor,” the man hissed.

“You caused your child to go into cardiac arrest due to suffocation because of the House he would be sorted in?” Dumbledore demanded. “Are you insane?”

“His weakness was a threat to my entire family,” Wells-Abbey hissed.

Harry was numb throughout the rest of the process, horrified that children he went to school with could be condemned by their own parents just because a magical hat decided what house they belonged in. When it came time to vote—no one in the room hesitated to vote guilty.

“The court acknowledges Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy.”

Harry straightened up as Narcissa swept into the room with a pair of lawyers, a dverger, and a metal box.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot,” Narcissa began and offered them a beautiful smile. Most of the wizards in the room shifted in their chairs and Harry fought back a laugh. “May I present Director Ragnok, Chief of the dverger court. Ragnok has been so kind as to help me with a family matter.” She carelessly tossed the metal box into the center of the room and flicked her wand at it. The cage magically expanded and a small rat inside it was forced into its human form. “Peter ‘Wormtail’ Pettigrew. Most of you may remember him as the so-called victim of my cousin Lord Sirius Black. While others might have heard in the certified testimony of Lord Harry James Potter that he recently helped the Dark Lord, Voldemort return.”

Dumbledore leaned forward and frowned at Peter. “I am most disappointed in you, Mr. Pettigrew.” He sat back, eyes twinkling. “Narcissa, may I be the first to congratulate you on the construction of a better mouse trap.”

Narcissa inclined her head and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Ragnok will provide you with Mr. Pettigrew’s certified testimony proving my dear cousin, Lord Sirius Black, was imprisoned unjustly and therefore must be declared innocent.”

Fudge, who sat second tier in the court with 15 other people from the Ministry, tapped his wand.

Dumbledore frowned. “Minister Fudge, you have the floor.”

“Since Sirius Black escaped prison has committed many other crimes since that escape, Mrs. Malfoy. He is not an innocent man!” Fudge spat.

“I would caution you, Minister Fudge, against slandering my cousin’s good name,” Narcissa began. “My solicitor has already prepared a lawsuit against the Ministry for the wrongful imprisonment of Lord Sirius Black. That he was put in prison without a trial is complete a miscarriage of justice. If my cousin does not receive justice today. I will file this lawsuit on his behalf.”

“Are you blackmailing the Ministry of Magic?”

“Of course not, Minister, I am forewarning you of my intentions to sue you.” Narcissa arched one blond eyebrow when Fudge started to sputter. “Do be careful, Cornelius, you don’t want to hurt my feelings do you? It’s an election year.”

Harry laughed abruptly and sat up when she turned to look at him. He tapped his wand and Dumbledore gave him the floor. “I’m going to buy you diamonds. Lots of diamonds.”

Narcissa smiled and blushed prettily. “They are a witch’s best friend, my dear Lord Potter.”

“And a witch such as you deserves nothing less than her weight in them,” Harry said and offered her a gentle salute with his wand which half the men in the room repeated after him.

* * * *

Harry wasn’t surprised that he didn’t get out of the Ministry building without being prodded into Fudge’s office. He refused tea as they were seated and watched Draco make a show of getting settled. He was easily the snottiest wizard that Harry knew. He swallowed back a smirk as Draco leveled a cool-eyed stare at Fudge that would have made Lucius crow with delight.

“I wanted to apologize personally for the security failure that lead to the revelation of the prophecy related to you and the Dark Lord, Harry.”

Harry’s gaze narrowed. “My solicitor is researching my legal options, Minister Fudge. You do understand that an apology is hardly enough for making me a target for every living Death Eater.”

Dumbledore finished preparing his tea and swished his wand over the cup without apology. “Yes, it is very unfortunate about your mistake, Minister. Someone on your staff has put Harry at grave risk.”

Fudge fussed with his own tea and glared briefly at Dumbledore before glancing towards Malfoy, “I believe we’d best to discuss the situation of your future security without Lord Malfoy.”

Harry put his hand on Draco’s arm when the blond tensed in his place beside him on the couch. “I trust Draco with my life, Minister Fudge. That being said, I won’t be discussing my future security with you. It’s not your problem.”

“You are the Chosen One, Harry.”

“Lord Potter,” Harry snapped. “I have not given you leave to call me by my given name and do be careful about calling me anything so ridiculous as the chosen one to the press.” He stood abruptly. “Lord Malfoy, I believe we’re finished here.”

“Quite right, Lord Potter.” Draco stood. “We should go have lunch with your godfather. Throw him a party and get him some… entertainment. I could firecall my Uncle Leenus for recommendations.”

“We should.”

Chapter Eight

King’s Cross was packed with more people that Harry could ever remember seeing and it was obvious why as the first person caught sight of him. Dobby appeared in front of him in seconds and a shield spread out around him. The crowd was pushed back as the shield expanded and Harry was so relieved he didn’t even chastise Dobby for it. It wasn’t in his nature to be standoffish with people but he didn’t want any of them touching him.

Draco passed through the shield Dobby was projecting and grasped Harry’s elbow. “Ron and Hermione are already on the train. Mrs. Weasley is about to cut a path through these people for you. Just let them look.”

Harry nodded. He was a symbol to them—not a even a person, really. Even a month ago many of them would have avoided looking at him because of Fudge’s lies and now they wanted to look at the Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One who would save them. He wanted to ask why they didn’t have it in them to save themselves. Why were they waiting for a 15 year old boy to do it for them?

Five minutes later, Molly had them both on the train and Dobby tucked them into an empty compartment.

“Where is Elbe?”

“I sent him ahead to Hogwarts to make sure both of our chambers were up to par. I know Dobby set yours up but I didn’t know if he’d had a chance to make sure Hedwig was settled and I didn’t want Scorpious on the train so he took him as well.”

“Master Draco made Elbe a vassal like me,” Dobby whispered loudly.

Harry grinned. He knew that. Draco had snottily informed him that Elbe had been jealous of Dobby’s little wardrobe and especially his ability to legally perform charms and spells that he couldn’t so he’d had no bloody choice but to make the mean little elf his vassal. Harry thought it was kind of adorable but he wasn’t going to tell either one of them that.

Dobby took his and Draco’s robes and tucked them away in the expanded bag he’d brought with them and handed out their school robes quickly. They were dressed and presentable by the time the door to the small compartment slid open and Pansy Parkinson let herself in. She glared openly at Harry and then offered Draco a hesitant smile.

“What?” Draco demanded.

“We… you weren’t in our compartment. Blaise was worried so I said I’d come find you. I didn’t know you were babysitting Potter.” She shot Harry a snotty look and then sat down on the bench beside Draco. “Come sit with us—we’re talking about some of the things that happened over the summer and making plans.”

“You didn’t attend my father’s funeral, Pansy.” Draco looked out the window.

“You know we couldn’t risk…” She glanced at Harry. “Draco, please just come to our compartment and talk to us. I can’t say what I want to say in front of Scar Head.”

“Do not ever refer to him that way again,” Draco hissed. He grabbed her arm as he stood and hauled her to the door where he threw it open and pushed her abruptly into the hall. “Stay away from me, Parkinson. We have nothing to discuss. You can tell everyone else that skipped my father’s funeral and didn’t even bother to write to me that they aren’t welcome to speak to me either.” He shut the door in her face and threw himself back on the bench.

