Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Shards Of His Beloved	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 18387 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
To Ruri_Hiwatari : I'm so flattered! Thank you so much for your support! Please, enjoy! :)

To thrnbrooke: Exactly! The fear of rejection is what keeps them apart right now. This is mentioned in today's chapter. Thank you for reviewing! :)

To lilian: Good to know. Thanks!

To Nubia: I'm so grateful for your review! :)

To Grey_Archangel: Please enjoy the next long chapter. And thanks! :)

To redsky: Oh thank you so much! I'm very, very glad!

To astarta: Thank you! :)

To XTonic: Thanks! And I post the new chapter shortly after receiving your review :) . I hope you're going to like it.

A/N: It's time for my yearly business trips. My idiot boss has finally seen reason, so I'm going to my ALL-TIME FAVOURITE travelling destinations which are UK and Norway! I'm ecstatic! Alas, it's just a business trip, but I hope I'll be able to find some time to see my favourite places of interest or something new that I haven't seen before.

Why am I telling you this? Oh, right... The thing is that when I leave home, my stubborn muse refuses to come with me. Some pathetic drafts are the best I can offer. It means that the next chapter will take some more time to write. I can't tell how much time it'll take, but I'll do my best to finish it soon. Don't worry, this story will not be abandoned, because it's stupid to write so many chapters and then just leave it. I don't like to waste my time and efforts like this, so it'll be okay, I promise ;).

I hope today's exceptionally long chapter will earn me your forgiveness.

In other news: I was forced to spend too much time outside during the last several days, and my brain is half-dead right now, so I've probably made more grammatical mistakes than usual. Aaaargh! I hate summers! I. HATE. SUMMERS! I hate even a soft summer heat, and this much sun is infuriating and makes me feel angry and stupid. My brain only functions its best when everything's covered with snow, and refreshing frost makes me happy and inspired. If it won't get any colder, the next chapter will be written in a fridge where I'll lock myself up.

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14. Hurting With You

     Harry's plan worked, so he managed to give Draco the day off in the morning before the blond started doing any chores. Relieved (and too sleepy to feel any shame for what had happened yesterday), Draco returned to bed. Later Scorpius failed to wake him up, though he wasn't really insistent. Harry made breakfast and made sure Scorpius was well-fed and looked after while his Papa was sleeping. As much as Harry missed his own sons, he enjoyed the company of miniature Draco (because Scorpius resembled his father so much). Together they drew animals for some time and then played some table games meant for children.

     His father slept until the very afternoon; however, unfortunately, it hadn't really given him enough rest all the same.

     And then he went shopping together with Scorpius. There was no way to wait any longer, as his son's little feet were really starting to hurt, because his shoes were getting too small for him.

     Draco managed to find the shop with the large choice of children's clothes, and, after about one hour of trying on different pieces of clothes, they bought three children's robes, three button down shirts (two satin and one silk; white, grey and dark-blue), two pairs of trousers (dark-grey and black), one sleeveless pullover, two turtleneck sweaters, two pyjama sets, the winter coat and the one appropriate for autumn or spring. They also bought the pointed hat with the buckle and two pairs of shoes; one pair for cold seasons, the other one for warm; the latter had buckles on their sides, and Scorpius seemed to like them a lot.

     Draco bought everything a tiny bit bigger than necessary, because he didn't know when he would be able to afford any new clothes for his boy next time. Unfortunately, it left Draco himself without any new things, because, in the end, he only had some money left for some undergarments and socks for Scorpius and himself. And that was all he could afford. He had worked so much for this, but it turned out that it hadn't been nearly enough.

     He could've found a cheaper shop, but he just couldn't allow himself buying any cheaper things for his only son... His boy was a Malfoy heir (even if there probably would be nothing to inherit in the end) and Draco couldn't let him wear any low-quality rags, the things he'd bought weren't quite expensive, as it was. It was just a combination of the average price and just as average quality; definitely worse than he would've bought if he had more money. Still, the new clothes looked fine.

     Scorpius enjoyed the shopping, too, and did his best to stand still when Papa was dressing him up, trying clothes on him, even though the boy got bored in the end and his enthusiasm subsided a little.

     The older blond did his best to look happy, but, in fact, he was very sad that he couldn't afford more. It made him feel like he wasn't good enough for his son. But he couldn't, just couldn't, do his job any longer; at least, for now. Constant exhaustion would inevitably lead to serious health problems, and Scorpius needed a healthy parent. His household chores (or the curse itself) often drained him of any extra energy to do anything else, probably except for taking care of his boy.

     What tiny amount of money he had now, he spent for the big glass bottle of pumpkin juice (Scorpius loved it very much), some sweets and... the big, round loaf of white bread. When Scorpius asked where they were going, Draco smiled at him and told him that they were going to take a walk in the park and feed ducks in the lake. That was why he'd bought some bread. Scorpius livened up and smiled happily. Some time ago Albus had vividly told him how his Daddy and he had been feeding ducks, and Al had failed to count them, he simply didn't know such numbers yet, because there'd been so many of them, and Al had had a lot of fun, feeding them bread. Albus had looked impatient to tell Scorpius all the details, and he'd looked so overjoyed that the blond boy had almost regretted that he had refused to go with them (he still wasn't comfortable anywhere outside the house without his Papa). Draco had seen it all on his son's face and had promised himself to fulfil this little and, at first glance, insignificant wish. When it was about his son, nothing was insignificant. What was the better day for making this little wish come true than today when Harry had given Draco the day off?

     Soon they were standing at the lake and throwing the small pieces of bread to the bunch of ducks, that were quacking contentedly, and fluffy little ducklings. Draco found this pastime quite relaxing and stress-relieving, so the sadness he'd felt before was almost gone as he saw his son enjoying himself.

     But then the memory of what had happened last night between Harry and himself forced the remains of his sadness to the back of his mind, replacing it with... Shame? Awkwardness? He still had no coherent thoughts about it. 'Merlin, this is insane...' Among all the other feelings there was a vexation, because the kiss hadn't happened. What would it have felt like? He'd fantasised about it before (mostly when he had been fifteen or so, which sometimes seemed like a lifetime ago, even if he was only twenty three now). Remembering that brief moment when Harry's lower lip had touched his own made him feel blessed and his chest tightened with longing. Had it been just an accident? He couldn't remember himself starting it, but he couldn't remember Harry making a first step, either. If it had been an accident, he definitely wanted another one like that to happen, next time more successful though. Could Draco initiate another 'accident'? No! 'Absolutely not!' How could he? He would be too obvious, and if Harry rejected him, Draco would get hurt. He knew that the other young man wouldn't laugh at him, but he could easily imagine Harry rejecting him softly, apologising and shaking his head. The following years of awkwardness would be unbearable if Draco revealed his feelings, because they would have to face each other every day and... And...

     It was Scorpius who pulled him out of his thoughts, frightening his Papa with the big, acid green caterpillar, giggling and trying to put the fat, disgusting, writhing creature on his shoulder as Draco was sitting on the bench. The boy then threw it away and pitied his parent, hugging him, cooing and apologising. Draco's scolding hadn't seemed to be even noticed. The older blond couldn't really be angry at his son, so he sighed in surrender and hugged him back. And then Scorpius asked some pumpkin juice, and Draco spent good five minutes, trying to uncork the big, heavy bottle. It would've taken a moment if he had his wand, but he was afraid he had already forgotten the feeling of it in his hand...

     Despite everything, they'd really had a good time and after coming home and having lunch, both were sleepy.

     Harry entered the dining room after doing some paperwork and saw that Draco and Scorpius had already come back and eaten their lunch. Draco was drinking tea and his boy was sitting on the chair, trying to fight the drowsiness. His eyes were closing inexorably and he forced them open every time. Still trying to keep his balance on the chair, he stooped forward, looking like a sleepy kitten. Harry smiled at the boy and nodded his silent greeting to Draco, not to disturb the child. Draco nodded back and stood up to clear the table. Harry shook his head, gesturing him that he would take care of it himself. The blond young man gave him a very small smile (rather with his eyes than lips) and carefully picked up his son, who immediately relaxed against him. The small hand weakly touched Draco's cheek. It was the main reason why he had used the potion that prevented facial hair from growing; since Scorpius had been a baby he'd been enjoying touching his Papa's smooth face. Such affectionate touches always made Draco melt. 'What am I going to do without it when you grow up?' he smiled to himself sadly. The hand slid down slowly, as the boy was falling into a deep sleep.

