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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: Happy birthday to Cathleen, one of the Facebookers, who asked for a chapter today. I hope you enjoy this one, lovelie.

Last Time

He was exhausted and he wanted, needed, some decent sleep. A good ten or eleven hours would do him, he just hoped that his night sweats didn’t wake him up in the middle of the night again, he really needed to just sleep and not wake up. He was absolutely exhausted, completely drained and he just didn’t know how to make himself feel any better. He needed to take his potions, but they were making him feel so sick…much sicker than he’d ever felt before when he hadn’t been taking them, he needed a break, that’s all. A nice, long break away from the sweating, the headaches and the drowsiness, the thick-headed woolliness, the weakness, the aches and pains throughout his whole body. He just wanted to be normal again, like he’d been back before he’d ever been diagnosed with hypocalcaemia.

Chapter Sixteen – Memory Lane

Every single day was dragging by so slowly and so painfully that it was a miracle that he even managed to get through all of his lessons. When the weekend actually, finally came, Harry was more than ready for some much needed peace and rest and he had told Draco that he was not going to socialise at all over the weekend. Instead he was going to stay in his rooms and just not do anything. He had even passed the scheduled Quidditch training for that weekend over to Katie Bell, as his deputy, explaining that he just wasn’t up to it this week and as soon as he’d finished a small dinner on Friday evening, he’d come straight to the fourth floor and he’d shut himself up in his rooms. He was not planning on coming back out until he had to on Monday morning.
What he hadn’t counted on was Draco getting overly worried about his behaviour and not just writing to Lucius, but floo calling him from Snape’s office. It was early afternoon on Saturday when there was a cursory knock on his door before it opened. Harry was just glad that he was lounging in his boxer-briefs on the floor today and that he wasn’t completely naked again as he’d been doing before, as Lucius stepped in, discarding his cane as soon as he had closed the door.

“Draco said that you were unwell. Your letter arrived yesterday morning, I had assumed that you would be better by now, how are you?” He asked immediately, coming to sit by him, on the settee, of course, Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t ever sit on the floor.

“I’ve felt better.” Harry said with a weak smile. “Sorry for my state of undress.” He added. “I can’t stop sweating and this is just easier than changing clothes every half an hour.”

“Don’t apologise for sickness.” Lucius chastised him, touching his face and grimacing as his hand came away wet.

“Should I apologise for that?” He asked cheekily.

“No. Now is this from your potions or the cold that you mentioned?”

“I don’t think…well, perhaps I didn’t actually have a cold, I think it’s the flu. The Pepper-Up potion knocked the edge off, but it’s still there.”

Lucius sighed. “I’ve brought more Pepper-Up, just in case. Here, take one now. You need six consecutive doses to cure the flu.”

Harry swallowed the potion handed to him and he put his head back on the settee, even as steam came out of his ears.

“As per usual you underestimated what you were going through and you have caused yourself more pain and suffering as a result. You said a simple cold, when you had the flu.” Lucius told him. “This needs to stop, Harry.”

Harry bit his lip and ducked his head.

“How’s Rabastan?” He asked softly.

“Do not change the subject. He’s fine, though now he’s overly worried about you as well, because of your track record of underestimating everything about yourself. He knew that if you said that you had a cold, you probably had the flu. I agreed with him and brought the Pepper-Up potions that you would need and low and behold, you do have the flu, as suspected.”

Harry scowled. “I don’t like people fussing around me.”

Lucius sighed. “Clearly.” He said. “You need to take these potions every several hours. The next one will be at nine in the night, the one after as soon as you wake up, then lunch time, evening and night again. Do you understand?”

Harry snorted. “Yeah, one with the nutrient potion tonight. Take another one with the bone strengthening potion tomorrow morning and then another one with the calcium potion at lunch, one before I eat dinner and then the last one with the nutrient potion. It really does come to something when I can schedule taking potions by pairing them with the taking of other potions, that’s all I seem to be doing lately, swallowing potions one after another.”

“Yes, Draco did say that you were off your food too.”

Harry lifted an arm to cover his eyes. “He has such a big mouth.”

“It’s a good thing that he mentioned it.” Lucius told him sternly. “I would expect you to come to me with any worries that you have concerning Draco too. Now, have you eaten today?”

Knowing that he couldn’t escape, he shook his head. “I had dinner last night, but I’ve had just tea and my potions since.”

Lucius nodded. “So you’ve missed breakfast and lunch and you’ve been eating minimally since last week?”

Harry nodded.

“Alright. I want you to call that house elf of yours and get some soup from him, then I want you in bed.”

“I have too much homework to do.” He insisted.

Lucius looked at him and then shook his head. “Harry, I might have given you the wrong impression, but your health is much, much more important than what marks you get. Leave your homework and if you can’t get it done, then you tell me and I will make your excuses. You are trying to do too much and it needs to stop. You are seriously ill and now that you have the flu on top you are not in a good way.”

“I can do it, I know I can.” He insisted.

“I know that you can, but at what cost, Harry?” Lucius asked him seriously. “Have you been keeping up your fluid intake?”

Harry nodded. “Lots of tea and a glass of juice to swallow each of the potions down.”

“That is something at least.” Lucius sighed.

“I just…I suppose I don’t want to admit that what I have is going to take over my life.” Harry said softly. “I don’t want to think about it, I don’t want to take things easy. I feel more sick now than I ever did before I even knew about this condition! The potions are making it worse!”

“No, the potions are healing you.” Lucius told him, laying a gentle hand on his damp head. “You have had this condition for years, Harry and it was only getting worse and more destructive to your body. The potions are healing the damage and healing the cause of the damage and that is clearly making you pay more attention to those areas affected most. Do you feel any pain?”

Harry considered the question carefully. “Not really. The headaches are incredibly bad and I get odd aches now and then, but it’s not really pain.”

“Your body is healing slowly, but take heed, Harry, it is healing.”

Harry nodded. “I keep thinking of Rabastan and our future children…children that I might not be able to have if I don’t do this here and now and that’s not fair to either of us when we both want children so badly. I just don’t want to give up on my education. I don’t want to stop and focus on my health. I want to graduate and marry Rabastan. I don’t want to hold off on our marriage if I have to repeat a year!”

“Is this what is bothering you so much and is pushing you past what you can comfortably handle?” Lucius asked him in slight shock.

Harry nodded miserably.

Lucius sighed and he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him in to rest against his legs, petting his hair and stroking it gently.

“You will be married in the summer of nineteen-ninety-eight.” Lucius told him. “The Lestranges wanted you married immediately. I managed to talk Xerxes into waiting much longer than he was prepared to, just so that you had time to finish your education first, but it was decided that nineteen-ninety-eight would be the year that you were married, regardless of anything else.”

“So…even if I do have to repeat a year, I’ll still be married?” Harry asked, brightening up considerably, looking at Lucius’ grey eyes desperately, his own green eyes wide and pleading.

“Yes, Harry. With a bit of luck Rabastan will be more like his former self upon the time of your marriage, so that he can do most of the childcare, but Narcissa and I are always on hand to help, as Draco will be. If you have to repeat a year because of these unforeseen circumstances, it will not be as much of a problem when compared to this year, when you are not at full health, when Rabastan is still a shade of himself, when Draco is in school with you. I am to be a grandparent, not a primary carer, Harry. It is not fair for you to ask that I raise your child. I am more than willing to help you and Rabastan out where needed, but I will not take on your child as my own.”

Harry nodded his understanding. That made a lot more sense and he understood a lot more now why his wedding had been held back until he was out of school. He sighed and pushed his homework away from himself.

“I’ve done more than half of my set homework, but I’m not going to finish the rest.” He said. “I’m going to go to bed and rest.”

Lucius actually smiled at him and petted his head. “Your potions are by here, do not forget to take them. You should actually be better by this Monday now and then you can pick up your lessons again, but Harry, do not push yourself too hard.” Lucius said sternly. “You have a very serious, life threatening condition that is not going to go away by ignoring it or pushing yourself too hard. Take it a little easier and find a balance between the both, but lean it more towards your health than your school work.”

Harry nodded and he sighed, swiping his arm over his forehead in what was becoming a habit now and he took a deep breath.

