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Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59826 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its associated characters are property of J K Rowling, not me. This story is not being written for profit, just for the lols.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
16th November 1990: Afternoon

"Woah, that was a huge yawn." George noted to Harry as the dark haired boy's jaw relaxed after, what had been accurately described as, a huge yawn.

Harry and the two Weasley brothers were wandering down one of the many corridors of Hogwarts on their way to their first lesson of the afternoon which just happened to be Defense Against the Dark Arts. The teacher from the year before, Professor Belsey, was still the teacher though it was already rumoured that this would be her last year before she retired. Harry thought that was a huge shame. Despite the fact the elderly woman was dead boring and had a grandmotherly voice which could easily send you into a peaceful sleep, she was a lovely woman who was extraordinarily kind. She was Harry's favourite teacher, after his father of course.

"You've looked dead on your feet all day come to think of it." Fred mused, carrying on from his brother. "Did you not sleep well last night?"

Truth of the matter was that Harry had spent the majority of the night outside talking to snakes again but he was not going to tell them that. "No, I didn't. Couldn't get comfortable and then when I finally did manage to drift off I kept waking up."

"You didn't each much breakfast." George remembered.

"Or lunch." Fred added.

"Sure you're not coming down with something, mate?"

It would hardly be surprising if Harry did come down with something as he had been spending so much time outside at night in the middle of British autumn. He felt perfectly healthy though. The reason why he had eaten so little for breakfast was because he was not a breakfast person. He never felt hungry first thing in the morning; hunger usually set in at around eleven o'clock in the morning. Today, the hunger had not even set in then so he had eaten little for his lunch. That bit was unexplainable; he did not know why he had not been hungry at that point.

"I don't think I am." Harry assured them both as they turned a corner, entering the corridor that the DADA classroom was located. "I'm just not particularly hungry today. No doubt I'll make up for it at dinner though."

"Well, gotta admit, you don't look peaky or anything." Fred admitted, leaning closer to his friend and peering at Harry's face intently.

"We'll hold you to that promise to eat a big dinner just in case though." George grinned easily, the door to the DADA classroom drawing ever closer.

"I didn't exactly promise to eat a big dinner." Harry corrected him playfully, now only a few paces away from the classroom door.

One of the twins made a reply but Harry was barely able to hear it, let alone identify which twin it was who spoke. As he covered those last few paces and walked through the threshold into the classroom, sound and sight and sensation vanished for him. Abruptly he found himself in a void of black nothingness.

He looked around himself quickly, turning when He caught sight of something in the corner of His eye. It was a figure in dark crimson robes and, with their back to Him, it was hard to tell whether it was a man or a woman as even the back of the head was covered by what looked like some kind of turban. He was just about to step forward and try and talk to the person when a voice suddenly came, sounding as if it was being spoken from everywhere, all around Him, all at the same time.

"This is a great honour you have been granted."

"Yes my, Lord, I know it is."

"Then why is it you continue to fail to show your gratitude?"

"I apologise, my Lord, but supporting you, both physically and mentally, is exhausting and I'm not yet used to it..."

"I have no desire to listen to your pathetic excuses."

"I'm sorry, my Lord."

"Tell me you have at least secured your position?"

"The process is in motion, my Lord; my application has been submitted."

Just as always when such things happened, Harry's surroundings returned to him in an abrupt rush. Although everything remained dark as his eyes were closed, the sounds of frantic calls became known to him. He also quickly realised that he was no longer standing up straight, instead being held up by the arms of someone who was standing behind him. His head swam uncomfortably but he managed to hear some of what was being said around him:

"Someone go and alert Madam Pomfrey!"

"What happened to him?"

"We don't know, he just suddenly passed out!"

"Mr Malfoy, please step aside so I can levitate him to the Infirmary."

"No, I'm not letting him go!"

"Mr Malfoy, unless you're strong enough to carry him all the way to the Infirmary from here then I suggest you step aside."

Each voice blended together making it almost impossible for Harry to recognise anyone's voice properly. He consciousness began to slip little by little and the last thing he was properly aware of was the sensation of being lifted up off of the ground, his feet totally leaving the floor and the arms leaving him as well. After that, everything continued to get increasingly lucid before, eventually, everything slipped away completely.

Harry was unconscious for no more than five minutes in all and the moment he had properly woken, everything that had happened instantly returned to the front of his memory. He groaned quietly, curling into a tight ball and pulling the thin sheet of the Infirmary bed he was in firmly over his head. That was exactly what he had not wanted; to see something and then pass out in front of everyone. Now, practically every student in Second Year had seen him faint for apparently no reason which was beyond embarrassing.

