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Here But For the Grace of Merlin	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. We make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Warnings: Angst, OOC, DH spoilers (minus Epilogue), language, violence, self-harm, drinking, slash, smut, non-con, BDSM

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros and some other stupid companies. I make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Author’s Notes: Thanks go to my reviewers! You guys rock! Blood Pops go to Jamie, Sky and Sevfan for this chapter! (For those vampiric cravings~!)

Chapter Ten – Mutually Beneficial Allies

Narcissa watched as the young man before her paled. One moment, Potter was demanding assistance to escape from St. Mungo’s care, and the next, he looked as if he’d take back every kind word he’d said to her and her son. “Do not fear, Mr. Potter,” she said as kindly as possible. “I spoke to your friend, Miss Granger, yesterday, and found that she was perfectly healthy and happy. After that, I ran into your Healer, and spoke to her about the damage the magical backlash could do if left untreated.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Malfoy, but I fail to see where this is going,” the young man said uncomfortably, shuffling away from Draco. “You said you ran into Hermione? And then spoke to my Healer?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa said, letting her lips twitch up into an amused smile. “Healer Sharpe has hypothesized that contact with someone that you have a strong emotional reaction to could help with the depression, anger, and loss of magical control.”

“Oh,” he breathed quietly, looking almost relieved. “That would be helpful.”

“Indeed,” she responded, waiting for the teen to gather his thoughts before she sprung the rest of her plan on him. When he gave her a watery smile, she attacked. “Since that is the case, and my son would be mutually benefited by close approximation to your presence, I would like to extend an invitation for you to come stay with us at Malfoy Manor.”

“Mother,” Draco growled, seeming to finally catch up with what Narcissa was doing and why. “You can’t possibly be serious about this.”

“Oh, but I am, my darling,” she chirped happily, patting her son on his hairless cheek. “While I am aware that Mr. Potter would not have the best memories from his last visit to our home, the two of you have always had strong reactions to the other. It is the best solution all around. It will also spare Mr. Potter from having to deal with his undesirable fame.”

“How is that, Mrs. Malfoy?” Potter asked, his eyes brimming with hope in a way that pulled at Narcissa’s previously closed-off heart. The only other person who’d managed to move her like this was her darling son, who was currently looking as if he was carved from stone.

“While I am aware that you are the most sought after person in the Wizarding world right now, I also know that you do not relish your position in the community. I don’t know if that is stupidity, or just your overwhelming sense of humility that I have witnessed time and again. I also do not care which it is. The Manor has extensive wards that will make it impossible for anyone that we do not want around to have contact with you, the Weasleys included if you like.”

“No offense, Mrs. Malfoy, but the Manor was just attacked by Death Eaters. That doesn’t exactly sound like the safest place for me, of all people.”

She indulged the hapless boy-hero with a sweet smile. “Well, we are lucky that the Ministry has agreed to let Draco redo all of the wards on the Manor then, are we not?”

“They have?” Draco asked breathlessly. She knew Lucius would not have approved of their son showing so much emotion, but since he wasn’t screaming or off sulking, Narcissa allowed it.

“Yes, Draco,” she answered. “I spoke with the Minister and Deputy Weasley myself shortly after you left for rest. I was distracted earlier, or I would have told you before now.” She turned ice-blue eyes on the other teen, and watched as he seemed to sag in relief. “Would you be amenable to that situation, Mr. Potter?”

“Please, call me Harry,” he said. “And yes.” He shot a quick look at Draco before grinning. “If Draco doesn’t mind, that is.”

