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Survivor's Guilt	By : SpeedyTomato Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Lucius Views: 34080 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make any money of this dark dance of Harry Potter fanfic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2

Beta'd by the amazing Tenchi. Thanks, Tenchi, you're the best!

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Standing at the window in his therapist's office on the top floor of St. Mungos, Lucius was looking out at the Muggles walking back and forth on the street with his hands locked behind his back. Honestly, not much had been said in the 10 minutes he had been there but that was normal. It usually took him that long to deal with the fact that he had to be here to start with and was required to leave his cane, since it contained his wand, by the door. That was, from what he was told, a standard rule for such sessions, well, any sessions with therapists here. He didn't like it but was learning to deal with it. It just didn't feel right to not have it next to him at all times was all. That was such an ingrained habit from years past that even with all the time he spent in Azkaban it was something he couldn't break. Now, well, it was almost a survival skill. People were less apt to try anything foolish if he had it with him at all times, something he counted on to keep them from pressing an issue with him.

“You're troubled by something, Lucius. What is it?” A soft voice from behind him asked.

With an internal sigh, the blond turned around to face his therapist then answered, tone as smooth as always, “Who said I was troubled? Other than by being here, that is.”

Smiling a little, Roddy nodded, “I know that being here troubles you, it always has. Especially that it's mandated. I do believe, though, something troubles you beyond that, Lucius. What is it that is causing this pensive state?”

Knowing that was his cue to sit down so they could begin, Lucius walked over and seated himself primly in the chair facing the younger man, trying not to sneer at what he knew was coming. Having dealt with the ignominy of these sessions since getting out, he knew what to expect and still didn't like it but would deal. Settling back, he said, tone even, “It has nothing to do with what I'm here to talk with you about.”

“We are here to talk about whatever you want to discuss, Lucius. Yes, part of it is to deal with your crimes and make sure you don't repeat them, but anything that troubles you is up for discussion,” Roddy told him.

Knowing that was telling him Dr. Netherwood wasn't going to let it go, Lucius gave an internal shake of his head. Though, on the upside, if he did discuss what was niggling at him that meant he wouldn't have to delve into some of the more painful topics that they often had to work with. For him, it was something he was more than willing to trade off for.

Mind made up, he settled back then crossed his legs, making sure his robes were smoothed down, he started, “In the last week I've had an opportunity to observe someone I was acquainted with during the war.” That's where he stopped, unsure how to continue on.

Setting aside the parchment and self-writing quill on the low table by his chair, ensuring the quill was activated, Roddy settled back and looked at his client then asked, quietly, “Was he on the opposite side or the one you were on?”

“Opposite side,” Lucius told him, glancing away, trying to keep the sour look off his face as he thought over some of the encounters in the past with Potter. Most of them weren't good but it also served to reenforce what he already knew by this time; that, all along, he had been on the wrong side of things and had made disastrous choices that affected not only himself but his family as well. All of them were still paying for them as a matter of fact. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Like everything else, details of what I say stays just between us, yes?”

“As I've told you before, other than reports on your progress, nothing you say to me goes beyond this office, Lucius. The only exceptions are if you confess to a current crime or are a danger to others. All else stays here.”

Nodding, reassured to hear that once again, Lucius looked down, not sure what to say as he wasn't even sure what it was about Potter that bothered him or kept him going back to that pub every night for the last week to observe him and his cousin.

“Was it someone you were well acquainted with, Lucius?” Roddy asked, trying to nudge his client into talking more.

“I think everyone was 'acquainted' with him,” Lucius snorted, an ironic grin turning up the corners of his mouth. “It was Harry Potter.”

Though startled to hear that name, Roddy didn't let it show then asked, “Did you talk to him or was it just an observation?”

“I just watched his interaction with his cousin over the last week,” Lucius admitted. Knowing that didn't sound good, he explained, “I first saw them at a pub I go to after these sessions. Admittedly, I was curious since there seemed to be something wrong so I kept going back.” Stopping, the blond looked at the floor then said, slowly, “One would think that Potter would have it made after all that happened. I mean, he was, well, still is to an extent, the big hero and can do no wrong in anyone's eyes anymore. He sacrificed everything and even gave his life for the cause. But he didn't seem happy at all. From what I overheard and observed, he drinks far more than he should. Before you say it, I think most of us that went through that tend to drink more than we used to but this was well beyond that. Each night he seemed to end up in various stages of inebriation.” Stopping, Lucius' brow furrowed slightly as he tried to think how to put something that he only had a vague, disturbing feeling about. Even that part confused him since he shouldn't be at all disturbed by anything to do with Potter considering all the problems the brat had caused him, and his family, in the past.

