Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59825 -:- 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
- 27
- 28
- 29
2nd February 1993: Afternoon

Two months; two whole months of people staring at him, whispering about him, acting as though he was going to petrify them the second they did something to annoy him. Little did they all know that if he was capable of that, almost the entire school would be filled with people statues by that point. He was sick of it, all of it, and that was why he was standing in the middle of the Gryffindor boys' bathroom with a piece of parchment in one hand and a pin in the other.

There was one question which was causing Harry all the trouble and it was that question he was about to answer; was he the Heir of Slytherin?

He had "borrowed" a large piece of blood-line parchment from Binns' classroom and was fully prepared to use it. Last year he had passed the opportunity by and, if he was perfectly honest, he was still not overly keen on the idea of knowing who his birth parents were, but he felt he had little other choice. What better way to prove that he was not the Heir of Slytherin? If it meant he had to know about his more immediate relatives then so be it.

For a second, Harry looked at himself in the mirror, as if daring himself to back out of doing this. The self made challenge was ignored though and with no small amount of anticipation he purposely jabbed his left index finger with the pin. He winced at the sharp pain and quickly pulled the pin out again. A drop of blood quickly grew at the point of the pin-prick and, holding his breath, he quickly pressed the bleeding finger to the parchment in his hand.

He could not bring himself to look at the parchment as his blood spread across it, forming straight lines and the names of his relatives and ancestors, so he set it down on the edge of a sink and turned away from it. After quickly healing his finger with a very simple charm Severus had taught him at some point, his thumb came up to slip in between his lips and he nibbled on its tip nervously. The few seconds he actually waited seemed hours for him and eventually he lost his patience. He took up the parchment once again, his eyes instantly going to the top of the page where his ancestors from a centuries ago would be.

In less time than it took to blink once, Harry's fears were laid to rest. Salazar Slytherin's name was not present and nothing even resembling that name was there. A weight lifted off of his heart and he allowed his arms to drop as he tilted his head back, a beaming smile on his face as wave after wave of relief swept through him. He had to admit it, a part of him had really started to doubt himself, a part of him had been seriously asking "what if?" and wondering "just maybe...". But now that had been silenced as it was there, right in his hands. He, Haryon Snape, was in no way related to Salazar Slytherin.

Maybe it was the high he was feeling at that moment or maybe it was just the curiosity that would have killed any cat ten times over, but Harry was suddenly eager to see who his birth parents were. That did not stop the moment's hesitation before he brought the parchment back up to look at, but it did not stop him all together. The parchment was brought back up to face and his eyes scanned down the length of the parchment from the top, down to the bottom...

His jaw dropped, his blood ran abruptly cold and he did not move. The sight was terrible yet he could not look away. He could only stare at the names of his family, the names of his parents and the names of his siblings, each person's name ending with the same surname: Potter.

He was...A Potter? That...That just was impossible surely! Him, the son of James and Lily Potter? The older brother of the spawn of Satan Johnathan Potter? It had to be a mistake. The parchment had to be faulty or something, it was not right, it could not be...

But it occurred to him that there was evidence to support it. The strange way Lily Potter seemed to act whenever she was around him, the fact that he had noticed on several occasions that there was a definite similarity in appearance between him and both male Potters and his green eyes; such a startling green and so much like Lily Potter's...

...He was a Potter...Of all the people in all the world, why did he have to be the son of James Potter? The man that his entire family hated with a passion, the man that had been so horrible to his father when they had been in school together, the man that both Severus and Lucius would not hesitate to Crucio if they could get away with it...And he was the man's son, his flesh and blood...

Harry's eyes filled with tears and he dropped the parchment quickly, staggering away from it on unsteady legs as he sucked in a shuddered gasp. It was only when his back connected with the tiled wall of a shower cubical that he stopped, but his eyes never left the piece of parchment which now lay abandoned on the white floor. The piece of parchment which had ruined his life and still held the potential to ruin it even more. And he had no one to blame but himself...

