Work Text:
Disclaimer: The story is based on characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended; no monetary gain will be made from this story.
Author’s Notes: The characters depicted are slightly AU and some of their personalities have been changed to suit my muse. This is the first fanfic I ever wrote.
*~*~*~
Prologue
In the end, it was a photograph that started it all. Who ever would have thought that such a small thing could come to mean so much?
*~*~*~
An Unexpected Birthday Present
A sharp rap at the door woke seventeen-year-old Harry Potter from a light sleep.
“Time to get up, boy,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “Breakfast won’t make itself.”
Harry smiled to himself as he put his eyeglasses on and looked at the tidy row of wizard birthday cards that had arrived from his friends the night before. They were slowly drifting apart as their interests began to shift, but Ron and Hermione had been his first friends and it was nice of them to remember his birthday.
Another sharp rap came to the door. “Aren’t you up yet?”
“Yes, Aunt Petunia. I am getting dressed.”
Harry slipped out of the t-shirt and boxers he had been sleeping in; he pulled on a clean t-shirt, boxers and a pair of jean shorts that were only slightly too large.
*~*~*~
The shorts and t-shirt were the last part of an odd gift of friendship he had received from his dorm mate, Dean Thomas, early in the fourth year. Dean, as many teenaged boys do, had shot up more than six inches in the course of several months and was left with a trunk full of clothes that no longer fit him. The clothing, being of muggle manufacture, could not be magically resized, as could wizard-produced articles. When he owled his mother, asking if he should send them home, she had replied that since it was doubtful that his little sister would ever wear them, that he should donate them to charity.
Dean watched his thin dorm mate pull on one more whale-sized t-shirt that came past his knees. It was no secret to the other boys in the dorm that Harry’s family hated him. And year after year, the horrible hand-me-down clothes had gotten worse. Harry always put on a brave face and tried to joke about it, but Dean knew that it embarrassed him to no end.
Dean replaced the oversized clothing with those he had outgrown. They would still be too large for Harry’s slight frame, but they would not fall off him either. When Harry discovered the clothing, he had first thought it was a miss-delivery from the house elves in the laundry, but three shirts in the colors of the West Ham Football team revealed the truth. Dean, of course, denied all knowledge of the charitable donation, but he was the first one to toast a marshmallow when they incinerated Dudley’s old clothes.
*~*~*~
Harry hurriedly washed his face in the bathroom sink and attempted to control his wildly spiking raven black hair. He had grown a little over the year, but was still one of the smallest students in his grade; years of malnutrition at the hands of the Dursleys had seen to that.
Aunt Petunia clicked her tongue sharply as Harry finally arrived to make the breakfast. He quickly gathered the eggs and bacon from the refrigerator. The coffee pot was on a timer, so it was happily percolating in the corner.
Uncle Vernon arrived just as Harry placed a large plate of buttered toast on the table. Dudley lumbered into the room minutes later. He was now nearly as wide as he was tall.
Aunt Petunia prattled on about their plans for this special day, Harry half-tuned her out. He knew that they would never acknowledge that today was his birthday. As Aunt Petunia was winding down her conversation, Harry began to listen to her again as she began to list the chores she wanted done while the Dursleys were out for the day.
For the first time ever, Aunt Petunia’s list consisted of only one item, but what a large item it was. She pointed toward a pile of flattened Grunnings Drill boxes, a tape gun, cleaning supplies and her second best vacuum cleaner. Harry’s job was to clean out the attic.
Dudley was waiting for Harry as he carried the vacuum cleaner and cleaning supplies up the stairs. He snorted as Harry pulled down the folding staircase leading to the attic.
“Happy Birthday, Cousin,” he sneered as he slapped Harry roughly on his backside.
”Here’s one to grow on.”
He was still laughing as he thundered down the stairs to his waiting parents. Uncle Vernon shot the young wizard his usual warning of “no funny business while we’re out”.
Harry could feel the stifling heat of the attic as he climbed the stairs. He left the boxes and the cleaning supplies on the lower landing, just bringing the vacuum. Everything in the room was covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs. Harry pulled the cords, turning on the two bare light bulbs and paused to figure out where to start.
It was several hours later when a tired, filthy Harry leaned against a stack of boxes in the corner. He drank deeply from a glass of water and rested his head against the stack of boxes. He felt the stack shift slightly and heard a box slide off the top of the stack and fall down behind them. With a curse and a sigh, Harry examined the fallen box; thankfully, he had not heard the sound of breakage.
Harry picked up the box, still held closed with old, cracked tape. It was the kind of box department stores gave out at Christmas for clothing. With the exception of a crumpled corner it appeared to be undamaged. Harry was about to set it aside when he saw what was written on the side of it. In a neat script that was not Aunt Petunia’s it read, “Lily’s Music”.
Harry clutched the box. Could it actually be something that had belonged to his mother? He hurried to look out the small attic window and sighed in relief when he did not see the Dursley’s car.
Hands trembling, he knelt beside the box and worked a piece of the brittle tape loose. Carefully, he lifted the lid to find several soft cover music books; the top book read “Beginner’s Piano.” In a neat, childish script on the top right of the booklet cover was the name “Lily Evans”.
Harry stopped himself from touching the booklet – his hands were filthy. He replaced the lid back on the box and hurriedly looked at the other stacked boxes. No other box had his mother’s name on it. Creeping down the stairs, box in hand, Harry stopped to wash his hands in the bathroom. Car doors slammed outside of #4 Privet Drive. The Dursleys had returned.
The excited wizard flung open his school trunk and set the box inside covered with his school robes. Aunt Petunia would never look there.
Harry was back in the attic when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon climbed up to check on his progress. As instructed, Harry had the Grunnings boxes lined up and unsealed, filled with various degrees of trash. In a move of inspiration, Harry had several boxes labeled “Dudley’s Baby Toys”; in them he had placed toy after toy in various stages of destruction. As expected, Aunt Petunia gushed when she saw the motley collection of battered stuffed rabbits and cars missing a wheel or two.
Removing only a few items, the Dursleys determined which boxes were trash and which were charity. Harry had cleaned up all but one stack of boxes. Aunt Petunia didn’t even notice.
Taking one look at how filthy Harry was Aunt Petunia ordered him to clean himself up before she made “Dudleykins” an after-dinner snack. The hot shower water felt wonderful against Harry’s aching muscles.
Slightly refreshed, Harry pulled on a West Ham t-shirt and a Chudley Cannons pair of boxers. He was too tired to eat dinner even if Aunt Petunia had offered him any.
Harry lay down on his bed, waiting for the Dursleys to drop off to sleep. When he was certain that they were down for the night, Harry opened his school trunk and lifted out the box.
The box contained six piano music books, various pages of sheet music, Muggle school concert programs with his mother’s name listed and three music medallions. Smiling softly, Harry ran his fingers over the name on the cover of a book called “Intermediate Piano Duets.” As he placed the book on top of the others, several photographs slipped out on to the floor.
Harry stared at three photographs of Lily Evans as a small girl. They were Muggle school photographs with the year written on the back. Harry picked up the music book again and one more photograph fluttered out.
It was a wizard photograph of his mother and another Hogwarts student playing a duet on a piano. The heat of the attic seemed to have damaged it because the images barely moved. His mother’s long red hair was in a thick braid down her back; the other student had shoulder length white blond hair. Harry could not see the face of the other pianist. In her neat script was a notation on the back – “Luci and Lily – Hogwarts Fourth Year.”
Harry held the photograph in his hands for a long while before packing everything back in the box and putting it back in his school trunk.
Harry’s last thought before he drifted off to sleep was that, unintentionally, the Dursleys had finally given him a birthday present.
*~*~*~*
Restoration
Harry awoke early the next morning when a postal owl dropped a small bundle on his stomach. The owl hooted a soft “hello” to Hedwig and soared from the window. Harry untied the bundle containing a week’s worth of “The Daily Prophet”. Since the rebirth of Lord Voldemort, Harry wanted to keep abreast of wizarding news.
The emerald eyes shone as Harry discovered a small advertisement buried in the middle of the newspaper - “Pinkham’s Photo Restoration – No job too big, no job too small”. Harry stared at the damaged photograph of his mother and her friend one more time. Gathering his parchment, quill and ink, Harry penned a short note to the wizards at Pinkham’s Photo Restoration asking if it was possible to repair the enclosed photograph, and if so, how much it would cost. As a last minute thought, Harry also requested an exact duplicate of the photograph if it could be repaired.
Tying the note and the photograph securely to Hedwig’s leg, Harry sent her off into the sunrise. If they could repair the photograph, maybe Sirius or Remus could tell him who Luci was. Harry knew so little about his mother. Maybe Luci, if he could find her, would be willing to tell him something about his mother while she was at Hogwarts.
*~*~*~*
Hedwig returned the next day with a reply. For two galleons, one sickle and five knuts, the photo restorers could do as he asked. Harry pulled a small bag of coins from his school trunk. He always kept some wizard and Muggle money on hand for emergencies. Harry removed two galleons and two sickles from the bag and early that evening he sent Hedwig back with the money and confirmation.
Aunt Petunia kept Harry busy the next few days. She had decided to clean the house, top to bottom and to repaint the kitchen. Exhausted after a day of deep cleaning, Harry crept into his rooms and stopped. Hedwig was out of her cage, attempting to untie the bindings holding a large envelope from the legs of a brown barn owl. Harry stroked her feathers gently and she hopped over to the desk chair. Harry made quick work of the bindings, releasing the barn owl. With a grateful hoot, the large owl took a sip of water and flew out the window.
The return address on the envelope read “Pinkham’s Photo Restoration”. Before Harry could open the envelope, Uncle Vernon bellowed for him to “get his arse downstairs immediately”. With a softly muttered curse, Harry hid the envelope in his hiding place beneath the loose floorboards.
One and a half hours later Harry limped back up to his bedroom and quickly grabbed a clean t-shirt and boxers before hurrying to the bathroom for a quick shower. Harry winced as the warm water hit the fresh welts on his back and legs; Uncle Vernon had whipped him with his belt upon discovering that the leftover kitchen paint had been spilled on the garage floor.
Of course, Dudley had spilled the paint, but Harry, as usual, took the blame. Harry cleaned up the spilled paint, endured an ear-shattering lecture on being “a wasted bit of human flesh” and bore fifteen lashes with a leather belt. Only then was he given ten minutes to use the bathroom and take a shower before he would be locked into his bedroom for three days, without meals.