Still curled up into a ball, Harry considered what he had seen, or, to put it more accurately, what he had heard since there had been very little to look at. One of the voices he had heard, he definitely recognised; it had sounded a lot like Voldemort only more raspy and strained than the last time he had heard the man speak. The second voice was a complete mystery though, a mystery which was kept company by the question of what it had all meant. Could Voldemort possibly be back? Surely that was impossible. Both Lucius and Peter Pettigrew had seen the evil man die...But was it, in fact, possible? And if it was, what did it mean for him?

Harry found that the air underneath the sheets was getting rather stale and it was getting hard to breathe in properly. So, somewhat reluctantly, he pushed the sheets away from himself until they were bunched at his waist, leaving the top half of his body free. He noticed that, besides him, the fuzzy-looking Infirmary (he did not have his glasses on) was empty, which was rather relieving. Unfortunately, no sooner had he thought that thought, the doors to the room opened and Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, heading straight for him.

"Back with us then, Mr Snape?" The woman said briskly as she approached.

"Yes ma'am." Harry said quietly, desperately trying to quickly think of a plausible excuse for having fainted like that.

"Sit up then and let me take a look at you so we can figure out why you felt the need to scare half the school to death."

Harry obediently shuffled into a sitting position and the Mediwitch wasted no time in looking him over with her eyes and her wand.

"Honestly, the people in this school; you'd think no one had ever seen a person faint before. Cries that you'd been hexed somehow, claims that you were dying; it was astounding, it really was. So much fuss for nothing. And don't even get me started on Mr Malfoy and your father." The woman tutted as she took the blushing boy's wrist and felt his pulse. After a few seconds of stillness, she replaced his hand where it was before giving him a stern look. "Well I can find nothing wrong with you. How have you been sleeping lately?"

"I, uh, haven't been sleeping too well for the past couple of nights or so." Harry revealed meekly, knowing that was not a completely believable reason.

"A few sleepless nights do not account for collapsing in the middle of the day, Mr Snape."

"I didn't eat any breakfast either and not that much lunch; just half a sandwich and a cup of tea."

"Well no wonder you fainted then if you've eaten so little today." Madam Pomfrey said, her tone exasperated. "And why have you decided that eating barely anything today was a good idea?"

Harry shrugged a little and kept his eyes down. "Just wasn't particularly hungry."

"That is a very poor excuse, Mr Snape. But as I can find nothing wrong with your health then it will have to do. Now, I am going to get you something to eat and you are going to eat all of it. You won't be going to anymore classes today but you will attend dinner in the Great Hall where you will eat a proper dinner or else I will personally fill your plate and watch you eat every last scrap on it. Do I make myself clear?" She did not even wait for a reply before she turned and walked briskly out of the Infirmary doors, no doubt off to get Harry some food.

"Crystal." The boy murmured as he kept his eyes down on his lap, only aware that the Mediwitch had left when the soft sound of doors closing reached him.

*****************************************************************

16th November 1990 - Early Evening

Harry sighed lightly as he gave a quick tap on the door to the Potions classroom and then shuffled on his feet awkwardly as he waited for the voice to come, inviting him to enter. His father had no doubt been informed of the reason for his fainting and that was also the most likely reason why the man had sent him a note at dinner asking that he come down to his rooms afterwards. Strangely, Severus had not been at dinner, hence the note instead of being ordered face to face, and Harry could not help but wonder if there was maybe something else wrong.

When no reply came after a few seconds, Harry pushed the door open anyway and peered into the classroom. It was empty. Frowning slightly, the boy moved into the room, closing the door behind him. He made his way down the middle of the room, along the path created by the aisles of desks and chairs, making his way to the door into his father's personal rooms. Upon reaching it, he repeated the same process as before; knocking and then waiting for an invite to enter.

"Come in, Haryon." Severus's voice came from the other side of the door seconds later.

Harry took in a deep, cleansing breath before he pushed the door open and entered the room behind. He was greeted with both the sight of his father sitting in an armchair by the fire-place and of his godfather lounging on the three-seat sofa. Seeing both the men present, Harry understandably jumped to conclusions: "Has something happened?"

"Don't worry, everything's fine. Well, apart from your little performance outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that is." Lucius told his godson easily, his tone teasing more than anything.

"How comes you're here then?" Harry asked curiously as he moved further into the room.