He glanced over at Harry and laughed abruptly when he saw that Dobby had scooted as close to Potter as he could. “I don’t bite, Dobby.”

Dobby snorted. “You do so! I remember!”

Draco flushed. “I was two!”

“Master Draco was bad baby!” Dobby waved his finger at him and Harry laughed.

“I just bet he was,” Harry said with a little sigh. He looked up and the door slid open again—this time to admit Dean, Seamus, and Neville.

All three were already in their school robes. Draco stood and moved to sit by him in a gracious maneuver that shocked all three of them into silence. They sat and stared until Dobby frowned at them then Neville grinned.

“Great robes, Dobby, and that was a neat shield you put up.”

“Is Dobby’s place,” Dobby muttered. “Makes sure Master Harry Potter has space.”

The door slid open abruptly and what looked like a first year scrambled inside. He pulled the door shut with a little hitch in his breath and then turned to face them. His mouth trembled and big tears slid down his face.

“Hey,” Harry frowned and reached out for him. “It’s okay. Come here.” The boy let Harry pull him forward and Dobby scooted so that he could put the kid up on the bench with him. “What’s going on?”

The boy’s breath hitched and he scrubbed at his face with both hands. “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Draco murmured and rummaged through his robes. He pulled out a chocolate frog and offered it to the kid. “I’m Draco and this is Harry, Dean, Seamus and Neville.”

The boy took the frog hesitantly and opened the package. “Thank you, Lord Malfoy.”

Draco inclined his head. “What’s your name?”

“Kevin Wesley.”

“So, what’s going on, Mr. Wesley?” Harry questioned.

“I told Timmy that I hoped I was… sorted into Slytherin.” His breath hitched. “And he told me I was gonna be a Death Eater if I did that. That I didn’t have a choice!”

Harry winced as the kid started to cry again. “Well, that wasn’t very kind of him.”

“That’s actually a quality of my house.” Draco grinned when the kid laughed. “So maybe he’ll get sorted to Slytherin.”

Kevin snorted and sneered. “He’s such a Hufflepuff.”

Harry laughed and ruffled the kid’s hair. “That’s a pretty good sneer kid, I imagine you’ll look great in green and silver.”

“It won’t make me evil,” Kevin muttered.

“No,” Harry agreed. “It won’t make you evil because evil isn’t simple at all, you know.”

Kevin nodded and looked Harry out of the corner of his eye. “Will you stop him?”

Harry blinked in surprise and carefully straightened Kevin’s collar and tie while he considered what to say. “One day, there will come a time when I will have the power and the training and the knowledge to stand up to Voldemort.” He paused when the kid flinched. “And when that day comes—I will stop him or I will die trying.”

“Is that destiny?” Kevin questioned softly, wide-eyed.

“No,” Draco responded and looked out the window. “That is conviction and courage. He’s a Gryffindor, Kevin, he can’t even help himself.”

* * * *

The Sorting was shorter than Harry ever remembered it being—only thirty-six new students. He wondered how many parents had sent their children abroad in an effort to keep them safe from Voldemort. He’d been a little disappointed on Kevin’s behalf when he’d been sorted into Gryffindor but the boy had smiled and tucked in against Harry’s side when he’d motioned him over. Kevin had leaned against him briefly and then straightened up to watch his frienemy Timmy sorted into Hufflepuff.

After the last first year was sorted, Dumbledore stood.

“Welcome everyone. I have a few announcements. As always, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden. Failure to adhere to the magical boundary placed around the forest could lead to your unfortunate demise and I would be very distressed to write such a letter to your parents.” The old wizard paused and looked around the room. “It has been many years since we’ve had Nobles here as students. Lord Draco Malfoy if you would stand.” He paused while Draco did so. “Lord Malfoy assumed his father’s title and all of the responsibilities therein over the summer. Lord Harry Potter.” Albus turned as Harry stood reluctantly. “Lord Potter assumed his father’s title and the weight of 15 generations of ancestral magic as he is the last of his line. Both of these young men have assumed the responsibilities as Peers of the Realm and have already sat for one session of the Wizengamot over the summer.  I trust that we will all make every effort to afford both of these young men time to settle into the roles they’ve taken for their Families.”

Dumbledore inclined his head and Harry gratefully sat down. Hermione patted his hand gently and he realized he was shaking.

“It is my duty to announce that Professor Trelawney has left us due to a unique opportunity abroad,” he paused and half-frowned at the whispered discussion that followed. “And we will have Professor Delores Umbridge teaching Divination this year. As you know, we were unable to retain Professor Lupin for Defense Against the Dark Arts due to a few foolish new regulations passed by the Ministry. However, Professor Lupin was able to help me find a very good replacement for him over the summer. Professor Wilhelm Stone is a member of the International Federation of Warlocks and is the most accomplished dueler of his generation. I believe in times such as these, we will find Professor Stone a welcome addition to Hogwarts.”

Harry figured he was right and he eyed the new professor with interest. The man inclined his head in Harry’s direction when he caught sight of the staring and Harry glanced over at Draco who was staring at the man, too. Professor Stone sounded like a dream come true and just the kind of person that Harry needed in his life.

* * * *

Harry had inspected his suite thoroughly, making sure that Dobby had made himself a comfortable bedroom first. He’d been prepared to berate the elf if he hadn’t done as instructed on that front but Dobby’s little room was furnished and neat and his bed looked just as nice as Harry’s only smaller. The owl perch in his common room was large—enough for two birds so he wasn’t surprised to find Draco’s Eagle Owl perched there with Hedwig when he came out of his bath. The bigger surprise was Draco himself, lounging on his couch.

“How did you…”

“I have a painting in my personal common room that opens into a narrow elf passageway that comes all the way up here,” Draco admitted. “After a few twists and turns. Elbe showed me.” He pointed towards a painting. “That’s the entrance.”

“Cool.” Harry nodded as he dried his hair. “I have a meeting with Neville in a few minutes so I need to get dressed.”

Draco nodded and stood and walked over to him. “You look good fresh out of a shower, Potter.”

Harry smirked. “If I were a Slytherin, this is where I’d tell you that I look good all the time.”

“You’d be right,” Draco acknowledged. He leaned in and brushed a hesitant kiss over Harry’s mouth. “Is this okay, here?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Harry said as he moved closer. “I don’t have the time or the energy to run around this school pretending to hate you, Draco.”  He settled one hand on Malfoy’s hip and nipped gently at his bottom lip before sealing their mouths together with a firm, knowing kiss.

The hesitant knock on his door made him step away with a sigh. “That’ll probably be Neville. He’s a little nervous, I think. He paled a little when I requested a private conversation with him after dinner.”

Draco smiled. “You are his lord, Potter, and that changes the power in your relationship magically. You realize you could assume legal custody of him if you found his home life wasn’t what you wanted it to be?”

“I’d never do that. Surely he knows I wouldn’t take him from his grandmother. He loves her a lot.” Harry sighed when the knock came again, this time even more hesitant. “Go. I don’t think he can handle you and me half-naked at the same time.”

Draco kissed him again and then disappeared behind the painting in just a few seconds. Harry went to his door and opened it. “Hey, sorry, I was in the shower. Get comfortable, Nev, while I get dressed.”

“No problem,” Neville said as he twisted his hands into his robes and settled on the couch.

