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The Guile and Devotion of a Black Heir	By : StarLightMassacre Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 104291 -:- Recommendations : 9 -:- Currently Reading : 26
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter; all rights go to J. K. Rowling. I make no money for this piece of fictional writing and never will.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Last Time

“Have a nap, Harry, I’ll wake you in twenty minutes for your next potion.” Rabastan told him quietly.

Harry groaned. “It’s the vile one that gives me a skull splitting headache next.”

“I know. I’ll be sure to massage your head for you.”

Harry blushed pink and he groaned again. “You’re fucking evil.”

“You knew that before you met me, love.” Rabastan countered with a grin.

Harry chuckled and then he yawned. With any luck he’d be feeling a bit better by tomorrow and he’d be able to keep his legs under him better so that he’d be able to go back to Hogwarts, and get himself out of the reach of such irresistible temptation.

Chapter Fourteen – Sentencing

Harry’s prediction was true, the following day he was almost completely fine and he was well enough to behave, at least partially, normally. He still got the awful headaches from the bone strengthening potions, and the night sweats weren’t going to go away until he stopped taking the strong nutrient potions and they had been completely worked out of his system, but he could stand up and walk on his own two feet now with no needed assistance. He hadn’t been sick at all that day, not yet, and his appetite had returned with a gusto as he’d woken up absolutely famished.

He had more colour to him, he had slept the night through so he only needed to rest a little instead of taking numerous little cat naps throughout the day and he was feeling much stronger than he had in previous days.

Lucius had called the Healer, the one who had been the team leader of his Healers at his check-up, to come and pay them a home visit at the manor to make sure that he was doing as well as was expected and Harry was declared fit enough and ready to be able to go back to school, providing that he took it easy and didn’t push himself too hard. There was to be no fighting or brawling, as Lucius had instructed him sternly, and no Quidditch either, not even practice. He was going to go back to the school later that night so that he was at the castle with plenty of time to sleep and rest up ready for the last day of lessons tomorrow.

It seemed ridiculous to go back on Thursday night and only have one day of lessons before the weekend, but Harry knew that he’d have so much catch up homework and assignments to do that even going to lessons on Friday wouldn’t help him much, but at least it would cut down on his workload a little. He’d be doing homework furiously until Monday morning rolled around. He’d already sent a letter to Marcus explaining the situation and apologising profusely that he had to bail on only their second lesson. He hoped that Marcus understood that these were extenuating circumstances and that he wasn’t sick very often. Out of everything, he hated bailing on his tutoring lessons the most, as Marcus had absolutely no obligation or any reason to tutor him if he didn’t want to and Harry feared that if he messed Marcus around like this, even if he couldn’t help it, then Marcus would just say fuck it and refuse to tutor him anymore.

“How are you feeling?”

Harry smiled and turned to look at Rabastan, who had come into his bedroom and was watching him pack up some of the things he was taking with him to Hogwarts into his book satchel. All of his potions were already in the bag, ready to be taken with him.

“I’m feeling much better. It’s going to be hell getting used to the headaches in the middle of the day and sleeping while being covered in sweat, but it’s only until the summer.”

“I wish I could take this pain and discomfort away from you.” Rabastan said seriously as he walked over and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“And put more onto yourself? No.” Harry said firmly.

“I can handle it. I’ve gotten much better than I was before, from when I was actually inside Azkaban. A bit more pain won’t break me.”

“I don’t care. You’ve worked hard to get yourself to this point and I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve achieved for yourself.” Harry said with a proud smile.

“I’d come with you if I could, so that I could continue looking after you.”

“Oh that would be wonderful.” Harry laughed. “I can see the headlines of tomorrow’s paper now. ‘Escaped Azkaban Death Eater turns up at Hogwarts to be carer of sickly Harry Potter. Dumbledore so surprised he suffers instantaneous heart attack.’”

Rabastan laughed. “If only.” He said.

Harry nodded his agreement. “Things are never that easy though and it would be much too dangerous, but I’ll see you soon for Easter.”

“It seems so close, but it’ll feel as far away as the moon.”

Harry chuckled and he turned, wrapping his arms around Rabastan’s neck. “I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

“I still love how you’re setting out your letters. It’s the only written text that can keep my attention for longer than ten minutes and doesn’t give me a stress related headache, I find it so easy to read. Thank you for thinking of doing it that way.”

Harry grinned. “It was just a thought. You said you had problems reading because you lost where you were in a passage and I just thought, if it was all in different colours, then you might not forget where you were if you knew that you’d read the green passage, but not the red one.”

Rabastan kissed him as soon as he finished talking and Harry melted into his kiss, into his body and he held on, kissing back just as passionately.

“I love you.” Rabastan said firmly once they had broken apart for air. “I have never loved anyone as I’ve loved you. Never as strongly, never as wantonly, never has anyone stirred up such desire or need in me. Only you and I love you for it.”

Harry smiled happily and he wrapped his arms tightly around Rabastan’s neck.

“I can’t wait until we’re married. I want to be able to say that you’re my Husband. I want to be able to tell everyone, though that might not be possible, but I just want us to be married.”

“Soon. A year and a half.” Rabastan soothed, holding Harry’s slim body close. He didn’t tell Harry that by the time that they were married in a little over a year’s time, that everyone in the wizarding word would be able to know about them and their marriage, and no one would be able to say or do anything about it.

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Harry was forced to floo into Dumbledore’s office upon his return to the school, as the Headmaster wanted to know how he was after his week at home, when he would have chosen, and actually preferred, to use Professor McGonagall’s fireplace as he usually would have done.

Of course Dumbledore had brought in his secret weapon, Remus, to make his tongue looser. He’d realised that that was what the Headmaster was subtly doing after their last meeting, when he’d told them too much, especially about his future bride, Aceline. He was supposed to keep things simple and easy to remember, not make up a web of lies about her non-existent backstory. All it took was for him to contradict himself in his lies just once and everything would fall through and he and Rabastan would be back in danger.

He was wrapped up in Remus’ arms almost before he’d even fully landed on his feet and he smiled happily, if a bit tiredly.

“You don’t look well.” Remus told him seriously, cupping Harry’s face in both of his hands. “And you’re too warm.”

“I know. That’s why I was at home, Remus.” Harry said softly. “I haven’t been well.”

“Why not?” The werewolf demanded.

Harry sighed. “I’m on some very strong potions now, they make me tired, sweaty and headachy.”

“What sort of potions?” Dumbledore asked quickly, with a bit of panic in his voice.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Harry snapped.

“Harry, please. Are you alright?” Remus asked, distracting him from offloading his anger onto his preferred target.

“I’m fine.” He bit out. “Now I need to get back to my rooms, I have a mountain of homework to catch up on.”

“I’ve taken the liberty of wiping the slate clean, so to say, with your professors. They aren’t expecting any of the homework set for you in the last week to be handed in.” Dumbledore told him.

Harry almost saw red and he couldn’t control the wave of anger that surged forth and he was too tired to even try to stop it.

“You had absolutely no right to interfere with my school work in such a way!” He exploded. “If I hadn’t wanted to do it, I would have had my Father contact the school to say so on my behalf! I will be doing the work I missed and I will be handing it in, sick or not! How dare you sabotage my work and my exams in such a blatant way, I won’t stand for it!”

“I…I apologise, Harry. I thought that I was trying to help.”

“Just stop sticking your nose in my business, it’s nothing to do with you!” He snarled.

“Harry.” Remus said quietly, sadly.

“I’m fine!” He repeated louder. “There’s nothing wrong with me and I’ll be off of the potions soon.” He lied.

“What are the potions for? Please tell me.” Remus begged.

“No. It’s my business what I’m taking and for what reason and I won’t have anyone telling me different. The Healers have told me what I need to do and how to take the potions and I’ll be fine, now leave it at that!”

“You went to see Healers?”

“Of course I did! Who do you think prescribed me the potions in the first place?!” He answered shrilly.

“What’s wrong, Harry? You’re so angry.” Remus bit his lip, looking so worried that Harry almost hugged him and he had to bite his tongue to keep the anger flowing lest he crack and say far too much again in such unpleasant company.

“I’m angry because I have a pounding headache and he…” He burst out pointing straight at Dumbledore. “Has been interfering with my school work! I’m not going to let my marks drop just because of this di…this! It’s no one else’s business but my own and I will choose who to share such information with, no one else!”

“Has something else happened to make you so tense, Harry? Is it Aceline?” Remus asked. “Is she alright?”

Harry settled his shoulders and he shook his head. “No, she’s fine, we’re fine. The language barrier is a bit difficult to navigate at times, but my French is coming on better. It’s easier to write than it is to speak, but the distance is also difficult to deal with. I haven’t seen her since the New Year party held at my parents’ home over the holidays and I’m missing her a lot more than I thought I would. But she’s absolutely fine, that’s not why I’m so irritated.”

“Is it something to do with the potions, a side effect of one of them?”

“It’s not a direct side effect of any of them, but I’m tired, I’m weak and drained. I have a terrible headache, I’m feverish and it’s not going to go away for months.”

“It’s getting you down.”

