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

Chapter List
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6th January 1985: Morning

Harry quickly blew out long, soft breaths onto the piece of parchment on the desk in his father's bedroom to dry the ink as he simultaneously tied a light blue cotton sash securely around his waist and over the heavy but simple white hooded robe he wore, all the time also trying to toe a brown boot onto his right foot as well. Underneath his robe he wore a light pair of blue cotton trousers, a slightly darker shade than that of his sash, with a matching cotton long-sleeved shirt which had a high, stiff collar, the edge of which rested just underneath his chin. It was his school uniform and it was to his school that he was currently in the process of getting ready to head off to.

The school was named the Saint Gwenifwar School for Havanist Youth. It was a religious school for the Elvish religion Havanism. The only reason that Harry had originally attended the it was because it was the only boarding school his father could afford. Being a teacher, Severus could hardly afford a private tutor and he had no time to tutor his son himself. Lucius had offered to pay for Harry's education but Severus had declined the generous offer; he felt he had already imposed on the family's kindness enough during the first few years of his son's life.

Now, two and a half years later, Harry was beyond happy that his father had insisted on being so stubborn. Despite the fact he missed his father and his family desperately while he was away, he loved his friends there, he loved the environment and he loved his religion. Religion was a rare thing in the Wizarding world, in fact he was the only student at his school who did not have Elvish blood in him, and it confused the young boy greatly. If all religion was as wonderful as his, why were there not more people who openly committed to one?

A sudden knock at the door in the sitting room came and Harry gave a small sigh of annoyance. Finished with his sash, he quickly yanked on his second boot before dashing out into the sitting room, over to the door which led out of his father's rooms. He opened it quickly, knowing exactly who it would be before dashing back into his father's bedroom without even properly greeting the one who had knocked.

"Almost ready, Harry?" The voice of Professor Dumbledore came from the sitting room as Harry grabbed the letter he had just written from off of the desk.

"Yes Headmaster, I just have to leave this letter for father then tie my laces and I'll be ready." The small boy called as he rested the piece of parchment on his father's pillow.

It was a tradition he had as a way of saying goodbye to his father. The dark man would never actually say goodbye to him, instead avoiding him all morning until Harry left. Harry left a note on his father's pillow to say goodbye and to promise to come back soon. It was never mentioned between them and Harry never felt any desire to bring it up. True, he was confused as to why his father insisted he be sent away to boarding school when it was obvious the man hated to see him go, but he never questioned the older man on it; he would most likely not get a decent answer even if he did.

Satisfied with the placement of the letter, Harry hurried back out of the room, finding Professor Dumbledore standing near the door he had entered from, waiting patiently for him. The boy paused in the middle of the room and bent over to tie the laces of his boots with practiced speed. Soon, with both boots securely fastened, he moved swiftly over to Professor Dumbledore and gave him a small, breathless smile as he tried to catch his breath from hurrying around so much for so long.

"Done?" The old man checked cheerfully.

"Yes Headmaster." Harry confirmed politely, his smile becoming a little less breathless and more certain.

"Good, let's be off then." Dumbledore smiled, opening the door and ushering the young boy out with a gentle hand on his back, just below his neck.

The two wizards left the room in a companionable silence which remained as they continued on their way out of the school. As they moved through various corridors, several passing students, who had already returned from the Christmas break, called goodbye to Harry who would reply enthustiasticaly with a happy wave and a promise to see them again soon, in a few months. That continued all the way until he and Dumbledore were outside and had reached the wyvern-led carriage which had been sent to fly them to Saint Gwenifwar's. It all ended with a happy goodbye to Hagrid which involved a rather suffocating bear hug.

Harry was helped into the carriage by Hagrid once their goodbye had finished and Dumbledore quickly followed him in. The door shut automatically behind them and the moment they were both settled sufficiently, the wyverns took off without instruction, trained to do a job such as this specifically so they could do it all on their own innitiative. Wyverns were smart creatures after all, much smarter than many people gave them credit for, and were the main transportation method of most Havanists as they were thought to be the same creature that led their goddess' carriage.