A choked sob forced its way out of Harry as he bowed his lower body forward, his arms coming around his waist to hug himself tightly. Everything around him began to shake. The wood around him began to split, the mirrors shattered and the shower heads groaned as his haywire magic tried to rip them away from the wall. Sobs began to wrack his body and he moved his hands to cradle his head, sliding down the wall he was leaning against. Directly above him, the shower head finally gave out and shot away from the wall, ricocheting off of the floor a few feet away with a sharp ping at the same time that several other shower heads did the same and the taps too. Water shot out of the broken faucets and the one above Harry began to soak through his clothing but he was none the wiser.

Harry curled into himself, burying himself in the corner of the shower cubical, bringing his legs up against his chest and tucking his face against his knees, wanting to hide himself away from everything forever. How could he face anyone again? How could he go out there and act as though nothing had changed between him and Johnathan Potter? How could he face his father again? He was an accomplished liar, that was true, but could he really hide something like this so completely? Of all people, why did he have to be James Potter's son?

Time passed, countless minutes which may have even made up an hour or more, and Harry was left alone, huddled in his corner, numb to everything. He did not feel his soaked clothes and he was not irritated by the strands of loose, wet hair that stuck to his face. When the sound of an opening door made itself known over the splashing of the water, he did not even properly comprehend that. Somewhere in his consciousness he heard it yet it failed to compute. He just stayed there, his aching eyes staring into the pocket of darkness his curled body had created.

"Harry!" A female voice gasped and if he had been more bothered he would have wondered what a girl was doing in the boys' bathroom. As it was, he ignored the gasp completely, acting as though he had never heard it. Hurried footsteps splashed in the water which covered the floor, growing louder as they drew in closer. And then there was a hand on his shoulder while the other tried to lift his head. "Harry? What is it? What happened?" He made no fight when his arm was pulled away from over his face but he did not lift his gaze or even flicker it in the girl's direction. "Harry?"

"I know who I am."

"What?"

Harry finally flickered his eyes to the side, glancing quickly at the worried face of Hermione before looking back down. "I wanted to know if I was really the Heir. Good news," he said with a weak smile which was completely forced. "I'm not."

"Then what happened?" Hermione asked gently, settling down beside the older boy despite the fact the ground was now covered in a good inch or two of water.

"I know who I am." Harry simply repeated, his gaze falling again and his eyes closing gently.

Hermione looked at him quizzically before something floating on top of the water a few feet away caught her attention. She turned to look at it properly and saw that, even from her distance, it was obviously Harry's family tree. The water sloshed around her as she got onto her knees to reach for it and then when she drew back with the parchment in her hand and settled again. Her eyes widened instantly and her hand came up to cover her mouth. "Oh my God..."

"Say that a couple thousand more times and you might just about be where I am now."

"But...How...Why didn't they keep you?" She breathed tearfully, obviously upset for her friend.

Harry remained silent but shook his head a little in a sign that he had no idea.

Hermione looked down at the parchment again, shaking her head lightly as well. "I can't believe this..."

"And yet there it is."

"You're John's brother."

"Please Hermione, don't say that." Harry whispered heart-brokenly, closing his eyes and pressing against the side of the cubical he was leaning on.

"Sorry."

"Me too." He said, his voice breaking with tears again.

Hermione was instantly up on her knees and leaning closer to him, her arms coming around his shoulders and her head resting against his.

Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened again and Hermione's head shot up in order to see who it was. In the doorway stood Oliver Wood, his eyes wide in shock and fixed right on where Hermione was blocking his view of Harry. "What the bloody hell happened in here?" He demanded, sounding completely flabbergasted.

"Go and get someone, Oliver, it doesn't matter who." Hermione ordered desperately. "Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, Merlin even Draco Malfoy will do, just go and get someone and quickly."

"Erm, right, okay." He agreed quickly before turning around and dashing out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

The second he was gone, Hermione turned back to Harry. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to say nothing." Harry answered in a monotone, the tears once again passed.