“Of course.” Harry sighed. “Then there’s the Wizengamot too. Let me tell you, arguing the toss with a bunch of stuck up, brainless apes is not my idea of a productive day.”

“Do you have to go back?” Remus asked awkwardly, not used to talking of such political topics with anyone.

Harry nodded. “Yes, soon too. We’re sentencing another brainless ape to Azkaban.”

“Who?” Dumbledore cut in and Harry’s back stiffened. He’d almost forgotten where he was and with who. The potions were making him even more talkative than usual. That could prove to be very dangerous if he left it unchecked or someone noticed and had a mind to take advantage of him in such a state.

“That, I believe, is none of your concern anymore. I am not even strictly supposed to be mentioning it to anyone who is not a member of the court.” He said, trying to make up for the fact that he’d already said far too much. “Remus, would you mind accompanying me to my rooms?”

“Of course not, Harry.”

Harry left without waiting to be dismissed and without saying goodbye to Dumbledore. He led Remus through the corridors and down to the fourth floor from the seventh, to where his rooms were located.

“Please have a seat. Tea?” He asked.

“Please.” Remus said, taking a seat where Harry had gestured.

Harry filled his little teapot with water and set it on the hotplate as he set up two cups and popped in a teabag each.

“Do you still take milk and sugar?” He asked politely.

“A drop of milk and one sugar, please.”

Harry nodded and while he waited for the kettle to boil he took off the satchel he had with him and started putting all of his potions away.

“That’s…forgive me for being nosy, Harry, but that is a lot of potions.” Remus said quietly. “How unwell are you?”

“Put it this way, Remus, if it hadn’t been found, I would have eventually died from it.” He said wearily as he closed the cupboard door and removed his whistling teapot from the hotplate. He distracted himself for a moment by pouring the boiling water carefully into the two cups and getting his small bottle of milk out of his cold cupboard.

“Soon?” Remus said strangely. Harry looked at him to see that he was very pale. His weathered, scarred face was horrified and he looked like he was in physical pain as well as mental anguish.

“A few years maybe.” Harry said mildly, as if he wasn’t speaking of his own premature death. “The Healers said that I might not have lived to see twenty. I didn’t even know about it. I ignored all of the warning signs, but then, in my defence I didn’t even know that they were warning signs so I didn’t realise that anything was amiss, let alone something so devastatingly serious that could have been fatal.”

“What do you have, Harry? Tell me.” Remus said sternly.

Harry sighed. “This goes no further than us, Remus. I mean it.” He said just as firmly. “Only a few people know and none of them would tell another soul, I want you to do the same. I want you to respect me, so that I can trust you in turn.”

“It stays between us and the portrait of Sirius that I have at home. I talk to him a lot too, but he can’t tell anyone else.”

Harry smiled, knowing how that felt, being able to talk to Sirius again, to offload onto him and get his honest reply, even if it was his younger self who had last ‘seen’ him as a little baby, and Harry nodded his agreement.

“Remember I told you about how I was adopted because of unspecified neglect.” He started.

“Yes.” Remus growled, his eyes darkening drastically.

“I told you that those people forced me to cook and clean and garden for them, but it went much deeper than that. I never wanted it to come out to anyone, not ever, but now it has. They hurt me, Remus. I have scars all over my body from what they did to me while I was forced to live there with them. It wasn’t just neglect, but pretty bad abuse.” He explained as he took the teabags from the cups, splashed in some milk and added sugar to Remus’ cup before walking over to hand it to the werewolf.

“How bad did it get?” Remus was trying to look calm and peaceful, but Harry could see the anger trickling through almost like a visible haze.

Harry sighed. “It’s hard to say to be honest. How do you measure child abuse? How do you scale it? I was never welcome there. I was treated like their personal slave. I did everything, cooking, cleaning, gardening, all from a very young age, Remus. I slept in the cupboard too, until I was almost eleven and my Hogwarts letter came addressed to the cupboard under the stairs…that panicked them and I got Dudley’s second bedroom.”

Harry sighed heavier and took a deep drink of tea, relaxing himself down.

“Needless to say that such treatment has left a serious mark on me. I didn’t realise how badly until I went to the hospital last Sunday morning and the Healers found that I have hypocalcaemia.”

“What is that? Is it treatable?”

“It’s treatable. I have very low levels of calcium and vitamin D, I’m very deficient in both, so I need very strong potions to correct it as quickly as possible. I have incredibly brittle bones, those of a sixty year old man the Healers told me. The bone potions I have to take cause the severe headaches and the nutrient potions cause the sweating and the fevers. If this condition hadn’t been found, it would have killed me, Remus. I don’t…I’ve never been a huge fan of milk because I was never allowed any as a child and I rarely have cheese or yoghurt or really any other sources of calcium and though I was thrown outside to garden in the summer, I spent most of my childhood locked in a cupboard. Those people could have killed me, Remus and I’m still trying to get over the shock of it. I never would have gone to the hospital on my own, in fact I steadfastly didn’t want to go, but Lucius forced me after he heard how those people treated me. He’s kicking himself for not doing it in the summer like he originally wanted to, for waiting until now to do it, but he didn’t want to push me too hard because everything was new and I was still trying to settle in. Those extra few months would have made a noticeable difference in my recovery. I just…I can’t really believe it, you know?”

“Oh, Harry.”

Remus put down his teacup and came to hold him and Harry let himself hold onto Remus, just a little bit.

“I’m so sorry that I never came to check up on you. In all honesty I thought that you were safe and loved. I never would have expected anyone to treat you so appallingly.”

Harry sniffed hard and rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears that he wouldn’t allow to fall.

“It all worked out in the end, Remus. I’m very well looked after now. More than that though, I’m being taught properly and I’m actually happy. My life changed practically overnight. I went from being an abused slave to being Lord Potter-Black and I won’t look back anymore. Never again. Those people are dead to me now. They have hurt me time and time again, and now I find that their treatment could have led to my extremely premature death. They’re dead to me, Remus. I don’t want to see them, speak to them or even think of them again now after what they’ve done to me.”

“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but theirs. But I’ll overcome this, I refuse to let them win. I refuse to allow myself to be defined by them and their actions. I will make something better of myself. I will be better than them.”

“Enough of this talk now. Tell me about Aceline. Do you have a photo?”

“No, they’re all at home. Draco doesn’t like the way I ‘constantly moon over her’” He mimicked in a good likeness of Draco. “And Lucius thought that a photo would distract me from my studies, so I wasn’t allowed to bring one. But she’s a little taller than I am, hardly surprising really given that I didn’t inherit my parents height and all this abuse and malnourishment, now the hypocalcaemia too, it’s no wonder that I’m so much shorter than everyone else my age. But Aceline’s got gorgeous dark hair, cut shortish and these big blue eyes. I love those eyes.”

“So you’ve said before.” Remus laughed.

Harry grinned. “She’s quiet stubborn and headstrong, she always tries to get her own way, but we’re evenly matched in that respect. We both have fiery tempers too. She’s really kind and sweet though. She told me when I last saw her that I was the only one she’d ever loved in such a way.” He swallowed past the rising lump of emotion in his throat, thinking of Rabastan and their parting kiss. He’d give anything to be back at Malfoy Manor with Rabastan right now.

“It sounds like you two really do love one another.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It was a betrothal, one I didn’t really have a say in, but Lucius was kind. He allowed me to pick someone I actually felt compatible with, instead of just pairing me up with just anyone who was available. Aceline…she was just perfect right from the start. I knew as soon as I first saw her that she was going to be the one. That she was going to be the one that I married and had children with. She was just…the one.”

“I’m happy for you, Harry. I’m happy that you’re happy.”

That made him smile and he sighed. “None of this is ideal, of course. Me being stuck in Hogwarts and she’s off in Beauxbatons, but I’ll be joining her in a little over a year. Once I’ve graduated. I told you that I was going into teaching, didn’t I?” He said excitedly, planting more seeds so that his lies seemed more like truths.

“You did and I’m very proud of you too. I think you’ll make a brilliant teacher.”

“I hope so. But the apprenticeship is going to be highly intense and I need to be speaking proper French by then too. So Lucius, Narcissa and Aceline and her parents are giving me a seriously in depth course. It’s brutal.”

Remus laughed. “I can imagine. Are you finding it easy?”

Harry bobbed his head a bit from side to side in consideration. “Not easy I wouldn’t say, but I’m so determined to pick it up that I’m practically forcing it on myself. I’m doing better than expected apparently.” He grinned. “Of course Draco’s helping me too and Blaise, being French himself and having French as a first language, he’s utterly invaluable to me.”

“Do they help a lot?”

Harry nodded. “They help me with all my homework too, particularly Ancient Runes. They’ll be by soon to give me all the assignments that I missed since my hospital visit and to catch up. I’ve got to tell them that I’m sick and on potions too. It’s not going to be a good night.”

“I’ll leave you to it then, Harry, but please owl me if you need to talk, or floo call me. I…I’m staying at Grimmauld Place, perhaps I should have asked your permission first but…”

“Of course you didn’t have to ask me for my permission. Remus, what are you thinking? If you want to live there, it’s yours. I’d never kick you out and make you homeless, though…how’s Kreacher? I can have a word if you’d like.”

