Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Survivor's Guilt	By : SpeedyTomato Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 34080 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money of this dark dance of Harry Potter fanfic.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14

Beta'd by the amazing Tenchi. Thanks, Tenchi, you're the best!

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Sitting in Harry's room after Ron and Hermione left, Dudley slumped in his chair, rubbing his face. It was still early yet by his standards, just after ten at night, but he felt like he had been run over by a couple of lorries and was dead on his feet. Shaking his head, he looked at his cousin who was fast asleep. Though the situation that brought him there wasn't a good one, just short of the worst case, for the first time he had some hope that, perhaps, this would work itself out. The fact that Harry agreed to talk to the therapist was good news. It meant his cousin would finally get the help he so desperately needed. There was also the fact that if things went downhill again, there was a resource for getting him help before it got this bad again. That he did like, immensely.

“Dudley, perhaps you should get some rest. You look exhausted,” Lucius said, quietly, from his chair on the other side of Harry's bed.

Rubbing his yes, Dudley replied, tone weary, “Yeah, I need sleep, no doubt there. Let me pop outside to see if mum or dad left a message then going to find my room and crash. If you need anything, just wake me up or have Kreacher do it.”

“I shall,” Lucius nodded. “I'll probably be finding my own bed soon. The day has taken its toll.”

“Yeah, that is has,” Dudley sighed with a shake of his head. “Meant to ask, mate; it go alright with your son?”

“It went fine,” Lucius told him with a dismissive wave. “Draco, as would be expected with the abrupt exit, was concerned. I soothed his fears and let him know that the mobile will have to be used to contact me for some time as I shan't be home. Of course, I didn't explain why this was, just that my assistance was needed and I won't be at my flat. Nothing more than that.” Glancing at the young man on the bed, he said, quietly, “In a couple days time, when Harry is slightly more 'with it' I'll take him to my flat with me while I attend to business. Won't be anything troublesome, of course, and he can sleep as he is now, but it is something that needs attending to once a week.”

“Whatever you need, Lucius,” Dudley nodded. As he and Harry had been to the man's posh flat a couple times and he knew where it was, he didn't take issue with it. “If nothing else, you can wait until I get off work then go while I sit here.”

“Either is acceptable, Dudley,” Lucius nodded. “Now, get some rest.”

Standing, stretching, Dudley nodded then said, “Thanks again, mate, it's appreciated. Need me, come find me.”

“I will,” Lucius nodded. “I doubt there will be an issue but if there is, I will.” Waving his hand at the young man, he said, “Sleep, Dudley.”

Nodding, Dudley gave a wave then left the room, he headed down the stairs to go over to the park to check his mobile.

Sighing, Lucius looked at the bed again and the younger man sleeping on it. Right now, even he knew that sleep would only assist in what was going on. After all, from what he had seen of Harry over the last month or so, Lucius doubted he had much of it. Hell, even sitting in the pub, Harry tended to doze off several times he was so exhausted. No, that probably hadn't helped anything at all, making what was there all the worse.

Looking down, he rubbed his eyes. He, too, was beyond tired but it was doubtful that sleep would come. With all that had gone on, whatever sleep he would get would be haunted by nightmares of that veil, of that he was certain. For months after being around that nightmarish thing after the first go 'round, he had them. With what he saw and felt today? They would come back. Couple that with more 'ammunition' after the hell that had come after his first encounter with the thing, and the nightmares he would have would be something he wasn't certain he could handle. No, he wasn't going to try until he was so tired that he would doze on his own. Hopefully then he could sleep.

Summoning the house elf, he had him bring some tea and a light snack. When the elf came back in, Lucius took them and leaned back, sipping the tea, eyes locked on the bed. With as out as Harry was, it was doubtful the young man would wake if the house blew up, but he didn't think he could stand to leave him alone right now. That, honestly was more from his end than the situation.

Glancing at Harry, he could feel his heart clench slightly. Part of it was from what he had seen and heard from his friend today, no doubt there. However, part was over his wife. If Narcissa had hurt even half as bad as what he had heard from Harry today, the pain she had been in must have been horrific. Even worse? He hadn't been around to help. Honestly, he didn't know what he could have done for her, if anything, but so much of it she had to go through alone. Draco had been in prison himself up until about three months before she ended it. He had still remained until a couple years after she was gone. Whatever struggle she had gone through, she had to go it alone.