Harry filled four large empty juice bottles with drinking water for Hedwig and himself. He hid them in his wardrobe. Uncle Vernon handed Harry an old pan to relieve himself in and dead bolted the door behind him. Harry heard the three locks slide into place.
Hedwig watched silently from atop her cage, her large amber eyes following his movements. She flew up and perched on his shoulder, nibbling at his still wet hair with affection.
“S’alright, girl,” Harry whispered. “Still have some food left over from my birthday.”
Harry lifted his snowy owl from his shoulder and set her on the bed. He kneeled on the floor and opened the secret compartment beneath the loose floorboard. The slight wizard removed the envelope containing the photographs and two of Mrs. Weasley’s meat pies. She had charmed them to remain fresh for at least a month.
Harry broke one of the pies in half; he set one of the halves on his desk in a stray bit of wrap. Hedwig hopped over and delicately began nibbling at the pie.
Harry finished the small pies quickly; they were very filling. He suspected that Mrs. Weasley had charmed them to do that as well. After taking a small sip of water from a juice bottle, Harry wiped his hands clean on his damp bath towel.
Wincing slightly, the emerald-eyed young man sat down, staring at the envelope in his lap for a few moments. Finally, he turned it over and unfastened the clasp sealing the envelope. He pulled out two flat pieces of cardboard. His six knuts change was taped to one of the pieces of cardboard.
Harry held the original photograph and watched his mother and her friend play a piano duet. He watched in amusement as Lily turned and playfully teased her companion, the other figure smirked and they both began to laugh. Harry watched them interact over and over again, mesmerized by his mother as a fourteen year old girl. He could now see why everyone always told him he had her eyes. They sparkled with a laughter that was reflected in the blue-gray eyes of her friend. Harry examined Luci, wondering why she seemed familiar to him. Luci had white blond hair, thin elfish features and a practiced smirk. With a start, the young wizard realized that Luci was not a girl as he had originally thought. White blond hair. Smirk. Luci was Lucius Malfoy.
Harry puzzled over the photograph for quite some time. His Muggle born mother had been friends with the mudblood hating future Death Eater himself, Lucius Malfoy.
* How in hell had that happened? *
*~*~*~*
Algernon, Hermione Granger’s new owl was waiting patiently for Harry when he awoke the next morning. After his parcel was removed, the gray owl joined Hedwig on her perch and closed his eyes.
Hermione sent a bag of sugar free hard candy and a short note. She asked her usual question of whether he had he finished his summer homework and to inform him she was spending the rest of the summer with the Weasleys at the Burrow. She made tentative plans to meet in Diagon Alley at the end of August, or if not, on the Hogwarts Express September 1st.
Hermione still kept the lines of communication open, but the Gryffindor Trio had started to drift apart during their fifth year. Hermione had poured herself into studying for the O.W.L.S. Harry withdrew into himself after Cedric’s death and the resurrection of Voldemort; he, too, devoted much of his time to his studies after realizing that he needed to be better prepared for the eventual war with the Dark. And Ron, always the reluctant scholar, found himself with two library haunting best friends. After too many unsuccessful attempts to disrupt their studies for something more fun, he began to spend less time with them and more time practicing Quidditch, hanging out with the other athletes and flirting with the opposite sex.
An idea was forming in the back of Harry’s mind. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, ink and quill.
“Hermione,
Send my best to the Weasleys and please let Mrs. Weasley know that her meat pies are a lifesaver.
I found a box while cleaning out the Dursley’s attic that contained several photographs of my mother when she was 8-10 years as well as some beginning piano books.
Do you know how to play the piano? I would really like to learn how to play. When I was seven, Dudley had piano lessons and I learned the scales but Aunt Petunia never let me touch her piano.
I’ll have to let you know my plans on going to Diagon Alley, but in any case, I will see you on the Hogwarts Express September First.
Your friend,
Harry”
Harry also wrote a small note to Sirius and Remus telling them that he found his mother’s music books and asked if they could tell him anything about her music or her musical friends. Harry wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want anyone to know about the wizard photograph yet.
Harry let the owls sleep awhile before he sent them off with their messages. One nice thing about being locked into your own room, you didn’t have to do chores. Harry studied the beginning piano books and tried to remember where the keys were located.
He stared at the stars through his window suddenly feeling very isolated and alone. A decision made, he wrote one more letter before he fell into an uneasy sleep. Hedwig could deliver it when she returned.
*~*~*~*
Correspondence
Lucius Malfoy looked up from his parchment-strewn desk in his office at the Ministry of Magic. A white blur in his peripheral vision distracted him. He looked back at his desk to discover a large snowy owl perched on a stack of books. She politely stuck out her leg.
“Aren’t you a pretty girl,” he murmured as he gently unfastened a medium sized envelope. Feeding her an owl treat, he glanced at the envelope.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy
Ministry of Magic
Department of Antiquities
- Personal -
Personal? Who would send him personal mail at the office? Lucius studied the owl preening her feathers. She was not a familiar owl. Scowling, he opened the envelope.
A smile broke on his usually serious face when he saw the photograph. Who would send him a photograph of himself as a silly adolescent? The white blond wizard unfolded the enclosed letter and was startled by the signature.
“Mr. Malfoy,
Enclosed is an exact copy of a photograph I found while cleaning out my aunt’s attic several days ago. I also found some sheet music for piano.
You must have been quite good friends with my mother when this photo was taken because she refers to you as “Luci”. Not to be rude, but I can’t imagine you permit very many people to call you that.
Until I found this photo the only thing I knew about her was that she died protecting me from Voldemort and that I have her green eyes. If it would not be too much trouble, could you tell me something about this photograph? Given the atmosphere at Hogwarts today, I can’t see how a Slytherin and a Gryffindor became such obvious friends.
I thank you for your time and any information you might be willing to give me. You may keep the photo if you wish, if only for a memory of a happier time.
Sincerely,
Harry James Potter”
“…Memory of a happier time.” Lucius thought as he contemplated the photograph. A soft hoot made him realize that the white owl was still perched on his file cabinet, waiting for orders.
Lucius poured a bit of water into a dish and placed it beside Hedwig. She sipped at it gratefully and then looked at him, her head cocked slightly.
“Be off with you. I have no reply for your master today.” Hedwig gave a hoot and soared out an open window high on the wall.
Lucius re-read the letter before he tucked both the letter and the photograph into a deep pocket within his robes. The boy was obviously trying to play some sort of game with him; he’d have to just play along to see where it leads. He took a sip of lukewarm tea and returned to the stack of parchment on his desk.
*~*~*~*
Several days later an eagle owl delivered a reply from Lucius Malfoy. He sent two photographs of Lily Evans playing Quidditch.
“Harry,
I located two photographs of your mother. As you can see, she played Chaser for Gryffindor. Your father and his friends were not pleased with your mother becoming friends with me. Remus Lupin was the only one who gave us much support, but he was very ill while we were at Hogwarts. Severus Snape had not yet perfected the Wolfsbane Potion he currently takes each month.
Lily and I both enjoyed playing the piano and we occasionally played duets – but our competitive natures made for interesting sessions.
You are correct when you state that not many people call me Luci, in fact, only Lily and my late wife Narcissa, were permitted. Anyone else I would have hexed.
I enjoyed receiving the photograph and it was a reminder of happier times. Feel free to owl me with any other question you may have.
Lucius Malfoy”
Harry and Lucius began a cautious postal correspondence that grew into an odd sort of friendship. Both of them were very lonely and found a shared understanding with one another. Once Harry returned to Hogwarts for his seventh and final year, Lucius decided to provide an owl for them to use because Hedwig was too identifiable and someone might question why she was flying to Malfoy Manor.
In the event the letters were intercepted, Lucius decided that they should not use their own names. He began to refer to Harry as “Raven” and, in a move that amused Harry, signed himself “Luci”.
They kept their friendship private, telling no one. Harry told Lucius about the Dursleys, the resentment he felt at being saddled with “the Boy Who Lived”, his growing dissatisfaction at the evasions and outright lies by Dumbledore, his godfather still on the run from the Ministry, growing apart from his friends and his loneliness.
Lucius confided in Harry his growing dissatisfaction with Voldemort, wanting to distance himself from his fellow Death Eaters, fear that Draco would be forced to choose sides against him and the loneliness he felt since his beloved Narcissa died of cervical cancer the previous year.
Narcissa’s death from cancer opened a wedge into the sheltered reality of Lucius Malfoy. He had begun to think that wizard medicine could cure anything. Mediwizards could regrow entire limbs, but could not prevent one cell from attacking its neighbor. Cancer was extremely rare in a wizard and there were no successful potions available to cure it. With no other alternative, the Malfoys were forced into the Muggle medical community. Chemotherapy worked for a little while, but the cancer did not stay in remission. Lucius was struck by the kindness of the doctors, the nursing staff and total strangers with sick relatives of their own who offered support and comfort. In the end, the only real magical benefit was that the pain relieving potions Severus Snape brewed worked better than Muggle morphine.
*~*~*~*
Hermione Granger agreed to help Harry learn the piano. Professor McGonogall gave them permission to use and old music room near the Great Hall. Harry suspected it was the same piano that was in the wizard photograph.
Harry drifted further from Ron as seventh year progressed. Although Harry still played as Gryffindor Seeker, he no longer thought it an important element in his life. Ron still dreamed of playing professional Quidditch and could not understand Harry’s growing disinterest in playing. Since it was his final year, Harry began to train Dennis Creevey and a second year as his successors.
Harry wrote to Lucius about his desire to learn to play the piano, but that Hermione really didn’t have the time or the experience to properly teach him. He was practicing his scales and had taught himself several of the simpler tunes in his mother’s beginner’s piano books.
Lucius replied that he could secure Harry lessons from a witch in Hogsmeade. If he was interested, he could owl Irma Griphook directly with his schedule of availability. She would contact the instructor and let them know the times Harry was available. Harry arranged to take lessons during the monthly Hogsmeade Weekends. He had long since outgrown the lure of Honeyduke’s and Zonko’s and decided he could spare the three hours for lessons.
*~*~*~*
Lessons
Harry received a pleasant shock when he arrived for his first piano lesson with Irma Griphook. She was a tiny old witch with definite goblin features; Harry wondered vaguely if she was any relation to the Griphook at Gringott’s Bank in Diagon Alley. Her small music store was located six doors down from Zonko’s so Harry did not draw any undue attention from Hogwarts students when he entered the shop.
Madam Griphook led him to a small room on the second floor containing a baby grand piano, several chairs and a small table. She conjured a tray of tea and biscuits and told him his instructor would arrive shortly.