"How do you mean?"

"We're not going to tell anyone what happened here and we're not going to tell them about me."

"Harry, you can't be..."

"I can't let my father know. I can't lose him."

"Your father isn't going to care..."

"My father hates no one more than James bloody Potter. If he was to find out that I'm his son..." He paused and took in a deep, calming breath. "I've already been abandoned by people who should have loved me, why shouldn't it happen with someone who has no reason to love me?"

"Oh Harry, how can you think like that? Your father adores you, it's obvious to everyone who sees the way he looks at you. He wouldn't disown you because of who your birth parents are."

"You don't know what kind of a man he is. He can be so wonderful but he can be so terrifying too. He killed his own father; tortured him to death. I fear it's all too easy to fall out of his favour. It's the same with Uncle Lucius, though I suspect you already know all about him with all the reading you do."

Hermione shook her head lightly in disbelief. "How can you hold such faith in your Goddess yet doubt the love of your family?"

"Because the Great Lady is forgiveness and She will never turn her back on one of Her Priests, not unless She really had no choice but to. My family is less than forgiving."

The Second Year girl gave a soft sigh. "So what do we do?"

"We say nothing." Harry replied again simply. "Just pretend that I haven't spoken the entire time and they can't ask for information. I'll handle everything else."

"What should we do with this?" She asked quietly, indicating piece of parchment still loosely held in her hand.

"If you could get rid of it please." The teenager asked in a shaky voice. It was then that he turned his head very slightly to look at the girl. "I know asking you to pretend that nothing's happened is a lot to ask for..."

"It's all right." She interrupted then, having folded the parchment and put it in her robes before reaching out to put her arm around him again.

They fell into silence then. Harry's head had lulled back against the wall and Hermione's arm stayed around him in a comforting hold. The only sound around them was the splashing of water as more flowed out from the broken faucets and hit the soaked floor. When the water suddenly stopped, both teenagers knew that it would not be long before they were joined by teachers and that scared Harry into tensing up again. As a gentle sob left him, he curled back into himself, in the exact same position as before. The tears in Hermione's eyes which had been threatening to fall for the past several minutes broke free at that heart breaking sound and she held him a little tighter, offering as much silent support as she could.

What seemed like an eternity later, the door to the bathroom flew open, the water moving with it. Hermione looked up and was slightly surprised to see it was Professor McGonagall standing there rather than Professor Snape like she expected. "Miss Granger, what is it that's happened?" The stern Deputy Headmistress asked as she waded over to where they were.

"I don't know, Professor," Hermione lied smoothly, though her tone was still tearful, as she moved out of the way to allow her Head of House access to the gently sobbing Harry. "I came back to get a book I had forgotten when I noticed that there was water leaking out from underneath the door and I checked to see what had happened. Harry was right there, he hasn't moved or spoken."

"Haryon?" MaGonagall said quietly, resting a hand on the trembling boy's shoulder. "Haryon, it's Professor McGonagall, what's wrong? What's happened?"

Harry remained stubbornly silent, controlling his sobs enough to silence them so that only his shoulders shook sightly. He tensed his muscles when the woman beside him tried to pry his arms away from his face and he ignored everything she said to him. This was not part of some grand master plan, he actually had no idea how he was going to explain this entire incident. He always thought of something though and he was somewhat confident he would be able to think of something this time, it was just going to take him a little longer than normal. What he was doing right then was stalling and he would continue to stall until the very last second he could.

The sound of footsteps reached them all through the open door and a mere second or two later, Harry knew that his father must have entered as Professor McGonagall moved away from him. Though, it could have been Professor Dumbledore, she would move out the way for him no doubt, but it was more likely to be his father. And, when the familiar scent of stale potions mixed with the spice of bath oils reached his nose, his theory was confirmed; only Severus smelt in such a reassuring way which usually instantly made Harry feel safe. It did not work that time however. His fear and apprehension over everything that was about to come in the next few hours over-took it and he tensed again, more tears slipping out of his clenched eyes.