Harry quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and t-shirt he’d picked up in Paris shortly after Sirius had been officially exonerated by the Ministry. The news had rocked the Wizarding world and hadn’t cast too fine of a light on the British Ministry. Fudge had rode out the storm with a few speeches about being honored to ‘right a wrong’ and how he felt sorry for young Lord Potter, seeing as how he was an ‘war orphan’. It made Harry furious for half a second and then they’d gone off to Paris and partied until they had all made themselves sick.

He pulled on some socks and walked out into the common room just as Dobby finished arranging a tea tray. “Thanks for coming up. Did you get settled?”

Neville flushed. “Dobby took care of my things. I told him he didn’t have to.”

“I think actually he probably does,” Harry admitted as he sat down. “I really don’t know much about his duties as a vassal but I’ve got a book to read on the subject. I think my official Heir falls under his purview.”

“Right.” Neville flushed. “I was… surprised by the trust fund.”

“It’s one of my duties, Neville. I realize your grandmother was paying your way but as my Heir that is actually one of my responsibilities.”

Neville nodded. “Right. Thank you. I bought a new wand… one that picked me. My magic comes much easier now.”

“Good.” Harry picked up his tea as Dobby bowed silently and went to his room. “Did you want to talk about anything in particular?”

“My Gran says that you’ll copies of all of my academic reports,” Neville flushed and looked away. “Harry, this is so odd!”

Harry laughed suddenly. “Yes, it really rather is. I understand how difficult this is but these are our circumstances. I need your support, Neville, as both my Heir and my friend. Do I have that?”

“Of course,” Neville exclaimed with a flush. He set aside his cup. “That prophecy—my Gran said it could have easily been me. The Dark Lord chose you Harry, but it could have been me just as easily.”

“He chose me instead of you because of my Muggle-born mother,” Harry murmured. “I know and it’s okay, Neville. I don’t blame you for what he did or whatever else you might be thinking. It’s okay.”

“Right.” Neville took a deep breath and picked up his tea again. “Can I use Hedwig for my correspondence? I like to write Gran once a week.”

“Yeah, of course, she’ll love to get out more often. I’ll probably do weekly letters to Sirius and Mr. Riser, my solicitor but you can use her whenever she is here.” He glanced over at the owl stand. “But do avoid Ramses if you can. He’s a bit of a foul tempered thing and rarely tolerates anyone but Draco.”

Neville nodded. “People are talking about him and how he sat with us on the train.”

“Good or bad?”

“A mixture honestly. Some of the more…” Neville sighed. “This is going to sound rude, Harry, but there are those who were raised to be polite about the death of others and those who were not. He’s clearly in mourning and many in our house will accept that. Some won’t.”

“Muggle-borns, you mean. People who don’t understand mourning rituals for the Wizarding world.”

“Yes,” Neville nodded.

“Then perhaps it’s time we teach them,” Harry said. “It’s not fair to condemn them for their lack of knowledge. I know next to nothing about the Wizarding world and if Hogwarts won’t teach us—it’s time that the Houses took up that mantle.”

* * * *

Harry pulled out a second text on Wizarding customs and history to add to the stack that Dobby was holding for him. “I think that should do it, Dobby. We’ll make a lesson plan and start next week.”

“Yes, Master Harry.”

“Mr. Potter, it is a violation of the school’s charter for students to have personal house elves with them.”

Harry glanced at Delores Umbridge and sighed. “Dobby, please go make the copies of the sections we need for from those books and return to the suite.”

“Yes, Master Harry.” Dobby frowned at Umbridge and then walked away.

“Professor Umbridge, Dobby is not a simple bonded house elf but a vassal. Which means he acts as my bonded servant and my personal protection. No magical organization, not even Hogwarts, can separate a titled Noble from his vassal.” He moved around her to walk away. “Have a good evening.”

“That doesn’t mean he can do your school work, Lord Potter.”

Harry laughed. “That wasn’t school work, Professor, just a little personal research. Nothing for you to worry about.”

* * * *

Harry had been surprised when Ron had volunteered to talk about the mourning period in a Wizarding family and even more surprised by how many people who weren’t Muggle-born pressed themselves into the classroom they’d gotten authorization to use. A few words with the prefects of other houses and insured that every Muggle-born, fifth year and down, were heavily encouraged to come but even the sixth and seventh years had come.

“Family or Ancestral magic is blood magic—it connects members of a Wizarding Family together with a pool of magic. While each of us has our own magic we also have ancestral magic that settles on us in the year of our majority—for most that is seventeen and is separate from our own magical maturation. This is the time when we gain the power to apparate and when those who are capable of being an Animagus start to transform effortlessly.” Ron glanced briefly at Harry and then continued. “When the patriarch of a Family dies, the ancestral magic shifts within the entire family—absorbing his magic and the grief of the members of the family is distributed so that they can mourn without it being crippling mentally or magically.”

“Mourning can cripple someone’s magic?” Kevin Wesley was staring at him in horror.

Harry had found out earlier in the day that Kevin was actually an orphan and he’d been raised in a Wizarding orphanage. His schooling was paid for by charitable donations. Harry had contacted his solicitor about donating to the orphanage to make sure none of the children went without a magical education.

“Emotional distress can dampen and at times permanently damage a person’s magic,” Hermione explained. “Which is why some crimes in the Wizarding world are so heinous as to require the Dementor’s Kiss. You’ll learn about protecting your magic during moments of emotional stress in both Charms and Transfiguration. There are also potions that can help shore up and protect your magical core.”

“Right.” Ron rubbed his hands on his robes and pressed on. “When a wizard or witch is in mourning they are uniquely vulnerable to outside stress and require our consideration and our patience. The loss of the Family Patriarch can take a year or more to recover from due to the often unexpected shift in the Family magic.”

Harry was glad that Draco had bowed out of the first class but had been pleased when the Slytherin had offered to teach a few classes on Wizarding political structure and law.

* * * *

Harry had not had a real conversation with Ginny Weasley since before the third task. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about her—it was just that he really didn’t know what to say to her. There was some stupid, immature part of him that resented the fact that he didn’t like her the way she wanted him to. He thought perhaps life would’ve been easier if he’d married her and made babies with her.

It was the third week of school and he’d mostly managed to avoid Umbridge, hadn’t been unduly harassed in Potions and DADA was a dream come true class. It wasn’t as fun as class with Remus had been but they were all learning a lot—even when Umbridge stopped by to observe. Professor Stone was exceedingly proper and so far she had found no reason to interfere but Harry thought she was just waiting for a chance.

Ginny was sitting on the couch beside Harry in the common room and most everyone else had wandered away from them. He figured that was on purpose but he didn’t begrudge her the little games she felt she needed to play. He’d wondered how he could do this without hurting her—if addressing her affection for him would be less or more cruel than ignoring it.

“Harry.”

He closed the book he was reading and focused on her. He watched the blush steal across her face and her eyes brighten. Regret pooled in his gut because he suddenly realized that nothing he could say would make her okay with the rejection that was coming.

“Ginny. How are you?”

“Good. We have a Hogsmeade weekend coming up and I was thinking that… we could go together.”

Harry sighed and played with the binding of his book. “I actually have to go to Diagon Ally on Saturday. I have several meetings at Gringotts and with my solicitor and Sunday I have plans with Draco.”

