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Here But For the Grace of Merlin	By : makochan0217 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. We make nothing from this piece of fanfiction, and suing would be pointless, unless you like lint and bad skin!

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Warnings and Disclaimers found in Chapter 1.

Author’s Notes: Thanks go to my reviewers! And again, many thanks to Jokes for being completely brilliant!

Chapter Seventeen—Revenge is Spiffy

Draco sat in his laboratory, staring out of the large windows out onto the snow-covered grounds of Malfoy Manor, his mind a whirling mess of conflicting ideas and possible consequences of any decision that he made at that point in time regarding his father’s health. He was torn. He could have Lucius cured, thereby prolonging his life and keeping him from becoming a Squib or mad with pain. Or, he could leave him to die, unknowing that the boy who killed his former master was staying in their home, and protecting Harry Potter from any dangers that Lucius would become when missing such a significant portion of his memories of the last year or even longer.

He knew that any choice he made would be painful and it was his to make. His mother had made that much plain. Oh, she’d told him that she wouldn’t blame him for anything he chose, but he knew her enough to know that what she wanted was for Lucius to live for a little longer without the debilitating pain that would come with leaving him permanently cursed. The only thing that stopped him from speaking to Bill Weasley and Jacobi right away about starting the process to relieve his father was Harry Potter. And wasn’t that a big enough reason to delay his decision.

Who can I confide in? Mother has already proven that she will not help. I don’t dare speak to Harry about it. Severus is dead, and he would be the best to consult on this issue. A sudden idea came to his mind and he stood up, a plan forming in his mind. He would speak to Granger. Perhaps she would have a perspective untainted by emotion. Okay, so that might be pushing things, but at least I can trust her to try and be objective.

If nothing else, she would understand what it would be like to make a hard decision about the well-being of a parent. I don’t doubt that Obliviating her own parents was anything but difficult. He frowned as he realised what he was thinking. I can’t believe I am actually going to let someone who was once an enemy assist me—well, know intimate and personal family details—with this situation.

And, so, he went to find out where the bushy-haired girl had gone off to.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You have good news?” Harry asked, watching as Bill and Fleur exchanged looks of adoration. “What’s going on?”

“Well, Harry, you’re going to be the first to find out, even before Mum and Dad, but we’re going to have a baby,” Bill said happily as he took his wife’s hand to squeeze it.

“Oh, congratulations,” the dark-haired wizard replied, feeling genuine happiness for his family. “So, um, when do you think the tyke will be born?”

“We are not positive, but zhe doctor says zhat zhe enfant could be born during zhe summer,” Fleur gushed, her face absolutely glowing.

“That’s great,” Harry said. A knock on the door made the trio turn and look. “Come in.”

“Ah, Harry, Mr and Mrs Weasley,” Narcissa said from the doorway. “I’m afraid that something has occurred today that shall force us to delay the oath-taking. Unfortunately, Draco is holed up in his laboratory at the moment, or I would have had him speak to you himself. You are very welcome to stay and visit with Harry as long as you wish, however.”

“Thank you, Mrs Malfoy,” Bill said stiffly.

Harry watched the blonde woman carefully. There was something off about her. In the short time he’d been around her, he’d gotten used to seeing her eyes bright and cheerful even while her face was expressionless. Now, however, her eyes were dead. She looked like the statue he remembered from the Quidditch World Cup back before fourth year. He realised that he didn’t like that very much. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, no, Harry, there’s nothing wrong,” she said quickly. Too quickly, he thought. “When you are done speaking with Mr and Mrs Weasley, I would like to speak to you. There is something that I have found in the library that I think you might find illuminating.”

“Okay,” Harry said, smiling as Narcissa waved her hand quickly and disappeared behind the door. He turned to Bill and Fleur and suddenly found that he was really exhausted. “Sorry about that.”

“I wonder what it eez zhat would cancel zhe oazh-takeeng,” Fleur muttered aloud.

“It would have to be Lucius, wouldn’t it?” Bill responded confidently. “I know I’m not the only one who noticed how out of sorts she seemed. If I didn’t know better, I would have never guessed that that had been Narcissa Malfoy.”