“He’s hardly ever there, I assumed that he was here with you.” Remus said with a frown.

“Hmm…maybe he’s in the kitchens with Dobby, I’ll ask.” He said mildly, but his mind was whirring. Kreacher had slipped off to Bellatrix Lestrange before and it had led to Sirius’ death, was he doing it again? He needed to find out and put a stop to it. He would not have his elf anywhere near Bellatrix Lestrange.

“I’ve been cleaning the place up, I have a bit of spare time on my hands, I hope you don’t mind.”

Harry laughed. “If you want to try and clean that dump up, Remus, that’s fine. Though I don’t think anything less than a blow torch and a bulldozer would make much difference. Maybe I should try painting it. You can’t really go wrong with sunshine yellow and burnt orange. Nice and bright.”

Remus laughed. “You should come sometime and point out which rooms you want which colour, I could paint it while you’re in school.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, I’ll owl you when I have a free weekend. Though I might get Dobby to just take me over. It’ll be quicker.”

Remus nodded, looking so much happier and Harry hugged him goodbye. Once the werewolf was gone he put Remus’ cup into the sink (anything he left in it got washed and dried by the next morning) and he boiled his little teapot again for a fresh cup of tea.

He sat and he waited for Draco and Blaise to come by, they’d said six O’clock, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Draco came earlier than that to demand answers from him. He would have been so worried getting a cryptic message off of Snape that he wasn’t coming back to school for a week after his hospital appointment. Lucius had sent a small letter, explaining that he was very sick and that Draco had to look after him once he came back to the castle (which Harry didn’t agree with), but that was it, they hadn’t wanted to take the chance that the letter might have been intercepted.

Again his prediction came true as barely half five rolled around, just half an hour after dinner had been served in the Great Hall, and he heard a measured knock at his door before it opened. Only Draco knew how to get into his rooms and he obviously wasn’t going to be polite enough to allow Harry to get up and open the door for him himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Draco demanded as soon as he walked in, leaving Blaise to shut the door as Draco came straight to Harry, sat next to him and placed a large, pale hand over his forehead. “You’re fevered! You’re not well enough to be here still. What were Mother and Father thinking sending you back in this condition?!”

“Draco, calm down and take a breath.” Harry said with a sigh of exasperation, but secretly he was pleased with the attention and the concern being shown to him. It was nice having an older brother to fuss over him, even if said older brother was only eight weeks older than he was. “I’m alright.”

“Clearly you’re not!” Draco scowled.

“Just, sit down and let me explain. Do you want tea?”

“Tea? You’re offering me tea in your condition?! No, I don’t want any damned tea! What’s wrong with you?”

Harry sighed. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing to have an older brother to fuss over him.

“I am…more ill than was expected.”

“I had gathered that for myself!” Draco said a little shrilly.

“Draco, please. This is difficult enough as it is.” Harry said, moving his hand to grip at Draco’s. The blond moved immediately so that he was holding Harry’s hand, not the other way around, and he squeezed Harry’s smaller hand gently, comfortingly.

“You’re going to be fine though, yes?”

Harry nodded. “I’m on a lot of, rather strong potions, but I’ll be fine by the summer.”

Draco swallowed and he took a deep breath. Blaise was all but forgotten on the other settee, but Harry focused on just Draco for the moment.

“I have hypocalcaemia.” He said softly.

“What’s that?” Draco demanded immediately.

“It’s a very serious, severe deficiency in calcium and vitamin D. My bones are suffering for it and…and they’re pretty brittle at the moment.”

“Brittle? What does that mean, brittle?” Draco asked, almost panicked.

“It means that we probably shouldn’t have had those wrestling matches when I first arrived at the Manor. Any one of which could have easily snapped a bone like a dry twig.”

“What about Quidditch?” Blaise asked concernedly.

Harry shook his head. “The Healer didn’t believe me when I said that I’d been playing for years. I have the bones of a sixty year old at just sixteen. Far too weak and brittle to be playing Quidditch. He said a fall off of a chair could have broken a bone, let alone a Quidditch injury.”

Draco swallowed audibly and he took in a deep breath, rolling the information around his mind.

“But you’re going to be fine?”

Harry nodded. “By the summer I’ll be completely better, well, I should be. I’ll need a Healer to sign off on that though, but for now, I’m on calcium potions, bone strengthening potions too, so that a mere fall won’t do as much damage, and nutrient potions to try…to try and rectify the malnutrition that I’m also suffering with.”

“Malnutrition?” Draco said weakly.

Harry nodded. “I’m afraid so. A childhood of abuse and neglect led to me being deficient in some pretty basic vitamins and minerals. Those habits stuck with me and I usually avoid foods I’ve never really eaten before, like the cheeses at Christmas. I was never really allowed cheese, or milk, or any nutritious food, I was mostly fed water, white bread and soup, which led to the calcium deficiency and malnutrition in the first place. Being locked in the cupboard for most of my childhood led to the vitamin D deficiency and I got hypocalcaemia because of it. There are a few others that I’m deficient in also, vitamin A and C and a couple of Bs too, but the nutrient potion will sort those out and I need to start trying new healthy foods, particularly leafy greens.” He said with a pinched face that he couldn’t entirely help.

“I…I can’t believe you’re so…so sick!” Draco mumbled. “You don’t show any signs of illness, not really. I mean, you’re far too skinny, but…I never would have guessed.”

“It gets worse.”

“How?!” Draco demanded.

Harry sighed. “If it hadn’t been found…well, being so deficient in so many essential vitamins and minerals, it would have led to my death, Draco. I could have died from this. The Healers told me that the hypocalcaemia alone would have killed me before I was twenty. Of course Rabastan is beside himself at the news.”

“Those people could have indirectly killed you.” Blaise said simply and Harry nodded in agreement. Draco looked between them and then he clicked on.

“Those Muggle monsters?” He snarled. “Where are they hiding, Harry? They need to be punished for this! You can’t let them get away with such blatant abuse. They could have killed you!”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “It’s over now.” He said.

“It’s not over!” Draco raged. “You’re still suffering for what they did!”

Harry nodded. “Until the summer and then I’ll be completely fine.”

“Why do you still look so unwell?” Blaise cut in when it looked like Draco would cause an argument by demanding where the Dursleys were living.

“The potions are very strong.” Harry said quietly. “They have some pretty serious side effects. The bone strengthening potion causes skull splitting headaches that start a few minutes after I take them and they last for hours, the calcium potions make me drowsy and the nutrient potions cause excess sweating, particularly at night as I have to take them before I go to bed, but I can feel far too warm throughout the day and I do look glassy eyed and…vacant, even when I’m not.”

“I can’t believe that you’re so sick!” Draco said worriedly. “Was it worse when you’d just found out, is that why you stayed home all week?”

“I had more, one off potions to take at first which made me pretty tired and queasy, not to mention the mass of injections I had to have too, they made me lethargic and listless and if you can believe it, I couldn’t actually walk yesterday. I was still lying on the settee, almost comatose, unable to get up.”

“Should you be sitting up?” Draco asked worriedly.

“I’m alright. I was trying to walk around yesterday, but my legs kept folding under me, but I’m much better today. The Healer came by this morning and he said that I was alright to come back, as long as I don’t push myself. Quidditch practices will still be held, but I will be directing from the ground for a while. I’m not allowed to actually fly.”

Draco, who had opened his mouth to argue the Quidditch issue, shut it again and he nodded approvingly.

“Will you be better for the match against Hufflepuff in March?” Blaise asked falsely nonchalant.

Harry chuckled. “Don’t sound so eager. I’ll be fine to play in March. You’re not going to win the Quidditch cup, just accept it and move on, Blaise.”

Blaise scoffed. “We’ve got Ravenclaw in a few weeks now, we’ll smash them and then we’ll smash Hufflepuff too and with you not at a hundred percent anymore, you’ll be slaughtered by Hufflepuff and then Ravenclaw too and then we’ll win on points.”

“Yeah, like I smashed you in the first match of the season.” Harry chuckled. “I was actually sick back then, I just didn’t know that I was, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I was still very sick. I’m getting better by the day now, with every potion that I take. I wouldn’t count on me failing because of this if I were you. You lost to me when I was at my worst and as you fell, so will Hufflepuff and then Ravenclaw.”

Draco chuckled. “If that team didn’t have you…”

“Well they do have me.” Harry said with a proud grin.

“Draco, can’t you do something? Get your parents to take him off the team.” Blaise whined.

Draco laughed then and threw an arm around Harry and pulled him in to rest against him.

“If you won by getting me thrown off the team it would be a hollow victory, it wouldn’t taste as sweet.” Harry told him sagely.

“I don’t care! A victory is a victory.” Blaise declared passionately.

Harry chuckled and, with a sigh, he rested fully on Draco.

“You two look like lovers doing that.” Blaise smirked.

“I’m tired.” Harry said simply.

“He’s not well.” Draco added as he brushed Harry’s messy black hair away from his forehead, exposing the scar for a brief moment before his overlong fringe dropped back into place, hiding it once again.

Harry yawned and he closed his eyes for a moment, still resting on Draco and taking the comfort of having his adoptive brother holding him and caring for him.