Shaking his head, he looked down at the floor. There was plenty of guilt building over what he may have missed during visits, what could have been done to alleviate her suffering and other things he just didn't know about. For the longest time, he had though Narcissa was the lucky one of the trio. She had gotten parole and to make some amends, such as volunteer work in the long-term ward at St. Mungos as 'community service', but no prison time like he and his son. The worst, apparently, was she had been left alone so much. Their friends were gone, the only relative she had left was a sister that wanted nothing to do with her, her parole was strict enough that she couldn't travel, so she was left to rattle around in the manor with no one but house elves for company and paintings to talk to. On this end, if he thought about it, that would have to be torture. If he felt bad or wanted company, he could find Draco. Then Harry and Dudley came along. That made the situation much better, even he would admit to that. Narcissa hadn't had any of that kind of out. She had been all alone to deal with the multitude of mistakes they all had made. The consequences had been bad, no doubt there, but even in Azkaban, he had beings around him all the time and he could talk, somewhat, to those that were there. Especially when Draco had been housed close to him. Narcissa only really had people to talk to when she visited him and their son. Other than that, she was alone, ostracized and treated foul because they had really made mistakes.

He looked up at the bed when he heard a noise, but was relieved to see that it was just Harry moving in his sleep. His face remained peaceful and he was still sleeping soundly. That was good. Shaking his head, Lucius looked down at the floor once more, chest aching for his wife. Shutting his eyes, he sighed then said a silent 'I'm sorry' to Narcissa. Though she was a Black, a family that was known for the darker aspects of magic, it was he, and his father, that had led her down the path that they had chosen. Then, after the first war, when it was apparent the Dark Lord was someone they needed to stay away from, hadn't backed away from any of the ideology that had gotten them in trouble in the first place. No, he had decided to wiggle to get himself out of trouble then blithely go on like nothing happened, following the road to hell. Like all others, he had heard the rumblings that the Dark Lord wasn’t gone. Part of him thought it was rubbish, but another part, the part that wanted the notoriety and power that came with being the follower of the man they thought would deliver them from so much, wanted him back. Then he had returned.

Rubbing his eyes, feeling sick, Lucius remembered that return in the cemetery. Deep inside, despite his stoic appearance, he had felt sick over what he had seen in that graveyard. The Dark Lord had been bad at the end of the first war, there was no doubt there, but what had come back was worse, far worse. Rather than do what he should have and run or gone to Dumbledore, he had stayed. That was the biggest mistake of his entire life. His wife had stood by him through the whole thing. In the end, he only had himself to blame for what happened. Going in, he knew the Dark Lord didn't tolerate failure. Losing that prophecy and then ending in Azkaban because of it, was something that was going to bring retribution; that he knew. And it had, on all of them. His son had almost become a murderer and his wife had followed right along behind him.

Opening his eyes, he looked at the young man on the bed, feeling even more sick as he did. In the low light, while he slept, Harry no longer looked like someone pushing close to thirty. He looked like the boy he had seen so many times while Draco was in school. While sitting here grousing over his own mistakes, he was remembering what that awful war had cost the young man on the bed. Staring at Harry, he felt that heaviness in his chest grow. Not only for the pain his wife might have gone through while she suffered alone with the mistakes he had made, but for Harry, who was suffering over a mere prophecy someone had made then the insanity of a maniac. Staring at the young man, he felt one tear slip down his cheek. “I'm sorry,” he whispered softly, looking at Harry. “I'm sorry, Narcissa and Harry. I can't make it to where it never happened or repair what I did in the past, but I can make it better now. I vow I will.” Nodding, continuing to stare at Harry, he vowed he would. He couldn't repair his wife's hurt, she was beyond his grasp now, but he could try with Harry. And he would do his damnedest. No, he would be helping Harry get through this. It's the least he could do for the young man.

Sitting in the park across the street, Dudley was looking down at his mobile. He had just checked his messages then called his mum to tell her he wouldn't be home for a couple days. Though not giving details, he had just said he was staying with Harry. Though she made a couple noises he could easily distinguish as ones of displeasure, he had ignored it then said goodbye and hung up. Even to this day, Harry was a touchy subject with his mum. She had tried to make amends with Harry over so much but it really hadn't happened. Especially when his dad started in. Then, well, she just reverted to what she had always done with Harry. Now that made him feel ill.

Glancing up at the house across the street, Dudley clutched onto the phone as guilt curdled his stomach. All the rotten things he had done to his cousin, how he tortured him, teased him, ways he had made his life a living hell were all coming back to him now. At the time, it was considered normal. With what he knew now? He felt like shit!

