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Flesh of My Flesh	By : lashton Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9435 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Legacy of Light
Laurence Ashton
Prologue:
Flesh of My Flesh
Part B

"Draco," said Snape when he came to visit three days later. "Madam Pomfrey feels that you have sufficiently healed to leave the hospital wing."
"I don't want to be in the way of the other teachers," said Draco. Now, only a week to September first and the start of term, Hogwarts was bustling with activity. House Elves were busy rushing from place to place, sprucing up, and especially preparing the dorms for the students' extended stay. Teachers were moving between the library and their private quarters and offices, putting finishing touches on their lesson plans. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, who Draco believed to be in the running for the next Deputy Headmaster for when Dumbledore retired and McGonagall took over, were juggling administrative business and other, personal duties. There was no room for students, especially students suffering from emotional trauma.
"Professor McGonagall suggested that you might feel more comfortable in your dorm." Snape gave Draco a piercing look as he said that. Draco squirmed under his gaze and shrugged. He would be anything but comfortable back in Slytherin dorms. "I have spoken with Headmaster Dumbledore about the circumstances and he has agreed that I may convert the unused study by my quarters into a bedroom for you. You may stay there as long as you like, but you should be aware that there is a conjoining door that leads into my sitting room." Draco was silent for a moment and Snape shifted jerkily. "If I have been too forward � "
"I would like that, Professor," said Draco quietly, "but I don't want to impose upon your space."
"Draco," said Snape, moving closer and leaning slightly over Draco, and running his fingers through Draco's messy hair. "You have been dear to me since we met. I�. I want only to see you smile again."
A pain lanced through Draco's chest and sent a chill throughout him. Tears welled in his eyes, stinging them, and he shut his eyes to keep from sobbing. Snape was close, and warm, and his touch was light and apprehensive, as if he thought he were doing something wrong by reaching out to Draco. Partly to reassure Snape that this was okay, the fatherly affection Snape showed, and partly because he missed the feel of friendly hands, Draco leaned into Snape, resting his head against Snape's chest and clutching at the folds of Snape's black linen robes.
"Sometimes I try to picture my father the way he was before that madness took him and he�. I can see him clearly in my mind, every part of him, perfectly how it was, except now that I am tainted, I can see in my memory that there was always madness in his eyes. He always had that look he gave me when he � when he called me a tease."
Snape's fingers curled into a fist, scrunching Draco's hair and pulling painfully. Yet Draco didn't say anything to his professor, and eventually Snape realized what he was doing and stopped.
"Draco, what your father did, you did not deserve. Do you understand that? You did not ask for that; you did not encourage it. He violated you. He betrayed you. Do not believe that any fault of this is yours."
"It hurts so much. And I want to hate him for it, but I can't and I can only think that I don't hate him because I'm the guilty one. When I was old enough to see � to understand what it meant when he looked at me in such a way, I should have said something, done something. And when he put the wards� When he put the wards on me, I should have expected it."
"What wards?" said Dumbledore, so unexpected and close that both Draco and Snape jerked away from each other in surprise and gawked at him, Snape scowling in disapproval and Draco red-faced with embarrassment.
"Nothing," mumbled Draco, looking anywhere but at the Headmaster.
"Draco, what wards did Lucius put on you?" said the Headmaster again, not unkindly, but so stern that Draco was reminded of standing in his father's den, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, waiting for his father to erupt in a rage and take Draco over his knee. "Tell me."
"Standard protection spells," said Draco. Even as he said so, he grew cold and faint, and nausea thickened in his stomach, curdling the small breakfast he'd managed to keep down.
"I will list them for you later, Headmaster," said Professor Snape, sneering at Dumbledore hatefully. "You need not bother Draco with the details."
"I've come to speak with Madam Pomfrey over medical supplies for the upcoming term," said Dumbledore, giving them both a disarming smile. "Severus, have you had an opportunity to speak with Draco about the matters we discussed?"
"We were just about to go to Draco's room," said Snape tilting his chin and folding his arms over his chest. "Then I had planned to take him to Diagon Alley today. If you'll excuse us, Headmaster, we've a lot to do and little time."
Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as Draco and Snape left the infirmary and started on their way to the dungeons. The halls were mostly empty. It was mid morning and teachers were in their offices or the libraries and house elves were in the dorms. No one was around to eavesdrop, but still, Snape and Draco spoke quietly.