“War is war, Lucius. Even if you're on the winning side, you go through hell.” Roddy observed softly. “If I remember what I read right, Harry Potter lost almost everything due to what happened. From his parents, to those he considered family and dear friends. He wouldn't have come out of it unscathed with no problems after that kind of hit. There is also the fact that he was forced to end the life of someone. No matter how much it's deserved or if it's the only way for you survive, the taking of a life is something that affects you greatly,” the younger man told the blond softly.

“I keep forgetting you weren't around for it,” Lucius observed quietly, looking away, pondering what was just said somewhat.

“No, I wasn't. I was still across the pond studying for my degree,” Roddy nodded. “Though I heard enough to know that it wasn't a pleasant time here. But I will admit that most of my information comes from news accounts, books that were written about it and second hand information. Some things I believe more than others.”

Nodding, accepting that, Lucius sighed, “I would have thought, though he lost so much, that the Golden Boy would have put it behind him like the good hero he was and moved on. But he doesn't appear to have done that. I heard, through Draco, as well as a few others, that he and the Weasley chit had split up a while after things ended but I assumed he would have found someone else since then. After all, it isn't as though he would be lacking for applicants. It doesn't look like he has though. From the sound of things, the only beings in his life are his cousin and a few friends.”

“It's not that easy, Lucius,” Roddy told him gently. “Have you moved on from the loss of Narcissa yet? Or does that still sting?” This was a tactical move on his part as he knew that the death of his wife was something that Lucius didn't want to talk about much and still bothered him for many reasons.

Unable to stop himself, Lucius winced at that. “No, I haven't.” He said honestly. “But Potter didn't have the same kind of relationship with any of those in his life as I did with my wife. Nor the years to develop the deep feelings.”

“That doesn't make it hurt less, Lucius. Nor did he have the chance to have that. He Who Must Not Be Named robbed Mr. Potter of his parents then his followers stole from him a great many he cared about and considered family before he could even start to develop such things. His godfather, Sirius Black, I believe was his name, was killed. His father's other best friend, Remus Lupin, died in the Final Battle along with his wife as well as countless others Mr. Potter probably knew and cared about. That is a lot of hurt to deal with even if the relationships weren't ones that spanned decades. From my understanding, the only family he has is an aunt, uncle and cousin.”

“And, from the sound of what I heard, they didn't treat him well,” Lucius murmured, looking down while he absorbed what was said. Really, he hadn't thought about things from Potter's point of view. He had always seen him as something of a clone of James, one that could roll with the punches and shrug off whatever, not taking it to heart. But the young man he had observed in the pub night after night wasn't that way. There was something in him that troubled Lucius, he just didn't know what it was.

“Oh?” Roddy inquired, eyebrow raised. Though, honestly, he had no interest in gossip about Harry Potter, there was something about this that was troubling his client. Though Lucius was here by court mandate, that didn't mean that he wasn't a client like anyone else that walked through the door and would be treated as such.

Briefly, the elder Malfoy gave a rundown of what he had overheard on that topic then sat there, quiet, not sure what to say, before finally, mumbling, “I don't think any of us, save Dumbledore, knew about such things. We all assumed that he was a pampered prince like he would have been if he had been raised in our world.”

Nodding, the therapist observed his client quietly, waiting to see if he was going to go on or not. There was, obviously, something bothering him about these encounters and it needed to be discussed to find out what it might be or was related to. But Lucius wasn't one to do that and tended to need some nudging that direction.

Sighing aloud, Lucius shook his head, “I don't know... I just... it makes everything I thought about him seem wrong. I always saw him as a cocky brat full of his own self glory. This proves that it might have been something else I saw and misinterpreted.”

“Mr. Potter is the same age as your son, is he not?” When he saw Lucius nod, he gave an ironic smile then inquired, “When it comes to pre-teens and teens, from your experience, are things as easily interpreted by what you see or are they a cauldron of mixed emotions and behavior that is hard to understand at times?”

Unable to stop himself, Lucius snorted then a small smile slid across his face when he remembered Draco and his friends when they were young. “No, it's not that easy to figure out what they are doing and why. And, very rarely is it what it appears on the surface.” Sobering up, he said, “Why didn't I see that in Potter?”

“Because you were blinded like so many others by what you wanted to see?” Roddy prodded.