“Of all the times to come down with the flu.” He bemoaned.

Lucius patted him again. “Think nothing of it. You will get better now and by this summer, you should be back to full health, exactly as you should be.”

“So, how is Rabastan, really?”

Lucius smirked at him. “It always comes back to him, doesn’t it?”

“He’s never far from my mind.” Harry grinned, lifting his ring to his lips and giving it a kiss.

“He is doing rather well. It seems that his short amount time looking after you has given him much more confidence and in recent weeks he has improved greatly. He cannot wait for you to come home for Easter so that he can show you his progress. He wishes to spoil you too, he is gathering the finest chocolate eggs to gift you with upon your return. Rodolphus has taken to calling him a mother hen, because of how he constantly hovers over the eggs, wondering endlessly if you’ll like them or not.”

Harry laughed, loudly and uninhibitedly, at the mental images that those words conjured up.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that. He did the same when he proposed, hovering and worrying until I had given him my answer. It does not bode well for when I fall pregnant.” He chuckled.

“He is protective and willing to show it. I approve.”

Harry grinned. “Tell him that I miss him and that I can’t wait to see him next month. I just want February to be over with now. Oh and give him a push towards dark chocolate and orange, it’s my new favourite combination.”

Lucius laughed at him and patted his shoulder. “Go and get yourself into bed. Take a jug of juice with you and some books and don’t move unless you absolutely have to. You don’t have to be asleep to rest yourself. I will see Draco now and tell him to leave you be, but to come and check on you every evening.”

“Early evening please, I’ve taken to going to bed really early lately. I’m at my best in late afternoon, early evening.”

Lucius nodded. “Go now, to bed with you.”

Harry nodded and he stood up, he went to his kitchenette and got the full jug of pumpkin juice from his cold storage and a clean glass, he put them in his bedroom before coming back out and picking up one of the Pepper-Up potions and his nutrient potion. He took those through to his room as well and placed them on his bedside.
He went back out one last time to say goodbye to Lucius, who was just picking up his cane, and Harry saw him out politely and then he sighed wearily as he was left to himself. He truly hoped that this course of potions finally worked and knocked the flu on the head by Monday. He was just so fed up of feeling sick now, he was more than ready to start feeling better and healthier and as a result, much happier too.

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

Lucius arrived back to his Manor home later that evening, after spending some time with Draco as well as checking in on Harry, and he sighed happily as soon as he was embraced warmly by his wife.

“Were Draco’s concern’s valid?” She asked him as a greeting, as he knew that she would do. She was always very protective of those she considered as ‘hers’ and that naturally now included Harry. Harry who was very sick and needed more support than originally thought if he had tried to brush off such a serious illnesses and had downplayed the flu as a mere cold.

Lucius noticed Rabastan sit forward more, and he made sure to project his voice for all to hear as he would in a Wizengamot meeting.

“They were valid, as was feared, and once again, as he has proven time and time again, Harry has downplayed how unwell he truly was. You were correct in this observation, Rabastan. He has been struggling through the last week with the flu.”

Rabastan growled and rubbed his head. “I knew he should have stayed here with me for longer! He wasn’t ready to go back to school.”

“He said something rather interesting too. He told me that he was exhausting himself, despite being so sick, because he was terrified of having to repeat a year, because he thought that it would mean waiting an extra year to marry you.”

Rabastan’s blue eyes widened. “He said that?”

“He did, almost word for word. I put him straight of course. I made him see that his health was much more important, but it would likely mean more to him coming from you as well, to put weight behind the notion.”

Rabastan nodded his agreement. “I shall include such reassurances in my current letter to him.”

“How he gets so sick but still manages to suck on chocolate is beyond me.” Lucius sighed, shaking his head, playing a little on Harry’s behalf. “He’s gotten a fondness for the sophistication of dark chocolate it seems, a thing I welcome, but he ruins it by buying the chocolate with orange pieces in it.” He shook his head again. “I will never understand that boy.”

Lucius noticed Rabastan’s look and he knew then that Harry was going to have yet another egg added to the nest of them. This would make the sixth and not one of them could be called small. Harry was going to be eating chocolate for the next few months at least, not that Lucius believed that Harry would complain about it, just the opposite in fact.

“Does he look alright, though?” Narcissa asked.

“He looked as I expected him to look when Draco brought his concerns to me.” Lucius insisted. “Rather tired and worn down, a bit paler than usual and he was damp to the touch, but he was coherent and determined. He’s going to be just fine. We can appraise him more fully when he comes home for two weeks in March. He’s looking forward to that, it doesn’t need three guesses to know why.” He said with a smirk at Rabastan, who smiled happily at hearing that.

“Greyback visited while you were away.” Xerxes cut in, now that they knew that Harry was going to be alright given some more time and needed potions.

“Of course he did.” Lucius sighed. “I expect him for two days and then the moment I slip out for a few hours to check upon my sons, that is when he chooses to visit. Did he take the list?”

“I made sure to give it to him.” Xerxes nodded.

“You made sure that he knew the one name was just to frighten and not to maim?” Lucius asked.

“I did, of course. I will follow our Lord’s orders to the letter, Lucius. You know I would.”

Lucius nodded. “Good. I will inform our Lord that the list has been passed over to Greyback and await further instructions.”

“Did you ever find out why he came to our New Year’s Ball, Lucius?” Narcissa asked him. She had not been best pleased that he had turned up at all, though she was at least mollified that he had come in decent robes and had actually washed himself for once.

“He was curious of Harry.” Lucius sighed. “He has heard much about him and with our Lord making sure that all of us understood that he is not to be touched or harmed in any way, he wanted to see Harry for himself.”

“I don’t think he made a good impression.” Rodolphus laughed.

“He frightened Harry needlessly. I won’t have it.” Rabastan replied tightly, one hand clenching into a fist that made his knuckles crack as he thought back to how unsettled Harry had been and how he had pressed closer to him for protection. He had loved that Harry had done as such, that he had still seen him as someone who could protect him despite his obvious physical weaknesses, and the very important fact that Harry could protect himself and had proven as such over and over, culminating in the way that he had handled Rowle in the bathroom of this very Manor.

“Harry has a soft head and a softer heart, he’ll learn.” Rodolphus insisted.

“I don’t want him to!” Rabastan growled. “I want him to stay as he is!”

Rodolphus scoffed. “Our Lord has no use for him as he is.”

Rabastan’s blue eyes flashed dangerously. “Harry wants to remain neutral, Rodolphus.” He said slowly and clearly. “Our Lord has accepted this, as long as Harry doesn’t oppose him or get in the way of his plans, he is content to let Harry be neutral. Are you going to go against our Lord? Do you think that you know better than he does?”

“Of course not!” Rodolphus snapped back immediately, furiously.

“That is what you are alluding to!” Rabastan said furiously. “Harry is to remain neutral, as per our Lord’s wishes! Leave him well alone about such things, Rodolphus.”

“That is enough.” Xerxes cut in sternly.

“I just meant that it would be better if he were to fight with us!” Rodolphus explained.

“It took us a while to convince him that he wasn’t going to be handed over or killed outright.” Lucius said mildly. “He was very nervous and suspicious when he first came to live with us, but he has consented to being neutral so easily because, at the heart of himself, he truly does not want to fight. He has never wanted to fight and he does not see this war as his own.”

“His parents fought! They died in this war, how can he say that it is not his own?” Rodolphus asked.

“He does not hold his parents’ decisions as his own.” Rabastan said proudly. “He said that they had every right to choose to fight in a war, but he has an equal right to choose not to fight in it if that’s what he feels is best, despite them choosing to fight themselves. He says that just because they died does not mean that he has to automatically fight for their cause or take their decision to his heart as his own and he’s absolutely right, he doesn’t have to do anything that he doesn’t want to, he is a free man, allowed to make such choices for himself.”

“He is surprisingly mature for his young years, but the more I hear about the Muggle beasts that he was housed with, the less surprised I find myself when he shows such maturity.” Xerxes sighed. “Most abused children grow old before they are meant to and I am sure that this is what has happened with Harry.”