She flushed brightly with what he knew was temper. Harry had been around enough Weasleys in his life time to see that coming a mile away. “Malfoy.”

“Lord Malfoy, yes. We have plans.”

“Whatever business the two of you have could be done later or earlier. Surely he doesn’t expect you to forgo a personal life,” Ginny protested.

Harry frowned. “Draco is my personal life, Ginny.”

“No.” Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Harry, you’re not… like that. Surely you’re not disgusting like that. You were raised by Muggles!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry questioned fiercely.

“Muggles don’t approve of being gay, surely your Muggle relatives taught you it’s wrong!”

“It isn’t wrong,” Harry murmured. “And lower your voice. Who I chose to have a romantic relationship with is none of anyone’s business.” He stood up abruptly. “Excuse me.”

Ginny glared at him. “Just what the world needed—another poof.”

The few people who were in the common room turned to stare in her in horror and Harry sighed. “Ginny, grow up. You sound like a child and I would think with everything that is going on in the world that you would realize that no one, least of all me, has time for your silly little games.”

He was half way up the stairs when Ron started up after him. Neither said anything until they were in his private common room. He threw his book on his desk and rounded on his best mate with a glare. “Did you follow me up to say I’m disgusting, too?”

Ron winced. “No, Harry, of course not. I saw the thing with Malfoy coming. You two have always had an intense thing going on and now that it isn’t hostile—it stands to reason all of that energy and passion had to go somewhere.”

Harry stared for a moment and then he smirked. “Hermione coached you.”

He blushed furiously and shrugged. “Yeah, so? It’s true and I see it. Look, whatever Ginny said down there—that’s not how my family thinks okay. Bill is bisexual in case you missed it and Charlie has had a male lover for years. She’s young and she had her heart set on you. Even after Mum told her she needed to let it go after you claimed your title…”

“What does that mean?” Harry demanded. “I wouldn’t… I don’t care about anyone’s social position.”

“No, but mum didn’t want Ginny getting her hopes up and she used that as an excuse. It was pretty obvious at the birthday party that if any Weasley was on your mind for the future it wasn’t my little sister. My mum warned Bill to mind his manners around you.”

Harry grinned. “I would have chased his arse around all of Diagon Ally if I hadn’t already started something interesting with Draco.”

Ron blushed furiously. “Shut up. I don’t even want to know.” He waved a hand. “I’ll talk to Ginny but I think we can both be prepared for her to be something of a problem for a while. Girls are mad.”

* * * *

Mad and vindictive. Three days after the incident in the common room, the social section of the Daily Prophet dedicated a half a page to his rejection of Ginny Weasley and six other girls in school were quoted to having expressed interest in the new young Lord Potter only to be rebuffed. Then they recounted all of the marriage proposals that he’d turned down. He had to hand it to them—there wasn’t a damn thing in the article that he could call them on and it irked the fuck out of him.

In a fit of irritation worthy of any Slytherin, Harry slapped the social section down in front of Ginny with a small, insincere smile. “You’ll have to ask Professor McGonagall about updating the wards to prevent howlers from strangers, Ginerva. Just ask Hermione—she received twenty last year when the Prophet reported our ’rocky relationship’ and that was just on the first day.”

“I didn’t say any of this!” Ginny shouted.

“Everyone knows that the entire staff of the Daily Prophet had to swear on their magic to tell the truth in their reports,” Seamus said from across the table. “That’s why Rita was fired—she’s such a big liar she couldn’t even make the Oath.”

Ginny blushed furiously. “Well, this woman lied about me!”

“Right.” Harry glared at her. “Since I know one of the new owners for the Daily Prophet—it shouldn’t be too difficult for me to prove that. After all, the woman should be walking around like a squib if she knowingly reported a lie.”

Ginny huffed. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“No, but you do have to answer to mum,” Ron said and as he appeared at Harry’s side. “This isn’t how you treat family, Ginny.”

“Harry isn’t our Family Ron! He was just a charity case. Mum felt sorry for him because he’s an orphan!” She flushed hotly. “And now he never will be one of us because he’d rather…” She trailed off when she caught sight of how pale Harry had gone and her eyes widened as he turned and stalked from the hall. “Wait, Harry, I didn’t mean it!”

“You stupid little girl,” Ron hissed. “George, Fred—come over here and do something with her.”

Ron was only a couple minutes behind Harry but the stairs were warded just past his dorm so he couldn’t get up to the new floor where Harry was housed. Dobby was seated at the top stair and he glared openly at Ron for the first time ever.

“Master Harry Potter upset! Very upset!” Dobby rocked. “He loves his Wheezy family but Ginny is bad Wheezy!”

Ron nodded and sat down on the stair just before the ward started. “Yeah, she’s a bad Wheezy.” He rubbed his face and then looked down to where Hermione was standing. He shook his head. “He has the door warded. We’re not getting in until he’s ready.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “I sent Ginny to Madame Pomfrey for a calming draught. She’s really upset.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if she’d done what mum told her to do. We all told her over the summer that Harry didn’t like her the way she wanted him to.” Ron frowned and turned to Dobby. “He didn’t eat his breakfast, Dobby.”

“Dobby takes care of his Master Harry Potter,” Dobby snapped peevishly and popped away.

Hermione laughed softly. “I think Malfoy’s elf is a bad influence on Dobby.”

* * * *

Draco found Harry sprawled out on his full size bed. He leaned on one of the posts for a few minutes and then sighed. “That was pretty harsh even for her—I thought, well, I thought better of her.”

Harry nodded. “I shouldn’t have provoked her, I guess. I was just disgusted by what she said in the paper. I didn’t… I never once led her to believe that I was interested in her romantically. I treated her like a sister—or at least I treated her the same way her brothers treated her.” He frowned. “I just never encouraged anything more than that.”

Draco nodded. “But she always looked at you with stars in her eyes. Just like most of the other girls in this school. You’ll probably never by Harry to them. You’re the Boy Who Lived to people like her. That’s hero worship, mate, and not a damn thing more.”

“Right.” Harry frowned at the heavy cloth canopy of his bed with a sigh and then turned to look at Draco. “If you wanted to make me feel better—you could crawl into this bed with me and we could continue the negotiations of our cease fire.”

Draco laughed. “We have business today, Potter. I’m not letting you get me all mussed up.”

Harry frowned.

“Come on, Harry.” Draco sighed and tugged his friend from the bed. “We have a meeting at Gringotts in 30 minutes. One does not get anywhere in life by making dverger wait. Call Dobby so he can prepare your green robes—you look very shaggable in them.”

“I don’t want to look shaggable,” Harry groused. “Did you hear what she said?”

“Everyone heard what she shouted,” Draco answered gently. “I’m sure we’ll all hear her mother’s howler, too.” He shoved Harry towards the bathroom. “Come on—I wore that drab grey silk shirt you liked. We have a full day today with business things and walking about Diagon Ally looking beautiful.”

Harry shook his head and sighed. “Dobby.” The elf immediately appeared. “The green brocade please—and can you bring some eggs and some tea?”

“Elbe gets your breakfast.” Dobby pointed towards the desk.

Harry nodded at the sight of the tray and sat down at the desk. “I want the dragon skin boots.” He sat down and picked up a piece of bacon before looking at Draco. “You couldn’t look drab if you tried, Malfoy.”