Nodding ruefully, Lucius said nothing, glancing away and out the window as he thought over what was said.

Figuring the past wasn't where the issue came from, though there were probably some things that did bother his client about it, Roddy decided to steer the conversation back to the area where he thought the issue might be. Poking Lucius like he did most of his clients to get them to talk didn't usually work so he was going to try for something else. “Have you ever heard of the concept of Survivor's Guilt?”

Turning back to look at his therapist, Lucius shook his head then waited.

“It's a concept of something that people first noticed after Muggle World War II with the concentration camp survivors. You've heard of that, haven't you?” When he saw the blond nod, he pressed onwards, “It's about the guilt they felt for surviving what they did when so many others didn't. They noticed a good many felt that way and suffered for the rest of their lives, in some cases, because they managed to get out when many they knew or their families, didn't. It happens to many in times of war and other situations, such as major disasters. It's possible that Mr. Potter is suffering from something like that. After all, so many died, including his parents, trying to protect him over the years and in a war a madman fought to get to him.”

Looking at him strangely, Lucius thought that over but said nothing, pondering if that could be the case but wasn't sure as he didn't know anything about this so-called guilt.

“It has a wide variety of symptoms from nightmares, anxiety, flashbacks and goes all the way up to depression that has led to suicide over it. The drinking can figure into that. Though I don't know Mr. Potter and am not making a diagnosis of any kind, I just want to toss that out there so you realize that he may well be dealing with things on his end you know nothing about. Because, realistically, you can't ever know what is going on in another person's mind, Lucius. And what shows on the surface isn't always what someone is feeling underneath. I see many people that were in the war that aren't here by court mandate. They were on the winning side but saw or experienced things to cause them a great deal of trauma. I don't mean they were tortured or anything like that either. They were just participants is all, nothing more.” Leaning back, Roddy waited for the reaction.

Brow wrinkling as he pondered what was said, Lucius' gut clenched at the mention of suicide and depression. That was, above all things anymore, the touchiest subject in the world with him since Narcissa had chosen to exit the world that way. He had still been in Azkaban at the time but both her and Draco had served their sentences so they were out. But, from what he learned from his son as well as a letter she had left for him, she just couldn't handle the guilt over what they had done and how it had affected all of them, so one day she had brewed a lethal potion then took it. When he heard, he had been devastated. Nor had he even considered that she would do something like that. She was always a strong woman, someone that could roll with anything thrown her way then deal with it with the dignity that would befit someone from the most noble house of Black. But she hadn't been able to handle all that had happened and chose to take what he considered the easy way out. He was both hurt and angry with her over it still though it had been a few years now. Since getting out, he had spent a great deal of time trying to figure out why she had done it beyond the reasons he knew. The Narcissa he had known and loved wouldn't have even considered such a thing.

Watching his client, Roddy was pleased. This is what he wanted, to give him an opening. Gently, he asked, “Why is it, do you think, Mr. Potter's behavior is bothering you? What is it that has drawn you in?”

Before he could even think about it, Lucius admitted, “I don't know. It was, at first, the 'how the mighty have fallen' thing I think but now... I just don't know why. Something about the situation is bothering me but I don't understand or get what it might be. But something is nudging me about it and sending warning signals. I just...” Trailing off, he shrugged then looked at the younger man.

Nodding, understand that, the councilor said, quietly, “You aren't following him or anything like that? Nothing that could be construed as stalking?”

Snorting, Lucius fought the urge to roll his eyes then shook his head, “No, nothing so crass. Just the pub. Like I said, not sure why I'm being drawn back but it's there and I've been heeding it. Not to mention that it beats sitting in the manor all the time.”

“Well, getting out is something I do encourage,” Roddy smiled. Then the serious expression slid back across his face when he asked, “If you do figure out the issue, what are you going to do? How will you handle it?”

Shaking his head, Lucius admitted, “I don't know. Some things would depend on the situation, of course, but, beyond that, I really don't know what I might do. After all, it's not my place to step into such a thing.”

Nodding, the younger man was quiet for a minute, waiting for his client to sort through some of what they had discussed then asked in a quiet voice, keeping his tone such that it was non-confrontational, “Do you think, perhaps, whatever you are seeing in Mr. Potter might relate, somehow, to what you are dealing with when it comes to your personal loss? I don't mean the exact same thing, just a situation that might be emulating that in a way.”

Handsome face contorting with a sneer, Lucius snapped, “What do you mean by that? It isn't as though I would even know what he is feeling! How can that relate to anything with me!”