Bright green eyes watched out of the window as the ground beneath the carriage began to fall away as they rose, details below becoming gradually less clear. When even the sight of Hogwarts itself had faded, Harry pulled away from the window and shifted back into his seat properly, adjusting his robes when they bunched around him a little.

"Excited about going back to school Harry?" Dumbledore inquired a few seconds later, sounding nothing but curious.

Harry nodded enthustiasticaly. "Yes sir, I always like going back to school and seeing all my friends again and the Elvish world is so different from the Wizarding world. It's a nice change. And it's nice to be around people who believe the same things you do."

"Indeed it is. How are your studies coming along?"

"Quite well I think. I'm struggling a little in Elvish Language but everything else is going fine. High Priest Sephiran says I'm the most gifted Apprentice he's had in many years. He's surprised the Goddess didn't choose me to be one of her Warriors or a Mage as he thinks someone with my talent would be extremely powerful. Plus the fact I'm the only male Apprentice to be chosen for the last couple of decades doesn't make it any more explainable." The young boy mused thoughtfully as he looked up at the ceiling of the carriage.

"Are you disappointed that you were chosen to become an Apprentice?"

"No, I'm glad that I'll become a Priest one day. Hurting other people, no matter what the situation...I don't think it's something I'd ever be able to do. The first thing you have to do when you're chosen to be an Apprentice is take the Vow of Pacifism." He explained as if the wise old man did not know. "I can understand why not everyone can take it, societies need some form of defense after all, but I'm glad that I'm one who has taken it."

"You do realise that when you come to Hogwarts as a student, you will be required to take Defense Against the Dark Arts and learn how to defend yourself from an attack?"

"I know and I think the Great Lady will understand that it's something I have to learn. I won't have to actually attack anyone though, will I?"

"Not anyone who is not expecting the attack or more than capable of defending themselves."

"I suppose that will be all right...I'll have to ask High Priest Sephiran about it. I shouldn't think there will be any problem with it. After all, High Priests and High Priestesses can use Calim(1) magic and swords for their own protection and the protection of those around them so there must be certain exceptions to the Vow of Pacifism."

"It is a sad reality that total pacifism can never truly exist." Dumbledore sighed sadly, looking down at his own lap. "A wise Muggle once said that it is an unfortunate fact that we can secure our peace only by preparing for war."

"Is that what the Dark Lord is doing?" Harry asked innocently, looking up at the older wizard beside him.

Dumbledore remained silent for several moments, thinking of a way to answer without hinting in the least of the knowledge he possessed and to also not frighten or worry Harry. Despite how mature the boy seemed, he was still only seven years old and he also had a father who was a loyal follower of the Dark Lord in question. Eventually, the headmaster turned to look at the boy beside him, looking serious and sombre. "We are the ones who are fighting to secure our peace, not Voldemort."

"Voldemort?" Harry repeated, testing the sound of the word in his own voice. "Is that his name?"

"Yes, that is what he is called by those who do not fear him."

"The papers just always call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." The boy remembered, sounding questioning despite the fact what he said was not a question of any sort.

"Because he and his followers have created a fear of the name to simply increase the fear they feel for him as a person."

Harry looked a little lost at that comment and he turned his face away from the older wizard then, going back to look out of the window. After a short silence he spoke quietly, in barely above a whisper. "I think my father's afraid of him."

For some reason, be it the words themselves or the sad, resigned tone in which they were spoken, hearing that sent a wave of sadness and regret washing through Dumbledore. He said nothing in reply, there was nothing he could say. So they both remained silent for the remainder of the journey.

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6th January 1985: Midday

The moment that the carriage touched down outside of Saint Gwenifwar's, Harry was on his feet and practically jumping out of the door. Dumbledore followed him out in a more sedate manner but seemed to enjoy seeing his young companion so enthusiastic about returning.