Draco grinned and leaned against Harry’s desk. He picked a piece of bacon off the tray and chewed it thoughtfully. “You did get permission to leave the school grounds, right?”

Harry nodded. “Professor McGonagall signed them though I could tell she didn’t want to. It isn’t like they can refuse me. I’m an adult and I have adult business to take care of.”  He frowned and stood up from the desk after eating less than half of his food. “I hate the potions first thing in the morning. It always makes me feel full.”

“We’ll get you a snack after the Gringotts thing and before you visit Healer Daniels.” Draco checked his watched. “I’ll meet you downstairs in 15 minutes.”

* * * *

“It’s amazing what money can do for a person. You almost look like you belong in our world.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he passed Parkinson and headed for the stairs. “Sure is. You’re a prime example of how a purchased attractive exterior can hide bone-deep ugly.”

She flushed furiously. “He’ll see through you, Potter. You won’t get his money.”

Harry laughed as he paused on the second landing and turned to stare at her. “I have twice as much money as he does, Parkinson.” He leaned on the railing, aware that Draco could hear him from his place below. “Four times as much money as your family and despite my Muggle-born mother, I can count back 15 generations of Family magic. You’re the ninth official generation of the Parkinsons and let’s not even discuss how narrow and weirdly forked your mother’s family tree is.” He scrunched his nose. “But that does explain your face and big ears. Inbreeding is a nasty bit of business.”

“You…”

“Hey, don’t blame me. It’s not my fault your great-great-great grandparents were half-brother and sister.” He finished his way downstairs and offered Draco a sunny smile as Malfoy opened the doors. “Have a good day, Parkinson, and do yourself a favor—turn down that marriage proposal from your first cousin!”

Draco laughed a little breathless all the way across the courtyard and out onto the lawn so they could portkey. “You, Potter, are the light of my life.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Dragon.” He held out his wrist so Draco could touch Mehen. Then with a little flourish, hissed a soft greeting and then the word “Galleon” just to watch Draco’s eyes go dark with interest shortly before they were tugged away. Seconds later, Draco was holding both of his arms and keeping him on his feet.

“No need for you to fall on your pretty arse on the front steps of Gringotts,” Draco murmured and then released him as Elbe and Dobby appeared beside each of them. “You realize you started a trend? Half the titled men in Wizarding Europe have chosen a vassal among their house elves because you did.”

“That’s me,” Harry said dryly and rolled his eyes. “A trend setter.” He looked around the alley and wasn’t surprised to spot two members of the Order of Phoenix already in place. He’d agreed to being watched over reluctantly and mostly to keep Sirius happy.

“It’s funny but nice as well,” Draco murmured. “Your respect for house elves has made the mistreatment of them quite improper practically overnight in some circles.”

“That’s good,” Harry murmured and glanced around them as they entered the bank. The dverger paused as they were both noticed and then a soft grunting murmur started to circulate around the room. “What is this?”

“Just relax,” Draco whispered. “And keep walking. You’re famous, remember?”

They were almost to the small office they’d been directed to in the letter when Ragnok himself appeared. “Lord Potter.”

Harry bowed. “Ragnok, greetings. I live in faith that your enemies are miserable and your vault is overflowing.”

Ragnok nodded solemnly. “So mote it be.” He inclined his head. “I have a matter that I believe you could help me with.”

“If I can, I will,” Harry murmured. He shared a glance with Draco who looked concerned and they followed Ragnok into the private part of the bank.

The scene in Ragnok’s office was not at all what Harry expected. He frowned as he glanced between the obviously beaten female house elf and a wizard. The man looked furious. He shot Ragnok a look of pure contempt before trying to smile at Harry.

“Lord Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Terrance Marcus the third.”

“Right.” Harry looked at him briefly and then walked to where the injured house elf lay. She’d obviously been beaten to near death. It was sickening. “Is she your bonded servant?”

“She is, yes.”

“Did you do this to her?” Harry questioned tightly and Dobby was suddenly there—pressing tight against him. “It’s alright, Dobby.”

“It’s not,” Dobby whispered. “Bad man. He’s a bad man, Master Harry.”

“She refused to hand over her child as is proper,” Marcus snapped. “Ragnok tells me you have a unique connection to wild magic and should be able to call the infant from where she has hidden it.”

“You’re out of your bloody mind if you think I’d expose a helpless child to you after what you’ve done to its mother!” He put a hand on Dobby’s shoulder to stop the elf from pulling at his ears. He turned to Ragnok and glared. “Is this what you would ask of me, Ragnok? To convince a dying elf to sacrifice her child to this vicious, disgusting man?”

Ragnok’s gaze widened briefly at the tone and then he inclined his head. “I trust, Lord Potter, that you will act with honor in all situations.” He glanced towards the female elf. “Her name is Libby and there is not much time. Her child will starve if left unattended for very long.”

Harry’s gaze darkened and he glared at the dverger with contempt for several seconds before collecting himself. “Fine. What do I do?”

“Ask her to bring the child forward,” Ragnok murmured, his tone was clipped and controlled. “Your magic is very strong and she is weak. She won’t be able to deny you, Lord Potter.”

“She’s denied her bonded Master,” Harry pointed out roughly.

“Their bond has been damaged beyond repair due to…” Ragnok glanced at the Marcus. “How she was treated. Her distrust and fear of him outweighs even in the importance of the bond.”

“Just get on with it, Potter, I don’t have all day,” Marcus snapped.

“That is Lord Potter,” Ragnok snapped. “You will be civil in my domain, wizard, or I will ban you from Gringotts.”

Marcus scoffed. “I have too much money in this bank.”

Harry decided that was going to change. He knelt on one knee and Dobby dropped to his knees beside him. It was only seconds before Draco joined him. He glanced briefly at his friend and then picked up Libby’s hand. She shifted slightly and turned her head. He could tell she could barely focus on him.

“Sir.”

“Hello, Libby.” Harry rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand. “Are you in a great deal of pain?”

“No more,” Libby whispered. “Gone now. Sleep soon. Not wake up.”

“Yes,” Harry agreed sadly. “I can feel your magic…”

“Leaving,” Libby responded. “Yes.” She shifted and her fingers tightened in his. “Give it to you.”

“Give what to me?” Harry questioned.

“My magics,” she whispered fiercely. A soft white glow developed between them and Harry heard a surprised grunt from Ragnok as it flowed into Harry like a river. Libby slumped then, diminished and dull eyed she spoke, “Ollie.”

Harry frowned as her hand went limp in his. With a sigh he reached forward and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ragnok, she didn’t…”

“Harry,” Draco interrupted and helped him stand, his eyes wide with shock. “You just…I’ve never… I don’t think a wizard has been gifted with elf magic in a thousand years.”

Harry blinked in surprise and then cleared his throat. “Willaby.” The Head Elf immediately appeared in front of him.

“Yes, my Lord Potter?”

“This is Libby. She gave me… her magic.”

Willaby nodded and then nine elves appeared behind him—all dressed in black with the Potter crest displayed on their chest. Dobby moved to stand beside Willaby then and all eleven elves lit briefly with a brilliant white light.