Both Narcissa and Harry turned to look at the young blond man as he scowled. She nearly crowed in triumph as Draco’s eyes slid closed and he slumped in defeat. “You wouldn’t be the worst houseguest we’ve ever had. And you don’t have a bloody man-eating snake.” He sighed heavily. “Why not…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lucius’s world was made up of pain and confusion. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he wasn’t writhing in excruciating agony on some cold floor, he would have sworn that he’d been Crucio’d by the Dark Lord. Every nerve in his body screamed out in protest as he attempted to sit up from the bed he was lying in, and he was disgruntled to realize that he did not possess the strength to do so.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. White walls with depressingly simple landscapes greeted him, and he knew where he was. ‘St. Mungo’s… Perhaps the Dark Lord tortured me so bad at the last meeting that Narcissa was forced to bring me here? Why did she not consult with Severus before doing so? And where is she? And Draco as well?’

He could hear his wife talking out in the hallway, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least he knew he wasn’t left to fend for himself in this bloody torture house when he was unable to defend himself. However, he made a note to ask his wife exactly what happened that landed him here in the first place. As of that moment, he decided that sleep was probably his best bet. It would allow him the rest that his body was demanding and clear up his befuddled mind as much as possible. When he was awake again, then he could start questioning his wife and heir. Until then, he would allow himself this brief respite from the discomfort that was currently plaguing him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco couldn’t decide whether he wanted to kiss or kill his mother. It was a close thing, to be sure. She’d casually extended an offer to allow Potter into their home, essentially moving a few of his plans for the Boy Who Lived in to play, but with a few steps out of the way. However, she’d failed to consult with him before she did that.

He was Lord of the Manor, not her. It was his decision as to who could come and stay in his home, and she’d disregarded his right to do so. Taking a deep breath, he realized how childish his thoughts were. What did it matter how Potter came to the Manor? Wasn’t the important part that he moved in, even temporarily? Wouldn’t the close contact help him to find out just how much the attraction that was building up between them really was? So, if his Mother was pushing on with her own plans, which just so happened to coincide with his own, did it really matter who extended the invitation?

Steeling himself for the rest of the conversation, he opened his eyes to find Potter staring openly at him. The warm smile that ghosted across the other teen’s face settled in his belly as a spot of sunlight would on his skin. “Yes, Harry?” he asked, trying to figure out what his former rival was thinking.

“Nothing, M-Draco,” he said, looking quickly between Draco and his mother. “When can this happen?”

“Now is hardly the right time, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa said.

“Call me Harry, Mrs. Malfoy,” he replied, flashing the same easy smile he’d given Draco when he said the same thing to him what felt an eternity ago.

“As you wish, Harry,” she responded, smiling briefly. “You must call me Narcissa as well. My suggestion is that you request to speak to your Healer in the morning. Find out all the information that you will need once you leave and when she’d be willing to let you be discharged. After that, find either myself or Draco and we will go from there. However, I must return home so that I can get a room ready for you and things settled for my husband.” She placed a cool kiss on Draco’s cheek before doing the same to Harry. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, Harry.”

“Goodbye, Narcissa,” he said politely as the stately woman left the two teens alone. When she couldn’t be seen anymore, Harry turned to Draco with an anxious look on his face. “Are you really okay with this?”

Draco took a long, hard look at his soon-to-be houseguest. Potter still had heavy bags under his very green eyes, but they were bright, active, and alive. His hospital garments were clinging to his shoulders and chest in a way that his Muggle clothing never had at school. In truth, aside from the fact that he appeared to need much more restful sleep, Potter looked better than Draco could ever remember him being. “Yes,” he answered finally. “It works out for you to come and stay with us, and I owe you a life-debt. I would be remiss in my duties as the Head of the Malfoy family if I denied you safe harbor.”

“Ah, alright…” Harry said stiffly. He was obviously unhappy with something that Draco had said, but Draco couldn’t place what it was. He’d said and done everything properly, according to the position he found himself in. “Well, I’ll talk to you later, Draco.”