Strong arms gently worked their way around Harry and although he did not fight against them, he did not make it easier either. He remained curled, he remained stiff and he remained silent. Soon, he was rising off of the wet floor, an arm around his shoulders and one underneath his knees, supporting his entire body easily; he was rather skinny and light after all. He did not open his eyes, he fought against the desire to snuggle into the warmth and scent of his father; he stayed as curled up and hidden as possible and he brought his hands up to cover his face completely, no doubt getting finger-prints all over his glasses but that was the last thing on his mind at that moment.

In silence he was carried forward, in silence he was carried out of Gryffindor Tower, in silence he ignored all the open stares which were fixed on him as they passed people in the corridors, in silence he was carried down to the dungeons. And it was in silence that he was settled on his father's lap, that he was carefully fed a vial of Dreamless Sleep, and then dried and partially undressed before put under the covers of the bed.

*********************************************************************

2nd February 1993: Night

Only reluctantly did Harry open his eyes when he woke up later that night. The bedroom was lit with a soft orange glow, probably from a candle or two, and everything except him was still. He was alone; he was unsure if that was a good or a bad thing. Tears prickled the backs of his eyes but did not fall as everything came rushing back into his mind: all the fear; all the shame; all the uncertainty. He curled up tighter on his side, facing the wall the bed was against. What he would give to never leave that bed. How was he going to face the school again? Because he knew for a fact that the entire school would know by now; he was probably the subject of most conversations in the Great Hall that dinner time.

Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming, or possibly banging back against a wall, reached him through the shut door of his father's bedroom along with the angry yell of: "...Ignorant now to even comprehend a simple instruction?" It was his father's voice.

"I understood it perfectly, I simply chose to ignore it." That was Draco.

"And in doing so wasted yourself a journey. Do you honestly think I am going to let anyone else see him before tomorrow at the earliest?"

"You can't stop me though! You're not the only one who loves him and it's not fair of you too..."

"Once again, Draco, you seem to have forgotten exactly how old you really are. You are fourteen, you are not an adult despite the activities you participate in with your Year mates." A pause. "Don't look so surprised; I am only too well aware of just how "innocent" you are, as is your father, and such behaviour only proves that you are still incredibly immature."

"Oh my...Does Harry know?"

"I seriously doubt it. Now, if you would please get out of my living room, I don't believe I gave you permission to enter."

"But Sev, please..."

The sound of slamming again and then there was silence; the confrontation was obviously over. It was a relief. Harry disliked arguments and he really was in no mood to listen to one. But of course that did now mean that he was going to have to talk to his father and he had no idea what he was going to say. What could he say that would warrant his reaction? No way in hell was he going to tell the truth. If he was ever going to lie about something, it was this. But what could he say instead? He frantically tried to shuffle through his memories, trying to remember anything he had not mentioned to anyone that he could use.

A soft click came as the door into the bedroom was opened. Shuffling cloth and then another click as the door was shut. More shuffling and then the mattress beneath Harry dipped slightly as a new weight was added. "Haryon?" Severus's voice said gently as a hand smoothed over the top of his head.

"Father." Harry whispered in reply though he did not turn over to face him.

"How do you feel?" There was a definite sense of relief in the Potion Master's voice, no doubt brought on by the one whispered word of his son.

"Groggy."

"That's no surprise. The Dreamless Sleep hasn't worn off completely yet and I imagine all those tears have contributed to the feeling as well." Severus paused and Harry was very aware that he was being studied intently by the man. "Come here, darling." He murmured eventually, his hand snaking around the side of Harry's head that was resting on the pillow and gently coaxing him up.