Because of the way his mum and dad were, he had never seen Harry as a real human being. He was the freak, nothing more. Freaks didn't feel the same way you did. Now, well, he knew differently. Harry was a sensitive being that had been going through hell while he had chosen to torture him while at home. Between his parents treating him like shite, him and his friends being rotten, he was surprised Harry just didn't go postal then hex the lot of them. He hadn't though. He had remained strong and pushed on. How he had done that, he didn't know, but he did. Well, it appeared that even Harry had limits because he had hit them.

Staring at the house, Dudley shook his head. What he had heard from Harry as he was trying to die coupled with what he knew of the war made him want to vomit. And through so much of it, he had made the whole thing worse. Since then, yeah, he had tried to make it up to his cousin, but it didn't fix what he had done. Nothing ever could. It was more that Harry didn't need on his shoulders or to deal with.

Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop and the tears that had been there all day, behind the fear and other emotions, came. They were silent because he hadn't wanted to make any noise, but they were tears. Shoulders heaving, he cried over so much, past and present, as well as the pain he heard from his cousin. The new Dudley, what he referred to himself as now, was agonizing over not being able to fix it and blaming the old one. He knew that nothing could undo what he had done, that all you could manage was to press on then try to make the now better, but it still hurt as he thought about it. Even worse? He was angry with Harry, well, a small part of himself, for trying this. The rational part knew why, the other part that seemed to be the spoiled brat of so long ago was throwing a fit over it. It chided about a selfish act that made Harry someone that didn't think of anyone but himself. However, he clamped down, hard, on that, shoving it aside. No, as the doctor said; this was about pain, nothing more. Harry was in a place that he couldn't fix things like he had so many times in the past. It wasn’t about being selfish. If there was something in this world Harry wasn't, it was selfish. He had given so much to so many that it wasn't even something that could come close to describing anything.

Sitting there, he let the tears run their course then swiped them away with an angry hand when they slowed down. Ignoring the ache inside him, he looked back at the house then stood up. Though he doubted sleep would come and, if it did, that there would be nightmares of the likes that had been brought on by that Dementor, he had to try. He was dead on his feet, after all, and needed rest. There was so much to come and deal with that he needed some, even if it wasn't much.

Slipping his mobile into his pocked, he trudged back to Grimmauld Place for the long night he was sure was coming.

It was a solemn bunch that sat around the kitchen table in the Burrow. Only the members of the Weasley clan, not the spouses and children, with only Hermione and Andromeda as exceptions, being there. After listening to what an exhausted Ron and Hermione had to say, the men looked grave or sick, Ginny had tears in her eyes and Molly was openly crying, leaning on her husband.

Picking up her beaker, Andromeda was shaking so badly she had a hard time holding it. After taking a sip, she sat it down then pushed it back before saying, voice just above a whisper, “I knew something was wrong after that last visit with Teddy, but I never thought it was this.” Shaking her head, she shivered, “He looked-- well, he looked like hell. He's so thin and looked like he hadn't slept in days. Then he gave Teddy the map his father helped make. I mean, that I understood. Remus did help make the thing. After that, though, he gave Teddy his broom and Invisibility Cloak. I mean-- well, that was off. I didn't know what it meant, but it left me with a bad feeling.”

Looking at her, one tear slipping down her face, Hermione then shook her head and said, softly, “He's-- I don't know! I mean, we're all so busy with the kids, work, other things-- Ron and I haven't gone to see him for a while. I mean, now that I think about it, it's been months since we've seen Harry. Dudley said that it's been going on for a while. First that he was drinking a lot. It was enough that Dudley said he was really worried and that Harry was getting drunk every night. We never saw that! Then Harry just stopped drinking, cold. Dudley told me that's when he really started to get worried, knowing it wasn't a good sign with everything else they were seeing. Now, well--” Trailing off, she shook her head and didn't know what else to say.

Looking down, feeling guilty, Arthur shook his head. Nor did he know what to say. Like Hermione said, it had been months since any of them had seen Harry. Though there could be many things said, life happened was most of it. Between his job, the grandkids and things that had just come up, they were so busy that it just seemed to slip away. The last time that they had seen the young man was for Easter at a dinner. Harry, even then, was quieter than normal. At the time, with all that was going on, he hadn't thought much about it. Now? Well, he was. And he felt slightly ill.

