Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

What Remains	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6084 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Author's note: Somewhat later than I had intended to, but I still had to finish this chapter today *grimaces* This one gave me a bit more trouble than the previous one, but I guess that's going to be a regular occurence with this fic. Either way, apologies for the slight delay and I apologise in advance if the chapter isn't as good as you expected it to be *winces*
Warnings: angst; bigotry (I think that's the best label)
I hope you'll like it!
Part 3
The manor of the Greengrass family was in Cirencester, built nearby a large park. Complicated wards made sure that no Muggle could stumble upon their property; as soon as one of them came too close, the wards would activate, making them think that they had something urgent to do somewhere else.
The pathway to the front doors was illuminated by dozens of floating candles which cast a soft orange glow, guiding the visitors to the manor. A house elf stood by the doors, bowing and opening the large, gleaming white doors for every wizard and witch who had been invited to the gathering.
The end of February saw snow exchanged for rain and people hurried over the path, keeping themselves dry underneath their heavy robes and large hoods covering their faces and hair.
Harry and Draco had Apparated to the gates when the rain had lessened somewhat; the steady stream weakening down to a drizzle.
Harry raised his head, careful to hide his face in his hood, and watched how his breath left him in small, white clouds. There were two 'POP's behind him and a couple hurried past him, the woman muttering darkly about the rain ruining her hair.
"Ready?" Draco questioned softly; his hand gripping Harry's left one tightly, acting like some kind of anchor.
No, I'm not.
But they were here now, dressed in their finest robes, and Harry had no desire to either disappoint Draco or Narcissa. He could do this. It would only be for a couple of hours. If he could endure the looks he received in the Ministry, he could deal with the people at this gathering.
After all, they're much too polite to be obvious about it, he thought snidely. He detested the way Purebloods hid themselves behind a mask, how they pretended to be friendly and polite to one's face, but spewed gossip once backs were turned. He had never been comfortable around people acting like that.
Now however he found himself hoping they would act that way tonight, if only to not have to look at faces full of horror or disgust once they noticed his face.
Just one night of reprieve, would that be asking too much?
"Let's go," Harry murmured with a sigh.
The gates swung open soundlessly when they approached them and the wards tingled across Harry's skin when they passed through them; the magic testing him carefully.
"Welcome to Moonshine Manor," the house elf said, voice a bit squeaky, and bowed; the doors opening with a snap of his long, thin fingers.
A large hallway with an auburn coloured carpet and at least three large chandeliers covered with real diamonds greeted them when they entered the manor. A large, broad, marble staircase was right across from them and Harry could spot two busts of men – most likely Greengrass ancestors – on the landing, gazing over the hallway with stern gazes.
Every three feet there was a large vase filled with blue lisianthus' on the left side of the hallway and on the right side the vases were filled with deep red roses. There were only two doors visible: one was on the left side of the staircase, an unassuming dull brown one, and the other one was on Harry's right side. This door was open, warm golden light spilling out, and people were entering that room, their robes swishing across their ankles.
Harry wasn't aware of how frozen he had been standing there until his vision was filled with bright, concerned grey eyes and he blinked rapidly, shaking his head.
"What?"
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," Draco told him solemnly and Harry smiled weakly, flexing the fingers of his right hand.
"I know. Let's – let's just go in, okay?" He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for the looks he would most likely attract as soon as he lowered his hood.
"It'll be okay," Draco murmured, slipping him an encouraging smile.
Harry wanted to appreciate the reassurance, but he felt too jittery now and his answering smile came out more like a pained grimace.
Nevertheless he followed the blond, reminding himself that he had faced worse situations.
As soon as they entered the large ballroom – it was larger than the Great Hall of Hogwarts – Narcissa swooped down on them with a smile. She was wearing midnight blue robes, which glistened faintly in the light whenever she turned, and the colour brought out her ice blue eyes nicely. Her long, blonde hair was done up in an intricate bun; two curled locks framed her face. Her slim neck was adorned with a silver necklace and the pendant with a piece of sapphire glittered when she turned her attention to Harry and appraised him thoughtfully.
"You're going to lower the hood, Harry?" she asked mildly, not unkindly. Behind her Lucius appeared; his cool, grey eyes sliding over Harry's form before they landed on his son and he inclined his head.
He had been on house arrest for three years for his involvement in the war; half a year ago his sentence had ended and he had been given his wand back. There was still an Auror assigned to his case, checking up on him every so often, but for the most part he was a free man.
"Father," Draco greeted the older man with a faint smile.
"Piece of advice," Lucius said casually, casting a sharp glance at someone near the buffet table. "Laurens Silverwood is on a warpath, so it'd do you well to stay clear from him."