Harry really could not be bothered to fight or refuse so he moved his tired limbs over a bit in order to shuffle a closer to his father. When he had moved close enough, Severus took over and hauled Harry up and next to him with a surprising amount of ease. Harry was settled against his father's side, an arm curled around him and his head resting against the man's firm chest. They stayed like that for a little while; Severus sitting on the edge of the bed with Harry leaning against him completely, his legs curled behind him and his loose hair covering him like a blanket. Then, Harry felt the man beside him crane his neck down and he knew what was coming.

"Haryon, I need you to tell me what happened."

For several minutes, Harry said nothing. It was not that he was thinking of what to say, he had already decided on that in the few seconds it had taken him to get into this new position against the Potions Master, he was just preparing himself. Would he cry at some point? Yes, very probably if only because of what he was not saying rather than what he was, but he did not want to burst into tears before he had even started. So he concentrated on breathing in and then breathing out calmly, steadying himself for the next few minutes. Then, finally, he began:

"I was just washing my hands when suddenly everything around me vanished and I was somewhere else. It was cold and grey and everything looked so dead. It was a very small room, more like a cell I think, and the doorway was blocked off by iron bars...The more I think about it, it probably was a cell actually. And I wasn't alone in there. A man was huddled into a corner and I think...I think it was Peter Pettigrew."

Harry paused, to see if his father had anything to say about that but Severus simply murmured: "Go on."

"For a while I could only stare at him because I didn't know what else to do. But then there was a noise, a completely inhuman noise that just made my entire body freeze. I looked over to the cell door and saw these three figures. They were cloaked in black, I couldn't see their faces because they had their hoods up but I...I don't think they had any legs, they looked like they were just floating. And then one of them opened the door with just as wave of its hand and then they were coming in.

"Pettigrew started sobbing, begging them to go away and to leave him alone. And they just totally ignored him and instead they came straight over to me. They surrounded me and then there was suddenly pain deep inside me somewhere. That's when I heard a woman crying and I..." Harry hesitated as a lump formed in his throat. "I felt so terribly alone, like no one wanted me or would ever want me." Tears began to fall out of his eyes. "I was so scared, no one loved me, no one was there and all I wanted was you to come and make it better..." No more came as Harry burst into sobs as he voiced his true fears which seemed all the more possible now that he knew who had created him.

"Shh, shh, shh." Severus cooed gently as he pulled his son onto his lap so he could better cradle the trembling boy. Harry instantly pressed his face against his father's shoulder and continued to cry fitfully. "It's all right, my little prince, it's all right; I'm here, I've got you, you're all right."

It took several minutes for Harry to compose himself again and once he had stopped crying he just lay in Severus' arms limply. The usually sour man rocked him soothingly like he was still a small child and slowly carded his fingers through the long strands of dark hair. Several more minutes passed after Harry had stopped crying before Severus made another attempt to get some information out of him.

"And then what happened after all that was over?"

"I found myself back in the bathroom, on the floor and soaked through. I don't know what happened and I couldn't move...Everything just still felt so real..."

Severus pulled back a little then so that he could look Harry in the face. He tilted his son's head towards him gently so that the teenager had to look at him too before taking on a sad, sympathetic expression. "My poor little boy." He whispered as he brushed a few strands of hair away from Harry's face.

More tears filled Harry's sparkling green eyes at that and Severus pulled him back against his chest in comfort. All the while, Harry wondered if his father would still say such sweet words if he knew the truth.

*********************************************************************

3rd February 1993: Morning

Harry poked at the contents of his plate dejectedly from where he sat on the sofa in his father's living room, thoughts of the night before still fresh in his mind. After he had finished crying the previous night, he had been fed a couple of potions which he guessed were to calm him down and what-not and then tucked back into bed. He was pretty sure Severus had stayed with him until he had fallen asleep but when he had woken up that morning the man had been gone. Harry had washed, dressed and then left the bedroom. No sooner had he done that than Severus came storming through the portrait hole, obviously in a foul mood. One look at his son's tired, sad face seemed to melt away his scowl though and whatever had peeved the man had been instantly forgotten. Breakfast had been called for Harry as it was already half way through the first period of the day and that had led to the current moment.