The actual school building was almost completely hidden from view as not only were the grounds surrounded completely by trees and shrubbery, the entire building was covered in vines of climbing ivy. Not a single patch of brick was visible and the dozens of bare windows were not enough to give the structure away. It was perfectly camouflaged. The building was three stories high; the bottom floor containing the Dining Hall, the Dueling Hall and a few classrooms; the first floor housed the rest of the classrooms and the teachers' rooms; the top floor was where the student dormatries and the bathroom facilities were. Compared to the size of most schools, Saint Gwenifwar's was a very small building but it had a small population to fit it: around seventy pupils ranging from five to eleven years old and six teachers, including the headmaster.

Harry sucked in a deep breath of the clean, forest air as he looked around the small clearing which was hidden several metres away from the school. Knowing where to look and what to look for, he could easily spot where the school was through the gaps in between some of the trees and he felt a small swell of excitement at finally being back. It was while he was gazing over at the school, waiting for Professor Dumbledore to catch him up, that he noticed someone walking towards them. He turned his gaze onto the figure and quickly recognised it as one of his favourite people in the world.

"High Priest Sephiran!" He called excitedly, waving over to the approaching man.

High Priest Sephiran was a beautiful man who appeared to be in his late-thirties and it was him who was the Headmaster of Saint Gwenifwar's. He had long black hair, allowed to fall down his back completely loose, which actually touched the floor as, in keeping with the religious laws of Priests, he had not cut it since he had finished his apprenticeship and become a fully fledged Priest; at the sides of his head, his long, pointed ears just poked out from underneath the thick black curtain of hair. His skin was pale as was the skin of most Elves and his eyes were a gorgeous shade of dark, sparkling blue. Harry had never seen him wear anything but the robes of a High Priest: long, pure white robes, which appeared to be rather heavy though the man never seemed bothered by them, and that spilled out across the floor but never seemed to get dirty, the upper half loose fitting across his chest with long sleeves which flared out slightly at the cuffs and the collar was stiff and touching the base of his neck; a long, shimmering silver sash, which hung inches above the ground, was tied around his middle, emphasising his slim waist; around his shoulders was a heavy hooded cloak, also white, with a lining of silver satin. His feet, on the rare occassions that they were spotted, were completely bare.

"Welcome back, Young Haryon." The man greeted him with a smile, placing his hand on top of Harry's head gently when he reached the small boy. Harry bowed his head in reply to the religious gesture just as he was meant to and he did not lift it again until the warm hand had moved to his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the gentle man smiling down at him. "I trust you had a pleasant Nirhy(2)?"

"Yes, thank you High Priest. How was yours?"

"It was quite enjoyable." The man revealed just before his eyes flickered up to look over the top of Harry. "Ah, Albus, it's good to see you again." He greeted Professor Dumbledore as the elderly wizard finally approached them, having held back to observe how the youth interacted with the other man.

"Indeed it is, Sephiran." Dumbledore agreed, taking the Elf's hand in a warm shake. "Thank you for the invitation to join you this afternoon."

"You know each other?" Harry interrupted, forgetting his manners briefly. He quickly remembered them again however and blushed slightly at his rudeness. Neither man seemed to mind though and both continued to smile down at him in their own ways.

"Oh yes, Professor Dumbledore and I have been friends for a very long time. Haryon," the High Priest said, looking back down at his Apprentice, "why don't you go inside and get settled in again? The majority of the students have already returned."

Upon hearing that piece of information, Harry's eyes lit up and he instantly dashed off towards the school, eager to see his friends once again. As he rushed off, he missed seeing the smiles fade from the faces of the older men only to be replaced with expressions of concern and worry.

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6th January 1985: Evening

Dinner had been served, a prayer of thanks had been spoken by all and now a low hum of chatter filled the Dining Hall which was filled with every student who attended the school as well as the six teachers who sat at the head of the hall on a long table which stretched from one wall to the other. In that respect the layout was much like the Hogwarts dining hall. The students' tables were very different though. They were small circular tables, each surrounded by five or six children, with just enough space seperating them all to allow easy movement in between each. The walls were just as outside, covered in hundreds of long vines of ivy. The ceiling was covered in glowing white flowers which effectively lit the hall, small orbs of light showering down from them but disappearing before they came anywhere near to touching any of the occupants below.