Harry ran his fingers over the keys, playing a scale. The door did not open, but the young wizard sensed another presence in the room. He jumped slightly when a masculine voice purred in his ear. “Always a pleasure to teach such a dedicated student.”
Harry looked up into the blue gray eyes of Lucius Malfoy. The man was icily elegant as always, impeccably dressed in deep gray and black with his long white blond hair secured neatly with a jeweled clasp at the nape of his neck. “You don’t mind if I teach you personally, do you my little Raven?”
And so it went – letters by owl and monthly piano lessons in the secrecy of Madam Griphook’s music room. As Lucius always apparated and disapparated directly into the room, even the little witch did not know who taught the lessons, and, being half-goblin, didn’t care as long as the room was paid for.
Their courtship dance continued and their affection for one another grew. A slight touch, a quick hug, a chaste peck on the cheek, tentative kisses, caresses. It happened so gradually that it came as a shock to Harry late one night to realize he had fallen in love with Lucius Malfoy – Death Eater, supporter of the man who wanted him dead, and father to his fellow classmate, the arrogant Draco.
The morning of the last Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas Holidays, Draco had, once again called Hermione a “Mudblood”. Surprisingly, Neville Longbottom sent him to the floor with a punch.
Mudblood. The word haunted Harry as he waited for Lucius to appear for lessons. Today he had to get an answer to the question that had haunted him since he had first found the wizard photograph.
Lucius apparated into the practice room and pulled Harry onto his lap for a quick round of kisses before lessons began. “You seem a bit distracted, my Love.”
Harry began tentatively. “The Malfoys have always disapproved of Muggle borns being allowed into Hogwarts, haven’t they?”
“Y-yes?” Lucius replied, unsure of where this was going.
“Then how did you get to be friends with my Muggle born mother?”
Lucius readjusted Harry on his lap and held his chin, forcing him to look straight into his eyes. “Who told you your mother was Muggleborn?”
Harry was puzzled by the question. “Everyone. Dumbledore. Hagrid. Sirius… It’s in “Who’s Who of Modern Wizards”, “Witch Weekly” and all the horrible articles by Rita Skeeter about the bloody Boy Who Lived…”
Lucius kissed him deeply. “The Evans family were squibs and your grandmother was a weak witch – too much magic to be a squib but not enough to attend Hogwarts.”
“I-I don’t understand…”
“Certain factions of the magical community have long ostracized Squibs. It’s no wonder that Evans assimilated into the Muggle community. Many Squib families do.” Lucius gathered Harry tightly into his arms. “I suspect that you and your mother got those beautiful eyes and that pale skin from the vampires of Romania. Eyes that color green do not occur outside of the magical community.”
“Why would Dumbledore lie to me?”
“Your mother was a funny, fiery, wonderful creature who did not base her friendships on house politics. She was a good match for your father and they were happy.
“It was a different time then. Voldemort was rising and you were either swept into the evil or away from it. In the martyrdom of James and Lily Potter, the side of Light altered many truths and one of them was your mother’s heritage. Brave, beautiful Muggleborn Lily Evans Potter dying to protect her half-blood son from the evil Muggle hating Voldemort made a much better story than admitting she was a magical miracle of genetics to a long line of squibs.”
Stunned, Harry just sat in Lucius lap, letting the older wizard hold him tight. “Once again,” Harry whispered. “My life is a lie…”
“In his own addle brained way, Dumbledore is trying to protect you…”
“I’m a pureblood.” Harry laughed with an almost hysterical edge. “In the space of six years I’ve gone from being an orphan freak who lived in a cupboard, to the half-blood hero of the wizarding world, to the boy who helped resurrect Voldemort, to this….”
Lucius kissed him again and again, each one harder and more passionate. Harry returned the passion. Breathing hard, he pulled back. “Too much…too soon…”
Harry climbed out of the dark wizard’s lap and moved toward the piano. With shaking hands he began playing a haunting melody.
Lucius leaned back into the leather of the chair and collected his emotions. When had he begun to care so much for that slight little wizard?
*~*~*~*
Draco Malfoy was puzzled. Home for the Christmas holidays, he heard his father playing the piano at odd times of the day and night. His father had stopped playing when his mother had become sick. Father seemed more at peace with himself as well; gone was the crippling sorrow that had consumed him after his wife’s death. The piano, Draco decided, must be some sort of therapy.
When he returned to Hogwarts he was surprised to hear the same haunting melody coming from the music room next to the Great Hall. He was aware that Harry Potter was practicing piano and even he had to admit, had improved a great deal since the beginning of term. What a strange coincidence that they would choose the same melody.
Draco leaned against the wall, listening to Harry practice the melody. His mind drifted, thinking of his father, of Voldemort, of a future beyond Hogwarts. He slowly became aware that Harry was hitting a few wrong notes. Harry seemed to be aware if it as well as he kept trying to work through the short passage.
Not even thinking, Draco drifted into the music room. Harry was alone; his face was calm. Did Harry also use the piano as therapy, he wondered. The white blond wizard approached the piano; conscious that Harry’s hand was hovering over his wand tucked beside him on the bench. Draco glanced at the sheet music and played the passage. Harry stared at him as his fingers ran over the keys again. Harry played the passage and smiled shyly at him.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Draco nodded once and left the room. He was halfway to the dungeons before he realized what he had done. He had just helped a Gryffindor. * How in hell had that happened? *
*~*~*~*
Several weeks before the Easter holidays, Harry received a surprising letter from Vernon Dursley.
“Boy,
We are expecting you home for your two-week holiday. Your Aunt Petunia wants the upstairs painted.
The headmaster at your freak school has sent me the train schedule, so I will pick you up at Kings Cross Station.
Vernon Dursley
p.s. Leave your ruddy owl at school or I will feed her to you raw.”
Harry groaned when he read the letter. Hermione patted him gently on the back.
*~*~*~*
Harry moaned quietly as Lucius nibbled at one of his nipples. The older wizard had him pinned to the floor of the practice room, the piano spelled to play the same practice pieces over and over. They rubbed their erections together, separated by many layers of clothing. Lucius ran his large hands over the bare skin of Harry’s chest, both shirts unbuttoned. Harry gasped at the touch and Lucius took the opportunity to capture his mouth in a deep, passionate duel of tongues.
A small timer on the table chimed a fifteen-minute warning. Piano lessons ended in a quarter of an hour.
“Damnation,” Lucius muttered, rolling off Harry and getting to his feet.
Harry re-buttoned his shirt and spelled the dust and wrinkles from his robes. His companion had done the same.
Harry stood on his toes, capturing Lucius’ lips one more time. “It’s for the best, anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Lucius adjusted his trousers around his erection.
Harry licked his earlobe and whispered into his ear. “As much as I didn’t want to stop today, I don’t fancy my first time being on the floor in Madam Griphook’s music room.”
Lucius stared as Harry slipped out of the room and back onto the streets of Hogsmeade. First time… it had never occurred to him that Harry might still be a virgin.
*~*~*~*
Harry finely chopped his dandelion roots before sprinkling them into his gently simmering cauldron. He casually looked over at Neville who was sharing his table today. So far so good. Harry had unofficially taken over protecting Neville from himself during Potions during the fifth year.
Harry’s mind drifted. He would be catching the Hogwarts Express after lunch with the other students going home for the Easter holidays. Number 4 Privet Drive was not his home; he was not looking forward to being bullied by the Dursleys over the next two weeks.
He heard a soft gasp beside him and a whimpered “Oh, no…”
Neville’s cauldron was glowing bright red and the liquid was bubbling. Unlike the pale blue in Harry’s cauldron, Neville’s potion was bright neon pink.
“Neville! Look out!” Harry screamed as the cauldron exploded. He had managed to push his dorm mate to the floor but the liquid sprayed, covering the entire Potions classroom in a fine pink mist. Harry, who had been directly in front of it when it exploded, was soaked to the skin in the pink potion.
Professor Snape quickly checked his students for injuries before sending them to their rooms for showers. He sent several house elves after them to gather the damaged clothing and clean up the dripping liquid. He did not want the pink solution to get mixed in with the general student laundry.
Snape examined the remains of the potion in Neville’s cauldron. He hurried over to the fire, tossed some floo powder into it and summoned Professor McGonogall.
“Minerva, we have an emergency. I need to see you immediately.”
As he waited for his colleague to arrive, Severus sat at his desk with his head in his hands. “Longbottom, you idiot! Only you could turn a healing draught into a fertility potion.”
*~*~*~*
Easter
The trip to Kings Cross Station was quiet. In the aftermath of Neville’s potion accident, Professors McGonogall and Sprout as a precaution had put all the female Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh year students into segregated compartments. Professor Snape did not think that any of the girls had been fully exposed, but he had warned the mortified girls to refrain from any kind of sexual contact for the next forty-eight hours.
Neville kept apologizing to Harry but Harry told him to forget about it. No one had been injured; the potion did not burn and the worst thing that could happen was that the house elves would be unable to salvage his pink stained clothing.
As the train got closer to London, Harry grew quiet. His compartment mates knew how much Harry did not want to go to the Dursleys. He had tried to appeal to Dumbledore to stay back at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore, ever the optimist, still held out for family reconciliation and insisted he go.
Harry saw Hermione briefly as they crossed to the Muggle side of Kings Cross Station. “It’s only two weeks, Harry,” she said as she handed him one of her parent’s business cards with her home telephone number written on the back. “Call me if it gets too bad…”
Uncle Vernon was waiting near the barrier for his nephew.
“Where’s your trunk?” he barked.
Harry indicated a backpack slung over one arm. “Seventh years are permitted to use basic magic outside of school. I placed a simple reducing charm on my clothes and books.”
Uncle Vernon scowled at that comment and stalked toward his parked car. Harry hurried to keep up with him.
The drive to #4 Privet Drive was tense. Several minutes into the trip, Uncle Vernon turned on the car radio and proceeded to hum along with the music. Harry watched the scenery from the car window, a sinking feeling in his stomach.
When they arrived on Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon told Harry to sit in the kitchen and not touch anything. There would be no reason for him to unpack because Harry would not be staying in Little Winnig with the Dursleys.
“John Montague, a very important client of mine, is in need of an older student to watch his child for Easter holiday and I volunteered you.” His uncle’s mustache twitched dangerously as he leaned in very close to Harry’s face. “I don’t need to remind you of what will happen if there is any funny business…”
“No, Uncle Vernon,” Harry whispered.