"I have received letters from your father and more besides from your mother," said Snape, carefully phrasing this so as not to jar Draco and put him on edge. "Your father has offered to take up residence in one of the Malfoy estates elsewhere if you would return home to live with your mother. Or, if you should choose, you may take up residence yourself in one of the Malfoy estates and remain unburdened by contact with your parents. Your mother, on the other hand, requests that you reconsider your stance and allow her to take your honor back through your father's life that you may return home to live with her."
"No."
"As I thought. I have already responded to them both saying that you will remain in my care and under my protection and guardianship until such a time as you see fit to do otherwise."
"Professor Snape?"
"I am your mother's greatest friend and your godfather, Draco," said Snape, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Surely you knew that I would provide for you. You could not have thought I'd allow you to fend for yourself."
"I did not know what to think," said Draco, not wanting to add that he'd fret over what he was going to do with himself now that he'd run away from home. "Logic eludes me."
"I shall have you in the same way as you came here, Draco, and do not think to protest or worry over it. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Thank you, Sir."
"Will you not call me 'Uncle' as you used to?"
Draco smiled, although it was brief and solemn, and Snape tried to hide his sorrow behind hooded eyelids. "Yes, Uncle."
"Come now, we've much shopping to do before term starts. We need to get all of your school things and personal affects, and of course, you must visit the tailor and are in need of a haircut. And you must find some new dress robes."
"Dress robes?" said Draco curiously. "For term?"
"Flitwick has grown sick of the drear hanging over this castle and has arranged for a Winter Masquerade�. Which reminds me," he pulled a thick envelope from his pocket and handed it to Draco; it had the Hogwarts seal, "these are your school letters."
Draco tore into the envelope and a gleaming gold badge fell out. It was the Head Boy badge that he'd been determined to have since first year, and he had all but given up on it by sixth. It seemed a certainty that Dumbledore wouldn't stand for Draco to have it and would instead give it to either Potter or Weasley, neither of whom deserved it. Draco traced the rim of it, feeling awed.
"Congratulations are in order," said Snape. Draco looked up at his smirking professor and smiled. "Come now, and tell me what you'd like for it."
"I don't know," said Draco sadly. "Everything seems so� so distorted now."
"Hmm. I think I know what you would like."

Diagon Alley bustled with activity. The summer was drawing to a close and Hogwarts students and parents were roaming about buying all of the supplies needed for the new term, on top of the normal crowd of consumers. Draco watched the haggling through the window of Madam Malkin's as he stood to be fitted for his new wardrobe. He'd already acquired his school uniform and had debated with the seamstress over which dress robes would best suit his pale complexion. Finally Madam Malkin had suggested the ivory and cranberry robes and matching mask to make him a fairy fury and he'd agreed.
The bell over the door rang out as a noisy group of Hogwarts students came into the shop. Draco watched them, hating them for being so loud and cheerful even as he felt every vestige of his own joy slipping through his fingers. That envy swept over him and settled in his stomach as sickness. He winced at the feel of his dizzying nausea and looked at the seamstress pleadingly.
"Five minutes, Mr. Malfoy, and please return promptly. We've still much more to do."
"Yes, thank you," said Draco, hopping off the platform and darting through the store to the backroom where a lavatory was. As he passed Potter, the Weasleys, and Granger, he bumped shoulders with Granger and Weasley sent a train of curses after him.
Draco slammed the door closed behind him and nearly fell over the toilet as he vomited his lunch. He'd managed to eat chicken soup and freshly baked bread before he'd left Hogwarts with Snape, and he was pleased when he seemed to keep it down. Everything seemed to make him feel nauseous lately and the slightest upset could make him sick.
When Draco returned to the front of the shop fifteen minutes later, Madam Malkin ushered him back to his platform with a scowl, placing him next to Potter who was being fitted in black and gold dress robes.
Madam Malkin went back to hemming the trousers that Draco had on, all the while muttering to herself. "I can't believe it," she said, frowning up at him as if he'd committed some grievous sin, "setting fire to your own bedroom."
Draco narrowed his eyes at her, thinking he'd heard wrong, and only stopped himself from blurting out a curse at the last second. "Snape told you that?" he said, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.