“It is impossible to rectify.” Lucius said sadly. “We cannot remove years of abuse and pain, but we can show him some decency and allow him to make his own decisions and have his own say in such things. He is not a young, clueless boy, he is rather switched on for his age. I have taken to treating him like an adult when needed, not least because he needs to present as such to the Wizengamot, but because he has earnt that level of respect and consideration with his own actions.”

“A truly wonderful job that you’ve done too, Lucius.” Xerxes insisted.

“I cannot take all the credit for that, Xerxes. He came to me thoughtful, curious and full of questions. I merely guided him and educated him in the things that he needed to know. All of his cutting, scathing remarks are all his own.”

Xerxes chuckled then. “And some of them are truly golden. I love some of the things that he comes out with off the top of his head.”

“He is certainly coming into his own.” Lucius smiled. “I am very proud of him.”

“As you should be, he is very well rounded and intelligent in his own right. He’s going to make a most wonderful addition to the family and it pleases me that he was worried that his illness would mean an extra year before his marriage, but make sure that he understands that his health truly is the most important thing here. He can’t marry anyone if he has died.”

“Don’t say such things, Grandfather.” Rabastan growled immediately, furiously. “He’s not going to die! He’s going to be just fine!”

“He is yes.” Lucius agreed. “But for a Healer appointment that Harry never wanted to go to in the first place, things might have been devastatingly different. If he hadn’t gone to that check-up, then he would have most assuredly died, either from the complications of the hypocalcaemia or from trying to have his first child.”

Rabastan did not like hearing that. His face fell into a sneer and he swallowed hard, before standing and excusing himself. He left the Malfoy’s Manor to go to his Grandfather’s to finish his letter to Harry, avoiding his poisonous Father when he heard the man speaking in one of the front rooms.
He wanted to remind his Fiancé that they both needed to take potions to get better, he wanted Harry to know that he wasn’t alone in his struggle to take several potions daily. He wanted Harry to know that he was supported, that he knew exactly what Harry was going through and that he was not ever alone in this, that he was so proud of how far he had come and that he had to keep it up to get better, as he did himself.
He loved Harry so much and it had only been a relatively short amount of time. It had been six months since the betrothal contract had been signed and accepted on both sides. Six months since they had first met one another and he had believed himself looking upon the most beautiful boy that he’d ever seen before as he sat next to Harry…Harry who had come to calm him when he’d been panicking and looking for Rodolphus to tell him what to do, Harry who had placed his soft, gentle hands in his own and had pulled him with him like a guiding light in the vast sea of darkness, showing him what to do without judgement or scorn.
He still remembered the feel of those soft, silky hands on his own rough, calloused hands with his peeling, dry skin and his brittle, discoloured nails. He’d been disgusted with himself ever since he’d seen what he’d become when he’d first looked into a mirror after his liberation. He’d been embarrassed and humiliated to meet his only suitor since his escape looking and behaving how he did, but he remembered clearly the understanding smile and the bright eyes that looked at him unflinchingly. He remembered the quiet voice speaking to him, defending him, as if he was a person, as if he was actually worth something. Harry had been the most beautiful person to him in that moment and he’d been drawn to him so strongly because of his gentleness and kindness, because of his smile and his beautiful eyes. The more he got to know about Harry, the more he wanted to protect him and shelter him. He loved him and the happiest day of his life had been when Harry had told him ‘yes’ and he had gotten to slide the ring that he had fashioned himself onto Harry’s tiny, slim finger. It would be topped, he was sure, when he and Harry were finally married and then again when Harry laid their perfect, firstborn child in his arms. He couldn’t wait for those days to come.

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

Harry was absolutely fine by that next Monday and the next week was a lot easier for him to trundle through. He still had to take his potions for the hypocalcaemia and the malnutrition, but he no longer had the flu and he wasn’t aching or sweating as much or suffering any longer now that the course of Pepper-Up potions had done their job and knocked the flu on the head.
He had cut down drastically on his homework too, he had on average fifty percent less work to do than his year mates. Where they would get two pieces of homework, he only had one, when they had three pieces, he had one piece and an additional piece that was usually something very easy. Far from being upset or angry, his Professors were actually relieved that he had asked for a lighter workload. They had been so worried as he walked around looking like he was already half dead, they knew that he’d been taken out of school for a week because he’d been so very ill, too ill for Madam Pomfrey to deal with even, and when he’d come back he was downing potions left and right, looking like he hadn’t slept in a month and only getting worse as he forced himself to do all his classwork and then all of his homework too. They were happy for him to do less homework, as long as his classwork was still up to standard and it was, and he could show that he understood what was being taught to him and he could. They were glad that he was looking better and they actually held him back at the end of his lessons to tell him so too.
Today was a Saturday, a very special Saturday as he had donned a Slytherin hat and scarf and he was sat in the bleachers, right at the front so that Draco could see him, as he watched Slytherin versus Ravenclaw.
It was already a dirty game only twenty minutes in, with snow thick on the ground, and Slytherin up to their usual tricks. Draco had almost begged him to stay in the castle, worried that his recent bout of flu would make an unwelcomed reappearance. Harry had refused, insisting that he wouldn’t miss watching him play over the fears of maybe catching the flu again. He’d told Draco sternly that he would not live his life in fear of airborne viruses.
He had, however, made sure that he’d wrapped up really warm for his excursion outside, just in case, so he had on a thick jumper, his thickest winter robes that had a warming charm on them and his black, sheepskin gloves. He had the Slytherin scarf wrapped tight about his throat and the hat jammed on his head, low over his ears.
Slytherin were steamrollering Ravenclaw, naturally, and Harry cheered happily as Slytherin scored yet again. Now if only Draco would catch the snitch then he could get back into the warm and out of the sharp, biting wind.
He cheered again as Slytherin scored another ten points, then one of the Ravenclaw Beaters smashed a Bludger into one of the Slytherin Chasers and the green and sliver player fell down into the snow. Harry was just glad that it wasn’t Draco. Or Blaise he supposed, who was a Chaser himself.
Urquhart got nasty then, or rather he got nastier than he’d been before, and he blatantly fouled the Beater who’d taken out one of his Chasers. Madam Hooch blew her whistle shrilly and awarded Ravenclaw an obvious penalty and Ravenclaw managed to claw back ten, much needed, points.
The game lasted for another fifty minutes, the sky getting greyer as more snow clouds rolled in as the biting wind picked up and it got much colder, and when Draco finally caught the snitch Harry was about ready to head back to bed. All the jumping around and cheering he’d done to support Draco in his match had tired him out and all he wanted now was a nice, rich hot chocolate and a blazing fire to park his arse in front of with a book and a blanket.
He got no such thing as he was pulled along by Theo to the Slytherin common room to join in on their after party.

“You look good in green and silver, hold on, I want a picture to prove that you wore this.” Theo insisted and Harry laughed but happily posed with Theo, smiling widely as Theo took the picture with his wand.

“Harry!”

He turned with a grin towards Astoria, her own blonde hair tucked under a green and silver hat, her cheeks and the tip of her nose red from the cold and she giggled lightly in that tinkling way of hers.

“I can’t believe that you wore a Slytherin hat and scarf to the match, what will the Gryffindors think?”

“Who cares?” Harry answered with his own laugh. “They already hate my guts, what difference will this make?”

Draco was there then, still in his Quidditch robes, but now washed off and warm again, and he forced his way through the cheering Slytherins to him and Harry grinned at him before he was pulled into a rough hug. Draco cupped his cheek and chin and forced eye contact.

“Are you okay?” He asked lowly.

Harry nodded. “I feel completely fine. I’m a bit cold, but I’ll warm up soon.” He insisted and Draco stared at him hard for a few more moments, trying to detect any hint of deception or lies, before he nodded and grinned himself.

Blaise found his way over to them, also still in his Quidditch robes, and he clapped Draco on the back. “I thought you’d never catch that snitch!” He chuckled. “My arse was frozen to the broomstick!”

“I was beginning to fear the same.” Draco chuckled.

“Harry, green and silver look good on you. You should wear them more often.” Blaise told him.