*~*~*~*
Harry laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. Uncle Vernon’s important client, Mr. Montague, turned out to be none other than Lucius Malfoy, wearing an expensive muggle suit and his long hair transfigured into a short-cropped style. The trademark Malfoy charm was turned full force onto Aunt Petunia. With one more covert warning about his freakish behavior, Harry was released into the custody of Mr. Montague.
Lucius and Harry portkeyed to an elegant apartment in Muggle London. Lucius placed wards and silencing spells around the perimeter. A light dinner was waiting for them in the dining room.
“I didn’t see Draco on the train. Isn’t he going home for Easter holidays?”
“Actually, Severus Snape is attending a conference for Potions Masters in Melbourne, Australia. He is being recognized for his advancements in the Wolfsbane Potion and Verataserum.
“Draco is considering a career in potions so Severus thought it would be a good educational experience for him and I have to agree. It is never too early to establish professional contacts.”
“Speaking of professional contacts, just how long have you been doing business with Grunnings Drills?” Harry asked in amusement.
“Actually, I met your uncle just yesterday afternoon and planted this business relationship into his mind. He really is a greedy bastard, you know. He tried to sell you to me…all discussed as a business arrangement, of course.”
Harry dropped his fork. “Sell…”
Lucius kissed his hand, suggestively nibbling at a finger. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you go back there again…Harry, I know that there are some fine Muggles out there. I met quite a few when Narcissa was ill. …but he’s the kind of Muggle Voldemort feeds off of…”
They ate in silence for a while. Harry began to get his humor back. “So, Mr. Montague…now that you’ve kidnapped me, what do you plan to do with me for the next two weeks?”
Lucius smiled suggestively, and hand fed him a chocolate truffle. After a quick tour of the apartment, Harry found himself soaking in a sunken bathtub being scrubbed by an attentive Lucius Malfoy. Harry saw the Dark Mark on his lover’s forearm, but as he was expecting it to be there, it was not the shock Harry had thought it would be.
“You are so beautiful.” He dark wizard purred as he pulled a soapy Harry onto his lap. Holding the slight wizard’s hips still, Lucius captured Harry’s mouth in a hungry kiss and ran his fingers through the messy raven hair.
“Harry, what is this pink substance doing in your hair?”
Harry told Lucius about the exploding cauldron; being soaked in the pink solution and about a few of Neville’s other spectacular potions disasters. Lucius laughed and nibbled on an earlobe.
*~*~*~*
Harry lay back on the black satin sheets, his green eyes locked on Lucius; he was both aroused and terrified. Lucius slowly crawled, cat like, across the bed taking in every inch of the gift in front of him. Harry closed his eyes as the dark wizard caressed his cheek.
“Mine.” He hissed and kissed the slight wizard. Harry ran his tongue along Lucius’ bottom lip. The white blond wizard felt him tremble slightly.
“I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.”
“You leave it to me.” Lucius smirked and began to explore every inch of the raven-haired wizard’s body. Soft kisses, gentle nips, and large hands on smooth skin. Harry gasped and moaned as Lucius latched onto a nipple while he caressed the tender skin inside Harry’s thighs. He kissed his way down the pale body before stopping just shy of Harry’s proud erection.
You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he nudged the thin thighs wider apart. Lucius resumed his downward journey. He licked the length of Harry’s cock before swirling the tip several times, teasing the slit.
“Lucius,” Harry moaned. Lucius fondled his balls as he swallowed Harry’s entire length and sucked. Harry’s hips jerked. “Lucius, please…”
Lucius released the cock, giving it a small kiss at the tip. “Not yet, my love. I want to be in you when you come.”
Harry gasped in astonishment as Lucius began to lap at his entrance with his talented tongue. “Please…”
Lucius kissed his way back up Harry’s body before capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. “Are you ready, Love?”
Harry opened his large emerald eyes. “Will it hurt?”
Lucius looked at his own large, thick erection and Harry’s slight frame. He accioed a vial of vanilla scented oil from the bedside table. “Yes, Harry. The first time always hurts but I’ll try to make sure you get some pleasure from it.”
Lucius coated his fingers with the oil. He teased at the entrance before gently pressing one finger in. Harry whimpered, his erection fading; the finger felt huge and it burned.
”Relax.” Lucius purred as Harry’s body slowly began to accommodate the invader. He coated his fingers with more oil and inserted two fingers. Harry hissed at the discomfort. Lucius felt inside and a surprised gasp told him he had located Harry’s prostate.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, rubbing the prostate again and then again.
“Bastard.” Harry gasped, writhing on the bed. Lucius inserted a third finger and began stretching. Harry whimpered again.
“Relax.” He felt Harry relax into the pleasure his fingers were giving him. When he decided Harry was ready, he withdrew his fingers, coated his erection in oil and lifted the slim hips.
Harry tensed as something large and painful entered him. He gave a sharp cry of pain as Lucius pushed past the ring of muscle and stretched him farther than the fingers had. He paused when Harry began to shake, tears streaming from his eyes.
“Please,” Harry gasped. “Please…please take it out. It’s too big…Please take it out.”
Lucius paused. “I’m sorry, Love, but it’s the only way. It’ll be better soon, I promise.
He pulled out slightly and then thrust in burying himself to the root. Harry gave a sharp cry and continued to sob. “Please…”
Lucius licked the salty tears. “The worst is over, love.”
He paused, kissing the pale face beneath him before he pulled out, repositioned Harry’s hip and thrust in at just the right angle to hit the prostate. He established a slow rhythm, as Harry’s pained whimpers became gasps of pleasure.
“You’re so tight, so beautiful.” Lucius lifted the thin legs over his shoulders and began to thrust deeper, faster. Harry could no longer form a complete word. The dark wizard began to stroke his lover’s erection in time with his thrusts. He could feel Harry tightening before the young wizard arched his back and came with a cry. Lucius sped his thrusts as Harry was caught in the waves of his orgasm. With a yell, Lucius emptied his seed deep inside his young lover. The shaking legs slipped off his shoulder.
Lucius, still inside Harry, wrapped his arms tight around the trembling wizard. He kissed him gently on the forehead.
“Mine.”
Harry’s emerald eyes glowed. He kissed Lucius’ shoulder.
“Yours.”
Whispering a quick cleaning spell, Lucius gathered Harry into his arms and snuggled beneath the covers. With a casual wave he uttered “Nox,” plunging the bedroom into darkness.
*~*~*~*
Lucius awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming into his window and a warm weight settled over his chest and legs. He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a tousled mess of black hair. He shifted slightly and two large green eyes locked on his. Harry gave him an odd, shy smile.
“Good morning Lucius,” he whispered, attempting to detangle their limbs. The white blond wizard propped himself up with the bed pillows and pulled Harry into a warm embrace, tucking him under his chin as he began to discuss his plans for the days activities.
Harry winced as he limped out of the bed toward the bathroom. Smiling, Lucius handed him a small vial of a healing draught. Gratefully, the young man emptied it, relief spreading immediately through his lower regions.
Lucius enlarged the contents of Harry’s backpack while Harry took a shower. He shook his head at the pathetic assortment of hand me down clothes. Placing the school books and school supplies back into the bag for storage, he left the leather shaving bag of toiletries beside the bathroom sink along with a silk bathrobe.
He had just finished laying out a breakfast of tea, fruit and croissants when Harry padded into the kitchen. His wild black hair a lost cause, he looked adorable with the too large bathrobe hanging off his slight frame.
*~*~*~*
Lucius looked up as Harry strode out of the bedroom shortly after breakfast wearing slim black jeans and a deep green long sleeved shirt with a small snitch embroidered over the breast. He was carrying a pair of black boots in his hands.
The white blond wizard’s eyes drifted over to the pile of miss-matched hand-me-downs folded neatly on the chair.
“Where did you get those?” he asked, perplexed.
Harry followed his gaze to the ratty clothes and began to laugh. “You don’t really think I’d wear them in public, do you?”
Harry gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Uncle Vernon doesn’t know that my parents left me with any money. For years all they gave me to wear were my fat cousin’s hand-me-downs. Most of those are things my dorm mates outgrew.” Seeing that Lucius appeared to be confused, he continued. “If Uncle Vernon knew I had money, he would take it from me – by force if necessary.”
“Very clever.”
Harry smiled. “I thought so. I have to buy most of my clothes through Muggle catalogs, though. Diagon Alley has a really unusual sense of Muggle fashion most of the time. Only Quality Quidditch Supply gets it right, but that limits you to athletic apparel…. Do we have access to an owl here?”
“Why do you need an owl?”
“Uncle Vernon’s letter told me I was going to be painting the bedrooms and they never take me anywhere, so I only brought a couple of changes of real clothing. Seamus is spending Easter break at Hogwarts; I need to owl him to send me more of my Muggle clothes.”
“There is an owl post office not too far from here, but it’s too risky, and your friend may ask questions.” Lucius strode over to a window and looked at the street below. “Might be easier to just purchase a few items to get you through.”
Harry reached over and gently tugged at Lucius’ ponytail. He ran his finger over the jeweled clasp holding the thick hair. “This has to go. Muggle men do not wear jeweled barrettes in their hair – even if they are family heirlooms.”
The young wizard studied his impeccably dressed lover for a few moments.
“Are all your Muggle clothes like this?”
*~*~*~*
Harry wasn’t sure what was funnier – Lucius’ reaction to a Muggle fast food hamburger or shopping in a department store. When Lucius decided they should go shopping for clothing, he was thinking of the upscale London shops he usually frequented, but Harry refused to be turned into a clone of Draco.
Deciding that since Lucius had agreed to play Muggle tourist for the next few days, they would need to dress appropriately. Harry selected several pairs of jeans for himself and Lucius. The older wizard was having a little bit of trouble getting around the concept of self-serve ready to wear, and that socks and undergarments came in groups of three. Harry doubted that the man had ever owned anything that was not custom tailored before.
Lucius sneered at the electronic cash registers, not realizing what they were and was surprised when Harry slid a thin piece of plastic through a reader.
After they left the store with several packages in hand, Lucius asked how he had paid for it with no currency changing hands. Harry handed him a credit card.
“Do you know what this is?”
Lucius looked closely at the card; it was a Gringotts Bank Gold Card.
“It works like a Muggle credit card except that it draws from my vault. It’s easier than carrying a bag of galleons around.”
Harry refused to let Lucius reimburse him for the casual clothing, but agreed to let him pick out one ensemble for non-casual activities.
Their next stop was at an optician where Harry’s eyes were examined and they picked out a new set of frames to replace his oversized NHS issued pair.
Finally, Harry found himself deposited into a barber chair as the stylist studied the nest that was his hair. In the end they decided on a slightly shorter style with the top spiked to down play the mess of cowlicks.