"Do try and eat something, Haryon." Severus urged gently from where he stood behind the sofa that Harry was sitting on. When he had crept up behind him, Harry was unsure.

"Sorry, I just don't have much of an appetite." Harry replied but dutifully brought a slice of toast to his lips and took a small bite from the middle so he took none of the crust.

"As understandable as that is, I cannot allow you to go without nothing as we all know you have the tendency to faint when you don't feed yourself." The man pointed out and Harry almost felt the desire to tell him that was a lie just so he could get out of eating the food in front of him that sat in his stomach like a lead weight. He remained silent though and continued to nibble on his toast reluctantly. "You won't be attending lessons this morning." His father told him then as he moved around the side of the sofa. "However, you will be attending lunch in the Great Hall and, depending on how you feel after that, you may very well be attending your classes this afternoon."

"Lunch in the Great Hall?" Harry echoed nervously. The Great Hall meant other people, other people meant fellow Gryffindors, fellow Gryffindors meant Johnathan Potter...

"Yes, I think it would be best not to dwell on this event too much." Severus answered, now standing beside his son. He lovingly brushed a stray strand of hair away from the green eyes it had obscured before resting that same hand on the teenager's shoulder. "If you are still feeling fragile then you may sit at the Head Table with me but you will not be allowed to hide away in here; you have to face the rest of the school eventually, Haryon, despite what they may think or say."

Harry nodded in agreement though he applied his father's words to another point; he could not keep avoiding Potter forever and he did not particularly want to. The sooner he was back amongst the school population, the sooner he had been around Potter again, the sooner he could get back to normal and put the terrible new knowledge he possessed to the back of his mind.

*********************************************************************

3rd February 1993: Midday

The supportive hand on his shoulder, the reassuring presence at his side, the faint scent of stale potions mixed with spice; none of them helped Harry in any way as he walked towards the Great Hall alongside his father, trying desperately not to hyperventilate.

The morning had been still, restful and silent as Harry had used the time to think about everything and anything about his life. He thought about his family, who and where he came from, what had happened to him in the past, possible happenings of the future, what he wanted to happen in the future. Yes, it had been a morning of self-reflection which had left Harry feeling at peace with himself and accepting of his situation. He was the first-born child of Lily and James Potter but that did not mean he was their son. He had been raised by Severus and the Malfoys and that made him a Snape through and through. He may have Potter genes in him but he was not, in any way, a Potter. He was a Snape and damn proud of it.

After that self-revelation, Harry had actually smiled a little bit and that smile had remained all the way up to Severus coming to get him for lunch. Then it had vanished and all the calm and acceptance of before turned into agitation and the desire to hyperventilate like no one's business.

Okay, true, he had made peace with who his biological family was but that did not mean he felt even half way ready to confront one of them and act like nothing had changed. And John Potter being who he was would probably take the opportunity to start a fight and Harry was unsure he would be able to effectively pull that off without saying something he might end up regretting. But, of course, there was the option of sitting next to his father during lunch at the Head Table. There was just one problem with that; he really did not want to. He was fourteen years old and although he did not care what people thought of him for still enjoying his father's company and sharing affection with the man, he was not going to give certain people (aka Johnathan Potter and Bethany Zabini) the satisfaction of, basically, "hiding behind daddy". Especially as his cover story really did not justify such an act as far as the student population probably knew. Actually, he was unsure what the student population "knew", he would have to ask Fred and George when he sat down.

Back to reality and Harry and Severus had reached the doors which led into the Great Hall. They were shut for some horrible, inexcusable reason which meant even more attention would no doubt be drawn to their entrance. For all days for the bloody doors to be closed during a meal!

"Are you sure you'll be all right at the Gryffindor table?" Severus enquired gently one final time.

Harry nodded and gave a small noise of confirmation.

"Very well then. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." The teenager said with a weak, nervous smile. The hand on his shoulder gave a small, reassuring squeeze before it left in favour of helping the other hand push open the huge doors in front of them.