The next thing he knew, he was blinking open his eyes and he was in his pyjamas, in his own bed and it was near enough dawn.

Harry groaned and rolled over. He’d forgotten to take the nutrient potion as he’d slept through without waking up. Lucius and Rabastan were going to kill him. A whole year Rabastan and Rodolphus had been taking their incredibly strict potion, diet and exercise regime and not once had they ever forgotten to take a potion, not once had they skipped a meal or an exercise, even if they’d really wanted to. Less than a week he’d been taking these potions and already he’d forgotten one.

He sighed heavily and he sat up. He didn’t know if he should take the nutrient potion now, or leave it until tonight and take his next dose, which meant either a chat with Madam Pomfrey, or a floo call to his Healer. He needed to tell Lucius though. It had been thoroughly drilled into him that if anything, anything at all, went wrong, even something small, he was to immediately own up to it.

Getting up, he went into his little bathroom and he showered, he was still wet and sticky despite not even taking the nutrient potion, but then he supposed that it would take a while for the night sweats to stop, even after he was no longer taking the potions as they needed to work through his system.

He took his shower and he dressed and got ready for his lessons that day. He made sure that the books he needed for his lessons today were packed in his satchel and he made himself a cup of tea. He was confused to see that there was a clean, empty glass vial on the side.

He immediately checked his potions and there was no odd nutrient potion. He had taken it! He just couldn’t remember taking it nor getting into his pyjamas, but he must have done. He smiled and breathed out a sigh of pure relief. He didn’t need to send that letter home, telling his family that he’d forgotten a potion, because he hadn’t forgotten to take it, he had merely forgotten that he had taken it.

He breathed an even bigger sigh of utter relief and he sat down with his tea and pulled some of his more urgent homework assignments towards him. Draco had left a large stack of parchment on his coffee table, with a note on each one telling him which assignment was due when. Draco and Blaise had also been kind enough to leave him both of their notes for each assignment and Harry groaned at how much he had to do. He didn’t feel well enough to be doing this and his head felt wobbly on his shoulders, but he couldn’t give up now, not when he’d shouted at Dumbledore yesterday afternoon about being able to do it when he obviously couldn’t, damn his stubbornness.

He took a deep drink of tea and he started on his most urgent assignments, the ones that he needed for his lessons today and for Monday morning. He had a couple of hours before he had to go down for breakfast and until then, he was going to get as much done as possible. If he could ever get his scattered, stressed mind to focus on the work in front of him that was.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Things were made infinitely more difficult for him when three days later, at eight in the morning, on Monday the twenty-seventh of January, his rings heated up during breakfast. They stayed hot for several seconds before cooling back down and Harry sighed.

He stood up, drained his small glass of awful milk, before he headed back up to his rooms. He changed for the second time in an hour and he dropped off his bag before hurrying, as quickly as his tired, exhausted body allowed him to, out of the castle and over the grounds. He didn’t care about letting anyone know where he was, he didn’t have the time. If anyone had a problem with it, then they could take it up with the Ministry for all he cared. He was too tired for this.

He missed the first portkey, as usual, and he was caught by the second a few minutes later. He stepped forward, the portkey affecting him a little more than usual and he actually stumbled. He hoped to all fuck that no one had been watching him, or worse, had managed to take a photograph of him stumbling around like a fool.

“I’ve got you.” Xerxes’ calm, strong voice broke through his blurred vision and fuzzy head, his strong arm around his back. “Come along.”

“Thank you.” Harry replied softly, trying to get his lost breath back and to clear his spinning head so that he could see where he was going.

“You’re not well. Such things as a bit of assistance matter little on such occasions.”

“Where is my Father?”

“Just up ahead of us. I arrived a little late, I was in an argument with my idiot of a son when my rings heated up.”

“Rhadamanthus needs to drop dead.” Harry snarled viciously, blinking rapidly to bring his eyes back into focus.

“A little loud there, Harry, my son.” Lucius told him, touching his back with Xerxes, his hand just above his Father-in-law’s, walking on his other side.

Harry sighed in frustration and raised both hands to grind the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“That’s not going to help.” Xerxes told him.

Harry dropped his hands and blinked. He chuckled as everything was clear. “It did help. I can actually see now.”

“Are you getting cheeky with me?” Xerxes demanded in jest.

Harry turned to smile tiredly at him.

“You really don’t look well.” Xerxes said worriedly as he laid a hand to Harry’s forehead. Harry had tried to follow the hand with his eyes, but it unbalanced him and he stumbled.

“Have you been sleeping?” Lucius asked him seriously as his arm slipped tighter around his back and held him more firmly.

“Yes.” He replied truthfully. “I’ve actually been sleeping more than usual, it just doesn’t help.”

“Perhaps I should insist to your professors that you are to be given a lighter workload.”

Harry shook his head. “No. Dumbledore told me that he’d wiped the slate clean, so I didn’t have to do any of the work that I’d missed while I was home.”

“That was generous of him.” Lucius said approvingly.

Harry shook his head again and blew out an annoyed breath. “I told him to stuff it and that I would be doing the work that I’d missed when I was home.”

Lucius sighed in disdain. “You stubborn boy.”

“I’ve done it all now.” Harry said proudly.

“At what cost to your fragile health?” Xerxes demanded.

“I just…” Harry trailed off as he wobbled a little and the two men held him upright. “I just want to do my best and I have been resting, I’ve just said that I’m sleeping more than normal, but nothing I do helps. I could stay in bed all day and all night and I’d still feel tired because of those damnable potions. I just want to do my very best and get the best marks that I can.”

“I know that you do and that is very admirable, Harry, but there are some things that are much more important.” Lucius told him seriously. “Have more care with yourself.”

Harry nodded. “Okay, I’ll ask for a lighter workload.”

“It won’t be for a full term.” Xerxes assured him. “Just until you aren’t as weak as a newborn foal.”

“What happens if I can’t get here for a meeting?” Harry asked as he peered around the Ministry, trying to see where he was so that he could figure out how much longer he had to force himself to walk.

“What do you mean?” Lucius asked sternly.

“What if I was still like I was back on Wednesday or Thursday, where I couldn’t walk and was sleeping more than I was awake? How would I get here? How would I even conduct myself in these meetings while so…not myself?”

“Ah, I see what you are trying to say. What if you were physically, or otherwise, unable to attend?” Lucius nodded once as Harry bobbed his head in agreement. “If you are unconscious, or otherwise occupied, at the time of the call, then your name would light up on the member list held by the Chief Warlock and depending on your import to the trial or meeting, it would carry on as normal, or it would be suspended until you could attend. No vote can happen without all members casting their vote, however. So all votes would be suspended until such a time that you were well enough to cast it, or until you named a proxy.”

“A proxy?” Harry asked.

“Someone who has your permission to stand in for you and can cast a vote in your name.” Xerxes told him as they finally made it to the courtroom.

Harry grit his teeth. “Like Dumbledore was using my seats and my votes to do as he wanted?”

“Exactly, but most people acting in a proxy position at least ask the person they are stepping in for which way they want to vote before casting it.” Lucius sneered. “He was abusing you and your Lordships to mould things to his ideals without consulting you first. That is just shy of illegal which is why it was such a serious matter. If you hadn’t have been a minor, and Dumbledore hadn’t have been your guardian, then it would have been very illegal and he’d be in a cell in Azkaban right about now. Alas, I can settle for having him out of the Wizengamot, I can get much more done without him stonewalling me at every turn.”

“What about today?” Harry asked as he allowed Xerxes to help him sit down on the stone bench of the courtroom. “I can’t keep myself standing upright, how am I supposed to argue my point with these people?”

“You only speak up when it’s needed.” Xerxes coached him. “Don’t do too much, try to remain seated so that you force everyone else to look at you, and you hold on to that damnable stubbornness of yours to hide your current illness and to hold your decorum together.”

“Speak slowly, so that your voice doesn’t waver.” Lucius added. “Take nice, deep breaths, perfectly timed pauses to catch your breath and control your temper. Nothing will make you feel worse than a surge of anger. It will make you lightheaded and dizzy and in your state it might just keel you over. We’ve all had to come to these meetings while ill at one time or another, you’ll be just fine.”

Harry smiled at that and he took several nice, deep breaths as he’d been told to, to centre himself and his head cleared a little. He shifted himself, straightened his back and he settled his shoulders, pulling them back while lifting his chin. He could do this. He would force himself to do this, to make his family proud of him. He refused to be the weak link and he pulled all emotion back from his expression. He hid how tired and exhausted he was, how the pain in his head was spiking after he’d taken his stupid bone strengthening potion that morning with his morning tea.

“You are keeping up to date with your potions, yes?” Lucius asked him quietly, almost as if he’d read his mind.

“I am.” Harry answered smoothly, well into his ‘Lord’ persona now. “I’ve brought the calcium potion with me, just in case this meeting runs into excess again as it needs to be taken at lunchtime, but I left the nutrient potion behind, it has to be taken before I go to sleep so I can only take it when I get back anyway.” He said. “I took a headache reliever with the bone strengthening potion, to try and stave off the terrible headache before my lessons so that I could concentrate, but it has done very little so far.”

“Are you in much pain?” Xerxes asked him gently.