"Merely a social visit. It was just as well that I chose to visit today really; someone had to be here to make sure your father didn't go rushing to your side un-necessarily." The blond said with a slight smirk in the dark haired man's direction.

"That's enough, Lucius." Severus said to his friend in a warning tone to which Lucius merely quirked an eyebrow but said nothing else. "Now Haryon," the man began, turning his attention to his son. "What's this Madam Pomfrey tells me about you having trouble sleeping and skipping meals?"

"I haven't been skipping meals!" Harry insisted quickly. "I just haven't that hungry today."

"And the trouble sleeping?" Snape enquired.

Harry simply looked off at a corner of the room and gave a small shrug of his shoulders.

His father sighed gently and looked down at his son with a sad gaze. "Haryon, you know you can tell me anything. Is there something bothering you?"

"No, nothing, Father." The boy assured truthfully, lifting his gaze. "I know now to eat even if I don't feel like it, just to make sure and I'm sure my sleeping pattern with return to normal soon."

The two men studied Harry carefully for a few, long minutes and he tried desperately to not shift under their steady gazes. Eventually, after what felt like a horribly long time, Severus turned from his son and headed over to one of the high-up shelves which held several bottles of various different potions. Lucius also looked away at that point, opting to study his finger-nails instead of his godson. Silence took over then, broken only by the crackling of the open fire and the clinking of bottles hitting other bottles. Then, Snape returned to stand in front of the boy, holding a single vial between his long, thin fingers.

"Take this tonight, just before you go to sleep." He instructed in a monotone.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously, holding the glass tube up and peering at the liquid inside.

"Dreamless Sleep." Severus answered causing Harry to look up at him in surprise; he usually only got that when he was ill. "Only for tonight however, just to get you back into a sleeping pattern again." He explained, understanding the look he had just received.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and acceptance as he put the vial away into the pocket of his school robes.

"Now I don't doubt that you have assignments due in for tomorrow which you have not yet started." His tone lightened ever so slightly when he said that, obviously half teasing and slightly amused.

"Erm, yeah." Harry admitted with a small blush. He stepped up to his father and stood up on tip-toes to press his usual parting kiss to the man's cheek. "Goodnight, Father." He bid as he retreated from the kiss and turned to leave the room. "Goodnight to you as well, Uncle Lucius."

"Good night, Haryon, sleep well." The blond said after him just as Harry opened the door and left the room, closing it behind himself but not before he heard him speak to his father this time: "There's something he's not telling you."

"I know." Was all the reply the boy heard before he shut the door and all noise from inside the room ceased.

******************************************************************

23rd February 1991: Midday

Harry never swore much, it was something he was quite proud of. True, he sometimes said the odd "bloody hell" but that was his usual limit and compared to some of the things his Year mates and the older House mates said, it was hardly anything. However, at that very moment, as he ran through the corridors of Hogwarts on his way down to the dungeons, there was only one word which echoed through his mind constantly:

Shit.

He was an idiot. He was a grade O, complete and utter idiot. He was an idiot who had too much faith in the good will of all creatures, even conniving little buggers like snakes. After all, just because a small handful of the snakes who were in residence inside the Forbidden Forest were nice and friendly, it did not mean that they all were as he had just found out the hard way. Because, after all these months of talking to deadly poisonous snakes without incident, it had finally happened; he had finally been bitten.

It was not even a justified bite! Harry had done absolutely nothing wrong! He had just stopped by the edge of the Forbidden Forest for a Saturday afternoon chat with his snakey friends. Instead of his friends however, what he got was a bloody impolite snake who would rather have bitten him then said a polite, "I'd rather not talk to you." Hell, even an impolite, "get the hell away from me pinky!" would have been preferable over the two neat puncture wounds which decorated his hand.

And another reason why he was an idiot; he just had to choose the most poisonous snakes in the Forbidden Forest! After that first night, he had got a book out of the school library to look up the species of snake he had made friends with. It was called an Arsenic Fang and, as the name suggests, its venom was as deadly to humans as arsenic. Once in the blood stream, there were only two ways to get it out: a very complicated cleansing charm which was usually specially learned by people who worked with snakes (ie, no one in Hogwarts) or something which Harry knew for a fact was in his father's personal potions ingredients storage cupboard.

The poor, poisoned Gryffindor was not only panicking that he only had another fifty-five minutes or so left to live but also had a complex about not worrying anyone or causing a fuss no matter what. So, considering these facts, it was not too surprising that instead of doing the smart thing and going to Madam Pomfrey or Severus for help, he was going to raid his father's storage cupboard. How was he going to do it without his father noticing him? He was not completely sure; he just figured he would wing it and see what happened.