“What…”

“They are honoring the sacrifice of Libby and acknowledging that you now carry in you… the pure magic of an elf,” Ragnok explained roughly. “Call the child, Lord Potter.”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off and then held out his hands. “Ollie.” The infant appeared instantly in his hands, squirming and dressed in a dirty pillow case. Horrified, he quickly divested the child of the pillow case and tossed it Marcus’ feet.

“That elf is mine, Lord Potter.” Marcus reached out for him and Harry shifted slightly away from him. “You have no right!”

“He has every right,” Ragnok said coolly. “I never told you, Mr. Marcus, that you would be allowed to keep the child—just that Lord Potter would be able to find it. The infant is unbonded and therefore can cannot be claimed by you.”

Harry almost smirked at the dverger as he inspected the tiny, naked, infant elf in his hands. He probably didn’t even weigh three pounds and was quite ugly if he was going to be at all honest about it. He glanced around at his elves, aware that all of them were male and brothers at that. Willaby had informed him that none of them had been able to perform pair bonds because they’d had no official master to accept females into the house hold. He’d been horrified by that.

Franky popped away and returned with a thick and expensive black tea towel which he handed to Harry. “For the baby, my Lord Potter.”

Harry haphazardly wrapped the wiggling infant in the towel and then held him against his heart as he considered his options. “Mr. Marcus, you can leave.”

“I insist you hand that thing over to me,” Marcus snapped. “It belongs to me!”

“Ollie is a sentient, magical being,” Harry murmured and patted the baby’s back as he started to mouth his very expensive robes. “I assure you—I would not give you this infant if Voldemort appeared in this room and demanded it.”

Marcus flinched and then growled. “Libby’s family has served mine for six generations—her off spring has inherited training that belongs to my family.”

Harry frowned at him and then looked at Ragnok. “Inherited training?”

“House elves give their offspring knowledge and training at the time of their birth by sharing their magic, Lord Potter,” Ragnok explained roughly. “Six generations of training makes the infant valuable.”

“I see.” Harry considered that and then focused on Marcus. “You insist, do you?”

“I do.”

“Alright then, I’ll pay you the bond price for the infant.”

“No.”

“Or I can challenge you to a duel and take everything you have for insulting my House and my title,” Harry continued cheerfully. He looked at Draco who had taken a seat to watch the show. “Would that be sufficient to entertain you, Draco?”

“I would find it slightly amusing,” Draco murmured. “Between the two of us—we could ruin him socially and financially in a matter of days.” He glared briefly at Marcus. “So, perhaps you’ll take Lord Potter’s offer and let him keep what he’s been given by the oldest and wildest of magics.”

Marcus glared and then smiled smugly. “I want twice the going rate for an unbonded infant.”

Ragnok glared. “That’s ten thousand galleons.”

“Yes.”

“Done,” Harry murmured. “Give him his money, Ragnok, and then get him out of my sight.” He glanced towards Libby’s body. “Where is Ollie’s father?”

Marcus paused as he headed towards the door and inclined his head. “I killed him first and burned the body. The filthy little thing still wouldn’t give up the off spring.”

Harry said nothing for several seconds after Ragnok closed the doors on the wizard and then he turned to stare at Draco. “It is wizards like that—that make me question whether or not this world deserves to be saved from Voldemort.” He glared at his elves when several of them squeaked. “No, you will not fear him and you will not fear his name. He is nothing but a half-blood wizard who was once a brilliant student but is now a mad thing. If you must feel anything for him—pity his vile and disgusting existence.”

Ollie started to cry in his arms and he sighed. “Now, which one of you has experience with babies?”

They all looked at him with barely disguised horror and Draco started laughing. “I might be able to find one among my staff.”

Dobby started twisting his ear. “Dobby no like babies, Master Harry. No likes. They messy and they bite.”

“You can’t paint every baby with the Draco Malfoy brush, Dobby,” Harry grinned when Draco glared at him. “Besides, Ollie is an elf baby. It can’t be the same thing.”

“It’s very different,” Ragnok acknowledged. “You need a female bonded elf to take care of the child, Lord Potter. One that can imprint on him and raise him in your service. The mother passed her magic to you to protect her child and he has likely already formed a partial bond with you. He can’t be raised by one of Lord Malfoy’s bonded elves.”

“Great.” Harry sighed and bounced a little to make Ollie stop crying. “This is… not what I came here for today, Ragnok.” He glanced towards Libby’s body and frowned. “Willaby, take her home to Potter Manor—give her a clean uniform to wear and bury her as you would one of your own. There is a place on the grounds for the elves, yes?”

“Yes, my Lord Potter,” Willaby acknowledged before popping away with the body and all of his brothers. Then only Dobby was left.

Dobby sighed and held out his hands. “I takes the baby…. temporarily but I can’t keep him. He needs his mama’s magics until he can imprint on another.”

Harry handed Ollie over and then did a quick clean up spell on his robes. “Just think about our options. How do I even go about getting female elves into the house?”

“Elves can go unbonded for several years at a time—and normally don’t bond until after their 15th year, Lord Potter. If you tell Willaby you are willing to accept the bond oath of female elves for your household—the word will spread and they will come to you if they need placement.” Ragnok sat down at his desk as he explained.

“Right.” Harry sighed and looked toward Draco who was laughing softly. “Are you allowed to laugh at me like that?”

“Yes,” Draco answered with a smirk.

“Ragnok, I must insist on a new liegeman, the one you gave me is cruel and vicious.”

Ragnok snorted. “You took him. No exchanges or refunds, Lord Potter.”

Ollie started to cry and Dobby held him out with quivering ears. “Ollie not like me.”

Harry sighed and took the baby.

Ten minutes later he was settled in for his first appointment with the estate’s financial manager and Mr. Riser. Draco was off to one side of the room with a tea service while Mr. Riser and Harry were seated at a table.

“Now, Lord Potter…” The man’s gaze dropped to Ollie who Harry had finally taken the time to wrap properly in the tea towel. “Is that an infant house elf, sir?”

“Yes,” Harry frowned at him. “You act like you’ve never seen one before.”

The man blushed. “Sir, forgive me, but I haven’t. I’ve only seen one child house elf in my sixty-two years. Female elves rarely allow their infants or children to be seen until they are old enough to bond of their own free will.”

“His parents were beaten to death. His mother gave Ollie to me as she died,” Harry said as he relaxed in his chair. “I wouldn’t have him with me, of course, but it happened just a few minutes ago. Now, you have a report for me, Mr. Brandt?”

The man nodded and glanced once more briefly at Ollie before rearranging the parchments in front of him. “Right, well, the matter is a complicated one but I’ll endeavor to explain myself fully. As I told Mr. Riser, we have learned recently that there are several discrepancies in the financial reports you receive from Skylar Enterprises. You are the majority stockholder but as you only recently came into your inheritance they’ve had many years where they were answerable to no one.”

“Fine. Have them audited. Start one year before the murder of my parents and move forward. I want every knut accounted for and prepare to notify the DMLE so that charges can be levied. I want you to hire a two-man team for each company I hold majority stock in. I want them all audited at the same time so that no can attempt to cover their tracks.”

“Lord Potter…” Brandt cleared his throat. “You have majority stock interest in twenty-six companies in Wizarding Europe.”