"Well, it's not as if you've grown any, squirt," said Potter in a snide way, looking at Draco sideways. Potter had somehow grown five inches during last term and the summer holidays and now stood at a respectably average height whereas Draco's growth seemed permanently stunted. "And what are you doing here with Snape, anyway? Where's your precious daddy?"
For a second, Potter's taunting tone shot through Draco's bloodstream leaving him in a panic. It seemed to him that Potter just knew what had happened to him not yet a week ago and the thought terrified him. But soon after the panic came reason � and the soothing voice of Professor Snape slinking over to them from where he stood in the doorway.
"Madam Malkin, are you nearly finished with Mr. Malfoy? We've much yet to do, still."
Malkin peered at Draco and nodded curtly. "With the measurements, I'll be able to get a proper wardrobe to him within the next few weeks. Until then he'll just have to make do with all the rack fashions. A few quick spells more and he'll be ready to go." She patted Draco's leg. "You can go change back, now, dear."
Draco went back into the changing room and quickly stripped of the new clothes Madam Malkin had selected for him when he'd shown disinterest in his own shopping. A knock came at the door and Snape walked briskly in as Draco was pulling on his own trousers. A small adamantine cage glittered, hanging from a mithril ring in his hand. Inside, coiled around itself, was a shimmering white snake with a dusty golden head and crystal amber eyes.
"Congratulations on a job well done," said Snape, holding the cage out to Draco. Draco took it gingerly and peered down at the serpent with a crooked grin. The snake's long, red tongue flicked towards him and the snake raised its head, eyes flashing silver.
"You've gotten me a Fay," he said, awe struck. "She's beautiful."
"What will you call her?"
"Mirage," said Draco. "For me, she will be where desire and illusion meet."
Swiftly, Draco finished dressing and turned back to the adamantine cage he'd set on the bench. It opened easily at his touch and he reached inside to take Mirage up.
"Careful," said Snape. "Her poison is one of the strongest and swiftest."
"Yes," said Draco as she coiled around his wrist and laid her head upon the back of his hand. She glittered there beautifully, tongue flicking out occasionally, and Draco smiled at her warmly.
He and Snape went back out to the front of the store where Madam Malkin waved her wand at a stack of parcels and they wrapped themselves in brown paper.
"We've still got to get you a broom and some quidditch gear," said Snape. "And then we'll need to stop at Knockturn Alley for other supplies."
"Will this be all?" said Madam Malkin.
"Ah, yes, that'll do it. When may we expect the other packages?"
"Three weeks at the latest."
"All right, then," said Snape. "And when will the costume be ready?"
"I'll try to have that done with the robes, but that requires imported dragon-fire silk, so it may take awhile longer. He'll not need to worry about having it for the winter ball, in any case." Snape nodded and they turned to go. As they left, Draco thought he heard Madam Malkin add 'no more fires, young man,' but he wouldn't give her a response.
They made their way down the busy lane to Quality Quidditch Supplies and Snape bought Draco the latest professional racing broom model � the Lightening Quicksilver (LQ), made by the makers of the Firebolt, and which hefted a heavy price tag � and pads, polish, riding cloak, and broom-care kit. Draco wondered if Snape were still trying to cheer him up by lavishing him with expensive gifts � a trick that had worked for his father in the past. Perhaps it was this very connection to his father that prevented Draco from even pretending preoccupation, let alone joviality. Or, perhaps it was simply that such a trauma as Draco had experienced made other things seem trivial in comparison.
On the way to Knockturn Alley, they ran into Draco's father, who had been coming out of his solicitor's offices. The sight of Lucius on the street in front of him, staring unblinking at Draco with thickening guilt, made Draco's blood run cold. Lucius took a step towards him, as if drawn by Draco's soul-shattering fear, and Draco, struck by blinding panic, turned and fled down the street.
He ran blindly and swift, until he could no longer hear Professor Snape worriedly calling his name, and he smacked painfully into someone. They both tumbled awkwardly to the ground, and that's when the rolling nausea slammed through him. He barely had time to disentangle himself from the stranger and crawl away a few inches from the person's head before he vomited all over the street.