Harry held his wounded hand to his chest protectively, hiding it with his healthy hand so not to draw even more attention to himself. The two neat puncture wounds were more than a little obvious after all; small amounts of the creamy blue poison of the snake oozed out of the two holes every so often and the whole hand was getting red and swollen. It would be fine though. He just needed to avoid coming across everyone on his way to and from the dungeons. And he also needed for his dorm room to be empty of his dorm mates too...That was not asking too much right?

It obviously was, because a mere second or two later, once Harry had stumbled around a corner awkwardly, he went crashing straight into Fred and George who were walking around the corner as well. "Woah, watch where ya going, mate." Fred laughed as he caught Harry before he could fall back.

"Yeah, where's the fire?" George joked with a playful grin but it faded the instant Harry lifted his head properly, revealing his paled face and his slightly panicked eyes. "Harry? Is something wrong?" He asked quickly, stepping to the smaller boy's side.

"Bloody hell, Harry, what happened to your hand?" Fred gasped as he caught sight of the bite on Harry's hand which was stained a sickly purple, where the poison had mixed with his blood, and was seriously swollen now. Harry tried to quickly hide his hand but Fred was quicker; he reached forward and grabbed his wrist, giving a small tug forward so he could have a better look.

"Something bit you?" George asked when he saw the injury as well.

"There's no time to explain now, I don't have much time." Harry said quickly, pulling away and going to hurry down the corridor again.

"But the Infirmary is that way." Fred told him, pointing back in the direction Harry had just come in.

"I'm not going to the Infirmary, I'm going to the dungeons."

"To tell your dad?" George asked as he and his brother chased after their friend.

"No, to get something from his personal storage room."

"You're not telling him!" Fred cried.

"There's no need to worry him; I know how to handle this. Why don't you two go back to the common room? There's no reason for you to get dragged down with me if I get caught."

"No way, we're helping." George insisted. "There's gotta be something we can do to help you. Keep watch or something; oh! We could create a distraction!"

Harry sighed reluctantly, not wanting to burden his friends with this problem. Though they had been the ones to offer and since they already knew there really was no reason to not accept the help... "All right then." He conceded as they officially entered the dungeons. "If you could just keep watch outside for me, I won't take more than a few seconds; I know exactly what I'm looking for and where it's kept."

"Right, we can do that." George said and, although he looked less than happy, Fred said nothing in protest.

The three boys stopped talking then and made the rest of the journey in silence. Before too long, they had reached the corridor which contained the storage room. Harry skidded to a stop before his two friends and tried to pull on the handle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. He began to fish around in his robes for his wand but with a rapidly numbing hand it was not easily. Eventually, Fred stepped forward to help, casting a quick Alohomora for him. That did the trick and allowed Harry to pull the door open without any more fuss, revealing the copious number of potion ingredients it held.

"Okay, go on, hurry up." Fred whispered, ushering Harry in even as the smaller boy hurried past him.

Harry headed straight over to the left, back-hand corner of the storeroom. He dropped onto his knees, ignoring the small pang of pain which throbbed through them with the impact. He wasted no time in pulling out the rack of potion-filled vials which were in front so he could get to what was at the back. It was a little awkward as he could only use one hand and the rack and vials were deceptively heavy but he was losing the feeling in his injured hand and it would not have made anything any easier; probably only make it harder.

With the rack out of the way, Harry tipped his body down so he could peer into the space underneath the first shelf. There, at the very back, pressed up against the wall, was the glinting, flickering blue light he had been looking for. He adjusted his position quickly so that he could reach out with his good hand and not have to support himself with his bad hand and then stretched as far as he could to try and grab the object that he needed.

"How's it going?" George's voice reached him suddenly.

"Almost there." Harry replied, his finger-tips brushing against smooth, cool glass. That small success spurred him on and he continued to reach as far as possible.

Eventually, he was in the ideal position to jerk the jar forward, tipping it onto its side and then rolling it out to him. It gently bumped into his thigh, rebounded a little bit before coming to a complete stop. Inside, a strange blue flame which was in the jar continued to flicker a little but remained burning full and brightly. Harry wasted no time in grabbing the jar and shoving everything he had disturbed back into its proper place. He then scrambling back onto his feet, stuffing the jar into his robes as he did so, and hurried out of the room, shutting and the door behind him. He nodded to the two Weasley twins as he passed them and, after Fred waved his wand to the door to lock it again, they wordlessly followed on behind him as their friend headed back in the direction they had come from.