“Theo said the same.” Harry laughed. “I’m sure it’s because my eyes are green, it picks out the colour more clearly, am I right, Astoria?” He asked, drawing her into the conversation, she had been fluttering off to the side, unsure if she should stay or leave the ‘guys’ to their celebration.

As soon as her name was mentioned, Draco turned happily to search for her and he pulled her into a hug, placing a gentle kiss to her smooth forehead and Harry’s eyes widened to see it. Perhaps Draco was actually falling in love with Astoria without forcing anything. Maybe all they’d needed was a push towards one another, just to get the ball rolling so that they could each see the potential in the other.

“You’re right.” She said, even as she beamed up at Draco. “If you wore anything green then it would immediately pick out the colour of your eyes. You’d need a nice, darker green though, maybe a shade or two darker or lighter than your eyes if you want them to really stand out. Anything lighter than a few shades would clash though and would draw attention away from them.”

The Slytherin party was rather muted and refined. Not least because none of them knew where the kitchens were and they had no party food. Harry almost felt sorry for them.
It didn’t last long before they all started winding down, Harry had been included in so many photos, for proof that he was wearing Slytherin colours, everyone insisted as he grinned and posed happily as his picture was taken again and again. The one that he made sure that he got a copy of was of him, Draco, Blaise, Theo and Astoria. He wanted to send it to Lucius and Narcissa. He knew that Draco wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing, but Harry would.

“My hair is a mess!” Draco complained when Harry got his copy and waved it at him.

“You look fine you bloody poser!” Harry giggled as he stared at the photo. He was still wearing the hat and scarf in the photo, but he had finally warmed up now and they were tucked into the pockets of his robes. The pink flush to his cheeks was now from warmth, not from the biting cold or the blustery wind.

He said his goodbyes several minutes later and immediately Draco went into protective older brother mode.

“I don’t want you going up to the fourth floor alone.” He insisted.

“I’m fine, Draco. I’m not going to be suddenly overwhelmed with the flu virus and collapse between here and the fourth floor.” Harry replied.

“What if you run into anyone?”

“Need I remind you that I’m the best in our year at Defence?” He said dryly. “I can look after myself and I’ll be just fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, enjoy the rest of your victory party.”

Harry took his leave and, as he’d said to Draco, he reached his rooms perfectly fine and he didn’t see anyone who tried to stop him.
He took the small bunch of photos from his robe pocket and he looked at the photos in his hands and he grinned, copying two of them, the one of all of them together and one of just him and Draco, taken late into the party almost as he’d been leaving, after he’d removed the hat and scarf. His hair was extra messy because of the hat, but both he and Draco were smiling, their arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning happily. Even as he watched, the photo of himself waved and turned to smile at photo Draco.
Harry chuckled and slipped them both into the envelope with his weekly update to Lucius, who had asked him to keep in touch because of his potions and what Lucius called his ‘delicate health’. He would send it now tomorrow, once he’d finished his letter to Rabastan, which he was still writing. He was going to add the Quidditch match he’d watched today and the after party too. He included a copy of a single photo that Astoria had shyly handed to him, she’d taken it at the actual match and photo Harry was on his feet, cheering and yelling, grinning a smile bigger than Harry had thought possible. His cheeks were red from the cold, the tail of his scarf was being buffered by the wind and he had a hand up, holding his hat to his head, even as he jumped and cheered.
He laughed at himself and shook his head, putting the photo to the side. He hoped that it would help to reassure Rabastan that he was alright and that he wasn’t actually at death’s door, even after his recent bout of flu, as he pulled a nice, rich, dark blue ink towards himself along with his quill and the half-finished letter and he started a new paragraph.

‘Today was a good day.’ He started. ‘The Quidditch match was fun, but cold! Slytherin won, of course. They steamrollered Ravenclaw 380 to 120, so Draco is in a very good mood for once. I was dragged to the after party, if that could even be called a party, I had more fun at Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party when I was twelve! They don’t even know where the kitchens are to get food! Who doesn’t know where the kitchens are or how to get into them?! I’ve enclosed a photo that Astoria took at the match, I hope you like it…’

He got lost in his letter, pouring out his thoughts and feelings into his letter, jotting down his random musings, acting like he was sat talking to Rabastan more than writing him a letter and he had fun switching up the colours, going from blue to yellow, from yellow to red, from red to green, from green to silver, (it amused him to put in the Slytherin colours one after the other, especially after the Quidditch match that day), from silver to black and then to pale purple and finishing on orange. His letters flowed more like a rainbow these days, since he’d started a collection of such brightly coloured inks of vastly differing shades, but he didn’t care and he actually thought they were rather creative in a way. He’d started writing them for Rabastan, to help him to read his letters without worry or panic, but it had come to mean something to him too, it made him feel better to know that he was helping Rabastan’s recovery in whatever small way that he could. Rabastan had actually told him in his last letter that Harry’s way of writing and formatting his letters was helping him to focus his mind more and he could now read further with plain text because he was more used to reading and he could get his brain to stay focused on the words for longer. All because Harry had had the thought to set out his letters like a rainbow. Rabastan had told him that he was more thankful for that than Harry could ever know, but Harry had an idea of how much it meant to Rabastan just from reading his words.
He finished off his letter and signed it as Lucius had taught him to do, with a clear, cursive form of his name. On official documents it would be H. Potter-Black, but for a personal letter to his Fiancé, he signed it as just Harry.
He had more fun than he was probably meant to stamping his seal onto the back of the envelopes to close them, but life was full of such small pleasures and nibbles of happiness that made him smile and if using a brass stamp to put his official seal into wax was one of them, well, it was no one else’s business.
Harry got a small bowl of soup from his cold storage, that he’d asked Dobby to bring him the other day when Lucius had visited, but of course the little elf had over done it and now Harry was living off of the soup so that he didn’t have to go down to dinner, of which he’d missed because he was too busy writing his letters.
It was late now too, so he got a cup of tea for himself, ate his soup with some bread, took his nutrient potion and then got himself right into bed. He’d again dressed in loose fitting clothes so that he could help himself to sleep a little better, and for longer, by preparing for his night sweats. He would take a nice long bath in the morning before he sent his letters off and went to breakfast. Marcus would be here tomorrow to tutor him and Harry couldn’t wait to show him the little note that Professor Babbling had put on his latest essay about how much he had improved and how impressed she was with his phenomenal progress. Harry had no doubts who was truly to thank for such progress and his actual understanding of the work and he believed that Marcus needed to know about it.
He smiled to himself right before he fell asleep, who would have ever thought that Marcus Flint of all people could be a really intelligent, competent teacher? It just went to show that you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover. Marcus had been the ‘thick headed troll’ for as long as Harry had known him, only compounded by the fact that he had been held back a year and not allowed to graduate. None of them had known the reason for that, they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed that he was too stupid and had gotten a T in all his exams and they’d thought nothing more about it. Harry wanted to show Marcus how brilliant he was and how adept he was at teaching, even if he was vulgar, mildly abusive and very impatient, he got results and Harry was going to show him that despite his rather unorthodox method, with the right student, he could teach others his love and passion for Ancient Runes successfully.

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

As soon as things started to go right for him again and he had started to settle back down after his bout of flu, Dumbledore stuck his nose into his business yet again.
Harry tried to keep calm, remembering what Lucius had said about accepting the ‘reconciliation meetings’ in order to spy on the Headmaster. He hadn’t been happy about that, but he also remembered the thought that he’d had at the time, that just because he heard such information didn’t mean that he had to pass it on. He could pass his own judgement and do what he thought was best. So when the order to go to the Headmaster’s office came, he squashed the automatic sense of anger and the irritation that his study time was being cut short. He instead prepared himself as he would for a Wizengamot meeting, locking away as much emotion as he could, holding his body in perfect posture and breathing nice and deep, slow and calmly.
He spoke the password (acid pops) to the stone gargoyle before standing on the winding stairs, letting them take him up instead of climbing the stairs himself, he still wasn’t well, he wasn’t going to exhaust himself needlessly.
He knocked on the door and politely waited to be bid to enter. He kept his face nicely blank as he opened the door and he took a seat without being asked…well his politeness would only stretch so far after all, this was the man who had tried to take the heritage, that his parents had wanted him to have, away from him and had been presiding over his estate while he’d been in the dark about its very existence.