Even after Potter had returned to his hospital room, Draco stood there lost in thought. ‘What was it that made his attitude change so quickly?’ He shook his head. He couldn’t figure the other man out, and standing here thinking about it wasn’t going to give him his answer any time soon. He was much better off checking on his father and then finishing up his studying before taking a brief nap. He had a feeling that the next day was going to be long and trying.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry woke up the next day with a heavy head. He’d been avoiding thinking about the way Malfoy’s smooth voice had answered that he was only allowing Harry to come to Malfoy Manor because of a stupid life-debt. He didn’t want the blond to feel indebted to him. He didn’t owe Harry anything for doing something that any decent person would have done.

It was the sound of sniffling that finally forced the black-haired teen to open his eyes. He was greeted with the sight of his best friend, hunched over and sobbing silently into her handkerchief. “’Mione, what’s wrong?” he asked, cringing inwardly at his sleep-scratched voice.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry,” she said between sniffles. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, noticing the way her face paled under her healthy tan. “What did Ron do this time?”

“What makes you think I’m upset over Ron?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled her with a hard stare. “Oh, alright,” she said with a huffy sigh. “I saw him last night, and… he was so angry with you.”

“About what?”

“As far as I can gather, he thinks that you’ve abandoned him,” Hermione answered, wiping her eyes dry and sitting up a little straighter. “He resents the fact that you left the Burrow and then sent his sister a letter to break up with her. That you didn’t answer any mail from the Weasleys after you left. He said that you think you’re too good for them now that you’ve defeated Voldemort.”

Harry snorted in disgust. “That sounds like Ron, I guess. What did you say to him?”

“That he was a stupid, big-headed, unfeeling idiot who didn’t understand a single thing that you’d been through and what you’d been forced to do when we were still relatively naïve.”

Harry gave his friend a small smile and took up the hand closest to him. “I can only guess that he didn’t take that too well.”

“No, not really,” she said with a disgusted sigh. “He told me that now he understood how we’d gotten along without him during the Horcrux hunt, and that he was surprised that we even bothered to act like we were anything but sleazy for deceiving everyone.”

Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief. “You’re telling me that he thinks… you and me? Is he stupid?”

Hermione broke out into nearly hysterical giggles. “I don’t know whether to thank you or hit you for that, Harry.”

“Sorry, ‘Mione, you know I don’t mean it like that,” he said quickly, realizing just how insulting his last question had been.

“Don’t worry about it.” She sighed as she calmed down. “So, what happened after I left the other day?”

“No, you’re not avoiding the rest of this conversation, Hermione. What did he do?”

“Told me to get out of his sight and that he wouldn’t date me if I was the last witch on the face of the planet.”

“Merlin, Weasley is the biggest idiot in England,” Draco said from the doorway. Harry and Hermione turned to stare at him as if he’d grown another head. “Don’t look at me like that. While I may not have the best record at being polite to Granger, even I know that she’s a good witch.”

Hermione looked at Harry with big, shiny eyes. “Do I get to be the Good Witch of the North or the Good Witch of the South?”

He couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t. Between the ridiculous look on his best friend’s face and the puzzled look the blond wore, Harry began laughing, hard and long. Through the sound of his own laughter, he could hear Hermione’s giggles, and that just spurred him along further. After a few minutes of diversion, Harry decided he was going to forgive Draco for his seemingly heartless remarks the night before, as soon as he could stop laughing.

“What?” the blond growled, taking a step into Harry’s hospital room, a blush dusting his pale cheeks and the tips of his ears. However, Harry was forced to ignore his question as his Healer walked in.

“Mister Potter,” she said happily, looking around at the teenagers. “Oh, I thought I would find you alone after what happened the other night with the reporters.” She started as she looked at Hermione. “You must be Miss Granger.” She stuck out her hand. “I am Healer Sharpe.”

“Hello, Healer,” Hermione said as she shook the older woman’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“And you too. Mrs. Malfoy actually recommended that I speak to you regarding my theory on the magical backlash of the Dark Lord’s defeat.”

“Oh,” Hermione squeaked, a blush taking over her cheeks. “That was very nice of her.”