“I think you might be right,” Harry said. “And it can’t be any good, especially if Draco has made himself unavailable like this.”

“Well, if it has to do with Lucius, then I’m sure the Healer found something that might make my presence here a little redundant,” Bill said, as he ran his blue eyes over Harry’s face. “You look pretty tired, Harry, and if I know you at all, I’d say you’re running your brain in circles worrying about the whole debt issue.” The redhead gave Harry a small smile. “Don’t stress about it, Harry. You’ll figure out what to do that’s right for everyone. You’ll only help yourself to premature baldness like Dad, if you continue to brood.”

Fleur giggled prettily. “I do not zhink zhat you would be veery attracteeve like zhat, ‘Arry.”

Harry looked over at the oldest Weasley sibling and smiled faintly. “You might be right, Bill. ‘Mione’s always telling me that I don’t know how to let things go.” He turned to look at the pretty blonde woman. “And thanks, Fleur. It’s always so nice to know that you’re standing behind me to tell me that I look like shite.”

“Oh, do not be so—comment dit-il?—crude, ‘Arry.” She fluttered her blue eyes at him in a semblance of mock coquettishness. “Besides, you always look veery ‘andsome to me. Gabrielle too.”

“How is your sister?” he asked, remembering the last time he’d seen the other female—at Fleur and Bill’s wedding.

“Oh, she is doing veery well, merci. She is coming to stay wizh us in zhe summer.”

“Well, I hope you’ll pass along the next time you talk to her that I asked about her and say hello.”

“Of course we will,” Bill said, looking at his wife. “I think since our business here has been delayed, I’m going to take my wife home to take a nap. We’re heading over to the Burrow to tell Mum and Dad tonight. You want me to say anything to them for you?”

Harry frowned in concentration. “I-I, um, hm, yes,” he said finally. “Could you tell them that I’m okay but that I don’t want to see any of them right now? Especially if Percy’s there still.”

Bill frowned but nodded nonetheless. “Alright, Harry, but Ron and Ginny aren’t really going to accept that. Gin’s still under the impression that if she waits for you that you’ll come to your senses.”

“She’s not seeing anyone still?” Harry asked, confused by this information. “No offence, Bill, but I was pretty sure that she’d move on when she realised that I wasn’t going to come running back to her. She, uh, hasn’t really been single since her fourth year.”

“Yeah, I know, and I was pretty certain that she’d find someone else in the last nine months when it became obvious, at least to us, that you two were pretty much over,” the redhead said with a large sigh.

“I zhink zhat Ginny is still veery much in love wizh you, ‘Arry,” Fleur added quietly. “It weel not be so easy to move on from your first love.” A quick exchange of soppy looks between the newlyweds made Harry shift uncomfortably in his seat.

He knew that Fleur and Bill didn’t mean it, but they were so happy and perfect together that it was nearly impossible not to be envious of their relationship. He was painfully aware that he would never have that kind of relationship with Ginny, ever—especially considering the fact that he had discovered his overwhelming attraction to Draco Malfoy. Well, no, that wasn’t really fair. He was finally being honest about the sexual tension that had been churning between himself and the blond since fifth year of Hogwarts.

It had taken him until the end of the war to recognise it for what it really was. It was then that he’d figured out that not only was the blond possibly gay, despite his relationship with Pansy Parkinson at school, but that Hermione had been right during sixth year—that he’d been obsessed with Malfoy, even when he was trying to date Ginny.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair now, Harry,” Bill said, cutting into Harry’s unhappy thoughts mercifully. “You let us know when Malfoy and his mum will be ready to have us over here again to help out with Lucius and we’ll take the time.”

“Why aren’t you working right now?” Harry asked, not really thinking about how rude he sounded.

“Bill ‘as been takeen personal time to spend wizh me aftair zhe war,” Fleur answered for her husband. “I ‘ave not been veery willeen to be veery far from him since.”

The dark-haired wizard nodded, taking the woman’s words at face value. “Okay, I’ll write to you when everything’s settled. If you see George, Arthur, Charlie or Molly anytime soon, could you pass on my love?”