Harry shook his head minimally. “No. It is a good thing that I’m so used to such pain.” He answered, thinking of the hideous pain he got when his scar burnt. It hadn’t done as such since he’d been adopted by Lucius.

He did still get odd, detached feelings of happiness that were not his own and he knew from that that Voldemort’s plans were progressing well. Lucius and the Lestranges tried to hide such things from him, they tried to talk in hushed voices about Voldemort’s plans or how their little individual missions were going, but with the connection between them, Harry already knew. He knew if things were going well or not before their little meetings were even called. He didn’t feel the need to mention such things however. The less said about Voldemort in his presence the better in his opinion. He was happier not knowing. He was happier to just ignore it.

“You shouldn’t be used to such things.” Xerxes growled protectively.

Harry was saved from answering by the appearance of Mister Dennis Jute, the accused, being led to the single wooden seat on the floor by two Aurors. The chains clinked and then wrapped around his wrists and forearms, trapping him tight to the chair so that he couldn’t move, or attack the members of the court. As soon as he was secured, the Aurors left the courtroom and closed the door after themselves.

“Mister Dennis Jute, you have been brought here today, before the Wizengamot and the Magical Court of Law to face the charges brought against you. These charges include destruction of Muggle property, the serious injury of two Muggles who had to be treated magically and whose quality of life has been decreased as a result of your actions, and most seriously, the breaking the Statute of Secrecy which includes telling Muggles the location of the English dragon reserve among others. How do you plead?” The Minister asked pompously.

“Guilty, under the influence of alcohol.” The man said, as if that tacked on excuse would make a difference.

Harry breathed in deeply, held for a moment, before breathing out. He repeated this sequence, gearing up for a fight, as the muttering from around the sides of the courtroom indicated that he would have a fight on his hands to have this sentence passed. He could do this, he coached himself, he was determined to do it.

“The accused has pleaded guilty.” The Minister said loudly. “His sentence has already been deliberated and agreed upon by this court. Lord Harry James Potter-Black’s proposal of Azkaban has been agreed upon by this court and the sentence is a mandatory ten years.”

Harry was surprised to hear his own name mentioned, but he wasn’t half as surprised as Mister Jute, who startled comically as he heard that he was being sentenced to Azkaban, to ten years in the prison at that. His eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped.

“I was under the influence of potent Firewhiskey!” He screamed. “You can’t send me to Azkaban for that!”

“The accused is appealing his sentence.” Fudge said. “We will now hear his plea and adjust his sentence as necessary.”

Harry hardened his face and shifted angrily as he heard that the sentence might not pass after all and he readied himself for the coming battle of wits. He wouldn’t allow the sentence to be adjusted in the slightest.

“I was…I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing and I don’t even remember doing it!” Dennis Jute sobbed, all dignity lost. “I didn’t mean it!”

“As the accused has pointed out, he was heavily under the influence of alcohol when this instance took place, a severely reduced sentence is needed.” One member of the Magical Council of Law insisted, cutting in and helping out Mister Jute a little by offering him an olive branch. “I cannot go against Lord Potter-Black.” He sneered, as if begrudging even mentioning his official title. “Or his proposal of a sentence of custody in Azkaban, but we can vote to judge this matter fairly. We can rectify this matter by giving the accused a reduced sentence of a week imprisonment to combat the grave injustice being laid down by our Wizengamot.”

He got claps and cheers for his ridiculous tirade. Harry remained silent, though on the inside he was fuming. Where was the justice for the two Muggles who were in Saint Mungos? Where was the justice for the innocent people that Dennis Jute had harmed, the property that he had damaged, the dragons and their handlers put at risk because of one single man, drunk or not.

“Being a drunken fool does not exclude one from the law!” Someone else piped up. “It cannot be allowed to stand in this court as an excuse for the behaviour shown and the complete disregard for the law!”

Harry shook his head and he sat still and silent. The press was here today in force, he could see many quills scratching against parchment as they recorded what was happening for the morning papers. He had to control himself even more severely here, now, than he had before.

He had had enough just fifteen minutes into the ‘appeal’ however, after continuous arguing back and forth that resulted in nothing but his headache spiking to a new level of pain and the court had achieved very little in that time. It was no wonder that such trials were so lengthy, and how Sirius had been imprisoned with no trial after the back log of trials the war had created because if every trial was handled in this manner, then he could well believe that most war ‘criminals’ had been imprisoned for life without even seeing the inside of a courtroom. He cleared his throat loudly.

The Minister, lost a little in the flood of opposition and confrontation damning his sentence, turned to him with visible, palpable relief.

“The court will hear Lord Potter-Black!” He called out desperately.

Immediately everything quietened down and the power rush of that was like a heady wine as it surged through him and warmed his belly. He ignored the representatives of the press leaning forward, waiting for him to speak so that they didn’t miss a single word that he spoke and he took a nice, deep breath, keeping his face impassive.

“I have been listening closely to the opposition and I have heard countless mentions of ‘unfairness’, of injustice mentioned in relation to this sentence. What I haven’t heard is any sympathy or really any mention of justice for those who were injured or put into harm’s way because of the accused’s actions. To the opposition, where is your concern for those who have been injured? Where is your concern for the Statute of Secrecy? The accused went on a destructive spree through a Muggle city, throwing the blasting hex at anyone and everything in his way, where is your alarm concerning his actions? Why are you sympathising with a drunken brute over innocent people who were harmed during his rampage? Where is your….”

“You cannot hope to understand these matters, you are just a boy, Potter. What are you hoping to achieve, what are you trying to do here?” A member of the opposition shouted at him. “You should be in school, not in this courtroom.”

“You will not interrupt me.” Harry replied calmly after a small pause while everyone else held their breaths to see how he would react. “If you have any questions, you will wait until I am done speaking.” He answered to sniggers from some members of the court. “You will refer to me as Lord Potter-Black, and as nothing else.”

There was silence in the courtroom for a minute as Harry sat, waiting, all attention still upon him and he breathed deeply, trying to think past the awful, skull-splitting headache that he had.

“As I was saying, before I was very rudely and petulantly interrupted, the accused does not deserve leniency when he has broken one of the most fundamental laws of our community. The Statute of Secrecy is in place for a very serious, very needed reason and we cannot allow anyone who knowingly breaks it to…”

“I didn’t know! I was drunk, I swear it! Two bottles of Firewhiskey I had!” Mister Dennis Jute shouted out, almost hyperventilating as he watched Harry talk him into a ten year Azkaban sentence.

Harry again waited several moments after being interrupted before speaking again, pinning his gaze to the accused.

“You were drinking in a Muggle city, were you not?” He questioned.

“I…yes, but I didn’t…I wasn’t…it addled my thinking.”

“It seems to me that your thinking was addled well before you took the first drop.” Harry commented, to further sniggers and surprised chuckles, even Xerxes stifled a small laugh, after he’d disguised it as a small cough. Harry fought to control his expression so that he didn’t smile himself. “Anyone who believes it a good idea to drink more than four glasses of Firewhiskey, let alone two full bottles of it, in the middle of a Muggle city, was not behaving in a reasonable manner. You injured numerous people, two of them seriously, and you risked the death of countless innocent people. That cannot go unpunished. The Minister has set out a fixed sentence of ten years in Azkaban for your serious actions, for your crimes, and I firmly believe that that is no less than you deserve.”

There were cheers to drown out the jeers from the opposition and immediately afterwards, Lucius stood.

“The court recognises Lord Lucius Malfoy.” Fudge declared loudly, a little more settled and much less flustered than he’d been before Harry had spoken.

“My son, Lord Harry, has raised several very prominent facts that needed to be heard.” Lucius said silkily, in the same voice that he might have used at the breakfast table to relay an interesting snippet from the morning newspaper. A voice not suited to speaking in a room filled with hundreds of people, but Lucius made them cling to his every word regardless. “I would, however, wish to go into more detail on this serious breach of the Statute of Secrecy. Such laws are in place to protect all of us, to protect our privacy and this law has been in effect since sixteen-ninety-two. Every magical person has a duty to uphold this most fundamental law. However, it is clause seventy-three that I wish to mention specifically in this case, as the accused has obliterated this serious clause on his spree among other things. Our esteemed members will know that this clause is in place to protect magical beasts from discovery, but also to protect the Muggles from such magical beasts of which they have no hope to defend themselves against. The accused gave out the address to the English dragon reserve, a reserve which has had a surge in Muggles circling around it, all thanks to the accused’s actions. A mere week imprisonment is not sufficient enough to make up for the damage done, nor the laws broken, or the measures that have now had to be used to protect the dragon reserve and the Muggles from said dragons who are contained by that reserve. Though of course, the accused’s friends on this court naturally disagree with us on this point.”

Lucius had only just stopped speaking when he opposition rose up and defended themselves, claiming that they weren’t friends with the accused and that injustice was injustice, but Lucius’ words had done their damage, as he’d anticipated that they would, and Harry’s lips twitched minimally. He forced the smile back and strove for control of himself and his expressions, he could laugh later, in private.

“That was very well handled, Lucius.” Xerxes complimented under his breath, just loud enough for Lucius, on Harry’s other side, to hear him. “Very smooth.”