Harry sat at a table near to the left hand side of the hall with five other people: a girl his age with short silver-blonde hair and wearing the same robes as he was; another girl his age with long golden-blonde hair wearing robes which were similar but coloured black with a yellow sash around her waist; a boy his age with long jet black hair and wearing the same black robes and yellow sash; a boy who was a little older than all of them with short dark auburn hair and wearing a rusty red tunic over a long sleeved white shirt; and finally, one last boy with short golden-blond hair who was also slightly older than most of them and also wearing a tunic over a long sleeved white shirt, though his tunic was a deep royal blue.

"Did your parents get you that pegasus you wanted for Nirhy, Serenity?" The silver-blonde haired girl asked the golden-blonde haired girl who sat opposite Harry.

"No, they got me a kitten instead." The girl, Serenity, muttered, sounding incredibly put out as she poked at the pile of spinach on her plate dejectedly.

"You didn't really expect Mum and Dad to buy you a pegasus at your age did you?" The older golden-haired boy asked, sounding amused with the concept. "You're seven years old..."

"Excuse me but I turned eight yesterday for your big fat information!" Serenity interrupted indignantly, scowling at the boy who was her older brother.

"That's still not old enough to own a pegasus." The long, black haired boy contributed, his tone possessing a serious quality which was beyond his years.

"Oh what does a stupid half-breed like you know?" The girl spat out angrily.

"Serenity!" Her older brother scolded her instantly, frowning at her along with everyone else at the table except for the boy who the insult was directed at; he merely appeared uninterested. "Mum and Dad have taught you better than that, now apologise to Rhys right now."

"Sorry Rhys." Serenity mumbled, sounding suitably ashamed of her little out-burst.

"Why apologise for for simply telling the truth?" Rhys asked neutrally.

"Oh Rhys, it's not true." Harry assured him, giving the sombre youth's shoulder a few comforting pats.

"Of course it is. My mother's a witch and my father is an elf, that makes me a half-breed."

"Can you not use that term please?" The silver-haired girl asked quietly, keeping her eyes on her dinner.

"If you wish." Rhys replied simply before taking a bite of his bread.

An uncomfortable quiet took over the table at that as none of the children knew what to say next. They all sat there awkwardly, except for Rhys, for several minutes before Harry cracked and semi-silence: "Draco got a kitten over Nirhy."

"A present from his parents?" The older, golden-blond haired boy inquired, latching on to the conversation starter and continuing it in an attempt tp break the tension.

"No, they found the poor thing abandoned in an alleyway so they decided to take her in."

"A creature truly blessed by the Goddess then." The silver-blonde haired girl said with a smile before turning that smile on Harry. "Just like you, Haryon."

Harry blushed at those words and looked down at the edge of the table shyly. "Don't be silly, Marcia, I'm no more blessed than anyone else here."

The girl, who sat next to him, only smiled a little brighter and leaned in closer to him so she could whisper in his ear. "Anyone who has ever had the honour to speak to you would instantly realise that that's not true." And with that, she pulled away and turned her attention to the conversation which had started between the two older boys at their table, leaving Harry to ponder over her words.

Dinner had just ended and students were starting to filter out of the Dining Hall, heading towards their dorm rooms in order to prepare for bed. The group of friends at Harry's table had to split in their own directions so they could each go to their own rooms. Harry, Marcia and Rhys turned to the left once they left the hall, calling goodbyes to their other friends, who were turning left or carrying on straight ahead, as they went until they were all out of sight. It was only then that they turned around to walk down the corridor properly, talking about trivial things between the three of them.

They had not been walking for very long before a shout of someone calling "Wizard!" reached them. Each child recognised the voice immediately and all thought much the same thing:

"Oh no." Marcia groaned nervously, voicing the thoughts of her two friends.

"Just ignore him." Harry advised quietly as they continued to walk down the corridor.

However, several sets of running footsteps then rapidly approached them and seconds later a hand had grabbed Harry's arm and swung him around to face a slightly taller boy with shoulder-length brown hair who was their age wearing a grey tunic. Behind the boy were a couple of other boys, both wearing matching tunics and also slightly taller than Harry and his two friends. "Oi Wizard, I was calling you." The boy who had a hold of Harry's arm said in a nasty tone.