     He carefully changed the sleeping child into one of his new pyjama sets, put him into bed and closed the curtains not to let the sun bother his little one. At the same time, he left one of the windows fully open and the other one (the one closer to Scorpius' bed) slightly ajar. Only then Draco noticed how heavy his own eyelids were. He felt weak and only wanted to lie down, so he changed into pyjama and lay down into his own bed. He relaxed and sighed in relief. Sleep was definitely one of the best things in the world...

     It was already eight-thirty in the evening when he woke up. He immediately thought that it was a pity to waste a day off like this, especially considering how rarely he was fortunate enough to have one, but he knew he needed to compensate for the lack of sleep (even now he was sure he hadn't compensated yet). When he turned on his other side, he saw that Scorpius wasn't in his bed. Most likely, he was downstairs with Harry.

     When Draco finally found enough strength and determination to get up, he groggily went to take a lukewarm shower to clear his head and stir his body.

     Scorpius, indeed, was downstairs with Harry. The boy looked excited, because he'd just been told that Al was going to come back tomorrow and they'd be able to spend the entire week together, since Harry was now rather fit to take care of his boys, so now he and Ginny could go back to their plan to take care of the children in turns. Just as before, one week the boys would be spending with their mother, the next one with their father, and so on.

     Harry and Draco still couldn't make their eyes meet and it was bloody awkward. Each of them thought that it was best to behave like nothing had happened at all, but it wasn't nearly that easy in practice.

     The next day Draco was mostly busy with his chores while Scorpius was playing together with Al, and Harry was trying to do his paperwork and look after all three children at the same time. But then Albus and Scorpius entered the kitchen and Draco's boy asked him a little bit unexpected question:

"Papa, Al asked where mother."

"I have no idea where his mother is," Draco shrugged, looking down at the children. 'And I definitely don't want to know' he added to himself. Really, hadn't the bint firecalled a couple of hours ago to see if her precious imps were doing well?

"No, he ask where my mother," the little blond shook his head. Scorpius himself didn't really look interested in whatever answer he was going to get. He was asking just because Al was curious about it. For some reason, this fact made Draco feel warmth in his chest. His boy looked absolutely content having his one and only parent. Draco was perfectly enough for him.

"You don't have a mother, Scorpius," he replied.

"She dead?" Al asked curiously. It sounded terribly tactless, but he was very young, so it was forgivable so far. And still Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No, Albus Severus, she never existed. Scorpius was born from me and no woman was ever involved," Draco answered. His tone suggested that there wouldn't be any more information from him about it, so the green-eyed boy could take it any way he wanted. Al opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say. He wasn't very informed about childbirth, he was only five, after all, but he'd always thought that one somehow needed a mother and a father to come into this world. That's what he'd been taught, so now he was even more curious and perplexed. He made a mental note to ask his own Daddy about it. Draco practically saw this decision on the boy's face and smiled to himself a bit venomously. 'Good luck, Potter. Try 'bees-and-flowers' talk,' he chuckled to himself. Actually, Al decided not to wait as he wanted to find out everything immediately, so he went to the living room where Harry was still doing his loathsome paperwork.

     Albus came back about ten minutes later and interrupted the talk that Draco had with his son; Scorpius had been telling him about the fairy tale that Harry had read them earlier this day.

"Daddy said let him fink. And then... And then he said you Scowpius' Mummy and Daddy. He said: both." It seemed that the lack of some more details confused him, but he still seemed to be satisfied with the information, taking it as it was. Draco didn't know what to think and wasn't sure he liked this rough explanation that Harry had given, but technically it was true, so he only shrugged.

     This little episode was probably the reason of a smile (almost a covert one) he received from Harry later. There was a hint of teasing in it and Draco rolled his eyes. Actually, their eyes still were unable to meet and it was clear that this situation just had to change one way or another, or to be completely and honestly ignored by both of them. The latter didn't look possible so far, but, perhaps, if it was given more time...

     It seemed his work for this day was never going to end. He wondered if the curse was mocking him, or he was just doing his normal amount of work, but the day off he'd had yesterday was probably making him feel some kind of contrast. Albus and his brother were already asleep, but Scorpius refused to go to bed without his father, so he brought the small, but thick blanket into the kitchen, spread it out on the floor not far from Draco's feet and sat down on it with the book, full of fairy tales and pictures.

     Harry entered the kitchen to have a cup of tea (and to spend some time near Draco). He noticed that Draco looked down at his son with a sigh, as Scorpius retrieved the dummy out of his pocket. Its mouth shield and the handle were made of blue plastic and it had obviously been made in the muggle world. Scorpius had had it with him since he'd been taken from the orphanage, where he, most likely, had taken possession of it. Scorpius rarely used this thing and normally he only used it when nobody saw. Of course, Draco knew about it and now that Harry was in Scorpius' 'circle of trust', the boy felt free to reveal his secret in front of him, too. And today it wasn't the first time Harry saw it.

"Darling, I thought we've already discussed that you're too big for a dummy," Draco said softly. He took it out of his son's hands, but only to wash it; he gave it back quickly, seeing that Scorpius had already started to get upset.

"No, Papa, mine," the boy shook his head. As if to avoid any further discussion, he quickly plugged his mouth up, looking like he was doing something very mature, then opened the book and started to read with the very serious and concentrated look on his face; at the same time the mouth shield and the handle of the dummy were moving up and down slightly, as the boy was sucking on it. Harry tried his best to hold back a chuckle; he found the scene absolutely adorable, even if it probably wasn't quite normal for a child, who would turn five in a few months, to still use a thing like this. Draco let out a sigh of surrender and just kissed the blond head of his son.

"Give me some more time, darling. I hope I'm going to finish my work within an hour or so, and then we'll have a bath with a lot bubbles and foam," he promised. Scorpius smiled around his dummy.

     But for Draco it wasn't that simple to concentrate on his work, because his eyes covertly and disobediently kept turning to Harry's lips, now redder and seemingly fuller after a cup of hot tea. The look of them made Draco gently bit his own lower lip. When he realised that Harry had caught his glance, he did his best not to blush. 'Honestly, stop being a fool. How old are you to react like this?' he scolded himself. His heart disagreed and betrayed him as if deliberately sending more blood to his face.

"How's your leg?" he asked to distract Harry from whatever he might suddenly start thinking.

"Much better, thank you," Harry smiled, feeling almost happy, just like he was every time he got Draco's attention like this (or any scraps of his attention).

     Several days later Harry returned to work and was happy to do something more interesting than paperwork, even though his colleagues made sure he wasn't overstraining himself and his leg.

     It wasn't often that Draco took his son with him when he was going anywhere where they could see (and be seen by) a lot of people, but he was glad that Scorpius was starting to get used to being outside. When there were strangers around, the boy made sure he was holding his father's hand tight, and obviously felt a little uncomfortable. But other than that he seemed, more or less, calm. Draco himself didn't like to be among strangers at all, but he was worried that his boy was sometimes really afraid of most people and saw a threat in them (even when they just smiled at the adorable little boy, walking past him), so he tried to reduce his boy's fears as best as he could.

     Today there weren't a lot of people around, because it was a weekday afternoon. Draco and Scorpius were unhurriedly shopping for food and some other things. It was actually Draco who had asked Harry if he could do it and take a walk with Scorpius at the same time, so it could also be considered as work by the curse.

     They had already bought most of the things from the shopping list and were heading to the last shop to visit, walking down the peaceful alley where they could see no other passers-by so far. There were also no shops or any establishments here. As they were walking, Scorpius was holding Draco's hand and chirping out his answer at his Papa's question what he wanted to eat for lunch and what Gee-gee, his wooden toy winged horse that the boy was currently holding in his hand, 'would like to eat'. Enjoying their walk, conversation and cloudy, but warm, weather, they weren't noticing that they were being followed by two men that started to gradually shorten the distance between Malfoys and themselves. They knew it was the best time to start putting their plan into action, as they were in the deserted alley, where they hardly saw any other people at all.