Harry stared at their reflection in a shop window, amazed at the change. With clothes that actually fit, he looked slim, but not scrawny, and even a little bit older than his seventeen years. Lucius looked dead sexy in his tight jeans and buttoned down shirt with his long white blond hair spilling over his shoulders.
Lucius wrapped his arms around the younger wizard and kissed the top of his head.
“We are perfect.”
*~*~*~*
Harry sat curled up in a chair, watching Lucius sleep, his pale hair splayed across the bedding. Asleep he looked so benign.
It was their last night together; Harry had to return to Hogwarts the next morning. His body ached; tonight’s lovemaking had been intense – almost violent – it would be a long time before they would get the chance to be intimate again, if ever.
Harry sat in the dark bedroom trying to sort out his emotions. Did he love Lucius? Did he even know what love was? He had no experience with affection other than the stray hug from Mrs. Weasley, Hermione or his godfather. Lucius seemed to accept him for what he was, Harry, not The Boy Who Lived, and it was a comfort not to have to wear his mask all the time; in a way, Lucius dropped his mask around Harry as well. Was that what love was?
Lucius shifted in his sleep, his eyes barely opening. “Come back to bed, love.”
As Harry curled into Lucius’ warm embrace, he decided he liked what ever it was they had together. In an odd way, Lucius made him feel safe. With Lucius’ warm breath on his neck, he drifted off to sleep.
*~*~*~*
Between Lucius’ interest in ancient artifacts, magical and Muggle alike, and Harry’s desire to see the places the Dursleys had never allowed him to see, they spent the Easter holiday visiting Muggle museums and attended a few sporting events. As much as they both would have liked to explore magical sites as well, the threat of discovery was too great.
When Harry told his lover about his one and only visit to the zoo, Lucius insisted that they go. He had a fondness for animals that he usually kept well hidden. It amused him when Harry conversed with a few specimens in the reptile house. It seemed that they never did find the boa constrictor Harry had accidentally released on his cousin’s eleventh birthday.
They made love in every room in the apartment. On the days Lucius had to work at the Ministry, Harry did his homework. And as promised, Lucius visited Draco at Hogwarts for a few hours when he returned from Australia several days before the other students were to return.
Too soon it was time for Harry to catch the Hogwarts Express at Kings Cross Station. Lucius, in disguise, watched until Harry disappeared through the barrier at Platform 9-3/4 before apparating to Malfoy Manor.
Harry shared a compartment with Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean. They noticed his appearance immediately; Harry was wearing jeans, a wool jacket and a turtleneck as well as his new glasses. He told them about Uncle Vernon hiring him out to one of his extremely wealthy customers as a companion for the man’s pre-teen daughter. They laughed at his descriptions of some of the odder artifacts found in Muggle museums, his adventures in the Reptile House of the London Zoo and the strangeness of Muggle fashion. He explained away the makeover as a result of Mr. Montague’s daughter being a frustrated fashion designer and/or hairstylist.
Seamus began to laugh. “I can’t believe you let a little girl cut your hair.”
“But she did a really nice job, didn’t she?” Ginny patted Harry’s spiked hair. He smiled at her, grateful she had outgrown her crush.
“I like your new glasses,” Hermione said. “You can really see your eyes now.”
“So, what’s the deal with the posh new clothes.” Ron asked and Harry could see the amusement in his eyes. Anyone who knew Harry knew he wasn’t a wool jacket, turtleneck kind of guy.
“Hand-me-downs from Mr. Montague. I am the exact same size as his current lover.”
The compartment fell silent not sure if he was joking or not. Harry stood at the door and with his old shy smile and said,” I need to get some air. If the witch comes by with the sweet trolley while I’m gone, please get me a couple of chocolate frogs.”
“Well,” said Dean finally. “Never let it be said Harry leads a boring life.”
*~*~*~*
The Timing Could Have Been Better
Albus Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling as Severus Snape gave him a murderous glare. “Now, Severus.” The old man’s tone dripped in amusement. “You really need to compliment Mr. Longbottom on his potion making ability.”
“Albus…” the tall man growled.
Dumbledore ignored him and addressed the rest of the staff in his office. “Poppy has just confirmed it. We now have five pregnant house elves.”
“Five?” Severus buried his head in his hands.
“Out of fourteen house elves involved in the aftermath of Mr. Longbottom’s exploding cauldron, five of them are now pregnant. Poppy, I’ll need you to research house elf pregnancy so we can be prepared for any unforeseen complications, and Argus,” The sour faced caretaker looked up. “Please see if we have any cradles in storage.”
*~*~*~*
Minerva McGonagall caught Snape’s arm, as he was about to enter the Great Hall for dinner.
“Severus, wonderful news.” Snape paused. “Poppy has finished examining all the seventh year Slytherin and Gryffindor girls. No pregnancies.”
Snape let out a breath and a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “Thank Merlin for that.”
*~*~*~*
At first the concept of Neville accidentally creating a fertility potion amused Harry, but now he wasn’t so sure. For the fourth morning in a row he had thrown up breakfast and he felt tired all the time. If he went to Madam Pomphrey and asked to take a pregnancy test she would either throw him out of the Infirmary or demand to know the name of his partner.
No one knew he had taken a lover; no one could know. It would be too dangerous if anyone found out about Lucius. Voldemort would kill them, the Death Eaters would kill them, hell, Sirius would probably help them do it. Harry’s head ached. He missed Lucius. He wanted Lucius to take him in his arms and tell him he was an idiot.
An idiot. Yes, that’s what he was. *Everyone* knew men couldn’t get pregnant. Harry had managed to reassure himself for several moments until another thought burst into his head. And *everyone* also knew that there was no such thing as magic, didn’t they?
There was only one thing to do, he finally decided. He would have to go to the library and find out. Two hours later Harry had his answer. Although uncommon, it was possible for male wizards to get pregnant; especially of one of them was a dark wizard.
“Fuck,” Harry thought.
*~*~*~*
Harry dropped into a chair in the deserted Gryffindor Common Room. He opened the medical books he had smuggled out of the Library. Running his hands through his already messy hair, he tried to concentrate on the words.
What were his options? According to two of the books, male pregnancies could not be aborted without the parent dying as well. If he miscarried, he would bleed to death. So, abortion in any form was not an option.
He pushed aside the books detailing how his body would change, how the baby would grow and options for delivery. Childbirth did not look pleasant.
“This can’t be happening to me,” he thought. “One more thing that’s special about the Boy Who Lived.”
Harry’s mind was racing; getting a girl pregnant would be traumatic enough, but he had managed to get himself pregnant. He knew Neville had accidentally created a fertility potion and he had ignored the warnings. Damn his Muggle upbringing; Muggle males did not get pregnant but, obviously, the same did not hold for male wizards. Why hadn’t Professor Snape warned the seventh year boys about the possibility of pregnancy or, had he too, assumed that only girls could get pregnant?
Harry slipped the books back into his bag and curled up in the chair. Hugging his knees to his chest he stared at the fire. If he was honest with himself, he wanted this baby. Alone for most of his life, he had always dreamed of a family. He would only be eighteen when it was born but wizards in general seemed to have children earlier than their Muggle counterparts.
Tomorrow was a Hogsmeade Weekend. Harry kept going through scenarios in his head on how to tell Lucius and how he thought the dark wizard might react.
His friends would all hate him when they found out he had been screwing a Death Eater. Merlin knew what Sirius would do. What would he do if Lucius didn’t want the baby; if Lucius didn’t want him anymore?
*~*~*~*
Harry stared out the window of Madam Griphook’s practice room. He had gotten very little sleep and was still fairly nauseous. The crackers just weren’t helping much and he couldn’t very well ask Madam Pomfrey for a morning sickness draught.
Lucius apparated into the practice room and discovered that Harry was staring out the window. This was odd; usually Harry would already be playing the piano but he hadn’t even set out the sheet music yet.
Harry faced him, his emerald green eyes held no sparkle. He had heavy black shadows beneath his eyes and his normally pale skin was tinged in green. Lucius gently stroked the side of his face.
“You look terrible. Are you ill?”
Harry smiled weakly. His well-rehearsed speech had disappeared from his head the moment Lucius appeared.
“Is something the matter, love?” Lucius asked, concern in his voice.
Harry closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
“Did you ever want to have more children?”
Lucius stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Do you…Oh, Merlin, this isn’t coming out right.” Harry pulled away from the older wizard and began to pace the room.
“Stop that,” Lucius barked. “What are you nattering about?”
When Harry did not answer immediately, the dark wizard’s mind began to spin. Did Harry think he wanted to find a witch so he could have more children or did Harry want to have children? Or had Harry gotten a witch pregnant?
“Harry, did you knock up a witch?”
Harry stopped pacing and gave an odd laugh. “Well, not exactly…”
“Well, exactly what is it?” Lucius was getting a headache.
“Do you remember at Easter…the pink stuff in my hair?” Lucius slowly nodded. “Found out it was a fertility potion…”
Lucius did not respond, his Malfoy mask had swung into place. Harry withdrew his wand. Lucius stepped back in surprise. With his emerald eyes locked on the gray blue ones, Harry slowly waved the wand down his abdomen, whispering a charm he had found in the library. Lucius’ jaw dropped as he saw a small white sphere glow several inches from Harry’s lower abdomen.
“Did you ever want more children?” Harry whispered again.
Lucius lifted the serpent headed walking stick that Harry knew concealed his wand. Harry raised his arms in a defensive motion, expecting a blow, but Lucius ran the cane gently across his young lover’s abdomen and chanted a different spell. The room glowed pink.
“It appears,” The dark wizard purred as he gathered Harry into a strong hug. “That we will have a daughter.”
Lucius caressed Harry’s back, his mind racing. He almost didn’t catch the slight wizard’s whisper. “I am such an idiot. Are you angry with me?”
Lucius sat in the chair, pulling his lover onto his lap. He kissed him gently. “Angry? No. Shocked is a better word.”
The wizards were silent, each caught up in his own thoughts. The longer the silence held the more panic began to build in Harry’s mind; he began to calculate how many years he could support himself and the baby in the Muggle world with the money in his vault. It would have to be the Muggle world because the wizard world would hate him.
Finally Lucius began to speak. “While I am not adverse to another child, I had not expected to ever have one. Narcissa miscarried twice before Draco was born and several times afterward. When she miscarried again four years ago it was when they discovered the cancer.”
“Do you think you might want this baby?” Harry asked slowly. When the older wizard did not answer, a stray thought ran through Harry’s panicked mind and he blurted it out accidentally. “Is there a female derivative of Neville? Should I name her after him?”