Lucius inclined his head. “Thank you, but I was feeding off of my wonderful son, who set up much of this by himself.”

Xerxes squeezed Harry’s knee and that made him smile. He was rather enjoying these trials, much more than the mundane meetings which were little more than old men, and women, catching up with one another and nothing important was actually discussed. He was, however, feeling queasy, thanks in part to his splitting skull, and it was getting harder to concentrate the longer this trial carried on. He needed to keep his wits about him, but he just couldn’t keep a hold of his thoughts or follow what others were saying very well, his head felt like it was being pulled into two halves.

The trial carried on for another two hours in the same manner. Harry spoke once again, pointing out the seriousness of the crimes committed and reminding those in the courtroom just how serious this matter was to their secrecy, their safety and to the Muggles’ safety too. He was also called out personally by a member of the opposition and he had had to defend himself from the viscous verbal attack, of which he managed easily, but it was the backing of Lord Dawson Shacklebolt, who had stood up to speak in favour of Harry and the accused going to Azkaban, who had truly hammered in the last nail. Once Dawson had given his approval of Azkaban, and had firmly given his backing to Harry, many others had begun to waver and wane in their support of the accused.

“We will vote now!” A member of the opposition spoke up, as he saw that his support was lessening with every speech and argument that was made, not strengthening as he might have hoped.

“All those in favour of Lord Harry James Potter-Black’s proposal of ten years in Azkaban, raise your wands.” The Minister called out, raising his own wand in the air.

Harry pulled his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and it went into the air, but his teeth were gritted now and he couldn’t see through his blurry eyes to count.

“All those opposed.” The Minister called out and Harry lowered his aching arm back down, sluggishly slotting his wand back into the little, thin pocket that was made especially for a wand.

He sat, with bated breath, waiting for the verdict to be called, but it was Xerxes who clued him in to the results of the vote first because he chuckled darkly and Harry ducked his head to smile his victory to himself.

“The court has voted in favour of Lord Potter-Black. The accused shall be taken immediately to Azkaban and will serve a ten year sentence for his crimes against the wizarding and Muggle populace.”

“No! No, you can’t do this!” Dennis Jute screamed.

Harry’s body went cold and his eyes widened as he realised what was coming. Why hadn’t he thought of this little problem before? It had only just occurred to him that the accused would be sent to Azkaban with Dementors, that he would be exposed to the Dementors who came to collect Dennis Jute. Harry tried to hold himself together, to use his steel will and stubbornness to cling to his dignity and decorum, as two Dementors entered the courtroom through the door behind Dennis Jute. Immediately afterwards, as soon as they were in the room with him, his carefully controlled mask crumbled and he reached out to either side of himself and gripped tight at both Lucius’ and Xerxes’ hands. Sweat didn’t just bead on his head, it dripped down his face and the back of his neck, one drop after another as he shook almost violently. He whimpered softly as the pain in his head spiked to blinding levels and, as the Dementors glided closer to the condemned man, his Mother started screaming in his head.

He felt arms touching him, holding him as he wracked with mild convulsions as he heard his Mother pleading for him, offering herself up in his place. He felt sick and he couldn’t breathe, his eyes rolled up into his head until all he could see was darkness and in that darkness, he heard his Father, telling his Mother to take him and run.

Then the next breath of air came easier, the one after that was warm and he was able to blink. He opened his eyes to see the gravely concerned faces of Lucius and Xerxes. He groaned pathetically.

“Come on, sit up.” Lucius encouraged and Harry realised that he’d flopped to the stone floor like a beached fish.

“Sick.” Harry muttered shortly as he felt the awful sensation tickling the back of his throat as his stomach clenched repeatedly.

“If you’re going to be sick, then be sick. There is a concealment ward around us, no one is any the wiser.” Lucius insisted calmly.

Harry couldn’t have controlled it even if every member of the court were stood up and watching him. The bile, thick and bitter, clawed up his throat and he heaved once, twice and then that bile was in his mouth. He couldn’t stop himself and he vomited onto the stone floor repeatedly, until his throat was sore, his head pounded and his stomach ached and he had nothing left to come out.

“There we go.” Lucius soothed once he realised that Harry wasn’t going to vomit anything more.

“Hate them.” Harry declared weakly.

“I know you do. Come, let us get you home.” Lucius insisted as he hefted Harry from the floor, helping him to get his feet back under him as Xerxes used a simple charm to vanish the mess he had left behind.

He was shivering, convulsing almost in the aftermath of his vomiting and he felt stone cold. He was heavily supported as they made their way down the steps to the same door that the Dementors had taken Dennis Jute through, but thankfully they were long gone with not a trace remaining.

Once out in the wider corridor, Xerxes came and supported him from his other side too, wrapping a large, muscled arm around his back to support his weight.

“I have never seen anyone with such a harsh reaction to the Dementors.” He said worriedly.

“Hate them.” Harry said passionately again.

“I can see why if that is your usual reaction. No wonder you want them gone.”

“Come, you will stay home for an hour or two. I wish to see you eat some chocolate and regain your strength. You were ill before the Dementors arrived, this would not have helped.”

“Basti?” He asked hopefully, looking up at the two older men, who shared smirks over his head.

“I think I can be convinced to go and get him.” Xerxes said mildly and Harry smiled then. Tired, pained and small, but he smiled.

Harry clutched around Lucius’ waist and he was side-along Apparated back to Malfoy manor. He found himself down on his knees, trying to catch his breath upon landing.

Lucius waited patiently, lest he vomit again, as Harry got his breath back before picking him up and supporting him to the drawing room, where Narcissa was sat with a cup of tea and a book.

“What has happened?” She demanded as she looked up and caught sight of what must have been his grey tinged, sweaty face. She didn’t bother marking her page, she immediately dropped the book and came to him, ushering him down into a soft seat and Harry fell into it gratefully.

“Harry had his proposal pushed through and he won the majority vote on the sentencing. Dennis Jute is on his way to start a ten year imprisonment in Azkaban, the filthy mu…muggleborn.”

Harry gave the man holding him upright a weak glare.

“That’s wonderful news, but how did my son get in this condition, Lucius? You said that you’d look after him.”

That made Harry feel warm throughout, knowing that these two people talked about him, that Narcissa had warned Lucius to look after him while they were at court, just like real parents.

“It was the Dementors, Cissa.” Lucius sighed. “Harry has said that he had a bad reaction to them and today I got to witness exactly how badly they affected him and, as per usual, our Harry played down exactly how badly that was too. I should have foresaw that, he has done it with everything else, of course he would have done it with this too.”

“He needs chocolate. Pimsey.”

The little house elf popped into the room and curtseyed. “What can Pimsey be doing for Mistress?”

“The young master needs chocolate and a cup of tea.” Narcissa ordered and Pimsey nodded once and then left the room.

Harry was sipping the tea and nibbling the chocolate when Xerxes entered the room, a worried Rabastan following closely.

“Are you alright?” Rabastan’s voice was tight and high with his concern as he sat next to him and threw his arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him in tight.

Harry nodded, but he shifted himself to lay more of his weight upon Rabastan, resting upon him happily.

“What happened?”

“Dementors.” Harry said softly. “At least I didn’t pass out this time.”

“By the skin of your teeth.” Xerxes added. “I saw your eyes rolling up into your head.”

“I hate the damnable things.”

“I can understand the passion behind your words now.” Xerxes nodded. “If I reacted half as badly as you do then I would want those things gone too, so that I might never run into one ever again.”

“They need to be gone.” Harry said venomously. “Sent away and contained so that they can’t ever go near people ever again. They’re not natural.”

No one said anything, but neither did they scoff at him as if he were a mere whimsical child, like usual when he voiced such an opinion that they didn’t understand and Harry finished his chocolate in silence, taking in the feeling of Rabastan stroking his arm with joy.

He drained his tea and bent over to put the cup on a side table before he moved to lay back against Rabastan, snuggling in more firmly, trying to ignore the light quivering of his body that was still very cold. The tea and the chocolate had helped a little, and Rabastan himself was helping a lot too, but he was only just starting to feel better, more normal. Or as normal as he could while he was so sick.

“How did the trial go?” Rabastan asked him to distract him from his thoughts, still stroking his arm and hair gently, or as gently as he could manage. “I assume you won the majority if the Dementors were present?”

“Oh, you should have seen him, Basti. He was magnificent, truly magnificent.” Xerxes praised. “Despite being very ill on those potions, still weak from his Healer visit, he was able to sit there stoically and hide it perfectly. He spoke clearly and concisely, oh you should have been there to see his reaction when that filth interrupted him! I almost cracked a rib suppressing my laughter.”

“You almost threw me off!” Harry complained. “I could see you out of the corner of my eye and I heard you trying your best not to laugh.”

Xerxes did laugh then, loud and booming, and it made Harry smile cuddled up to Rabastan as he was.

“It was truly inspired! ‘You will wait until I am done speaking if you have any questions.’ I swear on Merlin himself I have never enjoyed a trial as much as that one, and when that imbecile Jute tried to claim that the Firewhiskey had addled his thinking, our beautiful, clever boy here turned around and you know what he said, Basti? He turned around, as quick as a whippet, and he said ‘it seems to me that your thinking was addled well before you took the first drop’ and I had actual tears in my eyes from suppressing my laughter, I was so surprised that I had to turn my startled laughter into a cough!”