Harry mentally cringed at the silence which fell over the entire Great Hall as the doors were pushed open and he felt the sudden desire to run away fill him, if only so he did not have to be under such intense scrutiny from so many people. The firm, supportive hand of Severus came to rest on the small of his back though and it both urged him forward gently and acted as a deterrent to dash back down to the dungeons. Harry's legs moved forward obediently even as he took a deep, composing breath.

Every single eye was on them and Harry could actually feel the stares like hundreds of pin-pricks all over his body; it was more than a little un-nerving. His father seemed unphased as normal and kept his usual, stern teaching face on as he walked with his son down the aisle, towards the area of the Gryffindor table where the familiar heads of ginger hair of Fred and George were. People only moved to shift their positions so they could keep their eyes on him as he moved down the length of the hall. Harry noticed, out of the corner of his eye, Draco and Bethany sitting side by side at the Slytherin table; neither looked very happy, both glaring in their direction, though Harry suspected that while Bethany was obviously glaring at him, Draco was probably glaring at Severus.

Finally, Harry and Severus reached Fred and George. The twins wordlessly shuffled apart to make space for Harry to sit down in between them and then looked over their shoulders at him. Harry gave them a weak smile before turning to give his father a small nod as a sign that he was going to be okay. The Potions professor gave him a stiff nod back, gave the surrounding Gryffindors a warning glare, before smoothly gliding the rest of the way up the hall, towards the Head Table. Harry stepped over the bench and settled beside Fred and George. The moment he had, he found himself crushed between then two, their arms around him in a tight embrace.

"If everyone would please return to their meals." Dumbledore asked then.

Still no one moved.

"Now!" That had sounded rather stern for Dumbledore and it had the desired affect as practically everyone looked away from Harry and back down to their food. A low hum of chatter started up but it was not nearly as loud as it usually was.

The arms around Harry loosened and fell away but Fred and George still kept their faces close to Harry's. "What really happened?" George asked quietly but he was still heard by several of the House mates who were sitting around them and they all turned their eyes onto the trio, some more discreetly than others.

Fred turned and glared at them all. "Oi, private conversation if you don't mind." He snapped at them all and they all instantly looked away though it was obvious that they were still straining to listen. There was nothing they could do to stop that though so they would just have to make sure they weren't over heard.

"What are people saying?" Harry enquired quietly.

"The main opinion is that you lost control of the monster from the Chamber of Secrets and it tried to attack you." George whispered, his eyes occasionally flickering to those who were around them.

Harry gave a small chuckle at that and shook his head. "Not even close. I had a vision, a pretty bad one."

"What of?" Fred asked with gentle concern.

"I'm not sure exactly but it was bad. I saw Peter Pettigrew in it and there were also these things that seemed to know I was there. They did something to me..."

"You don't remember what you did to the bathroom?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. All I know is one minute I was washing my hands in the bathroom, then I was in that horrible place with Pettigrew and those creatures. And after I find myself huddled into the corner of a shower cubical, soaking wet and freezing cold feeling as though I was completely alone in the world."

"Maybe it was Azkaban." Fred mused as he thoughtlessly started to pile things onto Harry's plate.

"Those creatures you saw might've been one of the guards. I don't know that much about them but I've heard Dad mention them once or twice."

Harry gave a small hum of agreement as he picked up one of the sandwiches on his plate and took a small bite. He still was not particularly hungry but he could be pretty certain that there were several people in the hall who would be watching him to make sure he ate a certain amount. As he took another bite, there was a gentle tapping on his shoulder. He glanced behind him to see it was Hermione standing there. His sandwich was dropped back onto his plate and he swivelled around on his backside, his legs drawing up for a second in order to avoid kicking George beside him, in order to face her.

"Hi." He greeted her quietly.

"Hi." She returned somewhat shyly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right. Thank you, for yesterday, for staying with me."