Lucius fixed him with a stare worthy of the Potions Master. Harry shut up immediately, blushing that he had babbled like an idiot.
Kissing his temple, Lucius spoke. “This certainly complicates an already complicated situation. Do you have any idea what will happen if Voldemort finds out?”
“It doesn’t matter…Sirius will kill me first.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“No. I never told anyone about us. They wouldn’t understand. “Harry smiled weakly. “Hell, I don’t even understand.”
Lucius slid Harry off his lap and began to pace the room. He indicated the piano. “Play something. I need to think.”
Harry began to practice his short repertoire of seven pieces as well as his practice scales. After a long while, Lucius sat next to him and began to mirror Harry’s notes with his own. He gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Mine.”
Harry bit his lip. That possessive statement scared him today.
*~*~*~*
The morning sickness ended after the second month. Harry and Lucius continued their relationship via owls and music lessons. Lucius did extensive research on male pregnancy and insisted Harry quit his position as Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Ron exploded when Harry announced to the team that he was stepping down and giving the position to Dennis Creevey. The rest of the team, while unhappy, respected his decision to devote his time to studying for his N.E.W.T.S.
Ron always dreamed of a career after Hogwarts playing professional Quidditch and he had difficulty understanding how Harry could just throw the dream away. Harry, with Hermione, finally sat him down and explained that their N.E.W.T. scores would determine their future careers and that, for Harry, Quidditch was a past-time not a career choice.
After he calmed down, Ron decided that switching to Dennis halfway through the Quidditch season was actually a brilliant strategical move on Harry’s part. The other teams had all devised their game strategy to combat Harry’s tactics; Dennis would be a total unknown.
Studying for the year-end N.E.W.T.S. kept Harry’s mind off his pregnancy. As his waist began to thicken, Harry was grateful for the shapeless student robes. He woke up before any of his dorm mates and was already showered, dressed and reading in the Common Room when they came down for breakfast. Hermione was pleased that he was finally taking his studies seriously.
*~*~*~*
Lucius was worried. Lord Voldemort’s activity was increasing and killing Harry Potter seemed to consume the Dark Lord almost to the exclusion of other activities.
Severus was still operating as a spy; Lucius had known he was a spy for years, but valued his friend’s life over any information that may exchange hands. Anytime Voldemort expressed concern about Snape’s loyalties; he would always manage to diffuse it.
Voldemort was placing pressure on the Death Eaters who had children graduating from Hogwarts and Durmstrang. He had plans and needed the influx of fresh magic into his ranks. He wanted the children given the Dark Mark after their graduation.
Lucius was trying to figure out what to do about Draco. He knew his son had no allegiance to the dark lord and wished to remain neutral. Draco excelled in potions work and Lucius had made inquiries about apprenticeships or advanced training in the North American and Australian magical communities. Time was running out.
He had also received owls from the mothers of the graduating Hogwarts pureblood students wanting his help; many did not want their children bound to Voldemort but were afraid to go against their Death Eater husbands.
And his beloved Harry...
*~*~*~*
Two days before his first N.E.W.T. exam, Harry received a letter from Vernon Dursley.
Boy,
Don’t plan to come back here after you graduate. You are no longer our responsibility and we don’t ever want to hear from you again.
Vernon Dursley
Harry just stared at the letter. In two weeks he would graduate from Hogwarts and he had absolutely no place to go. He felt the baby flutter and tears began to well up in his eyes. Crumpling the letter, he threw it on the table and rushed out of the Great Hall, ignoring curious glances. Damn hormones.
Before Hermione or Dean could reach for the crumpled letter, the letter lifted and shot across the hall into Dumbledore’s hand. His face fell as he read the words. The old wizard exchanged a few words with Professor McGonagall before leaving the hall.
*~*~*~*
Bright Future
Harry stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower and looked over the place that had been his home for seven years. He felt his daughter flutter softly. There was now a slight bulge in his thin frame. Three and one half months pregnant and feeling alone, Lucius had not owled him in over a week. He heard rumors of increased attacks by Death Eaters and hoped his lover was safe.
Tomorrow Harry would leave Hogwarts against Dumbledore’s wishes. He knew he should accept the Headmaster’s offer of safe haven, but he couldn’t hide the pregnancy much longer. Harry just didn’t think he could stand the condemnation once his friends and the professors discovered he was carrying a Death Eaters’ baby.
Harry walked though the corridors of Hogwarts one last time before he ended up in the music room. He sat down and began playing. Students dropped in to say goodbye. It was almost curfew when Harry stopped playing; he was only mildly surprised to see Dumbledore sitting in the corner.
“I can’t convince you to stay?”
“No, Professor. It’s time to move on.”
“Do you have a place to stay?”
“Yes, Professor. I’ve already sent my trunk ahead. I’ve rented a room at The Leaky Cauldron. It will give me time to sort out my options.”
“You’ll be exposed, Harry. Voldemort will try to kill you.”
“No disrespect, sir, but he’s managed to get inside Hogwarts as well.” Harry gathered up his music and ran his hand over the piano as if saying goodbye. ”Good night, sir.”
“Good night, Harry.”
*~*~*~*
Harry stroked Hedwig’s feathers and smiled as she nipped his fingers. He was leaving her with Hagrid until he knew where he was going.
He adjusted his school robe over the swelling of his abdomen. He could see witches and wizards arriving; graduation ceremonies would be starting shortly. It would be bittersweet; there would be no family in the audience that was there just for him. Sirius was away on still another mission for Dumbledore. It was amusing in a way that a man hunted by the Ministry worked so hard to preserve the Ministry.
Harry joined the other graduating seventh year students in a large room off the side of the Great Hall. Professor Flitwick was placing them in alphabetical order for the final procession.
The graduates filed into the Great Room and took their places. Looking into the audience, Harry saw Mr. and Mrs. Granger, a contingent of red haired Weasleys and, on the far side of the room, the white blond hair of Lucius Malfoy. Although he knew they could not acknowledge one another, Harry was relieved to see him there.
Speaker after speaker droned on as the new crop of fully trained witches and wizards clutched their wands and their graduation parchments and shifted in their seats. Lazily, Harry watched as an anonymous Postal Owl circled the Great Hall and was surprised when it dropped a small envelope into his lap before circling once more and soaring out a window.
Harry broke open the seal on the envelope, expecting a letter of congratulations, but there was only a scrap of parchment bearing one word and an emerald colored crystal.
On a reflex, his fingers wrapped around the crystal and he felt the familiar pull of a hook beneath his naval. Padma Patil, who was sitting beside him, heard him utter one word in shock before he disappeared.
“Portkey.”
*~*~*~*
In the chaos that followed, Severus Snape caught Lucius Malfoy’s arm and hissed in his ear. “Voldemort?”
“No,” replied Lucius. “The Boy Who Lived booked a room at The Leaky Cauldron. The Dark Lord planned to kidnap him from there.”
“Dumbledore?”
Lucius barked a short laugh. “I wouldn’t put anything past that blue-eyed bastard.
With her hands shaking, Padma handed Dumbledore the scrap of parchment Harry had dropped. It said only:
“Mine.”
~*~*~*
Harry stumbled as he landed on a soft carpet. His wand drawn, he surveyed his surroundings. He was alone, in a small sitting room that was tastefully decorated in a mixture of antiques and leather. Propped against a vase of red roses were a note and a silver hand bell.
“My Beloved Harry,
I apologize if I frightened you but this is the only way to keep you safe.
You are at Malfoy Manor in a hidden suite of rooms. Please make yourself comfortable. Ring the bell for the house elves if you require anything.
I will join you as soon as I can. I look forward to holding you in my arms.
Yours,
Lucius”
*~*~*~*
Harry keened softly as he impaled himself on Lucius’ erection. He paused, leaning his back against his lover’s drawn up knees. With his feet planted firmly beside the dark wizard’s hips, Harry pushed up and lowered himself, embedded to the root. Awkwardly, he began to raise and lower himself. His center of balance was off with his swollen abdomen; Lucius gently caught his hips and tried to help him establish a rhythm.
Lucius looked at the frustration on the young wizard’s face. He could see the tears beginning to form. He stilled Harry’s movements. “This isn’t working, Love.”
Harry pulled off and curled up on the bed. Six months pregnant, hormones raging, and feeling unloved, Harry had initiated this round of lovemaking. Although a passionate lover, he had never been the one to start.
Lucius kissed his shoulder and lay beside his crying lover; he wrapped Harry in his arms, pulling the slight wizard’s back to his chest. He repositioned Harry’s hips and nudged his backside with his erection.
“Let’s try it this way, Love,” he whispered as he held the hips and slowly thrust in. Harry dropped his head back for a kiss. Rarely had they made love so gently, but Lucius realized that Harry desperately needed reassurance. Narcissa had been the same way when she was in her later stages of pregnancy.
Narcissa, he thought as he thrust into his beloved Harry, Narcissa had always wanted a girl. He reached around the swell in Harry’s abdomen and wrapped his fingers around his erection. He pumped in time with his thrusts and with a cry, Harry exploded, coating Lucius’ fingers. Several additional thrusts and he spilled his seed deep inside his lover.
“Mine,” he whispered into the ear of his lover, who had already fallen into an exhausted sleep.
Almost asleep, he felt a sharp pain in his arm. Voldemort was summoning the Death Eaters.
*~*~*~*
Draco climbed the stairs to the Owlery in Malfoy Manor. He was home for several days; unable to secure an apprenticeship outside of the British Isles on such short notice, Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey agreed to accept him as an apprentice at Hogwarts. He would learn the art of Medicinal Potion Making.
Thankfully, Lord Voldemort agreed not to give him the Dark Mark; Snape and Lucius convinced him that Dumbledore would not permit Draco on the grounds of the school with a mark on his arm. Draco was therefore a better weapon unmarked and supposedly neutral; since he was apprenticed to Snape, a loyal Death Eater, he would still be under Voldemort’s control.
From the Owlery, Draco could see most of the Malfoy estate. He looked up at the sleeping owls and was surprised to find a large, snowy owl nesting in the rafters. He wondered where she had come from. Father would never use such an identifiable owl.
*~*~*~*
“Father,” he asked as the two of them sat eating dinner in the dining room. “I was in the Owlery earlier today. When did we get a white owl?”
“Damn.” Lucius thought. He had forgotten about Hedwig when he hid Harry and all signs of Harry away in anticipation of his son’s visit. Hedwig had arrived a week after Harry’s “disappearance”. Much more than just a postal owl, the intelligent bird had taken it upon herself to find her friend.