“You asked to see me.” He stated calmly.

“I did, Harry, yes.” Dumbledore said, looking at him consideringly. “How are you?”

“I’m well enough, thank you.” He said blandly.

“Still taking your potions?”

“I am.” He said, offering no more information.

“Are you getting better?”

Harry nodded his head curtly, just the once, refusing to answer verbally. He’d learnt this trick from Lucius, to get less verbal with each question to convey disinterest in a subject without outright saying it out loud.

“To the nature of your visit then.” Dumbledore said softly.

Harry wanted to scoff at that…a visit implied that he was here by choice or that he had come without being told, but he didn’t, he kept a hold of himself. Instead he pulled his ‘Lord’ persona around himself tighter and kept his face nicely blank.

“These meetings are going to teach us about Voldemort.” Dumbledore told him.

Harry sighed then. “I have told you already that I’m not going to fight in this war.”

“Yes, but I am hoping that these meetings will change your mind, Harry. I know that you want him gone as much as I do, but it has to be you who strikes the final blow.”

“I don’t see why.” Harry said tightly.

“Perhaps you will come to understand soon, with the help of these lessons.” Dumbledore replied. “We are running low on time. I had wanted to start these meetings in September, to pace them out a little more for clarity, but now we have lost the luxury of time.”

Harry stared at the Pensieve as Dumbledore stood and moved over to it and he warred with himself. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He had no idea how a Pensieve worked or if they could trap someone inside of them. He swallowed and decided that if he did go missing then Lucius would look everywhere for him, turning over every book and drawer and hunting through hell and high water for him. He’d told Draco exactly where he was going, despite being told, rather seriously, to keep these meetings strictly to himself, so if he was kidnapped, then he fully expected Draco to tell Lucius and his Father to come and rescue him.

“What’s in there?” He asked despite himself.

“We are going on a trip down Bob Ogden’s memory lane. We have quite a bit to do tonight, Harry, so if you will.” Dumbledore indicated the Pensieve and Harry took a deep breath and pushed his face to the strange partial liquid, partial gas substance inside the Pensieve.

Harry focused intently on the memory when he landed in it, on his feet, looking around what Dumbledore had called Little Hangleton. He memorised as much as he could, just in case he wanted to pass the information on. He stored it all, thankful that the wooziness of the calcium potion he’d taken several hours ago had worn off, allowing him to think rationally and store the information that he was viewing.
They followed Bob Ogden, whose glasses were worse than Harry’s old round, black framed ones from before his adoption, and who was wearing a one-piece swimming costume which he had chosen to wear with a frock coat over the top of it and paired with spats. Harry shook his head at the stupidity of the wizarding born.
Harry couldn’t help the disgusted sneer when he saw what had become of the Gaunt’s, however. He looked at the little shack, complete with a snake nailed to the front door like a grisly, caricature knocker, and the people who lived there. It must have been the inbreeding of the Purebloods that had reduced them to this sorry state. Morfin Gaunt had thick, matted hair that Harry couldn’t determine the colour of, his eyes were small and dark and looked in opposite directions and he had several missing teeth. Looking at the state of the shack, Harry could well imagine that these people lacked the excess funds for a dose of Skele-gro. Marvolo Gaunt was strangely ill proportioned, with too wide shoulders and overly-long arms. He looked like a powerful, aged monkey to Harry as he listened to the spiel coming from their mouths, the abuse for Muggles, the disdain of Muggleborns, the Pureblood supremacy trope. He understood their comments in Parseltongue and he tried to look past all of that to retain the important information.
When he saw Merope, who looked much like her brother with dull, lank hair and eyes that looked in opposite directions, then to the introduction of Tom Riddle and his lady friend Cecilia, he started to piece things together and he paid even closer attention.
When they finally came out of the Pensieve, the memory having ended, Harry sat in quiet contemplation until Dumbledore interrupted his thought process.

“Do you understand what you’ve just seen, Harry?”

“Yes.” He said, still thinking hard.

“Would you care to share?”

“That was Voldemort’s family. The last of the Gaunt’s.” Harry said. “Tom Riddle is his Father, Merope Gaunt his Mother. I just don’t understand how they even got together to have a baby…unless, she was a witch after all, wasn’t she? She wasn’t actually a squib as her Father claimed.”

“No. No she was not. When her Father and brother were imprisoned, she found herself free for the first time and her magic flourished.”

“She bewitched him then. Tom Riddle, I mean. Her magic came back, or wasn’t being suppressed anymore, and that was what she chose to do with it, bewitch a poor, defenceless Muggle into loving her?”

“By means of a love potion.” Dumbledore nodded before telling him what became of Merope Gaunt, giving birth on the steps of an orphanage after being left by her Husband when she had taken him off of the love potion in the misguided belief that he would stay with her for the baby’s sake.

“That’s sick and wrong.” Harry sneered. “No wonder he left her when he came to his senses and didn’t want anything to do with the baby afterwards. At the end of the day it was rape. She raped him by magical means and then what, expected him to stay afterwards?!”

He shook his head and thought harder. That baby born would have been Voldemort.

“If you would like to move on?” Dumbledore asked and Harry looked up. He nodded.

The next memory was one of Dumbledore’s own. Of the day he’d gone to see Tom Riddle with his Hogwarts letter in the orphanage. Again Harry watched closely, retaining all information given. Particularly the bit of information that the young Tom Riddle had liked to keep trophies from his ‘victims’ of his young, budding magic.
After that memory had ended, they’d gone into a third memory, this one was from an older Morfin Gaunt, whose unkempt hair had grown down over his eyes and mouth since his release from Azkaban. Harry wanted to be sick just looking at him and the state of the shack that he still lived in, sleeping amongst rotted food and unwashed plates with no Merope there to do everything for him like a house-elf.
He saw the sixteen year old Tom Riddle and Harry once again paid very close attention, looking at the scene in front of him and processing the information and memorising all that he could.
Once done with this third memory, Harry was tired and it was very late. He listened as Dumbledore told him about Voldemort’s school years, how brilliant and clever he was, how seemingly perfect and handsome. Harry listened quietly as Dumbledore told him that Tom Riddle was obsessed with his heritage, that he was horrified to learn that he was a half-blood, that his Father had been a Muggle. Harry was then told how he’d stunned his Uncle Morfin, went to the Riddle house and killed his Father and Grandparents before framing his Uncle for the murders and taking the last relic of his family, the Gaunt family ring. Harry’s head hurt and he couldn’t prevent the next yawn, having been able to politely suppress all the ones previously.

“Are you feeling alright, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “I apologise, but recently I have not been staying up this late.” He confided.

“We shall leave things here for now, then.” Dumbledore told him and Harry nodded.

He stood and said his goodbyes. He hurried back to his rooms and he immediately pulled out parchment, ink and a quill and he wrote down every single bit of information that he’d heard tonight, even that which seemed irrelevant to him at the moment, and then he jotted down his immediate thoughts on the matter, what he’d thought at the time, his immediate reaction to all that he’d seen and what he’d learnt. Tomorrow he would go back over it and think more deeply about everything and see what his thoughts were then and if they’d changed in the light of a new day, but for now it was much too late and he needed to get some much needed sleep. It was nearing midnight before he managed to take his nutrient potion with a glass of juice and finally climb into bed, utterly drained and exhausted. Tomorrow was going to be particularly brutal on him because of this little late night trip down Voldemort’s past life, he was not going to get any better, or healthier, if he kept up these late nights.

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

The knock on effect of his very late night lasted into the first week of March, which wasn’t helped at all by a second meeting with Dumbledore and another incredibly late night, just as he’d been getting better and back into a routine, and he was seriously contemplating missing the Quidditch match that Saturday. It was just that he was at his limit, he was too tired, feeling worn out and downtrodden, but when Blaise wholeheartedly agreed that he should miss the match when he’d voiced his thoughts on the matter to him and Draco, he had scowled.

“You’ve done it now, Blaise.” Draco groaned. “You’ve set off that innate stubbornness! You should have just shut up and not said anything.”