     Draco was suddenly aware that something was very wrong and the sound of his son's voice became distant and drowned by the feeling of uneasiness and danger. He frowned and sharpened his senses, trying to understand where the hell this feeling had come from. He started turning his face to look back, but he only had moments, which wasn't enough for him to react. The severe pain burnt his middle back and he immediately knew that he was hit by some curse. Gasping at the pain sharply, paralysed with it for a couple of seconds, he instinctively grabbed his son, picked him up and pressed him against his chest before he started running in spite of the pain. The small wooden toy pegasus fell out of the little hand on the cobblestone pavement and was left behind.

     He couldn't allow himself to be stunned with shock right now that he had his son with him. He knew they were being attacked and he knew he couldn't fight back, so running away without looking back was his only option. The fear was pulsing in his ears; he could hardly breathe in panic and his heart had gone berserk in his chest. The small body of his boy was rigid and silent in his arms. Scorpius looked like he was afraid to move at all, but, at the same time, he was clinging onto his Papa tightly and desperately.

     Draco managed to shove his hand into the pocket of his trousers to activate the portkey, given by Harry, the one that he always used to get to the one particular location in wizarding London and then back to Grimmauld Place. It was an actual key (though no one knew what exactly it unlocked), an antique one, made of silver; Harry had enchanted it for Draco and the blond had had it for quite a long time now. Now that it was activated by his touch, the second touch would transport him and his boy to safety... But, unfortunately, the second touch never happened, because Draco's arm and hand were hit by the same curse that had burnt the flesh on his back. It made him cry out. He was in so much pain that he failed to get the burnt hand into the pocket again. He couldn't move his fingers, and when he tried, the pain was so severe that tears ran down his face. Gods, it was an agony!

"Help! Somebody, please, help!" he yelled. Now it wasn't the best time for him to remember that it had never worked for him when he'd been in danger and cried for help. Usually no one could hear him for one reason or another. But maybe now... The pain that the next hit of the curse caused, burning the back of his thigh and knee, misted his vision, as well as his mind. When his thoughts had cleared a little, to his dismay he discovered that he wasn't running away any longer, because he just couldn't, and he found himself on his knees in front of the grey-green stone wall of one of the houses, facing it, just to trap Scorpius between this wall and himself to shield his little boy from all sides.

     One of the attackers kicked Draco's side from behind. The pain made him cry out again, but he didn't stop protecting Scorpius, therefore, didn't change his position. His back was kicked several more times, and then he was hit in the back of his head so hard that he saw white flashes in front of his eyes. 'No, please... We've had enough tribulations for several lives. Please...' Another desperate attempt to get his hurt hand into the pocket, which contained the key to their salvation, failed when the same curse had hit the same arm once again; the attackers were very attentive as if they knew for sure where the portkey was (or probably they really knew it after following and watching him for some time). Draco shrieked and sobbed in pain. The curse hit his back once more, making him bellow, and he was sure the pain would kill him or drive him insane. One more kick on his side and another blow to his head followed immediately, without giving him a break. He was almost sure they were going to kill him.

"Please!.. Not in front of him... Don't... Don't let him see..." he begged, sobbing in pain and pressing Scorpius even harder against his body. The next kick to his side made him hear the unpleasant crunch of his ribs. He kept crying out and sobbing, blinded with pain.

     The attackers didn't say anything at all. They didn't gloat, didn't let him know what, in their opinion, had he done to them to deserve all of it. One of them, or even both of them, kept hitting him with the same curse over and over again. And he had no doubt now that they were going to burn him alive. He couldn't see the damage, but, from what he felt, he could assume that his flesh was burnt deep, deeper than skin, and was probably even charred in some areas. It didn't feel like they were going to stop until they left only a badly burnt corpse... At first the beating was nowhere near as painful as these hexes, but he was being hit where he was burnt and that made it all much more unbearable. Draco knew he wouldn't be able to endure this acute, burning agony much longer. But imagining his little son becoming the victim to the same extreme brutality made him hold on to his consciousness desperately and keep protecting the boy at any cost. Maybe if he held on long enough, someone would hear him screaming and help them, so the attackers wouldn't be able to get to Scorpius and hurt him. But very soon he felt himself losing consciousness, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it from happening...

     Scorpius was stiff and he was slightly shaking in his father's arms without making a sound. He wasn't sure what was really going on, too shocked to even react at his Papa's screams. But then the screaming quietened down and the boy felt his father's body relaxing. Finally, Draco was falling on his side with Scorpius still in his weakened arms. And that was when the shocked boy found out that he could actually move. He felt very confused, nonetheless. He managed to free himself from the weak, unconscious embrace and sit up. He looked at the body of his only parent, who was no longer moving at all, unresponsive and severely hurt. The body looked... lifeless.

     The child's bloodcurdling scream violently tore apart the silence of the normally tranquil district. The scream was so loud and long, so full of pain, terror and rage, that many people were startled, even those, who weren't quite close to the source...

    The day was moderately calm for Harry. His colleagues and he had found and arrested the prostitute that had been spiking the drinks of her clients with sleeping potions to rob them of all the money that they had with them. They'd also arrested the drunken man who had hexed his wife for taking his booze away from him. These were quite regular cases. It wasn't often that something really remarkable happened nowadays. In spite of Harry's occasional longing for some dangerous and exciting adventures, he was glad that nothing really threatened the world (except for the government and some of their atrocious laws).

     He was sitting in his office and trifled with the white feather in his hands, having nothing better to do; even his paperwork had already been done. It was Hedwig's feather, some kind of a lucky charm to him, and he always had it with him when he left home. It always reminded him of his pet, the only pet he'd ever really bonded with. His languid pensiveness was interrupted when one of his colleagues entered, in fact, he almost broke into the office, without knocking. Realising it when it was too late, the young man, just as young as Harry, looked a little embarrassed. He was new here; he'd finished his training only two weeks ago and still didn't feel comfortable around much more experienced aurors. That included Harry, who, in spite of his young age, had finished his training in record time (his status of hero had helped, too, of course, because most tutors had favoured him, which he didn't like, but there was nothing he could had done about it). He'd made an excellent start and become one of the youngest aurors in the history, which was another reason for the other people to look up at him.

"Mister Potter, excuse me, but I've been told to inform you that something's happened to your sl... your charge. We've just found out from our colleagues from the other department. They received someone's firecall and... They are already there," the young auror babbled hurriedly. Harry felt his heart stuck somewhere in his throat, and he practically felt the way his blood rushed away from his face. His mind went blank for a couple of seconds. But the next moment he ran out of his office to find someone who knew what exactly had happened to Draco.

     Harry tried to stay calm and professional as he'd arrived to the crime area. He let his eyes examine everything that was going on around him. For some reason, his eyes immediately spotted two men lying on the ground. Both of them had grey and very dry hair, their skin was also very dry, withered, greyish, as if covered with dust and some ashes, chapped and generally very unhealthy. At the same time, they didn't look like they'd got old and ill because of any natural reasons; one of them had one hand healthy and unwrinkled, as if it belonged to a young man; it looked totally out of place, attached to this strangely drained body. Not only the clothes of both men looked threadbare, but it also seemed like the fabric had been smouldering before. They were alive, judging by the behaviour of the healers that were treating them, but definitely unconscious. There was also a woman, currently examined by the other two healers. She looked like she was shocked, but conscious, nevertheless. Her entire right arm and the sleeve had gone through the same odd incident.