“A white owl?” Lucius repeated. “Oh yes, she just showed up this summer. She’s a wizard’s owl, that much is certain, but I don’t know anything else about her.”
“Why wouldn’t she just go home?”
“I don’t really know.” Lucius lied smoothly. “I suspect she doesn’t have a home to go to any more. The Dark Lord’s ordered murder of entire families; he wouldn’t worry about an orphaned postal owl or two. Anyway, she’s pretty to look at and gets on with the other owls…So, how is Severus?
~*~*~*
Draco awoke late in the night to hear the faint sounds of a piano. He smiled to himself. Father seemed to be happier than Draco had seen him in a long time. Even the piano melody seemed happier. Draco fell asleep to the music of a piano duet.
He walked into the music room the next morning and ran his hands over the keys. He looked at some of the sheet music beside the piano. These were intermediate pieces and simple duets. His father played much more complex pieces than this.
A silver framed photograph sitting on a side table caught his eye. Draco examined the photograph of his teenaged father and a teenaged girl playing piano; he couldn’t imagine that his father was ever that silly. Whoever she was, she had pretty eyes. He set the photograph back on the table and made his way to the Library to find his father.
Far off, he heard the faint melody being played on piano. Strange, he thought, it seemed to be coming from a wing of the house that had been closed off since his grandfather’s death fifteen years before. He shook his head and the music went away; must have been his imagination. He didn’t give it another thought for the rest of his visit.
*~*~*~*
The new school year began at Hogwarts; the Gryffindor banner was framed in black on the assumption that The Boy Who Lived was dead. There had been no sign of him since he had been portkeyed during his graduation.
Draco sat at the head table between Snape and Hagrid. Ginny Weasley, now a seventh year, gave him a nod of acknowledgement before hugging Hagrid.
“Hagrid,” she asked the half-giant. “Did you ever find Hedwig?”
“No, lass.” Hagrid shook his shaggy head sadly. “Poor lil’ thing…”
After Ginny returned to the Gryffindor table, Draco began to speak with Hagrid. They had finally come to a peaceful co-existence over the summer while gathering potions ingredients from the Forbidden Forest.
“Hagrid,” he asked suddenly. “Who’s Hedwig?”
“Harry Potter’s owl. I was ta’ take care o’ her but she took off a week after Harry disappeared. I figure she was tryin’ ta’ find him. Poor lil’ thing.”
Draco and Snape left the Great Hall on their way down to the dungeons to brew and bottle some last minute potions for the Infirmary. They heard a few tentative notes being played on the piano in the music room.
“Sir,” asked Draco. “Did my father play piano much when he was a student here?”
Snape stopped to glare at several first year Hufflepuffs who were running in the hallway. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Father has a photograph. He was young, maybe thirteen, and he was playing a duet with a girl in Hogwarts robes. I had never seen it before.” They had arrived in the dungeons.
“Hogwarts was different before Voldemort’s reign. The houses mixed more than they do now. He used to play quite a bit; had concerts with the other houses.” Snape’s face grew pensive. “That all changed during our sixth year…Hogwarts began to fragment as the Dark Lord grew in power…”
“Do you remember the girl? She and Father are acting very foolish…I’ve never seen Father act like that…was she his girlfriend?”
Snape bottled several potions as he tried to remember back more than twenty years. “What does she look like?”
“Pretty eyes, green I think and long brown or red hair…thin.”
Snape paused. “The only one that comes to mind is Lily…Lily Evans.”
Draco’s ladle hung in the air. “Lily Evans? As in Harry Potter’s mother?” He set the ladle on the counter. “My father was a friend of a Mudblood Gryffindor?”
Snape growled. “What did I tell you about using that vulgar term, Apprentice?”
“S-sorry, sir. Muggle born. My father was friends with a Muggle born Gryffindor?”
Snape pushed back his limp black hair. He spelled the door closed. “Lily Evans was the daughter of a Squib – she was not a Muggle, although she was raised in the Muggle world…”
“But…”
“Lily tutored Lucius and me in Charms; we could do any number of dark curses…but we were useless with Charms. I tutored Lily and Remus Lupin in Potions. She was our friend…until the darkness tore us apart.”
*~*~*~*
Harry was frightened. Voldemort had been summoning the Death Eaters more frequently. Lucius had been gone for a week already. He had been summoned early one afternoon and had not returned.
The house elf clucked to herself as she removed Harry’s untouched dinner tray. Master’s Mate did not eat very well when Master wasn’t there. She glanced at Harry’s eight-month pregnant form and smiled. Ginger was excited; soon there would be a new baby in the house. As she left the sitting room, she forgot to close the door behind her.
Harry practiced his music. There was not much else he could do. With Lucius gone, he was forced to remain in his hidden suite of rooms and couldn’t even visit the library or the gardens. A cage, he thought, a pretty cage but a cage none the less. Was he and his daughter condemned to remain hidden in Malfoy Manor for the rest of their lives?
Harry fingered the heavy silver and emerald ring on his finger. They had married shortly after Harry’s arrival at Malfoy Manor at Lucius’ insistence. Only the groundskeeper and his wife had been in attendance as witnesses and their memories had been modified immediately afterward as a security precaution.
A wedding band to a dark wizard was a symbol of ownership; Harry hoped desperately that it was also a symbol of love. He had agreed to the marriage only for the sake of his unborn daughter. She would face many problems in life for who she was and he did not want to add bastard to the list.
Lucius apparated into the sitting room as Harry was practicing on the piano. Quietly, he reached around and played a few notes. They played a short duet before Harry threw his arms around the white blond wizard.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Lucius peeled off his damp cloak and collapsed into a chair. He looked tired and even paler than he usually looked. “That red-eyed bastard is insane.” He summoned a bottle of scotch and a glass from the cabinet. “He’s annihilated entire families that have absolutely no political influence. He sent the new recruits on raids in little Muggle villages just for practice.”
Lucius downed another shot before setting the glass on the table. Harry sat beside him, wrapping his arms around his lover. “Did he send you?”
“No. He’s stopped sending the Inner Circle, but…He cursed Severus twice with the Crucio … It’s getting harder to convince Voldemort of Severus’ loyalty…”
“Then make him stop going…”
“I can’t, love. Don’t you think I’ve tried? Sev is crippled by his guilt.”
“Then lie to him. Tell him the bastard knows…tell Dumbledore…”
Lucius stood up, helping Harry to his feet and leading him into the bedroom. “Dumbledore won’t care. We’re all just pieces on a Wizard’s Chessboard to Dumbledore and to Voldemort. Just tools, nothing more…”
Draco, hidden in the shadows of the dark hallway crept into the open door to the sitting room in time to see his father lead his lover into the bedroom. Draco had apparated into the manor shortly after Snape had answered Voldemort’s summons; he was searching for answers to his questions.
He spied a cluster of photographs on a side table. Most were of Malfoy ancestors but there were two of a girl playing Quidditch. Lily Evans.
Draco heard a cry from the bedroom followed by a softer sound and then his father’s voice, sounding alarmed. “Did I hurt you? Should I stop?”
“No. Don’t stop. The baby just kicked me in the bladder.”
“Maybe we should…”
Draco stared at the closed bedroom door. Baby? His father had taken a lover - from the sound of the voice - a male lover. He had no problem with that; many wizards were bisexual. His father was still young and his mother had been dead for almost two years. But, this lover was pregnant; why hadn’t his father told him?
A growl came from behind the door. “Damn it Lucius. Stop being so careful. I’m not going to break…”
Lucius voice rumbled, but Draco could not hear the words.
“You’re not going to hurt the baby…just fuck me into the headboard like you used to…”
Draco nearly laughed out loud. By the sounds coming from the bedroom, it sounded as if Lucius was complying with the request. Feeing extremely awkward and intrusive, Draco crept out of the sitting room door.
*~*~*~*
Truth
Draco looked at the Christmas decorations gracing the main floor of Malfoy Manor. The house elves had done a beautiful job, as usual, but the special sparkle his mother always put in was missing.
He had arrived from Hogwarts the evening before to spend the Christmas Holidays with his father. Lucius informed him that there would be a meeting for the Death Eaters Inner Circle on Boxing Day. Lord Voldemort “requested” it be held at Malfoy Manor much to Lucius’ dismay.
Draco climbed to the Owlery to send off the * invitations* for his father. With an early snow, the estate looked like a holiday confection. The white snowy owl was still in residence. On a whim, Draco held out his arm and called “Hedwig?” She looked at him, tilting her head a moment before she fluttered down, landing on his arm. She held out her leg expectantly; he tied a small parchment to it.
“Take that to Harry Potter,” Draco instructed her. She soared out of the Owlery, circled the manor and landed on a windowsill on the third floor of an unused wing of the manor. She tapped on the window; soon the window opened and she flew in.
*~*~*~*
Harry was alarmed. Lucius was at work at the Ministry of Magic and would not return until early that evening. Hedwig was perched on the back of a chair, nibbling on Harry’s leftover breakfast. Harry read the note again; the handwriting did not belong to Lucius.
“Happy Christmas, Harry” was all the note said.
Harry unconsciously let his hand rest on his abdomen. He was nine months pregnant and due early in the year. His wand was tucked into the sleeve of his dressing gown; he had a dagger in the pocket.
Hearing a noise in the hallway outside of his rooms he positioned himself for attack. He could feel the exchange of magic against the wards guarding his rooms.
Draco pushed open the door to the sitting room and found a dagger against his throat and a wand in his ribs.
“Potter?” he asked.
Harry indicated a chair near the fireplace. “Sit.”
Harry respelled the door and watched Draco. Draco set his own wand on the table in front of himself. He couldn’t help staring at Harry’s form.
“Did you send Hedwig?”
Draco nodded.
“Does anyone else know?”
Draco shook his head.
“What are you going to do?
*~*~*~*
Lucius apparated into Harry’s sitting room later that afternoon.
“Harry?” he called softly.
“Hello, Father,” said Draco coldly. “We need to talk.”
*~*~*~*
Sirius Black stared at the parchment he had untied from Hedwig’s leg. Hedwig was currently snacking on a field mouse she had caught outside Sirius’ cave hideout. The animagus was torn; did he dare believe it?”
“Dear Sirius,
I am very sorry that I have not been able to contact you until now. As you can tell, I am not dead and I apologize for letting you think that I was.
I would very much like you to spend Christmas with me. I will explain everything when I see you.