"Oh gross!" said someone above Draco, sounding as if he were gagging in disgust, but whoever Draco had bowled over didn't say anything as he scrambled up and supported Draco awkwardly as he shook with violent wave after wave of sickness.
When Draco's illness subsided and he was only dry-heaving, the person rolled Draco over slightly and pulled him into a sitting position. Draco stared at them, wondering for a moment why his vision was blurry until he realized that he was crying. Humiliated, Draco wiped his tears away with his fist, leaving burning trails across his cheeks and blinked at the person he'd run into: Harry Potter of all people.
"Are you okay, Malfoy?" said Potter, looking as if he was confused why he bothered asking.
"I'm fine," said Draco, trying to sound cold and unfazed, but his voice was raspy and shaking and Draco could feel his eyes welling with tears again. Before Potter had a chance to respond, Professor Snape pounded down the road, breathless, shoving people out of the way. Following close behind was Lucius, eyes wide and wild, wand already out. Draco bit his lip to hold back a shriek. He tasted blood.
"Draco, are you all right � what's wrong � are you hurt?" said Lucius all in one breath, reaching out to Draco. Draco scrambled back, behind Potter who looked on Lucius with part loathing and part confusion, trying to get out of his father's reach.
"There, now, you've seen he's fine, so go!" said Snape, giving Lucius a shove back in the direction he'd come. Lucius stumbled, looked askance at Snape, then gave Draco a strange look before turning sharply on his heel and stalking away. It was a few seconds before Draco remembered to breathe again.
"What," said Potter, standing up and dusting off his too large trousers, "was that all about?"
Snape pushed past Potter, giving him a sneer, and hefted Draco up by the arms. Draco remained pliant as Snape wiped the dirt from his trouser legs and cast a refreshing charm on him. Draco's heartbeat was still irregularly pounding through his chest and it took all of his concentration to breathe deeply enough.
"Come," said Snape, taking Draco's arm and grabbing Potter by the scruff of his neck. "We've got to get back."

"Hogwarts, Slytherin Quarters, Potions Master," said Snape, tossing Floo Powder onto the fire. Then he shoved Potter through, who stumbled and disappeared in the flames with a puff of green. Draco followed after, then Snape, and they found Potter sprawled, dazed, on the floor of Professor Snape's sitting room. "Get up, Potter." Snape sneered. Potter scowled. Draco beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom and conjoined bath.
Once alone, Draco took a shuddered breath and closed his eyes, leaning against the door. Pictures of his father, looking frantic and guilt-ridden assaulted his mind, and he tried violently to block them out. He did not want to remember his father, and especially not his father's eyes, which even through the guilt held the same madness held at bay for years and let slip far too recently.
"You can do this," whispered Draco to himself. Something squeezed his wrist and he looked down in surprise to see Mirage, still coiled around him, watching him with intelligent amber eyes. "Yes, my sweet," he said to her, letting the fingers of his left hand ghost across her back. A shiver went down her back.
Draco hurried into the bathroom and drew a bath for himself. He made the water so hot steam rose off the surface and filled the tub with bubbles and bath salt. He soaked and relaxed for awhile and scrubbed himself clean. As the water was cooling to room temperature, Draco got out, dried off, and towel dried his hair. He brushed his teeth and scrubbed at his eyes when he saw that they were red once more � had he been crying? When he went back into his bedroom, he saw that Snape had stacked all of his packages in one corner and Draco shuffled through them until he found some low-slung, lace-up navy trousers and a pull-over white shirt with blue laces that he left loose.
He gawked in surprise when he returned to the sitting room and found Snape and Potter sitting over tea, scowling at each other. "What are you still doing here?"
"Waiting for you," mumbled Potter unhappily. "You certainly took your bloody time about getting in here, didn't you?" Around Draco's wrist, Mirage hissed. Potter blinked at her and hissed back. Mirage hissed again and Potter gave Draco a strange look before taking a long drink from his teacup.
"Are you feeling better?" said Snape.
"Yes, much," answered Draco, lying through his teeth. He didn't look Snape in the eye. "If you� Am I needed here?"
Snape gave Draco a measuring glance and shook his head. "Are you well?"
"Just tired," said Draco and quickly left before Snape could say anything more. He closed the door behind him and warded it heavily before lying down. He fell asleep in minutes.
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Flesh of My Flesh