Blaise scowled and crossed his arms. “Forgive me for wanting Slytherin to win the Quidditch Cup just once while we’re here!”

“If you don’t feel well enough, Harry, and you obviously don’t or you wouldn’t have mentioned it, then don’t play.” Draco tried.

Harry shook his head. “It’ll be alright, I’m just tired.” He insisted. “Maybe I should start taking naps during the day.”

Draco gave Blaise a look that clearly said that this was all his fault before turning back to Harry.

“You never said what Dumbledore wanted yesterday.”

“The same as he wanted in February. Those stupid reconciliation meetings, we’re having one once a month.” Harry said, thinking back to the two memories that he’d been shown last night, a memory from a house-elf named Hokey, whose mistress, Hepzibah Smith, had been visited by Tom Riddle and she had shown him two of her most treasured possessions, Hufflepuff’s cup and Slytherin’s locket. The same locket that Merope had sold before her baby had been born. Harry had seen Tom Riddle’s eyes flash red, and so had Hepzibah. She had given the locket and cup back to the house-elf, Hokey, for her to lock away sharpish…not that it had done much as Dumbledore had informed him after that particular memory had ended that just two days later Hepzibah Smith had been found dead and Hokey had been convicted of poisoning her in the confusion of her old age. Like with Morfin Gaunt, Tom Riddle had committed murder and he had successfully framed someone else to get what he had wanted.

‘He’s collecting things that remind him of his magical heritage.’ Harry had thought at the time.

The other memory had been another of Dumbledore’s. Of when Tom Riddle, calling himself Voldemort openly now, had come to Hogwarts seeking the Defence Against the Dark Arts position at the school. A position that Dumbledore, then the Headmaster, had denied him.
Harry was still trying to piece everything together and what learning about Voldemort would mean, or at least why he was being forced to do so.

“Has he changed your mind yet?” Blaise asked with a grin.

Harry scoffed. “It’s a complete waste of time.” He said. “I’d much rather be sleeping.”

“What do you talk about?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. “I won’t bore you with the details.” He insisted firmly. “I’ve had to go through it once, I don’t want to do it twice.”

“So, you won’t be fit for the match in a few days?” Blaise pestered.

“I will, I just need to get some more sleep. I might cut back a bit more on my homework.” He said, not liking the idea, but he needed a break from school work for a while, a Quidditch match was going to do the trick. If he felt at all ill on the day, or even during the match, then he would call a time out and substitute himself. He wasn’t going to take any chances, he had a lot more to live for these days and he didn’t want to upset Rabastan or incur Lucius’ wrath if he ended up fainting, vomiting or breaking a bone.

“I will help you catch up afterwards.” Draco said.

“Don’t help him!” Blaise cried.

Draco laughed. “He’s still my brother, Blaise. He supported us against Ravenclaw, we have to support him now against Hufflepuff.”

Blaise didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded anyway.

“He did look cute in a Slytherin hat and scarf.” Blaise chuckled. “I kept a picture.”

“For what purpose?” Harry asked seriously.

“It’s in one of my albums.” Blaise said, holding his hands up. “I like you, but it’s hardly a nude pic. Though if you want to give me a nude pic then I wouldn’t object to it.”

Harry laughed, but Draco growled protectively and glared at his best friend.

“No, no one gets a naked picture of me.” Harry said. “Not even Rabastan.”

“Oh, your dirty letters haven’t progressed that far yet, have they?” Draco grumped.

Harry winked. “Not just yet, maybe next year.” He giggled.

He had to laugh at the twin looks of shock that were being sent at him.

“I’ll be seventeen in the next school year.” He pointed out. “A legal adult.”

“And your first action as a legal adult will be to send naked photos of yourself?”

Harry grinned. “It’s not like I’ll be putting them on the front page of the Prophet.” He chuckled. “Rabastan is my Fiancé and he will be my Husband and the Father to my children, why not send him naked, alluring photos?”

“If we are staying on this topic, then I’m leaving.”

“It’s almost curfew anyway.” Harry said. “Thank you for helping me sort out my latest mountain of homework.”

“Of course, if you need help after the match as well, just ask.” Draco said. “You’re a Malfoy too, if you fail, you make me look bad by comparison.”

Harry just grinned. He saw the two of them out and then went back to his settee. He made more tea for himself and then pulled out his notes on the meetings that he was having with Dumbledore, looking through the sheaves of parchment he had, trying to figure out what it all meant.
As usual Dumbledore wasn’t being very forth coming with information, so Harry was trying to figure it out for himself.
So far all he had was that Tom Riddle in the orphanage had been a kleptomaniac who had taken toys and things from the other children and that he was possibly still taking things, such as the cup and locket from Hepzibah Smith and the Gaunt ring that he’d taken from Morfin.
Other than that he’d gotten a need to feel individual and unique, the desire to know his own heritage and the obsession with blood purity and his fury over finding out that his Father was a Muggle. It had made Harry wonder if Tom hadn’t killed his Father and his Grandparents purely for being Muggles, so that no one would ever be able to find out that he was related to them.
He nibbled on his quill, trying to make a link between everything and the objects that Voldemort was now ‘collecting’ opposed to his youthful self. Mainly Slytherin’s locket and Hufflepuff’s cup. Relics of the founders. Physical ties to magic and to Hogwarts, something to remind him that he belonged at Hogwarts, that he was magical and not a Muggle like his Father and Grandparents. It stood to reason that he would have sought out other relics of the founders too, so he jotted down something of Gryffindor’s and something of Ravenclaw’s too. He, of course, remembered Gryffindor’s sword. He wondered if Voldemort hadn’t tried to ‘collect’ that too. If the sword was the only relic of Gryffindor’s left, then Voldemort obviously didn’t have it.
He tapped the quill against his lips and thought hard about it. He put the sword next to the something of Gryffindor’s and circled it. If Voldemort wanted it, Harry could easily get it, it was up in Dumbledore’s office after all and he still had the Marauder’s Map and his invisibility cloak. It might keep his family safer if he gave Voldemort something that he’d obviously been searching for since his teen years.
Giving up on his train of thought for the night, Harry packed everything away, stood up and stretched. He then went to his potions cupboard and grabbed his nutrient potion and a glass of juice, drained them both and then he went to bed. He’d been given more than enough to think about over the last few weeks. Now he just had to survive until the twenty-second, when he could go home and spend two blissful weeks with Rabastan. He couldn’t wait.

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

The eighth of March brought sunshine and determination in equal measure. Harry had woken up covered in dried sweat, but that had become normal for him now, ever since he’d started taking his daily potions.
He showered off easily enough, dressed in his scarlet Quidditch robes and dark yellow leggings and he shouldered his Firebolt, snatching up his bone strengthening potion to take down to breakfast with him, along with the standard headache reliever which didn’t get rid of the headache that came as a side effect from the bone strengthening potion, but he had tried not taking the headache reliever once and he’d almost passed out from the pain. So the headache reliever managed the pain enough for him to focus and function more normally and that was what he needed in spades today.
He sat at the Slytherin table, the only speck of gold and red in amongst them, and he ate a small bowl of porridge sweetened with honey and lots of strawberry jam. As soon as he was done, he swallowed both his potions and shook his head, draining a glass of pumpkin juice before he drained the small glass of goat milk before seizing his cup of tea and draining that too. He couldn’t wait until this was all over and he never had to look at another potion ever again.

“Are you sure that you’re fit enough to play?” Blaise almost whined.

Harry smiled. “I’ve been feeling so much better in recent days.” He said happily.

“You truly are looking better too.” Pansy told him. “You have more colour to you and those dreadful black bags have vanished from under your eyes.”

“A couple of days of light homework and sleeping nearly fourteen hours a night can do that. I feel better than I have in months.”

“Don’t ruin all your progress by breaking your neck.” Draco told him, which was probably as close as he’d ever admit to showing true concern for him.

“I’m a pro.” Harry boasted. “I know exactly when I need to pull out of a dive on my Firebolt to avoid the ground.”

“When are you going to let me have a go?” Blaise asked him.

“On the Firebolt? Whenever you want, Blaise. You only had to ask.” Harry insisted. “Just don’t damage or break it or I will seriously end your life.”