“Then I suggest you make a plan and get started. There are three things, Mr. Brandt, you will learn in working for me. I won’t be lied to, I won’t be stolen from, and everyone that works for me will earn a decent living. As you audit these companies—I want their payroll reviewed, their hiring practices scrutinized, and I expect a full report on the fiscal situation of each company. If these companies wish to remain a part of my financial future—they will hire and pay fairly. That means, Mr. Brandt, that if I find that I own stock in a single company that has a pure-blood only hiring policy you’ll lose your job. You have one year to make this happen.”

“Of course, my lord.” Brandt nodded and then cleared his throat. “Are there any areas you’d like to explore financially?”

“Yes, I want to own a broom company.” Harry patted Ollie’s back gently as he considered. “Cleansweep has appeal and I am especially fond of my Firebolt.”

“There has been some discussion that Comet Trading Company could be for sale,” Brandt admitted. “Their major stockholder has decided to move to the US.”

Harry frowned and then looked at Draco. “Comet?”

“They’d have to jump into the current century if they wanted to even think about putting your name on a broom. However, they have a talented production team. They’ve just been stymied and mismanaged by an old man. Can’t hurt to look at them.”

Harry frowned. “Right, okay, but I agree on the quality of brooms they’ve put out in recent years. Can you get us a profile on the company, Mr. Brandt? And if I’m interested, I’ll want to meet with their production team and the current owner before making a choice. Their design team should be prepared to seduce me out of my money, Mr. Brandt, and that’s going to require a very nice broom.”

Brandt grinned suddenly. “Understood, sir.” He shifted through a few parchments. “You own stock in several Muggle companies—all of which are currently doing well. Have you had a chance to review them?”

“Yes,” Harry murmured. “I made a list of the companies I want you to get rid of, Mr. Brandt.” He nodded to Riser who passed the list forward. “I don’t want to be associated with any of those companies.”

Brandt paused as he read through the list. “Wricker’s Clothing is one of your biggest Muggle investments, my lord.”

“They are also infamous for employing Muggle children as young as seven years old to work in their factories in third-world countries. I won’t be a part of that. Sell that stock immediately and be prepared to lose money on the sale if necessary.” Ollie started to cry softly against his robes and Harry frowned at him. Big green eyes blinked up at him from a scrunched up face. “I don’t even have an idea how old this little guy is.”

“Days, old, Master Harry. Maybe a week.” Dobby peeked at the baby. “Maybe he’s hungry. I goes find a bottle.” He blinked away and Harry hoped fervently that Dobby found the kid a mother attached to the bottle.

“Right.” Harry sighed.

“What about Grunnings, Inc?” Brandt questioned. “You own them outright and the company has been very profitable.”

Harry’s mouth twisted in distaste as he thought about the company his Uncle worked for and he sighed again when Dobby popped back into the room and handed him a tiny bottle. Ollie accepted it without a fuss. “I have no rational explanation for it, Mr. Brandt. It makes me money and provides hundreds of honest working people with great jobs that pay well and have excellent benefits. My reasons are personal. Please sell it as soon as possible and do try to make sure it’s sold to someone who will take care of the workers.”

“Of course, my lord.” Brandt made a few more notes. “Now, your estate currently has six investment accounts that are run by the dverger. Your account manager for Gringotts is Traygor and he’ll join us now if you’re ready.”

Harry nodded absently and handed the empty bottle to Dobby who banished it with a flick of his wrist. “That’s fine. I have just a few questions regarding those matters and then we’ll be finished for the day.” He turned to Dobby. “Go ask Molly Weasley if I can visit with her today.”

“Yes, Master Harry.” Dobby blinked away.

By the time Traygor had settled into place at the table with his log book, Dobby had returned with an invitation to tea for Harry and Draco at The Burrow.

“The transaction between you and Mr. Marcus is complete, Lord Potter.” Traygor glanced briefly at Ollie. “It is a rare blessing to receive the magic of a dying elf, sir.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, I was told.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I’m sure you find my ignorance of such things insulting, Traygor, but please know that I am attempting to educate myself as quickly as possible regarding those matters.”

Traygor inclined his head. “Ragnok finds you interesting, Lord Potter. As such, you will be afforded latitude as you adjust to your role in our world. Your ancestral magic has fully settled and from all appearances it has brought you a level of maturity unexpected for someone your age. You made note in your missive that you wished to discuss the investments in your account.”

“Yes,” Harry began and glanced down at Ollie. “Draco, come take the baby so I can work on this.”

Draco sighed and stood. “If he doesn’t like Dobby, I doubt seriously he’s going to like me.” He accepted Ollie with careful hands and they all stilled to see how the tiny elf would react. He smiled then. “Alright then.” He went back to his chair with an amused and somewhat awed smile in place. Elbe pretended not to be interested.

Harry shook his head and then pulled out several documents from the bag Dobby carried over his shoulder. “Account P76G239, Traygor. It has a secondary owner who has withdrawn a considerable amount of money from it over the past five months. I’ve reviewed the records that I’ve received and I don’t have a listing of who the secondary holder of the account is.”

Traygor paused and flipped through several pages of the book before nodding. “Ah, your parents set up the account to fund the Order of the Phoenix, Lord Potter. It was reactivated after the Tri-Wizard Tournament was held and the Dark Lord returned to power. The activity was initiated by Albus Dumbledore.” He paused and folded his hands on top of the book. “Is this… a problem, Lord Potter? We were told you were aware of the situation with the Dark Lord and consented to the funding of the Order of the Phoenix.”

Harry considered his words carefully, aware that he really didn’t want to see Dumbledore sanctioned by the dverger for fraud. “It’s fine. I was just unsure of which account was handling the matter.” He checked his parchment. “The account currently has five hundred thousand galleons in it and you handle the investments to keep the balance healthy, correct?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good, turn the entire account over to the Order of the Phoenix. Let Albus Dumbledore know that the Order is now the sole signatory on the account. I want it separated from me entirely and I would prefer that the origin of the account be put under a magical seal. I’d rather it not be a matter of public record that I was a party to funding an unauthorized militia group.”

“Of course, sir. It will be taken care of immediately,” Traygor said and then made several notes. “It is a wise choice. How long do you want the seal to last?”

“Set the seal to expire one year after my death,” Harry murmured.

Mr. Brandt cleared his throat. “While that is a wise decision if the Dark Lord were to come to power—it doesn’t provide you with any benefit if the Light should win, my lord.”

Harry frowned at him. “Glory for the sake of vanity is for the weak minded, Mr. Brandt.” He paused and then glanced briefly at Draco. “Besides if Voldemort were to win the war that is coming—it would be because I’m already dead.” He focused on Traygor and found the dverger regarding him with a curious expression. “I’m satisfied with the investments and the returns on my other accounts. I would like to be more aggressive with the secondary accounts while leaving the primary account in safer, well-established options. I will leave you to make those decisions but I would like quarterly reports from you personally on how much money we are making together.”

Traygor smiled. “It is always an honor to make money with a man who respects the circumstances and responsibilities of destiny, Lord Potter.”

* * * *

Harry stripped out of his shirt and was glad that he’d made Draco, the two elves, and his guards from Dumbledore wait out in the lobby of the building. “You looked perturbed, sir.”

Healer Daniels sighed and began his diagnostic. “I want to see you put on some more muscle, Lord Potter. I will have to suggest a workout regimen. Fortunately, you are Muggle raised so you won’t be as horrified by it as some of the wizards I get in here. Running and some weight training would help you build up muscle.”