Harry had no clue who Laurens Silverwood was, but judging by Draco's grimace it wasn't someone they were fond of. Then again, he supposed there were very few people the Malfoy family was fond of.
"Thanks for the warning," Draco muttered and rolled his shoulders.
"Harry? The hood," Narcissa repeated patiently, but her eyes were slightly narrowed.
Harry checked a sigh and raised his hands reluctantly. He grasped the edges of the hood and lowered it slowly until finally his face was completely uncovered. A house elf popped up next to him and held out his thin arms and Harry pursed his lips before unclasping his robe and handing it over to the small creature.
Another house elf had taken over Draco's robe and a cool hand found Harry's again, entwining their fingers gently.
"Let's go; I've spotted Blaise near the table with the salads," Draco remarked and tugged at Harry's hand.
"Your father and I have business with Harling," Narcissa said and nodded at Harry, not focusing in particular on his face, but not avoiding it either. "I hope you'll enjoy this gathering, Harry."
Lucius didn't say anything, save for a raised eyebrow, but Harry preferred it that way. He and the older wizard would never see eye to eye; civilised interaction was the most anyone could expect of them.
Harry smiled at Narcissa – ignoring how it pulled at the scars of his left cheek – and nodded at Lucius before he let himself be dragged to Zabini, who was sipping from a glass with a rose liquid and staring contemplatively at the various salads as if he was trying to decide which one would taste the best.
"Draco, I was wondering whether you would show up today," Zabini said in lieu of a greeting and looked up. His dark eyes glided over Harry and he inclined his head. "Potter. I see Draco managed to convince you finally to be at a gathering again. Can't really blame you for staying away, considering how boring these functions are." He cast a look of distaste at the room.
"Then why bother coming?" Draco questioned, accepting two glasses of a house elf. They were filled with a golden coloured liquid and had bubbles at the surface and it smelt like peaches when the blond handed one over to Harry.
"Because according to mother I should socialise more with the elite and unfortunately she has an impressive arsenal of spells," Zabini answered dryly. "I'd be an idiot to go against her."
"Isn't she dating someone at the Ministry now?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He thought he had seen Mrs. Zabini – or was it Ms. Zabini? He still hadn't managed to figure that one out – once or twice in the Atrium, but he had never paid much attention to her. There had been no need to ever interact with her; as far as he knew she had never been involved in any illicit affairs – or if she had, the Ministry had never managed to find proof.
"Yes, a bloke who works in the Department of International Magical Co-operation," Zabini snorted and shook his head derisively. "Looks like he can barely hold his own against a fifth year in Hufflepuff, but he comes from a family with money, so I'm guessing my mother isn't interested in his magical power."
"Talking about interest, I don't see that amazing girl you were blabbering about last week," Draco remarked with a smirk.
"That's because she bailed on me," Zabini replied dryly. "Apparently free booze and food weren't enough of an incentive to tolerate my mother."
Smugness lit up grey eyes. "Really now? Well, guess this means that I still have - "
"Can I please have your attention?"
All three men turned around; on the left of the doors there was a small stage placed and a solemn woman, whose dark hair was streaked with silver, stood right in the middle of the stage, gazing patiently at the people. Seemingly out of nowhere chairs appeared in front of the stage, neatly arranged in rows of twelve by eight, but Harry suspected the house elves had a hand in making the seating appear.
Once the woman was certain she had everyone's attention, she smiled faintly and beckoned them closer. "Please take a seat, ladies and gentlemen."
"At least I'll be comfortable if I fall asleep due to boredom," Zabini muttered and after snatching a glass of one of the plates a house elf was offering to him, he wandered over to the chairs; his face the perfect picture of boredom.
Grey eyes caught green ones. "Where do you want to sit?"
"Somewhere in the back," Harry replied decisively, scanning the wizards and witches who were mingling around the chairs, trying to decide which spot would be the most perfect one.
Draco raised an eyebrow, torn between looking amused and disapprovingly, but he followed Harry to the chairs and didn't protest when the dark haired wizard chose a seat in the third to last row.
Some people who passed him visibly started when they noticed who was sitting at the end of the row but the piercing look of the woman on the stage made them hurry to their seats. Idly Harry wondered whether she had been related to Snape.
"Welcome everyone," the woman said calmly once everyone had sat down and they had stopped talking. Now there were only the sounds of rustling cloth and the occasional cough disturbing the silence. "My name is Helena Bonfield and I'm here to talk about the fund raising for a new orphanage in Stroud. As you all know the war left a lot of children parentless. The orphanages are at full capacity at this moment, but there are still children out there who don't have any family left and are left to fend for themselves. It is for them that I stand here before you now. They are in need of shelter, of a new home, a new family, and I ask you to give them that."