“Really? So when we get back from the break, I can have a go on it then?” Blaise asked.

Harry nodded. “It’ll be warmer in April too.”

“Hopefully you’ll be much better after two weeks off to yourself.” Astoria told him kindly. “A nice break could be just what you need to get on top of things.”

Harry nodded. “I can’t wait. I’m going to spend most of it resting, I already know that and that’s without Mother and Father getting involved too. But I just want to spend a lot of it in bed, sleeping.” He insisted.

“We won’t recognise you when you come back.” Blaise chuckled.

“That can only be a good thing when I’m walking around looking like an inferius.” He smiled.

An hour before the match started, Harry stood from the Slytherin table and went to the Gryffindor table to collect his team and his reserves. He got hisses and several spiteful comments from his own housemates as he walked down the table, but he just looked at those doing as such blankly, as if he thought them the worst of scum. He’d learnt that one from Xerxes.

“Katie, are you ready?” He asked with a smile.

“One minute.” She called back, picking up her glass of juice and draining it. She stood and between them, they wrangled up the team and the reserves.

“We’re so early.” Jimmy complained.

“I want a bit of a warm up first.” Harry told them as they reached the Entrance Hall. “It’s no secret that I haven’t been feeling well lately, I need to see if I’m fit enough to play.”

“You will be, won’t you?” Demelza asked him worriedly.

“I hope so, but I’m not sure. I’ve been feeling better lately, but I want Dillan with us, just in case.” Harry nodded to the small, slight boy he’d been personally training when they both had a free moment, the young twelve year old who was his handpicked reserve Seeker.

“I…I don’t want to play!” Dillan told him desperately as they made their way outside into the snowy grounds.

Harry looked at him. “Then why the hell did you try out?” He asked.

“I wanted to be a Chaser!”

“You’re better suited to being a Seeker.” Harry told him.

“I can’t compare to you!” Dillan cried. “What if I don’t catch the snitch?”

“Then you don’t catch it and you move on to the next game.” Harry said. “Not even I’ve caught the snitch a hundred percent of the time!” He told the young Dillan, trying to make him feel better.

“Only because the Dementors made you fall!” Demelza insisted, but it negated what Harry had been trying to do.

“I told Cedric at the time that he deserved the win, especially when he was pushing for a rematch. The greatest thing this game can teach you is humility and a bit of sportsmanship. It’s not the end of the world if we lose, okay? We will bow out with grace, congratulate Hufflepuff on their spectacular win, because let’s face it, if they beat our star Chasers and phenomenal Keeper then it will be a spectacular win, and we look towards the game in May against Ravenclaw. We can afford one loss this year with the points we’ve accumulated against Slytherin. But if we do lose for whatever reason, we will not be sour faced dick bags about it, alright?”

Katie snorted. “That’s an interesting way to phrase it.” She said.

Harry grinned. “I mean it. Dillan, if I substitute myself it will be because I am too ill to play, it will be a last resort okay? If I do that and you don’t catch the snitch, I won’t care. I will probably be unconscious somewhere, vomiting into my own hair or something. But I have been training with you myself, I know that I can count on you to do your best. I chose you, I handpicked you out of all the others who tried out to be my replacement if it was needed. You’d do just fine.”

The twelve year old nodded stubbornly and set his jaw. Harry smiled and looked at the weather conditions. It was cold still, but unlike the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw match, the sun was out and there wasn’t any clouds or anything, just the snow on the ground.

“Perfect conditions for Beaters. Jimmy, Ritchie, I want you both to hit the Bludgers out of the sun, okay? The Hufflepuffs won’t even see them coming. Pauley, depending on which half we’re playing in, you might be at a disadvantage because of these conditions, do what you can and try to anticipate where the Quaffle is coming from so that you don’t damage your eyes staring at the sun. If they have any sort of strategy then they will try to blind you with the sun while trying to score.”

Harry led the team and the young reserves out onto the pitch and they all kicked off into the air, flying and getting a feel for the conditions. He saw Pauley go straight for the hoops that had the sun shining on them and he watched as the young boy tried to work out tactics with his own young reservist. They started talking and debating with one another, pointing to the sun and then diving to one hoop or the other.
Harry didn’t feel too bad at the moment and he caught up to Dillan and he started running through tactics with him, telling him how best to strategise in this weather, with the sun.

“The sun will catch the snitch more easily so it’ll start glittering and shining like a homing beacon in the dark, so you’ll want to watch your opponent a little more, just in case.” Harry said, using this time as an impromptu lesson. “On such a clear day, this match should be over relatively quickly because of the sun. In conditions like this there’s nowhere for the snitch to hide, so the game is usually won by whichever Seeker catches the snitch first.”

“Please let it be you. I’m not ready.” Dillan told him in panic.

Harry smiled kindly. “I’m feeling alright for the moment. I’m hoping for a quick win. But you’re more ready than you might think, Dillan.” He insisted. “It’s nerves that are making you afraid, as soon as you start playing, all that melts away. I’m always a little nervous before a match and I’m sure that Katie will tell you the same thing, but these butterflies are normal, no matter how long you’ve been playing or how many games you’ve played, a bit of nerves before a match is completely normal.”

When the other students started coming down from the castle Harry called out to his team and got them into their changing rooms under the giant gold lion on the red background. He huddled them around for a pep talk, pulling them all in, even the reserves.

“Right you lot, I’m hoping for a nice, clean, quick game.” He said. “Jimmy, Ritchie, take out the Seeker and the other Beaters as a priority.”

“The Beaters?” Jimmy asked.

Harry nodded seriously. “They can use the sun too, and we won’t see them until it’s too late. They can do a lot of harm in these conditions, so take them out before they do the same to us.”

The two boys nodded just as seriously.

“Katie, Demelza, Sarah. Girls we need to control the possession of the Quaffle as much as possible to give the Hufflepuffs as little opportunity to score against us. Make your passes clean and precise, watch out for interceptions and be aware of any Bludgers coming out of your blind spot.”

Harry looked at the three girls closely, making sure they understood what he was saying, though Katie was old hat at this, she knew exactly what he was asking. He was going to miss her presence when she graduated at the end of the year.

“Pauley, if we lose the toss and get the hoops in the sun, don’t panic. The girls will support you and control the possession as much as possible. Don’t damage your eyes by looking at the sun, try and determine where they’re coming from and which hoop they’ll have the best chance of aiming at and block it if you can, but don’t dwell on it if they score. It’s expected in such conditions, especially if the sun is against us.”

“And you.” Katie directed at him. “Don’t kill yourself. We have a reserve this year, if you start feeling unwell or drowsy, take yourself off.”

“You will take over the captaincy in my place, in the event that I am substituted.” He told her. “But I am hoping for a quick catch.”

“If anyone can do it, you can.”

Harry chuckled. He turned and got some water from the jug on the table and made sure his team were ready, that their equipment was pristine and their uniform in place. He made sure that his Firebolt was still perfect and then, in no time at all, they were heading back out onto the pitch and facing off against Hufflepuff.
Harry actively looked for Draco, Astoria, Blaise and Theo. They were sat together at the front of the Slytherin bleachers and they hadn’t worn Gryffindor colours, as he had worn the Slytherin colours to their match, but they did have a banner. A banner that was gold on red and simply said ‘Don’t die, Potter.’ It made him laugh in surprise.
His team looked at him and he nodded at the Slytherin bleachers and to the banner right at the front.

“They truly have come to like you if they aren’t cheering for your death.” Katie teased.

“Tell me about it! It’s amazing to actually have a brother, even if he is a ferret.” Harry grinned.

Madam Hooch instructed the two captains to shake hands and Harry stepped forward and did so happily and amicably, wishing the Hufflepuffs luck, setting a good example for his young team. Madam Hooch fully approved if the smile she gave him was any indication. She offered him first pick of the side of the Galleon, because Gryffindor were ahead in points, and after a look to his team, he chose heads. It came up tails…they were playing in the sun.
The whistle blew and they were up in the air and Harry immediately started coasting for the snitch. He had meant it when he’d said that he wanted this to be a nice, quick game, his healing body wouldn’t take a four hour match like the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw game. He’d barely survived that one and he’d been a spectator, an enthusiastic, active spectator, but he’d been in the bleachers nonetheless and not playing. The Bludger that almost took him in the centre chest put a stop to that thought as he rolled under his own broom to avoid it. He took a moment to catch his breath and then turned to glare at the Hufflepuff Beater who was looking at him hopefully, as if fervently hoping that the Bludger sent at him would strike him and he’d fall. The fucking rat bastard.
Harry flew straight over to Jimmy, his nearest Beater.

