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Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59823 -:- 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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9th December 1986- Morning

Consciousness seemed to hit Harry like a rock and his eyes flew open quickly, sleep suddenly seeming like a distant memory. He had just had the most curious of dreams, one which, although it bore no relation to it, reminded him chillingly of almost a year ago when he had dreamt of Narcissa's death.

Breathing in a deep breath through his nose, Harry sat up and looked around his dorm room curiously. The other two boys he shared his room with were still asleep but there was light coming in from the windows in the small room so it could not have been too early. Luckily it was a Saturday so there was no immediate panic about how late in the morning it could possibly be. Harry knew full well that he was not going to get back to sleep now so he decided it would be best to get a head start on everyone and have a wash and get dressed before they all started to get up too and hog the bathroom. He gathered his school uniform before heading out of the room and off to the bathroom, considering the dream which had woken him mere minutes ago.

Yes, it had reminded him of when he had dreamt of his godmother's death only because the dream had been another of those where it seemed so very real, almost as if it was happening and he was standing in a corner of a room watching it all take place. Thankfully, this dream had not been of anyone dying. It had shown him a rather strange scenario involving a girl that he recognised from being in the Fifth Year of the school and another person who he had never seen properly as they had never been in sight enough for him to get a decent look. In the dream, the girl and the other person had been having a friendly duel, nothing which was uncommon among the Warriors and ocassionally the Mages in the school, and the girl had got a rather nasty blow to the back from a training sword which resulted in her landing awkwardly and breaking her wrist. It was an odd sort of dream and Harry had no idea why he had seen it. After all, he did not know the girl personally, was unaware even of her name. Yet he had dreamt of her getting hurt.

If he was not as modest and humble as he was, he might have recognised the dream for what it really was.

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9th December 1986- Afternoon

"I don't see why we all have to watch this." Marcia sighed dejectedly as she stared down at her fingers which were twiddling together in her lap.

Harry sat between his two friends, Marcia and Rhys, on one of the simple benches which surrounded the edges of the Dueling Hall. It was the last week of school before they all went home to celebrate Nirhy, or in Harry's case Christmas as well, and, in keeping with the tradition of the season, the small school had gathered in the hall to watch the Warriors and Mages from the top two years take part in duels. Such duels were symbolic of the Battle of Nirhy in which Saint Nirhy lost her life and became one of the Three Elders along with the Great Lady gaining her divinity as well. The duels themselves were, of course, no contact and were kept within the year groups; the Sixth Years only dueled with other Sixth Years and the Seventh Years only dueled with the other Seventh Years. At the end of the day, there would be four winners, two from each year and two Mages and two Warriors.

Currently, there were two male Sixth Years dueling in the centre of the hall, one with a wooden training sword and the other with a wooden training staff. Every so often, a spattering of polite applause would come after a particularly well done move was performed by either boy. Everyone in the hall, students and teachers alike, seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly apart from Harry and his two friends. Harry himself found it all rather boring, Marcia found it disturbing, and Rhys did not seem to care enough to have an opinion, he merely sat reading one of his many spell books.

"Just because you're a pacifist doesn't mean everyone has to be." Rhys reminded quietly in his usual cold tone, his eyes never leaving the thick, dusty tome resting in his lap.

"Well excuse me for not seeing the appeal of clobbering my fellow man with a stick." The silver-haired girl muttered, lifting her right hand so she could prop her head up in the palm of her hand.

"You'll have to do it one day." Harry reminded reasonably in a whisper. "When you carry on to study for becoming a High Priestess you'll have to learn how to use a sword and when I study for my High Priesthood I'll have to learn how to use Calim(1) magic."

The girl wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I try not to think about that. Doesn't it bother you, Haryon?"

"What? The thought of one day having to learn how to use a weapon?"

"Yeah, and, well, the thought that, one day, you'll be expected to fight someone, to break your vow."

"The vow isn't for total pacifism; you won't be breaking anything." Rhys pointed out suddenly.

"And we'll never be expected to fight, that's why we're members of the Priesthood rather than being Warriors or Mages. I've always just thought of it as needing a way to protect ourselves as we grow stronger so that we're not so much of a burden to others." Harry explained just as a loud applause filled the hall, signaling that the end of the duel had been reached.

The three friends joined in dutifully even though they had no idea who it was that had actually won as the two boys left the floor and the next pair stood. Harry suddenly froze mid-clap as a cold sensation of deja-vu washed through him. The two who were getting ready to duel next, one of them was the Fifth Year girl who Harry had seen in his dream that morning.

"Isn't she a Fifth Year?" Harry asked quickly, craning his head to try and get a better look.

"Master Argo believes she's the most talented warrior the school's seen in years and decided she should compete to test just how competent she is." Rhys explained, taking a quick glance at the girl merely to see who it was his friend was talking about.

"But...But she's only a Fifth Year! She can't possibly..." Harry protested, trailing off uselessly as he tried to make sense of the situation at the same time as the memory of his dream swirled around his head.

"Why do you care?" The long haired boy asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting his eyes from his book again.

"Don't be so callous, Rhys!" Marcia scolded in a rare moment of confidence. "Haryon is simply showing concern for his fellow man as any decent human being, let alone an Apprentice to the Priesthood, should."