The three boys half walked and half jogged out of the dungeons, all the way back to Gryffindor Tower in silence. It was Fred who spoke the password to the Fat Lady and allowed Harry and George to go in first. They dashed through the common room without pausing and, luckily, no one seemed to take any notice of the fact that the twins looked rather flustered while Harry looked as if he was about to pass out at any moment.

When they reached the stairs, Fred pulled ahead to lead, Harry followed on behind him and George followed on behind them both. They passed one of their dorm mates on the way but all three ignored him. They reached the door to their room first, Fred opening it for Harry and his brother. When George entered, he took the door from his brother and turned back to face outside, just in time to see their dorm mate approach, obviously intending to enter the room as well.

"Sorry, we need the room." George said hastily as he abruptly shut the door right in their dorm mate's face. He pulled his wand out and locked the door with several charms as Harry and Fred quickly settled on the floor in the middle of the room.

Fred unscrewed the lid of the jar for Harry, as the dark haired boy's injured hand was now completely useless, before setting it down on the floor. Harry quickly turned the lid of the jar upside-down with his good hand before taking up the jar, also in his good hand, and ever so carefully tipping it until the flickering blue flame tumbled out onto the lid where it settled and continued to burn on happily.

"Why don't you just use your staff to heal yourself?" Fred asked as his friend began to role up the sleeve of his robe on the arm which had the injured hand attached. "Didn't you once mention something about being able to cure any poison with it?"

"I can only help other people; a priest or priestess isn't able to perform any sort of magic on themselves, it just doesn't work. It's to help with the Vow of Self-Sacrifice." Harry told them as he carefully held his wounded hand over the blue flame, lifting it up and down minutely until it was in the perfect position.

"What's that?" George asked curiously.

"One of the vows that Havanist Priests and Priestesses have to take and live by. If ever the time came where there was a choice between saving yourself and saving the life of another, a true priest or priestess would save the other. We're only mortal however and we all suffer from a slight fear of death, especially when it's staring us right in the face. So, we're not able to cast our magic on ourselves to make that scenario I just described easier if it were to ever happen."

"That's awful though! To ask you to give up your own life just like that. To not even give you a real choice!" Fred cried, aghast at the idea, his expression mirrored by his twin.

Harry smiled slightly upon hearing that; a soft, sort of understanding smile that suggested his understood perfectly how his friend could think that but he did not agree with the view in the least. "There are many forms of love; but surely the greatest is that of someone who gives their life so that another may live on." Bright green eyes glanced up at the two red-heads. "Said to be the words of the Elder Morcedai himself when he was still on Earth as the first Havanist Priest. I would gladly give my life if it meant that another could survive, and that is my choice."

An awkward silence passed over them then as neither of the Weasley boys knew what to say to that and Harry returned to carefully watching his wound, seeing that the ink-blue, creamy poison was starting to gather to the surface. After a while, the silence was comically broken by George when his stomach rumbled rather loudly. The two other boys in the room looked up at him before they all started to laugh.

"That's one way to break the tension." Fred chuckled, plonking himself down on the floor next to Harry. He leaned down and looked curiously at the blue fire which was burning in the middle of the plate quite happily. "So what exactly is that?"

"It's a magical type of flame captured from the fire-breathing Salamando bats of the forests of South-West Wales." Harry answered as he watched a drop of poison fall from the wound and onto the plate. "George, could you grab me a tissue or something?"

"Fire-breathing Salamando bats?" Fred echoed in disbelief as his brother rolled off where he was sitting on his bed and headed over to them to offer Harry his own handkerchief.

"You're making that up." George accused as he sat down next to his brother and in front of Harry on the floor so he could see what was going on.

"No I'm not, my father told me all about them. There's only fifty left and they're all in South-West Wales. They've been driven to the brink of extinction because their tongues are handy for making potions."

"Shouldn't think a bat's tongue would do much; has to be about the size of half a peanut." Fred mused.

"Well, apparently they were useful, though no one living would know that for sure; they're been off-limits since the mid-eighteenth century. Their breath, however, is legal as long as no harm comes to the bat when it's being collected. The care and delicacy the process required to capture the flame means that it's beyond expensive though and very rare."

"Isn't your dad gonna mind that you nicked a jar then?" George asked.

"He'd have only used one on me anyway. It's just that this way he doesn't have to worry about me." Harry rationalised, wiping away some more of the poison and cringing a little at the sight of the handkerchief being ruined. "I don't think you'll be able to get this clean again, George."