     Everything around looked grey, dusty and lifeless, even the stones made this impression. The area of this strange damage wasn't really large, but it wasn't quite small, either. Harry was slowly approaching the epicentre of it, afraid of what he might see there. The air there was thicker and dustier. He was starting to get worried sick as he saw several aurors near some... barrier; and he could already see the familiar blond head, lying on the ground. He almost ran all the way to the barrier and saw Scorpius pressing himself against the badly hurt body of his unconscious Papa. They both were inside the light-grey, but transparent, cupola-shaped barrier. It wasn't as smooth as an actual cupola, it was warped and it pulsed unevenly. Draco was lying on his side. Harry couldn't see his face, as it was turned to the wall of the house; he also couldn't tell if the blond young man was alive. Scorpius head was pressed against his Papa's shoulder, the face turned away as well, but Harry could see the little boy shaking. He immediately tried to cast several diagnostic spells on Draco, but the barrier didn't let his magic in. One of the aurors from the other department approached him and confirmed that, indeed, no magic could go past the barrier. He also explained what had, most likely, happened: two men had attacked Draco and Scorpius, and, eventually, Scorpius' unintentional magic had exploded and damaged the assailants (those two 'dried' men) severely, draining them of their magic, health and a lot of fluids. Hearing the boy's screams earlier, several people had rushed to see what had happened. One woman had tried to approach the shocked child and help him, but his magic had damaged her as well (it was that same woman with the damaged arm, whom Harry had seen moments ago). No one could do anything. The barrier hurt people even when they were just standing in several meters away from it. Harry had seen Scorpius' magic doing similar things to the plants, and the girl from the orphanage had told him enough about it, but Harry was certain that it had never happened on such a scale before.

     Harry quietly thanked the man for the explanations. He felt like he'd been waited here (once again his fame did something good to him, which wasn't often, and everyone knew that Draco was his slave).

     He made a couple of steps closer to the barrier, but immediately stepped back, as he started to feel himself weakening slowly. His mouth, throat and skin felt slightly dry, so he decided not to tempt fate, especially given that he felt how unstable the emission of this baneful magic was. He could physically feel it in slight waves that clearly meant to keep everyone away. Everything around seemed almost colourless, even the robes of the aurors. Wasting no time, Harry concentrated on the barrier. He scanned it with several spells. It looked like a defending barrier, but could definitely be fatal for anyone who was unwise enough to try to get through it, except for those who were already inside. Scorpius' magic had created it, but Harry could detect something that definitely couldn't belong to Scorpius or Draco. He remembered the attackers; they had been drained of their magic and their energy: both mental and physical (it was a surprise that life had not abandoned their dry bodies yet). The barrier around Scorpius consisted of all that energy, albeit distorted and unhealthy, as well as the boy's own uncontrollable magic. He would've found it very interesting to study if the circumstances were different. Now it was only Draco he cared about, and Scorpius, of course.

     Someone suggested to use Imperius to make the child lower the barrier (The Unforgivables couldn't be shielded, could they?), but Harry talked them out of it. Fortunately, even those who were from the other department decided to leave it all to him. It was probably his demeanour that had convinced him that he was in charge here. They moved away a little, ready to help any moment. They murmured suggestions, but Harry couldn't hear them. Instead, he focused on Scorpius, since this tiny boy was the key to this situation. Harry tried not to look at Draco right now, tried not to pay attention to the blood that could clearly be seen on his fair hair; tried not to think why he couldn't see him moving or breathing.

"Scorpius, can you hear me?" he asked softly, as softly as the distance allowed him, so the child could hear him anyway. The boy kept shaking and didn't react. Harry couldn't decide if it was the shock or the barrier also blocked all possible sounds from the outside. But he wasn't going to give up anyway.

     Scorpius felt really shaken up, but he knew he was protected by... 'something'. He didn't know what it was, but he knew that it was going to keep him and his Papa safe. Strangers only caused pain, so he wanted to stay with his Papa, just two of them, together in this small space, surrounded by that 'something'. They didn't need anything or anyone else at all. All strangers wanted to hurt and separate them. Back in the orphanage they'd told him that he was evil, that he could hurt people. He didn't know how, but, apparently, he could do all those things. Everyone made Papa cry. He'd show them! Anyone who dared to approach them was going to be really, really hurt! Some woman earlier had pretended to be kind and eager to help; but he knew she'd just wanted to gain his trust and hurt him or Papa, and she'd paid for it dearly. He'd hurt her first and he'd hurt her enough to keep her away; and he would hurt everybody who currently tried to approach. After all, he was Satan; the older children in the orphanage had certainly called him that for a reason, hadn't they? A couple of times they had been beating this knowledge into him; literally. And now a good deal of pain was waiting for anyone who tried to come closer. He knew that strangers were there. Why couldn't they just leave him and Papa alone?! Through the veil of his shock he could hear them and even feel them trying to touch 'something', to examine it, but he felt safe here with his parent.

"Scorpius. Hey... Look at me, boy. Come on. It's me, Harry. Can you hear me?" Harry kept trying. It took some more time and some more soft words to make the boy react. And then Scorpius raised his head from his father's shoulder and looked in Harry's direction. His small, ashen-pale face was almost blank and it showed only one emotion - the desire to be left alone. Harry, however, didn't stop talking softly, feeling that Scorpius wasn't even recognising him right now; he looked disoriented. Several more minutes later the boy, finally, realised who was talking to him, but he wasn't sure if it made any difference. He'd trusted Mister Potter before, he was Al's father, after all, but now he couldn't be sure of anything at all. Eventually, the boy sat up and was looking at Harry slightly warily, but, mostly, indifferently. Harry was fine even with this little progress. He had to establish a contact with this little boy; it was the only way to solve the problem peacefully. Any radical magical interference would hurt Scorpius, at the very least, mentally. Harry wasn't about to let it happen.

"It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore," he assured. But he immediately felt that Scorpius didn't react to these words well. The pernicious waves of magic became a little stormier and Harry was forced to make another step back. But then he kneeled to look less intimidating (in case Scorpius really thought he was in any way intimidating now that the boy was shocked).

"Okay... Could you, please, try to let me in? Could you do that for me?" he tried again. Scorpius was looking down and there was no reaction. "Your Papa needs help. He needs a healer," Harry continued gently. The boy slightly shook his head in disagreement without looking up. "He does. He needs help. He might get worse if you don't let someone help him," Harry felt like a moron now. He didn't want to sound frightening and threatening (in fact he sounded soft, but he wasn't happy about his own choice of words). He had to do something, anything to make Scorpius let him in. Harry bit his lip thoughtfully, trying to find a way to explain the little boy that said boy was unknowingly holding his father hostage. "Look... You know I'm not going to hurt him, don't you? You know me. You know I wouldn't hurt either of you. Could you just let me in, so I can examine him?" And, again, no reaction. "Please, let me in. Just me alone, I promise."

"I can't..." Scorpius finally mouthed, but Harry saw it, regardless. "How?" the boy whispered. Oh, yes, another problem. How Harry could explain it? It was an unintentional magic, therefore, it couldn't be controlled; and even if it could be controlled, Scorpius was too little to be able to do anything about it and to even have a slightest idea how it worked. All Harry could do was somehow convince Scorpius to stop being scared and overprotective. Easier said than done... Once again Harry forced himself not to look at Draco, even though his anxious heart was bleeding right now and he was feeling a cold weight in his stomach.

"Just... Just try to relax and I'll try to move closer. I know you don't want to hurt me. I know... I'm going to take both of you home: you and your Papa. Al's going to be so glad to see you. He misses you," he said. But even these words didn't work. Nothing was changing.

"Can't..." Scorpius whispered again. Harry had to read his lips almost every time the boy said something, because it was too quiet for him to hear from such a distance.

"Okay... Then could you do something for me? Put your fingers on your Papa's neck like this." On his own neck Harry showed where the pulse was most palpable. He made sure Scorpius saw it. The boy actually complied and put his little hand on his father's neck (slightly covered with blood). "A little closer to his chin," Harry guided. "Good... Now put your other hand on his wrist. Here, look at me... Just like this... Okay, now close your eyes, try to relax and tell me if you can feel anything against your fingers. Pulsation. Can you feel it? Take your time..." Harry knew he was getting desperate, but he needed to know if Draco was alive. He also hoped that it would distract Scorpius and make him lower his emotional barriers and, as a result, probably, the magical one, too.

"I don't know..." Scorpius whimpered. The child was too shaken up and he was shivering all over, so no wonder he couldn't feel anything. Harry, with all his heart, hoped that it was, indeed, the case, not an actual absence of signs of life. The boy hardly understood what it all meant, especially in his current state, but he was outwardly starting to look very upset, which could entail even more deplorable consequences.

"It's all right, don't be afraid. Now could you press your cheek to his face? But not too hard. Let his nose touch your cheek slightly," Harry told him. Once again the boy complied, but very uncertainly. "That's right. Can you feel him breathing? It should be warm against your cheek. Can you feel it?"