At first Harry was interested in her speech. He knew a lot of families had suffered; right after the war had ended he had received thousands of letters from people who had lost loved ones and who had needed someone to talk to, to get help from. Most of the letter writers had been genuine in their grief, had just wanted help and Harry had directed them to the Healers who were specialised in helping people with their grief. Then there had been people who had just demanded money from him, insisting that as a hero of the war he had to donate money to help them.
Those letters Harry hadn't given a second glance. He had no trouble donating money to help people; he did have problems with people flat out demanding money from him, like he was obligated to give them it, like the loss of their family member could be dealt with if they had money.
Amongst the cries for help and the demands for money, there had been charities asking him whether he was willing to donate some money. The rude ones he had thrown out, but he had sat together with Hermione to figure out which charities were in need of his support the most. Hermione had been more than willing to help him weed through the requests and in the end he had ended up donating money to a couple of orphanages and a project that would help people cope with the trauma of the war.
Given his donations in the past, he was interested in Bonfield's campaign; children in need would remain a sensitive issue for him, especially orphans as he had grown up as one, but as Bonfield continued droning on and on about her own achievements in helping victims of the war, it became clear that Bonfield was more interested in receiving recognition for herself than in actually securing donations for the orphanage.
This was exactly why he disliked Pureblood functions. The majority of them liked to put up a nice front, but ultimately it came down to the fact that they liked talking about their success more than they wanted to actually help people.
When he looked around he saw a lot of people listening attentively to Bonfield – or at least pretending like they were paying attention to her – but there were also a couple who were whispering to each other, barely looking at Bonfield and some were even wandering back to the buffet table. Bonfield didn't seem to notice or she was deliberately ignoring them.
"I'm going outside for a bit," Harry whispered, feeling a bit on edge for some reason. Maybe it was the monotonous voice of Bonfield or the sensation of being looked at, even though he couldn't spot anyone looking his way.
Merlin, if he didn't watch out, he'd become as paranoid as Moody.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Draco murmured; one of his hands landed on Harry's knee, squeezing it.
"No, I'll be back in a bit. Just need to get some fresh air," he smiled and rose up, barely even casting a look back to see whether anyone was taking notice of his departure. He did catch Narcissa's eyes and she raised an eyebrow, cocking her head faintly, but she didn't attempt to stop him and soon he was out of the ballroom and he felt like he could finally breathe.
Stop being so ridiculous, he scolded himself and he went back out of the front doors; not feeling up to roaming around the manor in an attempt to find a door leading to the backyard.
Cool night air swept over him when he set foot outside and he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh, cold air. The doors fell shut behind him soundlessly and he looked up dubiously at the sky.
He hadn't thought of getting his robe, but it didn't appear as if it was going to rain any time soon, the sky a clear dark blue with just a few white clouds scattered around, and he decided that a Warm Up Charm would be good enough.
As soon as the charm was wrapped around him, surrounding him with a pleasant warmth, he started walking, going right where the path curved around the building. The light coming through the large windows of the manor on his left was enough to make the path visible and prevented him from stumbling on the gravel. There was nothing but a hedge of thick trees on his right, shielding the manor of whatever laid on the other side of that natural wall. The path led to the large backyard which stretched out further than the naked eye could see in the darkness.
There was no light shining through the windows on this side of the building, but several balls of magical, white light – resembling the nightlamps Harry and Andromeda had cast for Teddy when he had still been a toddler and afraid of the dark – floated in several places spread out through the backyard, illuminating rose bushes, a white path and the occasional statue.
A large square fountain was built around thirty-two yards behind the manor; a golden mermaid was holding a narrow jug in her hands out of which water flowed, creating a high arch in the air before it landed in the fountain itself. Some sort of hedge was planted in front of the fountain, surrounding it, bar the entrance left behind in the hedge that led to the fountain.
A bench was placed in front of the hedge, facing the manor, and he found himself meandering over to it; his footsteps silent on the tiled path. He sank down on it, noting absentmindedly that the Greengrass' had had the forethought to cast a Cushion Charm on it, and exhaled slowly, watching how his breath left him in white puffs.
Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, followed by a dog barking briefly. There was the rustling of the leaves in the trees and he felt himself relax; hands burrowed in the pockets of his trousers.
He supposed the gathering wasn't going too badly. Sure, it was the same pompous Pureblood bullshit disguised as a plea to help the less fortunate – and he would have Hermione check whether there had been a request handed in to build a new orphanage in Stroud, surely she would know – but there had been a minimum of staring and nobody had approached him to have an awkward conversation.