Bill stood and held out his hand in front of Harry, who took it immediately to shake it vigorously. “Of course, little brother,” he said. “If you need anything, you write to us right away. And you’d better send Fleur an owl in the next few days anyway. Never seen her as uptight as when you disappeared out of the public eye so suddenly.”

“Oh, no you do not, Bill,” Fleur scolded playfully. “You weel not put all of zhe blame on me. You were just as crazy as everyone else.”

“Yeah, sure, I admit it. I was. But, it’s Harry, Fleur. How could I not?”

“Yes, ‘ow could you not?” she asked, shaking her head before standing from her chair. Harry stood as well, unwilling to be the smallest person in the room, and was surprised by the extra tight hug that the blonde woman was wrapping him up in. “You weel write, non? I know where you are now.”

Harry chuckled ruefully. “Of course, Fleur. No need to have you storming Malfoy Manor because I haven’t written to you. I’ll show you out.”

“No need, Harry,” Bill said, taking his wife’s arm and looping it through his crooked elbow. “We’ll see ourselves out. Take care, you hear.”

“You too,” Harry answered, watching as the two older wizards left him alone in the sitting room that had felt so full not so long ago. Before he could allow himself to drift into melancholia, he decided to find Narcissa in the library. After all, she had some magic book that would answer his questions about the debt of honour, right?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Narcissa had just begun to actually worry about Harry’s sanity when the teen walked through the library doors with Crimmy escorting him. He seemed to be distracted, but not unpleasantly so, from what Narcissa could tell. The house-elf curtsied and then popped away discretely. That was enough to bring Harry’s full attention to where he was, and the woman couldn’t help but smile at the embarrassed grin he gave her. “I take it that you enjoyed your visit with the Weasleys?” she asked, feeling very proud of herself that she hadn’t sneered the name as she used to do.

“Oh, yes, it was pleasant enough,” Harry answered carefully as he moved to sit in the plush armchair next to hers before the roaring fire. He covered his mouth as he yawned widely. “Sorry about that. I’m feeling unusually tired all of a sudden.”

“Yes, well, it has been a rather stressful last few days,” Narcissa said sympathetically. If only Harry knew just how taxing they’d been for everyone else. “If you are too tired to speak with me right now, I can call Crimmy back to escort you to your room.”

“No, I’m fine, Narcissa. I can talk. I’ll take a nap later though.”

The blonde woman nodded before she got up and pulled down the volume she’d found after the meeting with Jacobi. “I found something that you might find interesting about your current situation. It might even help you make your decision a little easier.”

“I…I don’t really want to talk about that right now,” Harry said cautiously. “My head feels as if it’s going to explode as is.”

“Yes, well, I would suggest very strongly that you read this passage,” she said, placing the heavy tome in the teen’s lap.

He stared at the book as if it was going to attack him, but all that could be gleamed from the cover was the fact that it was old, of a soft leather that had begun to crack, and the title—Traditions and Rituals for the Young Pureblood—in large, Gothic, and gilded letters. “What’s this?”

“That is a book that is usually in every pureblood family’s library. The information that we’re interested in is on page 180. It’s not as extensive as it could be, but seeing as how the debt of honour is so rarely granted in modern times, that is not as surprising as it would otherwise be.”

Harry nodded, his dark head bent over the book as he read. Narcissa closed her blue eyes and could almost see the eyes seared onto her brain.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Debt of Honour - In times when pureblood families engaged in silent, and not-so-silent, feuds, many life-debts and the like were accrued by one person or another. In some cases, the debts that were owed could not be paid by the one who had the responsibility to do so. This could have been through unforeseen circumstances, such as death, loss of physical and/or mental faculties, or lack of monies. In those situations, the debt fell to the head of the family to pay back to the one who was owed.

If that was the case, then the head of the family had specific duties to fulfil to the recipient of the debt. One, he has to shelter the other person in his home if he should need it, for any reason.