"I don't know..." Scorpius shook his head, already starting to weep. "Go away..." he whimpered. He was just sitting there on the ground, looking scared and very distressed. Harry bit his lip again. The potential decision came to him suddenly, and he knew he couldn't waste any more time. If he'd failed to make Scorpius trust him right now, there was only one person that could possibly reach out to him; and that person was one of Harry's own sons.

"Very well. But I'll be right back, Scorp, okay?" he replied, knowing that there was no point in waiting for an answer, so he left, asking everyone else to stay away and not to try anything. He apparated to the Burrow and practically ran into the house. Promising Molly and Ginny that he would explain everything later, he took Al in his arms and apparated back to where Al's little friend was scared and alone. He was going to explain Albus some things, so his son wouldn't get scared, too, because, frankly, the place didn't look like any child belonged here, even if the incident itself had been created by the child. But before he could talk to Al, he was distracted by some auror who said that they'd found out who had attacked Draco and Scorpius. Harry insisted that they should talk about it later, because there were more important things to attend to right now. He could swear he'd got distracted just for a moment, but when he looked down, he saw that Albus wasn't standing next to him any longer. Instead, the little boy, oblivious of what was going on, was running to his friend, as he'd obviously spotted him sitting on the ground not really far away.

"No, Al, stop right now! Don't!" Harry yelled. He ran after his son and nearly had a heart attack and fainted as he saw his child running past the intimidating barrier. Harry thought it was the end... He closed his eyes and was afraid to open them again. But then he heard his son saying something and immediately opened his eyes just to see Albus... unharmed, standing near Scorpius. Harry sighed in relief, slightly shocked now, so he needed a minute to calm down. Then he came closer, as close as this harmful magic allowed him, because, it seemed, only Albus could go inside without being hurt or killed. Harry definitely wasn't allowed to do the same thing, and for him even trying would've been suicidal.

"Scowpius... Why you crying? Why your Daddy on ground?" Albus asked gently. He sat down right in front of his blond friend. He didn't understand what was going on, other than that Draco and Scorpius were somehow hurt, but a minute or so later he just hugged crying and shaking Scorpius, who couldn't answer anything coherent. How could he answer? How could he explain? He was just a tiny boy, who was crying his heart out, grief-stricken and hurt.

     At first Harry was looking at the children incredulously, still finding it hard to believe that Al had just entered Scorpius' little sanctuary, just like that, without any difficulties, but then he was starting to watch them very attentively. He knew that intentionally Scorpius would never hurt Draco or Al, or probably anybody at all, but the blond boy was very stressed, so there was no guarantee that his magic wouldn't turn against those who weren't a threat. Harry felt uneasy, remembering what had happened to Ariana Dumbledore, professor Dumbledore's sister, who had been so traumatised when she'd been a child that her magic had become unstable and, eventually, it had all but exploded, due to the stress, and killed her own mother. It was a horrifying tragedy that had ruined the girl's very short life. And if anything like that happened to Scorpius after so much woe that he'd already endured, which no child should ever experience, what would happen to him? Harry was carefully looking at Al to make sure the uncontrollable magic wasn't hurting him in any way. He couldn't see any discomfort so far, even though, like everything else here, his boy looked almost colourless.

     About twenty minutes had passed. Al was still trying to make his friend talk, but Scorpius only sobbed pitifully.

"You cold," Albus said as he'd taken Scorpius hand in his. One of the aurors, who'd heard it, gave the dark-blue coat to Harry, who stood closer than anyone else.

"Here, take this," Harry said, throwing the coat to them, so they could wrap themselves in it; it wasn't good that they both were sitting right on the cobblestone pavement. But, to Harry's awe and amazement (and some terror, too), the coat, once it had entered the barrier, decayed almost instantly and turned into dark dust and ash, though it hadn't gone through any burning. This cloud of ash just flew past the boys, making them shut their eyes tight for several moments as it brushed their small bodies and faces before scattering in the air. Albus looked a little more confused after that, and Scorpius just kept crying, albeit quieter now. One of the aurors behind Harry emitted an incredulous whistle at what had just happened.

     Harry forced himself to be calm and patient. 'Draco, please, hold on...' And then, minutes later, he saw that Scorpius started to whisper something to Al. The blond boy was sill hiccupping and tears were still streaming down his face, but he looked more coherent now. Two boys were whispering something to each other, but Harry couldn't hear them.

"Daddy, Scowpius want strangers go away. He say they want take his Daddy away. Tell them get out. They scare him," Albus finally said.

   It didn't take long for Harry to do what was told and ask the other aurors and all the gawkers to move as far away as possible, so Scorpius wouldn't be able to see them at all. Some didn't take it too well, but no one really argued. And when he returned to the barrier, he saw how tired Scorpius looked now. He was still weeping, though.

"Let's go home, Scowpius. I want play and sweets," Al whined. Harry almost smiled at this, wondering if there was any situation when his boy wasn't thinking about sweets. But right now the dark-haired man was a bit overwhelmed and too concerned about Draco to be anywhere near being cheerful.

"Go..." Scorpius sighed.

"I want go wif you," Albus insisted.

"Can't..." the blond boy whimpered. But Harry started to notice that the barrier had already become thinner and the waves of magic could hardly be felt where he was standing.

"We get up and go," Al shrugged impatiently, as he didn't realise what kept his friend from leaving this place.

"Papa hurted," Scorpius wailed quietly.

"Please, let me help him," Harry tried again. "We'll go home; just four of us. We're going to be safe, I promise. Okay? Scorpius..."

"Okay..." the blond child mouthed with his pale, trembling lips. The barrier was becoming even thinner. Gradually it was becoming less and less visible and almost dissolved when Scorpius had got up with effort, looking lost and unsteady.

"Come here..." Harry whispered and kneeled. Scorpius approached him hesitantly and Harry wrapped his arms around the little boy. Finally, Harry could control something, because now that nothing was blocking his magic, he could help. And he knew what to do; he'd been taught to deal with things like this, after all, it had been a part of his auror training. He was rubbing Scorpius' back, sometimes making soothing noises, as the child was crying and calling his Papa, but, at the same time, Harry cast the long, non-verbal spell that allowed him to pacify and slowly and softly ground the little boy's magic. If what he was doing was possible to compare with something physical, it would've looked akin to reducing some painful inflammation.

     Several minutes later Scorpius' magic was calm, thanks to Harry, but emotionally he wasn't nearly as calm. His body was shaking in the man's arms and to Harry the boy seemed even smaller now. Meanwhile, as he kept holding the child, he was able to cast several diagnostic spells on Draco. His magic could easily go through the torn, hardly visible remains of the barrier, which meant it was safe to approach the older blond. Diagnostic spells indicated that Draco was alive, even though his pulse wasn't really strong. 'Thank Merlin! Oh, love...' However, Harry also found out that a couple of Draco's ribs were damaged (but not really broken) and he had a head trauma, a concussion, quite possibly, and several haematomas, including the big one on the side of his head. The skin on his back, on the back of his thighs, arms and neck was overheated, for some reason. Harry couldn't tell why, and his diagnostic spells failed to identify the curse or whatever it was that had created this kind of reaction. It was Draco's head that made Harry worry the most. The skin on back of the blond head was injured and it was bleeding slightly, but, fortunately, only the skin was damaged; however, there still was damage inside, and Harry couldn't tell if it was fraught with serious consequences, even if the trauma didn't seem very serious now.

     Very carefully Harry apparated all four of them to Grimmauld Place and immediately placed the unconscious body of his beloved on the bed in his room, leaving Al to look after shaking and crying Scorpius in the nursery. Getting a healer was the next thing to do, which Harry did without delay. For some reason, he'd made a spontaneous decision to firecall Heliodorus Corundum, who was a family healer of Malfoys and, as Harry was positive, still remained very loyal to them. The healer flooed in immediately, once Harry had told him that Draco needed help. The man hadn't changed at all since the last time Harry had seen him to discuss Scorpius, a little less than a year ago. Somehow, Harry felt that he could relax a little, because his love was in capable hands now. But he was still there in case the mediwizard needed him, even though he wasn't sure he'd be very useful in that case, since he was failing to stop his hands from shaking nervously.