Lucius was the kind of client that was hard to work with. He was so controlled and in control of his emotions that one never usually knew how they were affected by certain things. So, to see him actually showing emotion over something was something of a breakthrough. Settling back, he asked, softly, “Who are you mad at, Lucius? What brought on such a display?” Now, he just had to deal with things from there. It was going to be interesting and something that he would be able to build on the following week.

Sitting in the normal pub after the session, Lucius was having a hard time relaxing. It had been a rough go this time around, worse than anything up to that point. Even now, doing something that usually worked wasn't helping to set it aside. Hell, he even had a couple more drinks than normal and that didn't seem to alleviate the issue either or work towards calming his nerves.

With an internal sigh, he downed the rest of his drink then signaled for another. Once it was delivered, he leaned back in his seat and focused on the table close by where Potter and his cousin were, as usual. From what he could hear, they didn't seem to be discussing anything of importance, something about a show on the telly they both wanted to see. If you paid more attention to their eyes and face, though, you saw something completely different. Potter, from his vantage point, seemed to be more dour than he usually was, not showing any kind of enthusiasm for anything they were talking about. His cousin appeared to be quite concerned with this. There was also the observation that Dudley seemed to be paying more attention to just how much Potter was drinking. Hell, in the time Lucius has been there, the young man had gone through a pitcher of beer on his own, save the one glass Dudley was nursing. As usual, though, he said nothing about it, probably not wanting to anger Potter or get into an argument over it. There did appear to be something wrong with Potter though, at least from his observation. Just what that was he didn't know however. It was just a feeling.

As was their routine, when they left the cousin was going to drive Potter home. Though he acted, talked and walked like he was sober, Lucius doubted the young man was so Apparating or something like that wasn't a good idea, especially if he lived alone. His cousin seemed to know this and made sure that saying no wasn't an option.

After the two left, Lucius leaned back, nursing what was left of his drink, placid look on his face but there was a wrinkle in his forehead, the only foreshadowing that something might be amiss with him. That feeling that something was wrong was back full force and he didn't think it had anything to do with how much Potter was drinking. No, that instinct he always trusted was telling him that it was something else, something more serious. Toying with the glass, he thought it over but couldn't come up with anything that it might be. Nor, really had he gleaned any information that might be helpful in figuring it out. The only new information he had heard was that Potter was an Unspeakable, working down in the Department of Mysteries. That, Lucius found to be odd. He had assumed, though he hadn't heard about it, that the young man would have gone on to be an Auror like so many had discussed even before he went to Azkaban. Perhaps, though, that made sense. His want for such a thing might have been quashed by what happened in the war.

Finishing his drink, still troubled by something he couldn't quite put his finger on, Lucius left then Apparated home.

Standing at the place he Apparated to, in front of Malfoy Manor, Lucius stared at the door. Right now, he didn't want to go inside. It wasn't as though he would have to deal with anything, really. It was just that he didn't want to go in and face the silence. Draco, Astoria and Scorpius would all be there, of course, but, as Draco had his own appointment with a therapist earlier in the day, he would be sequestered in his quarters in a dour mood. Astoria and Scorpius would be, more than likely, in the playroom trying to give him some space. That meant that he would be left alone with his thoughts. He wasn't willing to face that right now. If he did, it would be like being confined in a gilded cage of some sort. No, he couldn't do it.

Shaking his head, he Apparated again, landing in the small family cemetery at the edge of the grounds. Walking through it, ignoring most of the graves, he made his way to the newest one that was decorated with fresh roses. It was there his wife was taking her final rest. Once reaching it, he stood at the head of the grave, staring at the headstone, feeling his heart grow heavy. Reaching out, he softly touched the cold marble of the marker and gave a sad smile.

Conjuring a chair, he sat down by the headstone and looked at the fresh roses he made certain were there every week; he then glanced at the ground. Merlin, he missed his wife. No, they hadn't had the perfect marriage and both had, over the years they were together, affairs but what they had been was best friends. And he had loved her. Now, he missed her more than he could ever articulate to anyone. It was as though part of himself were in the ground with her.

Sighing, he shook his head then said, softly, “Why did you do this, Narcissa? I need you and always have. I don't know how I'm going to deal with some of this without you.” Settling back, a sad look on his face, he began to talk to her about all that was bothering him. He didn't think it would help but, maybe, it might jog something. If nothing else, maybe it might make things click.

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Survivor's Guilt