Two, he must attempt to assist the other person in finding an acceptable marriage partner (the recipient's choice of gender is taken into account in this matter). This step absolutely must be adhered to since the honour of the debt lies heavily on the family that has incurred the debt. Since many of the families where such debts happened were pureblood and therefore concerned with continuing the family lines, it was logical to use such a debt to banish family feuds by intermarrying, and forcing both parties to become family and end the feud. In order to be acceptable, the spouse must recognise the lineages of both sides (pureblood, half-blood, or Muggle-born respectively) and how many times the lines have intermarried and whom they are currently attached to. If the prospective spouse does not or refuses to acknowledge this information, they are not acceptable and the magic will reject them.

Three, if the magic has rejected all of the prospective spouses, or none can be found that fit in with the desires of both sides of the debt, then the head of the family that has incurred the debt must offer to marry the holder of said debt into their family. If they are not married, they would be an acceptable choice, or if there was any person around the same age and of similar temperament of the holder, they would be named to marry the holder of the debt.

If these conditions are not kept, it would be seen by the debt's magic as forsaking their duties and stripping the family of any honour—past, present, or future—that would be attached to the family name. In that case, the entire family that owes the debt would be stripped of their magic, unless they have already married into another family.

The debt can become further complicated if there have been incidents of extreme violence between members of either side of the debt that are not direct results of a feud that has been openly acknowledge by previous generations and held at least for two generations. If that is the case, then should the holder of the debt refuse, even amicably, any assistance from the family that owes the debt, then the owing family will be stripped of their magic to right the wrongs that have happened.

As this is rather archaic and out of practice, and since many feuding families end up intermarrying to bury the feud, there are not a lot of modern day cases of this particular debt being put into play. The last case of this occurring in England was between Richard Potter and Julius-Marcus Malfoy in 1725. There is no record of these two families having any sort of feud ever, so it can only be assumed that the debt was made when Richard Potter saved the life of Julius-Marcus's nephew, who was two at the time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I don’t really get what this is saying,” Harry said after twenty minutes of silence and reading the passage three times to be sure. “There’s a lot of supercilious language here.”

Narcissa smiled at Harry’s choice of words. She didn’t think even Draco would have picked that particular phrase to use. It was a bit endearing to see more of the other boy’s hidden depths. “Yes, it is rather patronising, I’m afraid, but you must bear in mind that the book was written for people such as my son.”

“Irritable, poncy gits?” Harry responded teasingly. “No, I did gather that, Narcissa, but what I’m talking about is the part about ‘recognising the lineages of both sides.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hm,” she vocalised as she gathered her thoughts. “Let me see if I can simplify it for you. The prospective spouse has to be willing to deal with the fact that the bloodlines of any of the parties might be less than satisfactory. In your case, you are a half-blood with a Muggle-born mother but your father is from a very prestigious and long line of purebloods. Or if Miss Weasley was a prospective partner, the fact that her family has a long-standing feud with the Malfoys and that they haven't been the most financially secure would play a part, considering that the Potters, Blacks and Malfoys all have their own funds. Or the fact that they are willing to have less than pureblooded members of their family join, such as Fleur Delacour-Weasley or Hermione, would be another factor. The last thing is that they must realise that both you and my son have ties to the Black line, both as the son of one of the members and the heir appointed by my cousin Sirius. Does that make sense to you?”

“I suppose so,” Harry said as he bit his lower lip. “How important is the bloodline thing though?”

“It is rather important, I’m afraid.” She sighed as she could see his face grow pinched and withdrawn. “You misunderstand me, Harry. What I am saying is that the fact that the prospective spouse acknowledges what amounts to as your personal and family history without complaint is what is important. It isn’t what your lines are, just what the prospective is willing to accept.”

“Oh,” he whispered. His anger deflated almost as quickly as it had come and pronounced his lack of energy even more. Narcissa noted that this was not the first time he had reacted in that particular fashion that day. “So, um, this has happened between our families before, huh? Is that important as well?”

Narcissa could help but smile again at the teen. Really, if my son wasn’t so besotted with him already, I would have to drop a hint in his ear about Harry Potter, now that things between us are better. “Yes, it seems as if the Potters just can’t help but be heroes. My son and husband would do well to remember that this is the second time that the Malfoys have ended up owing a Potter a debt of honour. And it is important, as that means the ties between you and my son run deeper than anyone has previously recognised. It does make it rather important as to how this particular debt is handled, as you both could be seen as members of the same family, though through different branches.”