A blush lit Hermione's cheeks and she looked down at her feet. "Oh, erm, no need to thank me, really, I mean, what else could I have done?"

"I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Oh, you did more than worry me; scared me half to death in fact." Hermione told him, lifting her eyes again to show that she was being playful. "But it doesn't matter, I'm just glad you're all right now."

Harry smiled at her a little more brightly as he held open his arms in invitation. Hermione accepted a little shyly, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around the older boy who wrapped his around her in turn. "Thank you for keeping my secret." He breathed into her ear, barely audible despite it was said right next to her.

"Think nothing of it." She whispered in reply.

A few more seconds passed before they pulled away from each other, their arms dropping. They gave each other smiles once again, partially aware of the attention they had attracted. One thing that neither of them were aware of though was the look of burning hatred that a certain blond haired Slytherin was sending to the back of frizzy brown hair.

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3rd February 1993: Early Afternoon

All in all, lunch had not been that horrible. Yes, Harry had been on the receiving end of many a curious look but at least no one had tried to pump him for information. He had also had to force down food he really had not felt like eating. However, he had seen Potter and had not reacted in any weird way and he now felt a whole lot more confident in keeping his new knowledge to himself and still being able to act perfectly normal around other people. Indeed, it had been a productive lunch time. Not exactly a comfortable one or one he would ever want to repeat again, but it had not been as bad as he thought it would.

Now, making his way out of the Great Hall, he was fairly confident he would make it through the rest of the day just fine. Fred and George had made it clear that they were not going to just stand by and let people poke their noses into his business and he thought that people probably had a bit more tact than that anyway. Everything would be fine, he would be fine.

"Oi, Harry." Fred said as he nudged his friend lightly with his elbow to get his attention. Harry turned his head to see the red haired teenager was staring back at the doors of the Great Hall. "I think Malfoy wants to have a chat."

The dark haired boy turned his head the rest of the way to see that, indeed, the Slytherin was stalking towards them rather purposefully.

"I'll, uh, I'll catch up with you both in Divination." Harry assured them, turning to look at the twins again.

"Are you sure?"

"We can wait."

Harry smiled at their concern. "No, it's all right, I'll be fine."

The two Weasleys gave him a penetrating look before sighing and agreeing. They turned away and headed off and Harry focused his attention onto Draco. He opened his mouth to say hello to his best friend as he approached but Draco grabbed his arm and began to drag him away before even a breath could escape. Before too long, Harry had found that he had been dragged into an empty classroom and the door had been shut and locked. Then, without warning, Harry was being held against the wall and the Slytherin was staring at him with an intensity that Harry had never seen before. One thing he had seen were those eyes though; eyes which once again, curiously, looked more silver than grey.

"Have I done something?" Harry asked, confused as to why Draco seemed to be so angry with him. He was not afraid in the slightest, he had great trust in the blond and knew he would never do anything to harm him, but it was a rather intimidating position and he would rather not be in it.

"What happened?" Draco demanded harshly, his eyes not straying from Harry's. "Really?"

"I-I'm not completely sure." Harry answered uneasily, taken aback by Draco's tone. "All of a sudden I was in a different place and it was cold and horrible and grey..." He paused to swallow back tears; re-living the experience was still a challenge obviously. "And there were horrible creatures who made everything so much colder and made me feel so alone..."

That obviously seemed enough for Draco because he released Harry from the wall in favour of bringing his arms around his best friend tightly and holding him close. "It's all right, Harry, it's all right. I'm sorry I asked, I'm sorry I made you cry. There's no need to cry anymore, you're not alone, you'll never be alone as long as I'm here. I'll always be with you because I love you. I love you so much."

Harry released a shuddered breath against where he had his forehead resting on Draco's shoulder. The tears had passed once again, thank the Goddess in his opinion, and he could fully concentrate on what exactly his best friend has said. Was it just his imagination, or had that assurance of love sounded less than brotherly?
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Family Means More Than Blood