“Take that one out quickly.” He said seriously, nodding to the Beater who’d tried to take him out.

“Number four?” Jimmy asked him, keeping his eyes on the numbered Beater.

“Number four.” Harry confirmed.

“Yes, Captain.”

Harry went back to coasting for the snitch, now more aware of Bludgers and other players. He filtered out the noise from the crowd and from the game, only the occasional loud shout or snippet of commentary getting through, but Harry had every faith in his team. He had his own job to do and he needed to do it quickly.
He did smile when there was a collective gasp and he turned to see that a Bludger had taken out the Hufflepuff Beater who had fallen to the snow below…Hufflepuff’s number four. He laughed and looked for Jimmy and gave the young boy a thumbs up, getting an exuberant grin back.
Harry slipped up higher and coasted again, hoping for a glimpse of the snitch, filtering in the noise for a mere moment to hear a bit of commentary to make sure that they were in the lead and his star girls were doing what they did best, dominating the Quaffle and the possession of the game. He heard ‘another ten points to Gryffindor, making that one hundred points to twenty’ and he cut out again. The girls were doing brilliant and if Hufflepuff only had twenty points, then Pauley was doing spectacular too, against all the odds and the unrelenting glare of the sun.
The game wore on and Harry kept his eyes on the other Seeker, just in case, but he had no clue where the snitch was hiding, he hadn’t even seen a glimmer of gold that would indicate that the sun had caught it. He did have the thought that perhaps it was down in the trenches that drained the excess water off of the pitch, but he wasn’t going to go down there, just in case it turned up while he was down amongst the wooden beams.
The remaining Beater was hard at work, aiming for Pauley, and Harry wasn’t having any of that. Ritchie had taken out one of the Chasers and was going for the Seeker, Jimmy was also aiming at the Seeker, leaving the Hufflepuff Beater free to aim at their Keeper. Pauley couldn’t watch for the Quaffle and Bludgers too, not with the sun in his eyes.
Harry went to Ritchie first.

“Protect Pauley, the Beater is trying to take him out.” Harry said.

Ritchie looked to his friend and Harry watched him scowl fiercely. “I’ve got him. Leave it to me.”

Ritchie flew off, his bat raised, to protect Pauley at the Gryffindor hoops and Harry caught Jimmy’s eye and nodded to the remaining Beater. Jimmy nodded back and Harry knew then that his meaning had been made plain. Very soon Hufflepuff would be left with no Beaters, which is just what Harry wanted. He could handle their Seeker himself, it was the Beaters that he had been worried about, because of the blinding sun and the lack of cloud cover.
There was another gasp from the crowd several minutes later and Harry turned to see the other Beater, the number five, following the previous Beater down into the snow. He chuckled darkly and then turned back to coasting for the snitch, looking more with his peripheral vision than dead on and finally he caught the sparkle of glittering gold.
He was gone, turning on a hairpin and giving chase to the snitch at a hundred and fifty miles per hour, everyone around him blurring to mere colours with no detail as he flew past them. A blob of yellow bravely tried to get in his way, but Harry dropped under his broom and hung there in an insane move that passed him right under the blocking Hufflepuff and allowed him to roll back up onto his broom properly and carry on hunting the snitch at the Firebolt’s top speed.
He almost outstripped the snitch, turning at the last moment and plucking it straight from the air, holding it up in victory. His vision was blurry because of his fast chase around the pitch and he took several extra deep breaths.

“Oi! Stop ignoring me, are you alright?”

Harry turned then and he had to laugh as he realised that he was right in front of the Slytherin bleachers, hovering just a few feet above them. He moved closer, right in front of Draco.

“I’m fine.” He insisted. “I thought I was going to murder that one Hufflepuff who got in the way, but I managed to avoid them.”

“I thought for sure that you were going to collide!” Blaise said. “It was less than a second and you were under the Chaser and back on your broom. How did you even see it, let alone have time to think what to do?!”

“It seemed longer than that.” Harry insisted. “It felt like I had loads of time to see the yellow blob, to realise what was happening and then to roll underneath my broom as I passed under their attempt to block me.”

“Well it wasn’t loads of time, it was a split second! I almost died, Potter!” Draco told him. “Don’t do that again!”

Harry laughed and held out the snitch. “I don’t have to.” He gave them a cheeky wink and he flew off back to the centre of the pitch and he landed in the snow to give Madam Hooch the snitch and he all but fell into the arms of his waiting teammates.

“We did it!” Sarah was cheering.

“You girls were amazing! Pauley, where are you, you were brilliant too!” Harry insisted as he found the young Keeper and clapped his back. “Jimmy, Ritchie, you guys were so accurate with your shots! That practice definitely paid off, boys.” He praised. “Taking out the opposing Beaters like that, well done!”

“You were pretty great too, our star Seeker.” Katie told him with a grin.

“Right, we can all congratulate ourselves and say we’re the greatest team ever in a bit.” Harry insisted. “Once we’re warm and dry! I need to get out of these robes and into a warm shower and warm clothes before I keel over.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I was, until that final chase, now I need to sit down for a bit.” He admitted. “My vision is a bit blurry still.”

“Right, let’s get into the changing rooms.” Katie said, taking over.

Harry preceded the three young boys into the showers and he took just a few minutes to stand under the warm water before hurrying to dry himself off and climb back into his Quidditch robes and casting a warming charm on them, sinking into the wave of immediate heat that the charm gave.

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

One by one he cast the same charm on the three young boys and watched them sink into their own robes as well. He smiled.

“Come on.” He chided. “Let’s get the girls and go to our after party.”

“Will you get sweets and things again?” Pauley asked.

“You bet I will.” Harry said, watching with a smile as the boys whooped and charged off ahead of him.

He sighed and lifted his left hand to his mouth and he kissed his ring.

“I miss you more and more.” He whispered to it. “I wish you’d been here today to watch me win. I can’t wait, just two more weeks and I’ll be back in your arms. I love you. I’ll be with you again soon.”

“Come on, Harry!” Demelza called out from up ahead and Harry looked up and he smiled at the rest of his team.

He chuckled and quickened his pace to catch up to them. Just two more weeks and he would be back at home with Rabastan. He would have just two weeks with his Fiancé and he was determined to make the most of it while he could. He would have just two weeks of kissing Rabastan’s lips instead of his engagement ring, he would have just two weeks to sit beside Rabastan and speak to him without waiting several days to hear a reply to his words. He would have just two weeks to comfort and personally support Rabastan until he would have to come back to Hogwarts for another eleven weeks. It seemed so fucking long, eleven weeks…but it would all be worth it when he got two full, uninterrupted months with Rabastan for the summer. Hopefully they would both be a lot better by the time that the end of term came around and the summer holidays started. It was only that thought that was getting him through this continuous hell.

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A/N: A very late chapter, but I’m amazed that I actually got this one done! Just before I go off to work too, so I’m very happy with it. This is a few days later than normal, because it’s a birthday chapter, but I’m just glad I got it out at all!
A lot of you are asking about Theo and Daphne, don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about that, but it’s not going to be soon! Theo is a Slytherin for a reason and he’s not going to rush his revenge, he’s going to take his time, so expect him to play along a little with Daphne to lure her further into her sense of unshakable security and then when she least expects it, he’s going to rip her down and keep her down. Her and his Father, the latter of which is why his plan is taking so long, because he needs to find a way to keep himself secure too. So don’t worry, it will come, just a little later in the plot line, like Rhadamanthus and Bellatrix.

I believe that’s it, lovelies, until next week because we do have yet another chapter to be updated, I hope that you’ve enjoyed the story,

StarLight Massacre. X
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The Guile and Devotion of a Black Heir