“Yes, it was. And I hope that you’ll be willing to discuss how you’ve been since that time.” She stared at both Harry and Draco. “At a later time, though. Right now, I need to speak with Mr. Potter regarding his condition. Privately.”

“No, they can stay, Healer,” Harry answered. ‘Might as well let the two people who can help me know what’s going on as soon as possible,’ he thought as he looked over at the blond, who appeared to be back to his normally cold, stand-offish personality.

“Oh, well, if you’re sure, Mr. Potter,” she said, shifting her papers nervously. He nodded and she gave him a small smile that transformed her face from plain to sort of pretty. “As I told you a few days ago, your case is rather severe. The only case that is more dangerous would be that of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, but his is so severe because of the memory loss. I have hypothesized that it’s because of his prolonged exposure to the Dark Lord’s magic while he was alive. Healer Mindwillow is of the opinion that it’s because of his prolonged usage of the Dark Arts, but he’s an idiot.”

A scoff from the corner where Draco stood grabbed the attention of everyone in the room, forcing them to look at him. “I’m surprised to hear a medical professional calling another incompetent.”

“Yes, well, forgive my unprofessionalism, but some people shouldn’t go into the art of Healing. Mindwillow is one of them.” She sighed. “I would have taken your father’s case if I hadn’t had Mr. Potter in my care already.”

“That is quite alright, Healer Sharpe,” Draco said. He sounded almost… nice. “Please, continue with Mr. Potter’s assessment.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right,” she said with a blush. “As I was saying, your case is severe, but not irreversible, I hope. If I understand correctly, you’ve been living alone for the last eight months, yes?”

“Well, I have a house-elf, but I don’t think you can really count him. He’s kinda… barmy,” Harry said with a shake of his head. Kreacher had been better since their stay in Grimmauld Place after Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but that wasn’t really saying much. “But, yeah, other than him, I’ve been alone.”

“Ah, well, exposure to people who can evoke strong reactions and emotions from you would be the best remedy for the depression and anger you feel,” the Healer said kindly. “Even if it is someone who you do not like, the nearness of another person allows you to vent those negative traces that He Who Must Not Be Named thrived on.”

“So, you’re saying that I have to be around someone that I love or hate in order to get better?” Harry asked.

“To put it in lay terms, yes, that’s it exactly. Mrs. Malfoy also brought to my attention that Miss Granger has spent a significant amount of time out of the country since last June, and as we can see, she appears to be perfectly fine. I believe that her time away from other affected witches and wizards has sped up her recovery time.” She turned to Hermione with a look of impatient curiosity. “Tell me, Miss Granger, how soon after you left England did you feel less despondent, more cheerful, and better able to face those around you?”

“Well,” Hermione started as she thought about the question. “I went to Australia to be with my parents. When I got there, after the trials, mind you, I can admit that I was angry, depressed and fairly listless.” She paused as she thought some more. “I would have to say that it was probably a week later that I began to feel like my old self. I even began to worry about my N.E.W.T.s.”

Harry laughed at her answer. It just sounded so much like her normal self that he began to feel better himself.

“I’m glad that being surrounded by your friends has already made you easier to talk to,” Healer Sharpe said with a sly smile. “As you can see, Miss Granger’s time away has helped her make a nearly full recovery. I would still like to examine you when we’re done here, Miss Granger.”

“Oh, of course,” Hermione answered promptly.

“If you could please continue, Healer,” Draco said, bringing the other occupants’ attention back to him. “I’m sure that Mr. Potter would like to hear your complete diagnosis and treatment regimen.”

“Oh, y-yes, sorry for that,” she stuttered as she looked at her papers again. “Well, you are suffering from the acute depression and rise in anger levels that are proving to be typical in the last few months. Only they are exaggerated because of the close link you shared with the Dark Lord, of course. That led to your excessive drinking, which led to your accident that landed you here in my care. I’ve already explained to you that you cannot drink for the next seven months or you will damage your liver and kidneys beyond repair. Not even magic can revive dying organs, you know. I have heard that Muggles have perfected something they call organ transplants, but I haven’t read the literature to be up-to-date on their procedures.”