“Just what I needed. More pressure,” Harry said sadly as he got up and walked out of the room.

Narcissa didn’t say anything about how rude and bad- mannered his behaviour was. For one, she didn’t know if he knew any better, being raised by Muggles. And two, she could tell that he was too distracted to think about such trivial things. She let him go without any fuss. Besides, it was beyond time she checked in with Lucius and Jacobi.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Two hours after he’d begun looking for her, Granger finally returned to the downstairs parlour where they’d had tea and conversation with the Weasleys and Harry. Her head was bent over a book, and she was wiping tears away from her eyes impatiently as she tried to read it. She was sitting at the window seat, muttering under her breath, and Draco was frankly surprised that the girl hadn’t looked up as he entered the room. With a flash of insight, he cast an Eavesdropping Charm and waited.

“Of course he is suffering from depression,” she muttered angrily. “The both of them are, and all this book suggests to do is get them to talk? That will never happen, especially not Ron. He will never agree to talk to anyone about what’s been going on.”

Draco bit back a sigh. Of course Granger is obsessing about how to help her friend and that abominable Weasel. I don’t know why I thought that after everything that had happened between the Golden Trio that I could cut out the redheaded idiot and keep the other two to benefit Mother and me. He scowled as he processed that thought. Not that I want to replace Weasley. No, Malfoys do not stand as replacements for Weasleys, ever.

And if Harry thinks that I am about to assist him in getting some sort of marriage contract with that twat, the Weaslette, he is sorely mistaken. Draco paused as he thought over his last sentence. No, he wouldn’t want her back—even if he decided that he would rather be with someone other than me. He’d rather be with Granger than the Weaslette, I think. He made that rather obvious last night.

Merlin, it was just last night that we talked about all of this. I feel as if months have passed since that conversation over our aborted chess game.

“Are you actually going to enter this room, Malfoy? Or do you plan on standing near the doorway with that little pout on your face?” Granger asked from over the top of her book.

“Malfoys don’t pout,” he said as he walked through the door. “We scowl, sneer, smirk, and, on occasion, smile.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she waved him off impatiently. “So, what’s wrong?”

“Why would you assume that there is something wrong with me, Granger?” Really, she’s far too perceptive for her own good. Sev was right about that.

“Well, there are only two reasons you’d come looking for me: either Harry or you want to talk about him. So, which is it?”

“Neither, actually,” Draco said as he sat down on the seat nearest her. “I need to speak to you about something personal.”

“Oh?” She looked up from her book with wide, brown eyes that made him feel as if he was an interesting Arithmancy problem that she had discovered. “And you thought that I would be the best person to ask? Why?”

I should have known that Granger wasn’t going to make this easy. “Because you have some personal experience with a similar issue—that’s why I’m coming to you. Trust me. I do wish that I could have Severus here to ask, but seeing as how he is dead, you’ll have to do.”

She surprised him by smiling widely. “Well, that’s the most honest you’ve been with me since we’ve known each other, Malfoy,” she said brightly. “So, what is this personal crisis that you require my assistance with?”

“You understand that if you talk to anyone about this–”

“You’ll torture me so badly that it’ll make Bellatrix’s look like tickling?” Merlin damn her, but she was still smiling.

“Yes, quite,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Rest your pretty little head, Malfoy. I have no intention of sharing this conversation with anyone, not even Harry, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Keep a lot of confidences, do you?” he asked, relaxing as he thought about how much she must know about Harry and Weasley and things from the war that no one had really found out from her. “Don’t answer that.” He took a deep breath and decided to just jump into things feet first since he’d already started this conversation. “I have a difficult decision to make, outside of the debt of honour.”

“Can I safely assume that this has something to do with your father?” He nodded. “I thought so, since you mentioned something about me having experience with a similar problem. What is it?”

He opened his mouth and let her know everything.

TBC

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Here But For the Grace of Merlin