He had to count that as a win.
Maybe Draco had a point. Maybe it was time to get out more, go to gatherings like this, even if they didn't interest him, but because he had been doing that before the attack. Life went on and it was probably time he got back some control after having had it snatched away from him so brutally, leaving him reeling.
If Death hadn't managed to defeat him, why should he let this anonymous attacker get the best of him? Why would he give in? That wasn't him, that had never been him.
Maybe he could …
Footsteps behind him put him on alert and he found himself gripping his wand tightly until he recognised one of the voices drifting over. Judging by the footsteps, there were two other people in the backyard aside from him: Astoria Greengrass, the youngest daughter, and presumably her friend, but Harry didn't recognise the other woman's voice.
He hadn't had any real interaction with Astoria so far; he had seen her at some of the gatherings Draco had dragged him to, but she had never made an attempt to talk to him and he didn't see a reason to start interacting with her when he hadn't even known her in Hogwarts. He only knew she was a few years younger than him and according to Parkinson, there had been talks about her marrying Draco before Draco had come out and revealed he was together with Harry.
Whether or not Astoria had been bothered by that, Parkinson hadn't been able to tell him.
He thought the two women would walk past him, their high heels audibly approaching the hedge, but the footsteps stopped somewhere behind him and he guessed there was a bench on the other side of this natural wall.
"It's not like you can do much about it, though," the unknown woman said sympathetically.
Harry grimaced and decided it was better if he went back inside; he wasn't about to eavesdrop on a private conversation. Tucking his wand back into his pocket, he stood up and froze when Astoria's reply reached him.
"But I don't understand Draco at all!" Astoria snapped agitatedly. "What is he thinking?"
Unwillingly Harry remained in one spot, barely daring to breathe as he directed his attention to the conversation going on just behind the hedge.
"Maybe it's pity?" Astoria's friend suggested idly and robes rustled. "I mean it wouldn't look good if he left him now, would it? The press would have a field day with it and the Malfoys are still in a precarious position."
"As if Draco would ever do something out of pity," Astoria sneered. "No, I just don't get him. I mean, yes, it made sense to break off the negotiations about our marriage when he and Potter got together, but at least back then Potter was still good looking. Even I have to admit he had a certain appeal. But now? How can Draco even stand to look at Potter, let alone touch him? Is it because of Potter's money? The Greengrass' have money. Because of his reputation?" she snorted. "My family at least knows how to handle our reputation. Potter's fame? What good is that going to do him when nobody can even look at Potter anymore now he looks like that?"
"Well, they haven't been seen at any gatherings until tonight, so I'm guessing it's not going to so well between them," Astoria's friend replied. "Can't really blame Malfoy for that. The Malfoys have always had a thing for beauty and well, Potter doesn't exactly fit that bill anymore."
"Exactly!" Astoria crowed triumphantly. "I knew you'd understand me, Lisa. It just doesn't make any sense. Why doesn't he start the negotiations again? I wouldn't even care about his interest in men. At least with me, he could show me off without feeling ashamed. He's making a laughingstock out of himself now by staying with that freak. Did you know that other families are starting to wonder whether some of You-Know-Who's followers messed with Draco's mind during the war? They say that's the only explanation why he would stay with Potter when he looks like that."
"I don't know, Torie," Lisa sighed. "But a rumour like that isn't good for their reputation. Aren't they trying to get back up the ladder now that Lucius Malfoy has finished his sentence?"
"Yeah, And Potter is singlehandedly ruining their attempt," Astoria sneered.
"Well, Draco was one of the smartest in his year. I'm sure he'll come to his senses soon," Lisa reassured her friend. Her voice took on a mischievous tone when she continued, "Until he does, what do you say we get out of here and have some fun at the Midnight Flower Club?"
"Sounds like a great plan," Astoria laughed. "Let's sneak out the back. I don't want to hear my parents nagging."
They giggled and quickly walked away; their footsteps fading out as the distance between the women and Harry increased more and more.
There was a distant 'POP', signifying they had Apparated away, and then it was completely silent once more.
Harry remained standing there for a long time; long enough for the Warm Up Charm to fade away, leaving him to the mercy of the cold wind which stung his face.
Surrounded by the gorgeous flowers that bloomed at night and statues of which the beauty was captured for eternity and would never be marred.
Unlike him.
AN2: I hope this one isn't as bad as I fear it is *grimaces* Your comments really mean a lot to me, guys, because admittedly I'm a bit insecure when it comes to this story.
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
See you all in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
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What Remains