She shook her head sadly as she looked at Harry long and hard. “I cannot stress enough to you, Mr. Potter, how dangerous it would be for you to sink again into a drunken depression. Renal failure is not pretty, nor is it painless. There are potions that can reverse the damage your body has suffered from surviving the Killing Curse twice, but while you are taking them, you must avoid drinking alcohol of any kind. Even Butterbeer is dangerous.” Her eyes flicked down to the sheets of parchment she’d kept a tight hold of since she’d entered the room. “Now, I can give you the name of a very capable Potion maker who would be able to keep up with your regime, but you would have to initiate the contact.”

“It’s not necessary, Healer,” Draco said, stepping towards Harry’s bed with what the darker-haired wizard could only classify as a possessive air. “I will be brewing Mr. Potter’s potions, since he will be staying with my family.”

“Excuse me for saying this, Mr. Malfoy, as I’m sure you are quite capable at brewing potions that you learned at Hogwarts, but these are rather…”

“Healer Sharpe,” Harry cut across the woman as she insulted the blond. “You’re actually talking to the best student in Potions that Professor Snape had in our year. And the second best is sitting on my other side.”

Draco looked as if Harry had struck him for a moment before he leveled his stormy grey eyes on the woman. “Severus Snape was also my godfather and took great care to make sure that I understood proper potions brewing procedures. As I said previously, I will be brewing Mr. Potter’s potions, as per his request.”

“Ah, y-yes, Mr. Malfoy, these are the potions that he will need,” she said as she handed him the prescription. “If you need help…”

“I will consult my godfather’s notes,” Draco said imperiously. “He left me all of his notes in his will and I’m sure they will suffice. If I have further need, I have a vast library in my own home and I’m certain that Granger would only be too glad to help me keep her friend healthy and alive.”

“Of course,” Hermione answered primly. “Harry’s health is very much a priority.” Even though her voice was strong, Harry could tell that she was anxious about having to possibly step foot in Malfoy Manor again. ‘It is the place where Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her. Can’t really blame her for being wary about going there. Especially since she doesn’t really trust Malfoy or his mum.’

“Is there anything else, Healer?” Harry asked once he’d reined in his thoughts.

“Ah, yes, you’ll need to see a Healer once a week for three months to determine how your recovery is going. I would be more than willing to-”

“That won’t be necessary,” Draco said, cutting off the Healer yet again. “My family has a private Healer who would be more than willing to assist with both Mr. Potter and my father. I’m sure you’ve heard of Healer Jacobi?”

“Yes, I have,” she said irritably. “He’s the Healer who first treated your father.”

‘It sounds like she resents the man for being the one to discover the level of Lucius’s condition, instead of having the glory all for herself,’ Harry thought, sharing a look of disgust with Draco. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one who feels that way. Guess we’ll have to talk about this when she leaves.’ He looked at Hermione, who was glaring at him in a way that let him know he’d be explaining a few things to her too.

“Well, Mr. Potter, since I’ve brought you up to date with everything, it’s my duty to inform you that you may leave this afternoon.” She signed a few of the parchments in her hand and placed them on the table by his bed. “You are officially discharged from St. Mungo’s, but you can contact me at any time if you need additional assistance.” And with that speech over, the woman turned on her heel and stomped out of the hospital room.

“Alright, Harry James Potter, you are going to tell me everything that happened while I was away,” Hermione demanded, leveling a death glare at Draco, as the stupid ferret tried to slink out of the room behind the Healer. “Oh, no, you can stay, Malfoy,” she added. “I have some questions for you too.”

TBC

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Here But For the Grace of Merlin