     Draco was cleaned up and thoroughly examined. The healer confirmed the results of Harry's own diagnostic spells, though Corundum saw much more specific details of the damage (he wasn't a healer for nothing, was he?). The mediwizard was more informative after performing the most urgent healing spells, required by the situation.

"And what about his skin? It looks so inflamed," Harry said quietly, looking at the blond, lying on his stomach on the bed, still unconscious and stripped down to his undergarment, so Harry could see most outer damage, which were the marks of beating that, most likely, would soon turn into rather severe bruises, and aforementioned overheated skin on the back of Draco's body. It was pink and in some areas looked a little redder with red capillary nets slightly visible through the skin. Draco's right hand and forearm looked especially painful.

"Mister Malfoy was repeatedly hit with quite a nasty hex. It burns flesh, but the physical damage is not nearly as terrible as the pain that a victim feels. Similar to Cruciatus, it's much more about tactile sensations than an actual harm. It means it's going to heal rather soon and he needs nothing more than cold healing ointments to treat light burns caused by hot water or hot steam," the healer explained.

"I see. What about the other damage?"

"Mister Malfoy's cracked and bruised ribs won't take too long to heal, as well as the bruised lung. The concussion worries me the most, but I'm sure there's nothing too serious. The bruises will become much larger and more prominent by tomorrow, but it's the least thing to be concerned about."

"And... How concerned should we be?" Harry asked carefully. He wanted to be absolutely sure that Draco was going to be all right. He wanted to be convinced that his love wasn't in any danger now.

"With the right treatment he'll be fine in about a week, but he'll possibly have headaches for a little bit longer."

     The healer applied the nacreous white salve on Draco's burns, then used quite a generous amount of some other ointment on the area of the blonde's cracked ribs and bruised lung. Soon Draco's chest was tightly bandaged. With the help of a spell the mediwizard made his unconscious patient swallow a full tablespoon of some khaki-green, turbid infusion, which smelled like clove. When the other potion was administered the same way, Harry helped the healer to put Draco's pyjamas on him. He saw Draco slightly shifting, but the blond didn't wake up. They let him rest, leaving him lying on his stomach, because his front hadn't taken any damage to aggravate. Now it was time to find out how Scorpius was.

     Shaking and sobbing quietly, the boy was sitting on the floor. Al was angry at him for not talking to him, for being... like this. He couldn't understand how terribly his blond friend was hurt and where exactly he was hurting, and Scorpius did nothing to let him understand, as if keeping it secret from him. So Albus was pouting, sitting in the armchair and sometimes casting angry and upset glances at his inconsolably sobbing friend. When Harry and the healer entered the room, Scorpius saw them and only shrivelled up a little bit more, resigning to his inevitable fate, which included being taken away, forever; to hell maybe (a place of which he knew very little, but quite enough to know that it was the end of him and that he belonged there), or back to the orphanage to be lonely and bullied again. Well, they'd told him he wouldn't end well...

     Harry knew that the boy couldn't possibly remember their family healer who had helped him to come into this world and then visited a few times when Scorpius had been very little, so Corundum was a stranger, and Scorpius considered him dangerous. Harry slowly approached the boy and picked him up.

"Don't be afraid. This is a healer, your family healer. He's only here to make sure you are not hurt. Will you let him examine you? I'll be here with you," Harry promised. Scorpius didn't react well and even tried to wriggle out of his arms weakly. Harry imagined that right now, albeit subdued, the boy's magic wouldn't react well even on diagnostic spells, though another disaster surely wouldn't happen; he'd taken care of it. Harry was biting his lip thoughtfully. He tried more soothing words, but he saw the healer shaking his head negatively, but calmly, so Harry stopped insisting. He understood what the mediwizard didn't say out loud. Scorpius was very exhausted after such a powerful emission of his magic. He was already very weak and sleepy, so, in order to not cause him any additional distress, it was wiser to let him fall asleep first, and only then let the healer examine him. As the mediwizard saw understanding on Harry's face, he left the room, so Scorpius wouldn't see him. The man headed back to Draco's room to see what else he could do for his patient while his little son was being tried to calm down.

     Harry went to Al's room, accompanied by Al himself, with Scorpius in his arms. Soon he was rocking the blond child, soothing him gently. He asked his son to close all the curtains, which Al did and sat down on a chair, but he kept looking at his Daddy and Scorpius without making a noise.

     After some time, the small body in Harry's arms, wrapped up in a blanket, started to relax and go limp little by little, and then the spasmodic breathing was starting to become even and Scorpius' heavy eyelids were closing inexorably. The blanket was light, not to let the boy feel any excessive heat. It was rather meant to make him feel safe inside the cocoon that it created. Several times, on the verge of falling asleep, the little body flinched, but then it stopped and Harry sighed in relief, still rocking the child slightly. When he was sure that Scorpius was sleeping soundly, he wiped his wet pink cheeks with a handkerchief, carefully changed the child into pyjamas, put him into Al's bed and went to call the healer.

     The mediwizard examined the sleeping boy and assured that Scorpius wasn't physically hurt (except for extreme exhaustion), and his magic was calm, so it was very unlikely that it was going to lash out any time soon even if Scorpius would be scared or upset. Harry once again sighed in relief, though he was certain he probably needed a Calming Draught or something like that right now.

     As the mediwizard had left after promising to visit soon, concerned Molly flooed in and found out what had happened (the short version of it); she wanted to take Al back to the Burrow to his younger brother until the next day, but Al refused to leave. "Daddy say fwends help eachofa," he told her. He wasn't angry with Scorpius any longer. Molly smiled proudly at her grandson and left without him.

     The next morning Draco and Scorpius were still both asleep, but the healer, who had visited once again very early in the morning, warned that Scorpius had exhausted himself so much that he would be sleeping for quite a long time and Harry shouldn't be worried about it. What of Draco, the mediwizard expected him to wake up any moment. Harry had managed to sleep for about three hours after the healer's visit, because he hadn't slept last night at all; his mind was too burdened with concern. And when he woke up, he immediately headed to Al's room. As he entered silently, he saw that both little boys were sleeping just the way he'd left them; Scorpius was sleeping near the wall, facing it, and Al was lying almost on the edge of the bed, his face turned to the door. Harry touched his son's unruly hair fondly and then touched Scorpius' forehead. The blond boy slept just as peacefully as Albus, and Harry let them be, leaving the way he had entered - silently.

     Draco was sleeping as well, and Harry only noticed that some time in the morning the blond had half turned from his prone position onto his left side, since turning onto his right one would've caused him a good deal of pain even in his sleep because of his hurt ribs and lung. Harry approached him and kneeled at the bed, their faces were separated by mere centimetres. He was looking at the other young man's relaxed features and at the bruise on the side of this beautiful face. The bruise covered Draco's cheekbone and temple and made his eyelid look slightly deformed and swollen. Harry carefully caressed it with his fingertips, willing this bruise and all the other damage to heal soon. After that he was just looking at his love for several more minutes, enjoying the serenity of the moment, his mind cleared of thoughts and all the tension. And then he reluctantly left Draco's side to take a shower, make breakfast and several firecalls.

     Draco's blurry dreams were full of him burning alive; at first he was just licked by the tongues of the white flames, and then he was enveloped in the fire entirely. His flesh was burning, and burning, and burning... He woke up with the hazy feeling of dread, though he wasn't sure he'd woken up yet. His heart was beating fast, he desperately tried to move, but his body felt heavy; his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and his limbs felt as if they were leaden. As soon as some control had returned to his body, Draco panicked. He didn't know what was going on, where he was and he still couldn't think, but he felt a strong urge to run and hide. Unfortunately, his body was weak and very sore, so it wasn't easy to even get up, but then he remembered his son, and the chaotic memories of the attack flooded his mind. Once he'd got out of the bed and rushed to the door (he wasn't sure where he was going), his legs gave out immediately and he collapsed, hitting the floor with a dull thud. The agony pierced the right side of his chest.

     Harry wasn't far away from Draco's room when the spell that he'd placed on the blonde's bed earlier, alerted him that Draco had woken up. Harry quickly headed to him to make sure he was all right. He wasn't. Harry realised it as soon as he'd entered the room. Draco was getting up off the floor with a great effort, looking terribly disoriented.