"I know you were."

"Then why didn't you stop?"

"Because I have no desire to talk to you; good night." Harry explained before trying to pull out of the boy's grasp. The grip on his arm only tightened though and he found himself unable to fully pull away. He turned to look back at the three boys, making sure to keep his expression calm and serene.

"Wait a minute Wizard, I've got something to ask you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering if you had fun celebrating, what do you Wizards call it? Christmas?" The boy sneered causing the two boys behind him to snicker, obviously finding this all terribly amusing.

"Why do you care?" Rhys interrupted, forcing himself in between Harry and the other boy, making sure the grip on Harry's arm was broken.

"Go away Elkwood, leave Haryon alone." Marcia insisted, sounding more than a little afraid and keeping very close to her two friends but looking determined not to be compeltely intimidated.

"Why should I leave him alone?" The boy, Elkwood, challenged with a frown. "He's the only Wizard here; if he wanted to blend in with everyone else then he should've stayed with his own kind. But then again, you must be a freak even amoung your own kind, Snape: don't know where you were born or who your real parents are; you have an Elvish name(3) even though you're not one of us..."

"You know Haryon is named in honour of his late grandmother. For you to critisise such a practice is an insult to not only Haryon but his departed..." Rhys began to reply, sounding the most annoyed so far.

"...And your whole family's full of murdering scum."

"How dare you!" Rhys gasped angrily at that, starting forwards, towards the other boy.

"No Rhys, don't!" Harry cried as both he and Marcia grabbed onto an arm each in order to stop the boy from going any further.

"He's insulted both you and your family, Haryon! You may be a pacifist but I'm not and I have nothing against casting a spell or two to teach him a lesson." The long haired boy replied in a hiss, trying to pull away and keeping his voice down so he could not be so easily heard by the three larger boys.

"He's not worth it." Harry insisted, pulling his friend back again. "He's just a bully and our Great Lady creates bullies so that the strong may grow stronger. We don't have to sink to his level; we're better than that. He's stupid and he's only showing just how stupid he is by saying such things. We shouldn't hate him, we should feel sorry for him."

Rhys glared at Elkwood silently for several more moments before he relaxed his tensed muscles and took a step backwards. "I don't agree with the feeling sorry for him part but I'll admit that he's not worth the time." He conceded, loud enough for the three boys to hear him loud and clear, as he, Harry and Marcia turned to carry on down the corridor.

"What was that you dirty little half..." The boy started to yell after them.

"Master Elkwood!" The angry voice of a teacher suddenly came from behind them all and Harry and his two friends shared triumphant smiles as they continued the rest of the way to their dorm rooms in peace.

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6th January 1985: Night

Darkness, all around. Somewhere cold; cold air, cold ground. Enclosed, not in bindings but within a circle of people; people wearing cloaks of black and masks on their faces. Pain, so much pain, crippling, unable to move. Fear, fear of the situation, fear of death, fear for family.

It was all confused, He couldn't make anything out properly. He knew who it was He was seeing but it made little sense. Was this a dream? Was He even asleep? He could not remember. He was too afraid; afraid of what all this meant, afraid of what would happen if what He was seeing was true.

Dejection, acceptance, reluctant fear which was stubbornly cast aside. An anger; intense anger and hatred directed to the owner of the voice who hissed viciously: "Veela blood makes you just as dirty as a mudblood."

Seconds dragged by like hours as muscles moved on their own. Hands left the floor, the back was straightened out. A beautiful face, though stained by dirt and blood, glared defiantly up at cold red snake-eyes which stared down in contempt. The point of a wand jabbed at the pale cheek, pressing in harshly, creating a deep indentation. And then the anticipation, the knowing of what was to come, the acceptance...

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Aunt Narcissa!"

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(1) Calim: Based on LotR Elvish for Light

(2) Nirhy: Havanist version of Christmas where they celebrate the defeat of evil and the official birth of their Goddess.

(3) Haryon: Based on LotR Elvish for Prince
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Family Means More Than Blood