Rabastan laughed too and Harry smiled softly as he felt Rabastan’s chest rumble with laughter under his ear.

“Are you feeling any better?” Narcissa asked him, laying a slim hand on his head.

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

“You still look a little pale and distressed.”

Harry bit his lip and turned away.

“Harry.” Lucius warned, his smile and laughter fading away as he realised that Harry was, again, hiding more than he was letting on.

“I hear my parents being murdered when the Dementors come close to me. It…it’s not. It’s not something that I’d ever want to hear.” He said sadly. “The only time that I’ve ever heard their voices and it’s that. It’s them being murdered, trying to protect me. I want to hear their voices, but at the same time I don’t, not like that and it makes me so confused, because that’s the only way I’ll ever get to hear them, but it’s so painful to hear them being murdered, for me.”

Rabastan kissed the side of his head and Harry smiled tenuously.

“Go and take a bath, sweet one.” Narcissa told him, because truly there was nothing else anyone could say. “It’ll warm you up.”

Harry snuggled in closer to Rabastan and he shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“Harry, go upstairs and warm yourself up.” Narcissa told him sternly.

Harry frowned. “Can I take…?”

“No, you may not take Rabastan with you. It is very improper.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped.

“Surely I can sit outside the door?” Rabastan asked. “Just in case he has an accident while he’s so unwell and shaky.” He added respectfully.

Narcissa drew in a deep breath, but she made the mistake of looking into Harry’s wide, green, pleading eyes. She blew out all the breath in her lungs and she nodded.

“Very well.” She acquiesced. “If it will get you into the bath, so be it. But you…” She said rounding in on Rabastan. “If you set one foot into that bathroom I will know of it! You stay outside the room at all times!”

Rabastan nodded his head. “Of course, Lady Malfoy.”

Harry stood and he tried not to show his excitement as he took Rabastan’s hand and made his way up to his bed suite and into his bathroom. He ran the bath and looked back at Rabastan who had dragged a chair to the wall beside the door and had sat upon it sideways.

Harry’s grin was anything but innocent as he started taking off his robes.

“Harry, the door is open.” Rabastan told him, as if he had merely forgotten to close it.

Harry chuckled deeply. “You have to stay outside of the bathroom, absolutely no one said that the door had to be closed.” He said naughtily.

He watched as Rabastan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard and those dark blue eyes widened with the realisation of what he was doing. Rabastan took a nice, deep, calming breath and watched, riveted, as Harry stripped off his shirt and trousers, leaving just his boxers on. Harry got a bit shy then, but he took his own calming breath and slid the plain black boxer-briefs down and he winked at Rabastan to cover his nervousness with false bravado. Rabastan actually growled at him as Harry climbed into the bath and he sighed happily as the warm water washed away the lingering chill of the Dementors.

“Oh, that’s so much better.” He groaned happily.

“You are purely evil.” Rabastan growled, watching as Harry dipped a washcloth into the water and started soaping up his chest and arms.

Harry chuckled and he slowed down his movements, making them less quick and efficient and more provocative and alluring.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, my love.” Harry said falsely innocent, thinking that this was definitely pay back for the hand job in the family room filled with people.

“I bet you fucking don’t you little bloody tease!” Rabastan burst out gutturally and Harry looked at him with a smile.

He chuckled at the look on Rabastan’s face. “We’re engaged now, Rabastan. Very soon we’ll be married and sleeping together and able to do as we please.”

“Not soon enough.” Rabastan replied.

Harry got a very evil idea and he stood in the bath, letting the water run rivulets down his skin, as he took the soapy washcloth to his lower belly, hips and legs. He couldn’t describe the noise that Rabastan made, but it was animal like and heavy and deep with lust.

Harry cut a glance to him and he couldn’t help laughing, as Rabastan was leaning forward in the chair, as if to get a better view. It was his Fiancé’s gaze more than the water that was warming him up.

“This is torture.” Rabastan groaned, but his eyes were glued to Harry’s body.

“Then don’t look.” Harry said simply.

“That would be even more tortuous!” Rabastan declared. “I’d be imagining what you were doing instead of watching it and sometimes, the mind can be worse than the reality.”

Harry chuckled softly before sitting down and washing away the soap. He lay back and wet his hair before he washed it and rinsed it. He climbed out of the bath and wrapped himself up in a warm, fluffy towel.

“Oh, I forgot my clothes.” He said with a grin and a wink at Rabastan, who exhaled so harshly that Harry was almost concerned for him.

He danced past where Rabastan was sat and avoided the outstretched arm that reached out to grab him with a small giggle.

Rabastan did not allow him to escape however, he leapt up with more strength and speed than Harry was expecting and he wrapped his arms around him tight, his bristly chin rubbing against Harry’s cheek as he searched for his mouth to kiss him.

Harry turned around and wrapped his arms around Rabastan’s neck, dropping his towel in the process. Rabastan growled as his hands found smooth, bare skin that was still damp and warm from Harry’s bath and he stroked his hands up and down over as much skin as he could.

Harry broke their kiss with a laugh and he slipped out of Rabastan’s arms and went to his dresser, showing off his bum in the process. He was a little embarrassed, but let no one ever say that he wasn’t brave or courageous as he bent down to slip on his fresh pair of boxer-briefs. He turned back to look at Rabastan, who was just staring at him, his mouth slightly open.

Harry laughed. “Are you okay?”

Rabastan swallowed hard. “Never better. You truly are beautiful. So beautiful.”

Harry smiled and went to Rabastan, wrapping his arms back around his Fiancé. “I love you.” He declared seriously.

Rabastan’s smile was predatory as he swooped down and kissed him hard, once again his hands touched and stroked as much skin as he could, even cupping Harry’s bum with both hands, lamenting that Harry had already pulled on his boxers.

“You need to get dressed before I have my arse handed to me.” Rabastan scowled, as if he couldn’t believe that he was saying such a thing, but knowing that he had to.

Harry laughed and he reached around to squeeze one of Rabastan’s bum cheeks with his whole hand, as Rabastan had done to him.

“We can’t have that, can we?” He laughed as he went to get dressed, leaving Rabastan looking slightly shell shocked.

“Did you just pinch my arse?!” He demanded as he watched Harry slip into his trousers.

“No, I squeezed it, my love. If I’d pinched it, it would have been finger and thumb, not my whole hand.” Harry said easily, trying not to laugh as he buttoned up his crisp, white shirt.

He failed at the look Rabastan was wearing and he was almost bent double with laughter.

“Well you’re looking much better.” Lucius said as he walked in with no warning.

“I feel better.” Harry said with a smile. “My headache is easing off too, which can only be a good sign. That headache reliever did absolutely nothing, though.”

“Good, you’re recovering. Now come and eat something and get a cup of tea into your system before you head back.”

Harry followed Lucius, pulling Rabastan by the hand after him. He noticed as they went down the stairs that Rabastan wasn’t even holding onto the bannister with his other hand. There had been a time, not even all that long ago, when he’d had to consciously put himself on the other side of Rabastan from the bannister because his, then betrothed, had needed to hold on going up or down the stairs to support himself. He had needed the bannister to get himself up or down the stairs and now, he wasn’t even holding on and he wasn’t putting any extra weight onto him, either.

Rabastan could grumble about himself still being weak, or not as strong as he once was, but he was improving every time that Harry saw him now and he couldn’t have been prouder of his Fiancé for the progress that he had made since last summer…well really since he’d escaped from Azkaban over a year ago now. Harry couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for Rabastan, and Rodolphus, when they’d first been broken out of Azkaban. He’d seen them several months into their recovery, and he wasn’t going to lie, that had been bad enough, but from what little he’d gleaned from Draco, Lucius and Rabastan himself, this time last year had been a very bad time for the two Lestrange brothers. Harry was so proud of how far the both of them had come in a single year.

“Are you feeling better, darling?” Narcissa asked him, pressing another bar of Honeydukes’ finest chocolate into his hands.

“Yes. I feel much better now.” He said with a smile, sending a sly, secret look to Rabastan over his shoulder. He got the pleasure of seeing those blue eyes darken with lust and Rabastan put a heavy arm around his waist. He couldn’t wait until they were married together.

“It has just gone lunch time, do you want something to eat before you go back?” Narcissa asked him.

Harry considered that and he sighed, shaking his head. “No. I’ll hold out with just chocolate until dinner. I’ve got to take my potion though.”

“Do that now. You don’t want to fall behind with them.”

Harry nodded and he took out the vial of the calcium potion and got the chocolate ready. He was given a new cup of tea and Harry knocked back the bottle of potion with Rabastan’s supporting hand on his back. He grimaced and gulped his tea, taking several chunks of chocolate to take away the awful taste.

Rabastan was holding around his waist, rubbing his back gently to ease him through the disgust of taking the potion.

“Are you done?”

Harry nodded. “It’s all down.” He insisted, pushing the empty vial away from him. “The things I do for my future children.”

“Pardon me?” Lucius asked, those grey eyes narrowed.