"Doesn't matter; I've got loads of 'em, ain't gonna miss one." The boy assured, waving off the apology. "So how are they used for potion-making?"

"They're sometimes used instead or regular fire, if a potion specifically advises you use it or, if you're an expert like my father, you can risk trying it out on other potions to get the to developed faster than normal. Like I said, it's really expensive though so father usually only uses it if he has to." Harry answered as he brought his hand up to his face to inspect it. The cloth in his hand was totally soaked in the disgusting blue poison and it appeared that there was still some more to come out.

"Do you want another hankie?" George offered, already getting up to fetch one.

"How much of that stuff is there still to come out?" Fred asked with a wrinkle of his nose and he peered down at the two puncture wounds as Harry held his hand back over the flame.

"Not sure. I hope it doesn't take too much longer to get it all out though; this fire won't last much more than an hour now it's been exposed to so much carbon dioxide."

"Harry? Don't you think it would just be easier to tell someone and have an adult deal with it?" Fred suggested carefully.

"Yeah, I agree with Fred." George said as he came back with a second handkerchief and handed it to Harry. "We know you don't want to worry your dad or anything..."

"...But don't you think he should know about this?"

"Even if you were right which, for the record, I don't think you are, it's too late to tell him now. We'd all get our heads chewed off for stealing from his store-room." Harry pointed out before looking up at his two friends. "I'm sorry I had to worry you guys too, if I could've helped it I would've tried to deal with it all myself."

Fred and George sighed in unison and each dragged their fingers through their hair. "There's no need to apologise for that, mate." George reassured, sounding a little tired.

"We hardly gave you a choice in accepting it after all." Fred said with a light grin.

"And we didn't mean to nag about telling your dad..."

"...We just thought it might be for the best."

Harry gave them both a small smile. "I'm glad you're both here to help me; it means a lot. But really, I think it's for the best that my father doesn't know about this little incident."

"If that's what you think is the right thing..." George began.

"...You know your dad better than us after all." Fred finished.

"Thanks guys." The dark haired boy said with a brighter smile before looking back down at his hand. "And look, there's not much point in telling him now, the poison's barely coming out anymore. Merlin, who would've thought such little snake could contain this much poison?"

"Harry?" Fred asked carefully, causing him to look back up. "How exactly did you manage to get bitten?"

...Damn, he should have seen that question popping up at some point. How was he supposed to answer that without telling them about his conversations with the snakes? He could not tell them he was a Parselmouth if only for the fact it had been so long since he knew himself. They would want to know why he had not told them sooner, they would want to know why he had not trusted them to not freak out and to keep the secret. They would be offended, they would hate him; he could not tell them.

"I was on my way to Hagrid's to find out whether he was able to find the plants my father needs for a certain potion in the Forbidden Forest, like I agreed I would earlier after our Potions lesson. I tripped over my shoe-lace by the edge of the forest. The snake must've been resting in the high grass I landed in because after I'd fallen the next thing I knew I could feel the sting of it biting me." Harry explained, totally making up the entire thing as he was going along. At least it was a plausible explanation; Harry relaying messages for his father was not an unheard of occurrence.

"What were you doing that close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest?" George asked, sounding more concerned than accusing or suspicious.

For a few, horrible seconds, Harry could think of now reason for being that close to the edge of the forest. However, when the gentle pattering of rain on the windows in the dorm room occurred to him, he found his explanation. "It was raining, I was trying to stay under the cover of the trees as much as possible without having to actually go into the forest."

The two red haired boys gave him an odd look.

"Hey, it seemed like a good idea!"

"Such a good idea that got you bitten by a stupidly poisonous snake." Fred pointed out.

"I didn't know that was going to happen at the time, did I?" Harry muttered as he swiped away the two small drops of poison which had risen to the surface of his wound.

"That's true." George agreed with a nod.

"It was still a really stupid idea." Fred insisted.

"That's true." George agreed again with a nod.

Fred gave his brother a slightly annoyed, slightly amused, look. "Is it really necessary for you to keep saying that?"

The other ginger haired boy shrugged lightly. "Just adding my two Sickles."

"Yeah, well, don't."

"Why not?"

"Because neither of us care about your two Sickles."

"Hey, that's not nice!"

The two brothers continued that train of bickering for quite some time after that and Harry simply amused himself with watching them and cleaning the last bit of poison out of his bite. After all, if the twins were arguing with each other, they were not asking him awkward questions.
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Family Means More Than Blood