"It's all right. You should lie down," Harry said gently. Draco looked very wary, despite haziness, and it was probably not the best idea to approach him right now, so Harry tried to calm him down verbally at first. It wasn't working. Draco was moving to the door stubbornly though it obviously was very difficult and painful for him to walk. He ended up falling on his knees right in front of Harry, who immediately supported him under his armpits. At first there were incoherent words of panic and gasps for breath, but soon Draco was hyperventilating and the tears started to roll down his face.

"Scorp is okay! He's okay. You're both safe," Harry promised again and again to stop the panic. "He's sleeping in Al's room. Al is looking after him. Scorpius wasn't hurt." 'Wasn't hurt physically...' he added to himself. He felt Draco calming down and saw some clarity in his eyes. "Okay... You have a concussion, so you have to lie down. Let me help you." Harry thought he saw a small nod. Carefully, he led Draco back to the bed, making sure he wasn't hurting him in the process, and helped him to lie down on his left side. Draco moaned, feeling as if the room was spinning around and his head hurt so much he wanted to vomit.

"Rest," Harry said softly. "I'll firecall your healer, then we'll talk, when you feel like it, and I'll bring Scorpius here if you want. Okay?"

"Fine..." Draco whispered and closed his eyes. He felt a reassuring hand touching his shoulder gently and then this hand retreated. Draco heard the withdrawing footsteps and finally the soft sound of the closing door.

     Draco was a bit surprised to see his family healer again, though he was hardly in the mood for pleasantries. The mediwizard examined him, gave him a few potions and applied some cold salve on his burns, which immediately helped to soothe his skin. To Draco's relief the burns weren't nearly as severe as he'd expected; he'd been sure his body was charred.

     The man left after telling Draco to stay in bed. Not that Draco minded.

     He napped for a few hours and when he opened his eyes, he saw Harry sitting at his bed. The dark-haired man was looking back at him softly.

"What happened?" Draco asked quietly. Harry was silent and thoughtful for several seconds, but then he sighed and told him everything that had happened after the blond had lost consciousness from all the pain and damage. The dark-haired man told the whole truth about Scorpius' uncontrollable emission of magic, and how Al and Harry had managed to end the disaster. When he finished talking, Draco said nothing, wandering deep in his thoughts. Harry waited patiently at first, but then decided to give the blond some more information.

"I think I've mentioned that when we found Scorpius in that muggle orphanage, the woman responsible for Scorpius' disappearance was arrested. Those two who attacked you yesterday were her sons. They are in Saint Mungo's now. From what they've been trying to say in their condition... Well, they assert that they weren't going to hurt Scorpius; just you. And they swear they weren't going to kill you. The idiots blame you for getting their mother imprisoned. Anyway... They are not going to die, that's for sure. And maybe healers will be able to help them to recover, to some extent, not fully, as I was told. In that case they'll be arrested and jailed," he explained. Draco nodded thoughtfully, but then his eyes met Harry's.

"Are you going to arrest everyone who hurts me?.." he asked curiously, but tiredly, at the same time. A very weak smile appeared on his face.

"Yes. Every single person," Harry replied seriously, but, suddenly, the realisation hit him and his eyes widened as he was looking at the blond with surprise. "Wait... You know?" he gasped. Draco was calm. He shrugged slightly.

"You and your ex-wife argued too loud and she collected papers," he slurred. "A few days before she left you, you two were especially loud and informative."

"Right..." Harry lowered his eyes. "Are you angry? You're not about to raise hell, are you?" He tried his best to hold back a smile.

"I don't know yet," Draco answered with another small smile of his own. The smile gradually turned melancholic and then it all but disappeared without a trace. He couldn't stop thinking how his son would cope with what had happened to them, and how much it had traumatised him. Had it scarred him for life? What consequences Draco should expect now? Was all the work to make his boy's life normal futile now, after such an ordeal? Had they made a huge step back? How huge?

"Do you want me to bring Scorpius here?" Harry asked suddenly, and Draco flinched, wondering if Harry had managed to read his mind merely by the look of his face.

"Yes..." he replied uncertainly. He wanted Scorpius to sleep as long as he needed without disturbing him, and he wasn't sure he wanted his son to see him like this, with all his bruises and such, but he needed him right now, wanted to make sure his son was unharmed, at least, physically, even though he knew that Harry wouldn't lie about it. Harry nodded and left.

     He was surprised that Al was keeping his promise and wasn't disturbing the blond boy's sleep. He was quietly playing in his room while his friend was sleeping peacefully, just as he'd promised his Daddy. The only thing he'd done was surrounding sleeping Scorpius with a lot of stuffed toys. Harry wondered if they meant to guard Scorpius' sleep or just to keep him company. He didn't ask his son, just smiled at him before carefully picking Scorpius up off the bed. The small body shifted a little and the boy sighed, half-opening his drowsy eyes.

"Shh... Go back to sleep," Harry whispered, rocking him gently. Scorpius closed his eyes again and quickly dropped off. Harry carried him to Draco's room, shushing Al's protests. When he entered, he saw that Draco seemed to had dozed off lightly. But, as Harry approached the bed, the eyes of the older Malfoy opened slightly and then opened fully when he saw his sleeping son in Harry's arms. The dark-haired man put the child next to his father. Draco gently traced his fingertips over the side of his son's face.

"Do you need anything?" Harry whispered. Draco shook his head negatively without looking away from his son's face.

"I see the roles have reversed. Just when your leg has healed..." Draco mumbled quietly.

"Don't worry, you're going to be okay soon. Sleep some more," Harry suggested softly. It was pretty tempting, and Draco closed his tired eyes. He wanted to sleep off his headache and the nausea he was feeling, not to mention the other unpleasant things, albeit eased by the pain-relieving potion; but, in spite of it, it was still tricky to find a comfortable position and still painful to even take deep breaths. 'Oh, right... I heard the crack of my ribs when that bastard kicked my side...' With this unhappy thought Draco slipped into slumber.

     He didn't know for how long he had been sleeping, but his son's touch woke him up. He opened his eyes and saw Scorpius' eyes full of tears right in front of him. Once again the boy touched the bruised side of Draco's face lightly. The older blond was sure he looked horrendous, so it was no surprise that his little boy was so upset. He smiled at his son gently in attempt to assure him that everything was going to be fine, but he suddenly doubted that the smile was anywhere near reassuring on a face like this.

"It'll heal," he promised quietly and embraced Scorpius, pressing him to his chest and holding him as tight as his hurt body allowed. "We'll be all right now..." he whispered. He felt his boy shaking his head in disagreement against his chest and Draco's heart clenched. "For how long have you been awake? You must be hungry," he said, changing the topic. He received another wordless 'no'. "Still tired?" This time he felt a nod. Scorpius definitely wasn't in the mood for saying anything at all, so Draco decided not to pester him any longer. He was secretly in panic, afraid that his son had retreated into himself irreversibly. Was it possible to bring him out of his shell this time? And if it was, would it be harder than after the orphanage? It hadn't even been fully achieved before the attack, probably had been far from it.

     Scorpius had been sheltered in his Papa's embrace for more than an hour. Neither of them had said a word during this time, but then Draco heard some barely audible whisper that wasn't loud enough for him to understand.

"What did you say, darling?" he asked and brought his face closer to his boy's.

"I losted Gee-gee..." Scorpius whispered again, without looking back. Draco smiled sadly.

"That's all right, I'll buy you a new one. Would you like to have a gee-gee with wings again? Or with a horn? How about a one with a fish tail?" he asked. Maybe it was a chance to build up a conversation?

"All..." Scorpius murmured, once again hardly audible.

"All of them?" Draco asked. He felt his son's nod. "All right, all of them, then..." he agreed and in his thoughts he calculated how many cheap potions he would have to brew to make this little wish come true (of course, when he would be fit enough for brewing or for anything else at all, since even walking to the bathroom had proved to be a hard task). All right, it wasn't too expensive... And even if it was, he wanted his son to be happy, so it didn't matter if Draco would have to exhaust himself with work again. "Anything for you," he whispered and felt Scorpius pressing himself even harder against his chest. Draco tried his best not to let his son realise that he was crying mutely. His tears were soaking into the pillow, but he made sure he wasn't shaking with sobs. He felt like he'd ruined his son's childhood or probably his entire life. If it was true that childhood traumas affect a person's entire life then what would become of his boy's life in the future? 'I'm sorry, Scorpius... I've failed to keep you safe and happy. I've failed you...' Draco's hurt mind, his mental self wandered to the first floor and sneaked into the bathroom, the one that he'd used before. There, in one of the drawers, between the two folded towels, white and chequered blue, was a sharp object, the dagger that Draco had placed there, his little secret; something that could relieve his strain and clear his head. He wanted to get it immediately. But thinking about it, he felt even guiltier, so his mental self returned into the body that was lying in the bed with his child in his arms and was too weak and hurt to go anywhere yet.