“Oh that’s right, you were out of the room for that conversation. Yeah, apparently the heavier pregnant I got with the condition that I have, if I lived long enough to fall pregnant I was reminded, then the more dangerous it would have been. The baby would have put too much pressure on my hips and spine and both would have probably broken before I carried to full term. The baby might have taken out several ribs too. I might have the ability to carry a baby, but apparently that doesn’t mean that I’m medically fit to carry one.”

“But…these potions will rectify that, yes?” Xerxes asked him.

“Grandfather!” Rabastan hissed. “Harry has just said that a baby…that my baby, could have killed him if we hadn’t found out about this condition! You need to think of the higher priority!”

“The Lestrange family needs an Heir, Rabastan, and Rodolphus won’t even try! That leaves you alone.”

“It’s a moot point!” Harry cut above them both before a fight could start over him. “The condition was found, I’m rectifying the damage and healing the cause of it. I will be healthy and able to carry a baby a year or so before we are married. It’ll just be more dangerous if I carry anything other than singletons.”

“How so?” Lucius asked him.

“The Healer pointed out, when he saw in my notes that I carried the gene, that my hips were very narrow. That leaves little room for the baby to go lengthways, it’ll be all bump.” He said holding his hands stretched well in front of him to demonstrate. “If I have a big baby anyway, and with the Lestrange’s genes I have to take that into account, there is going to be little to no room left for a second baby.”

“What if there is a second baby?” Xerxes asked.

“As far as I’m aware there is no record of twins being in your family or mine.” Harry said.

“Male conception is different.” Rabastan told him gently. “Sometimes twins do pop up out of nowhere.”

Harry sighed. “Why am I only just hearing of this now?!” He asked, trying to cling onto his anger so that he didn’t blow things out of proportion. “You do remember that I was raised by Muggles? I had no clue that there was even any sort of gene that allowed wizards to fall pregnant, how can you just expect me to know that sometimes multiples just spring up out of nowhere?!”

“You’re not going to be having a baby for another year and a half, we didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon.” Narcissa told him gently.

Harry groaned. “It makes more sense now why that Healer kept talking about the options I had if I fell pregnant with multiples then. The Healer told me that if I did have trouble carrying, or if I did conceive multiples, then the pressure on my body might be too much for me, and my magic, to handle. I am not a big guy and I’m narrow. I won’t be able to easily support a multiple pregnancy.”

“What options are there?” Rabastan asked him.

“Selective reduction.” Lucius said immediately.

Harry nodded. “In order to save one baby, the Healers would…terminate the weaker one. It might be the only way. I denied it at the time, but finding out about the state of my body, how weak it is, how delicate. If I don’t take the selective reduction, if it’s needed in the first place of course, then I could die from the strain that the pregnancy would put my body under and I might take the children with me too if they can’t be cut out of me in time.”

“I don’t want you to die.” Rabastan said softly, his arms embracing him carefully.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Xerxes asked angrily.

“Before what?” Harry demanded, an immediate flare of icy anger surging within him, threatening to rip away his hard won self-control. “I found out about it last bloody week, when was I supposed to have told you? When I was feverish and delirious? While I was vomiting up my insides? When I was sleeping off the ridiculously strong potions I have to take just to keep me alive past my twentieth birthday? I could have fucking died from this, Xerxes! I had other things on my mind than a pregnancy that won’t happen for another eighteen months! But no, you’re hung up on the fact that I forgot to tell you that my sixty year old, broken body couldn’t handle a pregnancy and that the severe malnutrition I’m suffering with, thanks to a childhood of abuse, might make it difficult for me to carry twins in the future. I had other things on my mind and I didn’t care about anything else! I could have died!”

Xerxes was the one to breathe deeply then. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made it seem like I cared more about your ability to fall pregnant than I do about you. It has just been a little bit of a shock to hear more bad news about your, already delicate, health. Of course I care more about the fact that you almost died, you’ve come to mean a lot to me and I’ve come to care for you. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise.”

Harry eased down and he nodded, before turning back to Rabastan, even as he was still speaking to Xerxes. “It’s okay. I know it’s a shock. It was a shock for me too. I’ll be better by the summer with a bit of luck and though I’m far too narrow to ever comfortably carry anything more than singletons, I will be able to have children, just not right now.”

“Then I believe it’s a good thing that you’re not getting married until after you graduate.”

Harry smiled tiredly and he sighed. “I might never have known. That’s what’s hitting me the hardest at the moment. That’s what I can’t really come to terms with, that I would never have gone for that check-up on my own, that I would have died in my late teens or early twenties because…because of what those people did to me.”

“Don’t call them people, darling. That is far too generous a term for them.” Narcissa told him savagely and that made Harry smile again.

“If you told us where they lived…” Xerxes coached gently, but Harry was already shaking his head.

“You know that I won’t. I want it over with now.”

“How can it be over when you’re still suffering? We should at least legally prosecute them, Harry and get justice for you.” Lucius told him.

“I don’t want to.” He said simply. “I’m looking to my future now, I’m looking ahead, not behind. That’s what’s important to me.”

He looked up into those blue eyes that he loved and he smiled, wider as Rabastan reached up to cup his cheek gently.

“You’re important to me.” His Fiancé told him seriously and Harry felt warm right down to his toes. “I will do anything for you.”

Harry hugged him tighter just for a moment before he stepped back, looking to the clock. He sighed.

“I think it was time that you were getting back.” Lucius said, noting immediately where he had looked and why. “Say goodbye to Rabastan.”

Harry grinned then, as he got an idea stuck in his mind, and he slid his hands up into Rabastan’s hair and pulled his head down and he kissed him hard and passionately. Rabastan took over easily and clutched him tight to the front of his body and Harry couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face when he felt a twitch near his belly. A twitch that had not been caused by a spontaneous spasm from overstrained muscles.

“Alright, that’s more than enough of a goodbye.” Narcissa announced poisonously.

Harry and Rabastan broke apart and Harry chuckled softly. “I’ll see you again soon.”

“I’ll write to you today.” Rabastan told him, his blue eyes burning with heat. “It should be with you in a few days.”

Harry smiled a crooked grin. He moved forward and he kissed Rabastan again feeling those strengthening arms wrap around his back and hold him close, with a lot more confidence than Rabastan had had before. He was coming on in leaps and bounds now, as was his confidence, and it made him so very happy to see.

“Come along. I will escort you to the school, just in case there are any issues with your landing or your absence for the morning.”

Harry went to Lucius and allowed himself to be side-along Apparated to Hogsmeade with a last, small wave to Rabastan. He landed hard, again, and he groaned as his head gave a feeble throb.

“Are you going to vomit?” Lucius asked him, not unkindly, still holding his arm and around back to keep him on his feet.

“No. My head throbbed a little, that’s all.” Harry explained miserably.

“Come along then. Lunch will be ending soon and I wish for you to be back in your afternoon lessons with no delays.”

Harry looked up at the imposing form of the castle in front of him and he took a deep breath. He had survived the trial in a worse state than he was in now, he was sure that he could survive his afternoon lessons too, even if he had to force himself through them with sheer stubbornness and force of will. He wouldn’t allow this condition to get the better of him. He would carry on as normally as he could, faking health and fitness if he needed to, as he’d done during the trial. Anything else was unacceptable as he refused to be the weak link of his family, his adopted one or the one he would receive upon his marriage to Rabastan.

He would not let them down or give them a reason to be disappointed in him. He would make them proud of him, whether that took the form of eloquence and intelligent forethought in the Wizengamot, the highest possible marks he could receive at school and in his exams and doing his duty to his, and to Rabastan’s, bloodlines, then that was what he would do.

He would throw himself into everything that he did, because at the end of the day all he’d ever wanted was a family of his own and to be accepted wholly and completely and it had taken the man next to him adopting him as a son to finally get what he’d always wanted. He could never give that up now, he couldn’t give them up, so the only thing left to him was to defend them all fiercely and loyally with all that he was, because they had seen through him and they had raised him up and gave him all the help he could possibly need and the support and the tools to advance himself and now, with one trip to the hospital, they had also saved his life. It was clear cut in his mind now, he owed them everything, the Malfoys and the Lestranges, and as far as he was concerned, he was one of them now and he would, in actual fact, legally be a Lestrange as soon as he married Rabastan. He raised his left hand up to his mouth and he kissed his engagement ring. He was one of them and he was proud to be. Nothing else now even mattered, not even Voldemort and the brewing war. He would not be a part of it and whatever the outcome, as long as his family, all of them, were safe and well, he didn’t much care what else happened around him.

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A/N: This chapter has been posted two weeks earlier than planned to celebrate its nomination and first place win in the Fanatic Fanfic Awards yesterday. Thank you to those who not only nominated it to go up for this award, but for voting on it to receive first place and for me to win first place in the Favourite Veteran Author category too, thank you all so much, I hope that you all enjoyed chapter fourteen.

The Rise of the Drackens will be posted now next week, for the fifth year anniversary on the twenty-sixth, seriously cannot believe that five years have passed by so quickly, but there we go, and Tainted Blood will be up the week after that too, so we have a busy few weeks ahead!

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The Guile and Devotion of a Black Heir