Enclosed are two items. The handkerchief is for Padfoot; I know he knows me by scent and he will know that the scent is fresh. The bottle is a portkey. Twist off the lid to activate it.
If you trust this letter enough, the portkey will bring you to a private library. You will meet someone you least expect but know that I trust him with my life.
I look forward to seeing you, but if you are uncomfortable with this, I will understand. Please send Hedwig back so I know that you at least received this letter.
Remember that I love you and that I always will.
Happy Christmas.
Harry James Potter”
Padfoot sniffed at the handkerchief and at the parchment. It could be a trap, but the scent on both items was that of his eighteen-year-old godson. He knew that Moony would kick him in the head for his stupidity, but Merlin, he needed to see Harry.
He changed back to his human form and combed through his tangled black hair with his fingers; he brushed the dirt from his ragged robes.
“Hedwig,” he called to the snowy owl. “Go home to Harry. I will see you there.”
Sirius clutched a borrowed wand in one hand, closed his eyes, and unscrewed the cap off the bottle. He felt the pull of a hook just beneath his naval as the portkey activated. Stupid Gryffindor courage….
*~*~*~
Wand drawn, Sirius stumbled but kept his footing. He looked around the large library, but saw no one. A slight movement caught his eye and he found himself facing a tiny house elf.
"Sir,” she squeaked. “Ginger will not hurt you. Mr. Black must follow Ginger.”
“Where am I?” Sirius asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.
“Master’s house,” she replied as she led him into a hallway. Wherever he was, the place was huge and the wizards were wealthy.
“Who is Master, Ginger?”
The little elf’s bat ears twitched. “Ginger can not tell you. Master forbids it.”
She led him down the hall to a suite of rooms. She opened the door to a bathroom. A deep bathtub was filling with soapy water. “Master’s Mate thought you would like a bath. Master’s Mate picked you out a change of clothes. Ginger will wait for Mr. Black to be finished.”
Sirius paused, looking at Ginger. She pointed to a basket of basic toiletries and fluffy bath towels. He looked at his wand and the bathtub.
Ginger stood, little hands on hips. “Ginger will protect Mr. Black while he is bathing. Master insists.”
*~*~*~*
Sirius tucked his wand into the sleeve of the expensive black robe he was wearing. It was slightly too large, but it concealed his gaunt frame. Ginger had fashioned his shaggy black hair into a neat braid.
The little elf knocked on the door to a sitting room. She led him in, bowed and disappeared. He could see a slight, raven-haired figure looking out of a window across the room.
“Harry?”
Harry found himself swept up into the arms of his godfather. After holding him tightly for a few minutes, Sirius held him at arm’s length.
“Merlin, Harry. I don’t know whether to kiss you or kill you…”
“I missed you so much,” Harry whispered.
Sirius took in the small wizard dressed in dark green robes. His jaw dropped at the very pregnant silhouette. “Yes, Sirius, it’s a baby…”
Sirius became aware of another presence in the room. Turning, he saw Lucius and Draco Malfoy. Harry caught his hand as he reached for his wand.
“You don’t want to make her an orphan before she’s born, do you?”
*~*~*~*
Lucius bowed as Lord Voldemort apparated into the foyer of Malfoy Manor. Ten other Death Eaters had already assembled in his library, awaiting the arrival of the Dark Lord.
Snape spoke quietly with Avery and Parkinson. They each bowed as Voldemort entered the library with Peter Pettigrew in tow. The Dark Lord was in a very pleasant mood for a change. There were no curses thrown at any of his faithful; with the exception of one raid, the recent raids had been successful. After a short meeting detailing future plans and attack goals, the group moved to the dining room.
Voldemort began discussing the failed raid as the Inner Circle gathered in the dining room. Lucius noticed the Dark Lord glance at Snape several times; an odd flicker in his eyes. His heart sank. Snape had known about the failed raid ahead of time; he had not known about any of the others.
When they had all seated themselves, Lucius summoned the servants to begin serving.
“Lucius,” Voldemort hissed.
“Yes, My Lord?”
“Is your son not joining us? I thought for certain he would be home for the holidays.” Voldemort turned his attention to Snape. “Severus did permit him to come home, didn’t he?”
“Yes, My Lord. Severus was gracious enough to let his apprentice spend a few days with me. However, Draco will not be joining us. He is visiting a relative.”
“A pity.” Lord Voldemort turned his attention to Snape and began to ask all manners of questions about Draco’s apprenticeship. Lucius felt uneasy; the odd flicker in the Dark Lord’s eyes remained as he drew Snape into a detailed conversation.
As the servants began to serve the meal, Voldemort casually mentioned that he had a special entertainment that they all would enjoy planned for after dessert. Lucius saw the eye flick toward Snape again and he knew – Snape was to be the after dinner entertainment.
The guests were just beginning their soup course when a house elf crept into the room and whispered something to Lucius. Lucius folded his napkin and placed it beside his soup plate. “My Lord, please excuse me. My house elf informs me that my groundskeeper has been injured by one of my thestrals. Severus, could you please assist me? You are the only one here with mediwizard training.”
Voldemort gave Lucius a calculating look before he dismissed them. “Very well, Lucius…but don’t keep Severus too long.”
“No, my Lord.” Lucius and Snape bowed and exited the room.
Snape held back until they were out of earshot. “What’s your game, Lucius? You don’t have a thestral.”
Lucius beckoned him into a room down the hall and grabbed a box of floo powder. “It’s the first thing that came to mind…He knows you are the spy. You are the entertainment after dinner.”
“Are you sure?” Snape blanched.
“The raids were an elaborate set up to determine where the leaks were. The only raid you knew about was the only one that failed.”
Lucius tossed the floo powder into the fire, but Snape held back. “Why don’t we just apparate? Floo is so messy.”
“I can’t leave the manor. Draco and my husband are hiding in another wing. They don’t know how to apparate.”
“Husband?” Snape sputtered as Lucius tossed more floo powder into the fireplace, pulled both of them into the flames and said, “Raven’s Room.”
The floo kicked them out in a sitting room in another part of the manor. Snape quickly looked around the room trying to figure out how to defend such a space. As he brushed the soot from his robes, he heard Lucius address one of his house elves.
“Nutmeg, tell the rest of the staff that it’s time. I’ll be raising the wards on this wing in fifteen minutes. I want all of them in safety.”
“Yes, Master,” he replied and disappeared.
Lucius halted Snape’s questions and threw floo powder into the fireplace. “Dumbledore.”
After a moment, Albus Dumbledore’s head appeared in the fireplace. “Lucius?”
“I know Severus told you there was to be a meeting of the Inner Circle this evening. Voldemort knows Sev is the spy – I dragged him out of the meeting under false pretenses, but the story will not hold for long.
“I know this is giving you next to no warning, but Voldemort is in my main dining hall with ten additional Death Eaters. I have placed dis-apparation wards on the main manor. Severus and Draco are with me along with two other wizards. We cannot apparate out of here because one of the wizards is incapacitated and I will not leave him. We will have to defend this wing.”
Lucius went on to give Dumbledore the apparation codes necessary to access Malfoy Manor.
“Albus, I don’t know how long we can hold out. Voldemort will be able to break the disapparation wards in short order.”
“Thank you for your information, Lucius. I will try to rescue you as soon as possible.”
“Just make sure that this time you kill the red-eyed bastard.”
Dumbledore laughed and disappeared.
Snape was staring at Lucius in shock when a pained cry came from another room. Lucius caught the Potion Master’s arm.
“Lucius, what’s…”
“Sev, I’ll explain as we go, but right now I need you to act as a midwife…”
*~*~*~*
Epilogue
Dawn rose December 27th to see fully one third of Malfoy Manor a smoldering ruin. The house elves were atwitter trying to salvage what could be salvaged. Smoke hung over the blackened snow.
Lucius stood beside his ruined piano, holding a singed photograph in his hands. He should feel upset or angry about the destruction of his ancestral home, but he didn’t. The Dark Lord escaped again but many of the Death Eaters were dead. His family was safe. Nothing else mattered.
Albus Dumbledore approached him. Minerva McGonogall and Remus Lupin accompanied him. Lupin was holding a magically sealed cage with a rat trapped inside.
“Lucius,” Dumbledore’e eyes surveyed the sheer damage around him. “I do apologize for the over enthusiasm of the Ministry and it’s Aurors. I am sure compensation can be arranged.”
Lucius waved his hand. “Albus, this does not matter. The man is insane and needs to be stopped. If he is permitted to continue, he will expose our very existence to the Muggle world.”
“Be that as it may, you have openly sided against him and your family is now in grave danger. The magical community owes you a debt of gratitude…”
“The magical community be damned…I did what I did for personal reasons. Would you like to meet them?”
*~*~*~*
Lucius led them down a relatively undamaged hallway of the manor. Albus could feel the remains of strong house elf magic permeating the air. That in itself was odd; house elves rarely involved themselves in wizard battles – unless they were defending children.
Lucius rapped briskly on a door. He barked out a phrase. “Asphodel and wormwood.”
The door opened revealing a sitting room with Snape sleeping stiffly in a chair, wand still clutched in his hand; Draco was asleep beside him, head on his shoulder. Ginger, the house elf, bowed and left the room. Lucius laughed softly.
“I told Ginger to put a sleeping draught in their tea. They were exhausted and would not rest.”
Minerva, mother hen to the core, conjured up blankets to cover the sleeping wizards.
The white blond wizard called softly into an adjoining room. “It’s us, Padfoot.”
They entered a bedroom to find a large black dog curled up beside a cradle. Harry’s pale face was visible in the bed beside them. The dog raised his head, got to his feet and padded over to nudge the rat cage Lupin was holding. He transformed into Sirius Black.
Lucius lent over the bed, kissing Harry’s forehead. The emerald green eyes slowly opened. He reached his thin arms up to hug his husband and drew him into a kiss.
“I’ve brought visitors, Love.”
Lucius helped Harry sit up, propped against a mountain of pillows. He was healing from the emergency cesarean section Snape had performed the evening before. There was a soft, catlike mewing from the cradle.
Lucius gathered the tiny bundle into his arms and faced the stunned Hogwarts professors. He turned the newborn slightly so they could see her face. She was pale, slightly pink, with tufts of strawberry blond hair. She opened one eye, revealing startling emerald green before closing again as she dropped off to sleep.
“Our daughter, Lillith Narcissa Potter-Malfoy. “ Lucius tucked the baby into Harry’s arms and joined him on the bed. Wrapping his arms around them, he looked his visitors in the eye.
“Mine,” he said.
“No,” replied Harry softly. “Ours.”
~ FIN ~