     The next time he woke up, Scorpius wasn't in his arms any longer, and Draco couldn't suppress a pang of uneasiness. But Harry was there, approaching his bed with a tray of food (it was probably the sound of the opening or closing door that had woken Draco up, even if it had been quiet).

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," Harry apologised. "Scorpius is with Al. I made him eat a little, though he wasn't very eager," he informed.

"Thanks..." Draco murmured quietly.

"You should eat something, too."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to keep it down."

"Try. It's just a soup, nothing heavy."

"Smells good..."

     Draco managed to eat half of the soup and some bread (once he'd found more or less comfortable position for eating without hurting himself, and Harry had helped him with that as best as he could), but then he felt he shouldn't test himself with any more than that. The potions, mainly the pain-relieving potions that he felt he was starting to need desperately, were more than welcome after eating, however, they had ruined the pleasant taste of food in his mouth.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked when Draco had lain down and made himself as comfortable as possible.

"Better," the blond replied, though he sounded uncertain. But then he noticed some cuts on the back of Harry's hands. Some seemed deep, but they weren't bleeding at all, they were mostly skinned over and covered with greenish healing salve. Had Harry been injured at work again? It probably meant that Draco had slept for more time than he'd thought if Harry had had enough time to go to work and get himself hurt. "Perhaps, you should reconsider your choice of profession," Draco said, slightly raising his eyebrows.

"Why?" Harry asked in surprise, but then he noticed what Draco was looking at. "Oh, this... No, I haven't been at work after... It's Semiramis. She got drunk yesterday. At first she was talking some nonsense and giggling. She was walking around or crawling, or toppling over onto her sides sometimes; half-naked. And by naked I mean her... um... human-like parts," Harry said and chuckled completely humourlessly. He looked down at his chest, explaining the last sentence.

"Oh..." Draco blinked.

"And when I told her to go and get some sleep, and tried to help her to get to her room, she turned aggressive, scratched me and cursed me by the dozens names of the gods I've never even heard of. Merlin, she was drunk like a sailor, so I can only imagine the hangover she's being experiencing today. She hasn't even left her room yet. Not that I'm really in the mood to see her," Harry finished. Only now Draco really noticed that there were really scratches on his hands, caused by four sharp claws, not some cuts.

"I always knew she was mental," the blond snorted.

"I've never been so thoroughly cursed in so many ancient languages before," Harry grinned. It was said with such a mocking pride that Draco burst into quiet laughter, even though it sounded a little downhearted to Harry's ears; it sounded in a minor key. The blond embraced his own hurt body with both arms. Not enough time had passed for the pain-relieving potion to really ease his pain.

"Ooh... Stop making me laugh, it hurts," he begged.

"Sorry," Harry smiled sympathetically.

     As much as he wanted to spend some more time with Draco, he had the children to look after, so he left to deal with Al's tantrum, because not only Scorpius had been no fun of late and Al was angry at him again, but he was also displeased with the amount of sweets he'd received today. Albus ended up being put in the 'naughty corner', while Harry demonstratively played table games for children with heartbreakingly taciturn and subdued Scorpius, who played rather reluctantly without much interest.

     Even through his sleep Draco felt that he was being watched, so he woke up only to see Semiramis, sitting in the armchair next to his bed and staring at him. For some reason, he suspected that she'd used some kind of magic to drag him out of his slumber, albeit softly. At any rate, he didn't appreciate it.

"Ah, you're awake. Good..." She tried to sound almost cheerful and gave him a fake smile. It hardly looked sincere or pleasurable to look at, because her face was slightly puffy, her eyes were bloodshot and she looked unsteady even though she was sitting.

"What are you doing here?.." Draco frowned sleepily.

"There are no more hangover potions in this house. I thought you might probably brew me some," she declared. Oh, right... Selfish, as always. He could very well be on his deathbed and she would've still come to annoy him, because there was something she needed, which was more important than anything else in the world. As much as he could be pretty egoistic himself, he was marvelling at her nerve, almost amused, though also irritated.

"As you can see, I'm not quite fit to brew anything right now... I'll probably collapse before reaching the potions lab."

"Oh, you're impossible, human," she scowled.

"Am I? They say you surpassed yourself yesterday. Was it absinthe again?" he teased, even though his voice was thick. She looked embarrassed.

"Not just absinthe. I added several drops of valerian tincture into my glass. Several times. Um... Many times. For you, humans, valerian is a light sedative, but for cats, big and small, it's similar to catmint. I usually add just a little bit of it to... to..." She looked thoughtful, trying to pick the right words.

"Um... To get stoned?" Draco said 'helpfully', his voice derisive.

"Yes, to get stoned!" the sphinx snapped, but winced at the pain that her exclamation had caused to her head that was splitting from the severe hangover. "Yesterday I added too much, so I hardly remember what I was doing. I just remember I felt... cheerful at first and then I got angry," she confessed, calmly this time. Draco shook his head. "What?" she scowled at his expression. "At least, it's legal! You, humans used to add opium to absinth in the same manner even when it has become anything but legal."

"Oh, please, no more history of your booze... I'm not brewing you anything. Perhaps, it'll teach you not to drink so much next time."

"My life had gone to the dogs, so I had every right to be upset... for an hour or two," she smirked lightly in the end.

"What happened this time?" Draco sighed. He knew it wasn't wise of him to start it, but he was bored and, despite his dizziness, he wasn't about to fall asleep any time soon.

"I'd been seducing one handsome man. We wrote letters and firecalled each other every single day. Everything was perfect, until he found out that I was a sphinx," she snorted.

"Wait a minute... You seduced a human? How could you fall so low?" Draco chuckled softly with evident sarcasm in his voice.

"It was hardly the first time," Semiramis waved off his derision with her paw. "He showered me with poetry and presents, a lot of them, including his invaluable family jewellery. I'd never sent him any photographs that showed anything lower than my upper chest, so he suspected nothing. He wanted to meet me in person so desperately that he was ready to give anything. And I like attention, and I like to be worshipped," she purred.

"And you also like jewels. You've fleeced him of his heirlooms."

"There's no need to be so dramatic, I know he's got so much more of those beautiful things. He's just found out who I am too soon, because of his curiosity and influence."

"You're such a fraud," Draco rolled his eyes. She snorted with annoyance, but then lowered her head and covered it with her paw for a moment, wincing slightly.

"Looks like you're feeling better now, human. How about brewing that potion now that you're not that ill?"

"I said, no. And I do not feel any better, just awake. Go away. Ask Harry to buy you that damned potion."

"Ah, so he's 'Harry' now?" she purred with a nasty, poisonous smirk.

"Semiramis. Don't," he said firmly and it was nothing but a warning. "Look... I'm hurt, I have a concussion, I can't take deep breaths, and, worst of all, I'm scared for my son; so I'm not in the mood for fooling around. Please, go away," he asked; almost nicely, but seriously.

"I'll leave you to your misery," she mocked dramatically, then frowned at him and left the room, shutting the door with her magic, loud enough to hurt Draco's head, as well as her own, to her dismay.

     As she had left, Draco suddenly felt the acute need to have Harry here with him right now. There was even no particular necessity to talk to him. Draco just wanted his strong presence, because he felt weak and hurt, and because he was afraid that his thoughts about the sharp dagger, the one between the towels in the drawer in the bathroom on the first floor, would fully return and try to take him over. And the memories of the attack, of his helplessness and of all the pain inflicted on him, the memories of Scorpius, scared rigid in his arms, could easily assist those thoughts in their task.

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It's really long, because I didn't know where to stop :/

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The Shards Of His Beloved