After a couple minutes where the silence seemed to scream in the room, Arthur said, tone level though very quiet, “I think we all need to make sure we make time to go see him. If he'll see us that is. I think he has every reason to be angry with all of us. We can make any excuse we want, but the truth is Harry is just as much mine and Molly's child as everyone else here. We wouldn't have done this to anyone at this table, but we did him. Even knowing how bad this must be for him with all the nostalgia surrounding the anniversary we didn't bother.”

“Did he say anything to you two?” Bill asked, looking at Hermione and Ron, feeling ill himself.

Shaking his head, staring at the table, Ron said, “No, nothing. He was out of it completely after the mind healer got done with him. Whatever he was given made it to where he was out cold. I had to levitate him to his room, he was so bad.”

“Before that-- well, we came into what I said so he didn't say anything. He looks like hell, though,” Hermione said, tone watery. Looking at Arthur, she asked, softly, “Did you know he was working in the Death Chamber?” As her father-in-law was working in a department that managed placements in the Ministry now, she wondered if he knew. After all, even hearing that was where Harry was working set off warning bells for her before she knew the situation.

Shaking his head, Arthur said, “The Unspeakables are the one branch we don't know much about. They have to keep things quiet so even we don't know who is assigned where unless it's something that relates to another department. I had-- if I had known that's where he was working, I would have said something! For someone like Harry, and what happened in that chamber, it wouldn't be seen as a healthy thing.”

“He's been working there for years from what his boss and Dudley said,” Ron interjected, looking around. “I thought, at least, well, what I heard is, that they have to rotate out after so long of a time.”

Taking off his glasses, Arthur slowly polished them, looking thoughtful then said, softly, “I think, in this case, it may be because of who Harry is that they let him do what he wanted. If that's where he wanted to work and wanted to stay on, they may have let him. I think so many see him as invincible that they might not have noticed an issue. Apparently, they were wrong.”

“What about Lucius Malfoy?” George asked, quietly, looking around. “He's staying there with Harry? How did that happen?”

Looking sour, Ron huffed, “Dudley is real adamant about that. Says they are all friends. Harry even let Malfoy through the wards a few weeks ago. I don't know what's up there, but it has to be something! I'll find it eventually.”

“Leave it, Ron,” Hermione said, tone firm. Looking at George, she said, “They have become friends, the three of them. It was Mr. Malfoy that saved Harry. Dudley was the one to call him for help. It's his therapist that Harry will be seeing. So, if there was something, Dr. Netherwood would know. He says there isn't. I think, right now, we need to leave it alone.”

“Alright, I get that,” Ron sighed. “Doesn't mean I’m not going to keep an eye on him, though! Malfoy is-- we all know what he's like.”

For the first time, Molly spoke up then said, tone watery, “I think, despite how busy we are, that we all need to make time to go over and see him in the coming weeks. We've not done that and we need to.”

“If he'll let us,” Charlie said softly. Seeing quizzical looks shot his way, he said, tone firm, “We all profess that Harry is family, always has been, but we wouldn't have done this to one of our own. Mum, alone, would make sure to see us once a week. We haven't with him. We've just forgotten. That's not right. If I were him, I’d be damned mad about that! And would have every right to be!”

“It wasn't intentional,” Arthur said softly, looking at his son.

“Intentional or not, we did it,” Charlie shot right back. “Would you have done that to one of us, dad? Just forgot for months on end? No, you wouldn't.” Standing, Charlie said, “I'm going. I need to think.” Without saying anything else, he walked out. Quickly, they heard the crack of Apparation, telling them he was gone.

Looking down at the table, Molly felt her eyes fill with tears again then shook her head. Looking over at Hermione, she saw her daughter-in-law looked like she had been slapped. Eyes red, the young witch looked like she was going to cry again. Sighing, she said, “Harry-- he understands why. We'll make it up to him.”

Standing, Bill said nothing but shook his head then walked out. What Charlie said hit too close to home and he wanted to think. That he couldn't do sitting around the table. Stepping outside, he Apparated away, planning to talk to Fleur alone when he got home.

Sniffling, Andromeda shook her head. “I-- I've seen him and I knew something was off but did or said nothing. I don't know what to say to him now. I really don't. I should have known something was really wrong.” Looking up, she asked, softly, “What do I tell Teddy? He's going to ask when I say its best not to see Harry right now. What reason do I give?”

“I don't know,” Molly said softly, shaking her head. “We'll think of something though. And we'll make it up to Harry. Somehow we will.” Though, right now, she didn't have any idea of how to go about that or what to say to the young man. She would, though. This was another one of her children and she would find a way.

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Survivor's Guilt