“Which I need?” Harry glanced over his chest. He’d grown a lot in the months since he’d started visiting the healer—putting on inches and weight but he was still quite thin by his own admission.

“Yes, you need to increase your physical strength and your body stamina. This is necessary for the amount of training you’ll be putting in next summer. Dueling, even magical dueling, is exhausting physically. You have the magic for it, my lord, but your body isn’t prepared for war.” Daniels frowned at him. “I’d really like you to come out of this war in one piece and alive.”

“Me, too,” Harry said with a small grin. He pulled on his t-shirt and then the dress shirt as well. “I’ll work on it. Just send me the instructions and Dobby will make sure.”

“I’m sure he will,” Daniels said with a smile. He handed Harry a new list of potions. “We’re going to increase your nutrients a little, tone down the organ management potion as you are back in the norm for your age group. You’ll have one more growth spurt on the height front so expect at least three more inches in the next two years. Your bone health is really good but I want to keep you on the bone supplement for a full year and then we’ll do quarterly potions for a year after that. You can’t make up for years of malnutrition overnight but if we take care of this now you won’t be a crippled old man at sixty either.”

“I plan on being a very spry sixty,” Harry exclaimed and then sighed as he reviewed the list. “The potion master that I will ask to brew this at school might question you about it. He doesn’t have permission to know why I need the potions but you can confirm that you prescribed them and that they are necessary.”

“Not a problem, Lord Potter.”

* * * *

They’d taken a private dining room at The Leaky Cauldron for the lunch appointment on Draco’s calendar. Bill Weasley had made an appearance as they had entered the tavern and made himself comfortable in the back of the room under a notice-me-not charm. Draco wondered if the wizard had joined the Order officially since he’d gone back to school but didn’t feel like he was in a good position to ask. As far as many assumed, he didn’t even know the Order of the Phoenix existed again. His business with Charles Mortimer had the potential to be unpleasant but he was determined to set everything in his life to rights and that meant getting rid of Mortimer.

Harry had settled into a nice leather chair in the back corner of the room a few feet from Bill with a small snack provided by Dobby. The baby elf was still clinging to Harry’s magic. Draco was loathed to tell his friend that if they didn’t find a female elf for the infant to bond with that he would probably die.  They couldn’t be sure that Libby had given Harry enough magic to help her child survive until he could thrive on his own. Harry was quite taken with the ugly little baby already.

He relaxed in his chair and offered Mortimer a shrewd, insincere smile. He hated the fat, twisted bastard. “Mortimer.”

“Lord Malfoy.” The man grinned. “I was disappointed not to get an invitation to the manor. I do enjoy a meal with your lovely mother.”

Draco’s gaze darkened. “Yes, well, you aren’t the kind of man my father would want his widow socializing with, Mr. Mortimer. It would be unwise for you to make plans to attend my table in the future. As the Patriarch of my family, it is my responsibility to introduce the available women in my family to the right kind of people.”

“Too good for my money, are ya?” Mortimer snorted and glanced at Harry who hadn’t bothered to even acknowledge him.

“It isn’t like I need your money, Mr. Mortimer.” Draco crossed his legs and continued his artful sprawl. “Elbe.” The elf passed him a small leather packet.

Draco tossed it across the table. “That represents your interest in Lair Potions, Inc. This is a one time offer.”

“If I don’t accept?”

“I’ll sell my share of the company to the first Muggle-born I can find and for one galleon. Since I own sixty-five percent of the company, I believe you might find such an environment restraining.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would,” Draco promised. “Hey, Potter, do you think Hermione would enjoy owning a potions lab? She’d have at least a hundred people to boss around to her heart’s content.”

“I’m sure she’d be thrilled.” Harry looked up from Ollie, Mehen was uncurled and gently hissing at them both. He turned to the snake and said in Parseltongue, “Don’t move too fast, you’ll scare the baby.”

Mortimer blinked in surprise. “You’re really a Parselmouth? I thought that was just… propaganda.”

Harry glanced at him briefly. “Draco, your associate doesn’t have leave to speak to me. Let him know if he doesn’t stop I’m going to tell my psychotic, mass murdering, completely innocent of all charges because the Minister of Magic says so, Godfather that he’s bothering me.”

Draco barely swallowed the laugh as Mortimer paled and stood. “File the parchment at Gringotts and sign over your portion of Lair Potions, Mortimer or our next meeting won’t be civilized.” His gaze narrowed when the man started to protest. “I am every inch my father’s son, Mortimer.”

He took the packet and left the private dining room with a huff and a glare.

“Two more,” Draco admitted and looked up as Tom entered with a tray. “Oh, chocolate biscuits.”

Tom laughed. “I also brought a hard biscuit for the baby to gum on. Baby elves cut their teeth early—usually in the first month.” He offered the treat to Harry after he set down the tray. “It’s already spread all over the ally that a dying elf gave you her magic and her son.”

Harry nodded and frowned. “I have no idea what to do with him, to be honest.  Dobby says I have to keep him close until we can find him another elf to bond with. So far he hasn’t had any interest in the ones I have in my house.”

“Poor little mite,” Tom said as he set up a small table near Harry with a snack for him before setting up Draco’s on the table. “I’ll send in your next appointment, Lord Malfoy.”

“Thanks, Tom, you’re a life saver. With school in session it’s hard to take care of this stuff like we should.”

“Not a problem,” Tom assured.

Draco fussed with setting up his tea to calm down and hoped he’d managed to look as uninterested as his father had in the past when his second appointment arrived.

Stefan Moruse sat down at the chair. “I must say, Draco, your father’s legacy looks very good  on you.” He smirked when Draco blushed and Harry glared. “Relax, I wouldn’t even dream of coming between the two of you. It’s making most of the wizards I know have fits—and that kind of entertainment is rare in today’s world.”

“I take it you saw Mortimer on the way out?”

Stefan laughed. “I’ll spare you the language and his temper. He’s a foul man, my lord; you are well served to be finished with the likes of him.”

“Hmmm.” Draco shrugged and pulled out a parchment. He slid it across the table. “I forced him out of Lair Potions. I’m offering you a choice. I sell my shares of Sweetlake, Inc to you, giving you the lion’s share of the business or I sell them to Philipe Redston. I don’t like Redston. I think he’s an ill-mannered git with extremely poor taste and questionable hygiene. I do, however, like you and figure you’ll enjoy lording your majority share over him.”

Moruse frowned. “He won’t like it but I sure as hell I don’t want a third unknown partner and I don’t want Redston to be the majority share holder either. Why the sell? Sweetlake makes you a great deal of money.”

“You were at my father’s funeral,” Draco said shortly. “In order to fulfill the promise I made him I’ve had to make concessions and changes in my life. That means that projects like Sweetlake, no matter how profitable, no longer fit with the image I need in order to be an effective member of the Light.”

Moruse glanced at Harry and nodded. “Alright then. I’ll buy your shares and leave you the option to return if you get bored with being good. It’s really over rated.”

“Here, here,” Harry muttered and grinned when Moruse looked him over. “Do be careful, sir, dragons are notoriously short tempered.”

Moruse straightened in his chair and blushed. “Yes, well, the two of you make quite a picture and power has always interested me in ways that are best left unsaid in the company of such young wizards.”

Part Three