A retort from Rhys was offered but Harry ignored it, all his attention fixed firmly on the duel. He could not shake the foreboding feeling that something was going to happen. The way he felt was confusing. It was so much more than just anxiety because of the idea of the girl getting hurt; it was actual dread because he really, truly, honestly, expected it to happen. Only, another part of him did not expect it. It had only been a dream after all. Part of him, the logical and modest part, continued to insist over and over again that it had just been a dream while another part, a part he could not control nor tell to go away was telling him that his dream was about to come true and he should stop the duel before it happened.

But then it did happen. A shocked gasp came from all sides of the room with the harsh crack of the training sword hitting the poor girl's back and then there was silence until her body landed on the crash mat heavily and a cry forced its way out of her mouth. Teachers were rushing towards the pained girl in seconds and the boy had already gone to aid her carefully. Shocked chatter began as soon as the girl had been helped to her feet and the fear of too serious damage having been done was over. It all washed over Harry though as he continued to stare at the spot where the girl had fallen.

His dream had come true, it had happened just like he had seen it. He could not quite believe it; surely it had to be a coincidence. The dream, the sense of deja-vu, the anticipation of it happening; all of it just had to be a coincidence. He could not have foreseen it. Someone like him could not be a Seer. Seers were great people, they were powerful, they were wise, they were not abandoned by their families when they were only a few hours old.

"Haryon? Are you all right?" Marcia's worried voice broke through his thoughts as she gently rested a hand on his arm. "You've gone awfully pale."

Harry's jaw raised and lowered a couple of times silently before finally words started to come out as he forced himself to forget his shock. "I'm fine. It's just...It was just..." The dark haired boy shook his head a couple of times as he trailed off, unsure of how to explain exactly what he was feeling at that moment.

"I understand, Haryon. Seeing someone hurt so badly is a very traumatic thing, especially for someone as pious and caring as you." The girl gushed, her tone full of awe and respect, as she stood up, taking Harry's arm as she did. "Come on, we'll go back to the common room and have some tea; it'll help soothe your nerves."

Still keeping his attention on where the accident had taken place, Harry did not pass comment at his friend's embarrassing words or the fact that she was mothering him horribly. He allowed himself to be led along silently, his gaze eventually turning from the centre of the hall only to be caught by his headmaster, High Priest Sephiran. The man's gaze seemed partly questioning and also partly knowing at the same time in a way which made Harry feel oddly bare and self-conscious. He did not lower his gaze though, unsure of whether looking away would be taken with offense on the part of the older man.

However, after only a moment or so, it was the High Priest who looked away first as he turned his attention to another teacher who was talking to him. Harry never took his curious gaze off of Sephiran though, not until he really had to when he was pulled out of the hall and a wall cut of his line of sight. He had the distinct impression that the High Priest knew something about the dream and what had happened, he just was not sure why or how he felt that way.

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18th December 1986: Afternoon

Harry smiled happily as walked down Diagon Alley swiftly, hand in hand with his father. It was rather chilly out, there was no snow but it was certainly cold enough for it, but the dark haired boy was actually feeling rather over-heated. He had so many layers of thick clothing on as well as a scarf, wooly hat and gloves, and what with having to keep up with the long strides of the dark man at his side he was retaining his body heat just a little too well. It was not too bad though and he did not want to make a fuss by pulling his hand from his father's in order to pull off his gloves so he just ignored it, enjoying the situation and the time he was spending with his guardian after several long months of separation.

There was no great occasion to their being out together. The amount of mistletoe in Severus' personal potion stores had "mysteriously" dwindled at the beginning of the holiday period and the Potions professor wanted to replace them as soon as possible despite the fact he had no immediate use for them. Harry had noticed that the man was like that though; it was just one of those little oddities that some people had about strange, seemingly insignificant things.

As they approached the Apothecary where the man always got the ingredients for his own personal use, Harry noticed the Quidditch supply store where the latest model of broom was on proud display in the window. His eyes immediately latched onto it and remained on it for several more moments before he plucked up the courage to speak. "Father?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I go look at the latest racing broom while you go to the Apothecary please?" He asked quickly, looking up at the man beside him. "I won't wander off, I promise, I'll just stay there until you come back out."

Severus glanced down at his son out of the corner of his eye, not moving his head in the least. He slowed them down as he considered it and upon noticing the pleading expression on the young boy's face, he knew there was no point in trying to convince himself that he could say no. "Very well but remember what I've told you before."

"Don't speak to any strangers and if anyone tries to do anything, scream bloody murder." Harry recalled previous warnings, smiling up gratefully.

"I don't remember quite phrasing it like that, but yes." His father said, sounding mildly amused. "I'll see you in a few minutes then."

"All right." Harry nodded just before his hand was released and he was allowed to scamper off over to the shop window.

When he reached the shop, he took a moment to glance over his shoulder to where his father had been standing just in time to see the man disappear through the door into the Apothecary store. He smiled to himself slightly, feeling proud that his father had enough trust in him to allow him this privilege.

Turning to the shop window right in front of him, Harry immediately began to admire the latest model of broom which was on display. He really liked flying, it was probably his favourite hobby, and he quite liked to watch and play Quidditch though not half as much as Draco did and thanks to Lucius, he was not short on brooms. It was his godfather's self-made tradition that he bought Harry the latest model of broom on his birthday every year whether he needed a new broom or not. To himself, Harry thought that it was a bit wasteful but he was grateful for the gesture none-the-less and he cherished each and every broom he owned.

After a few minutes of ogling the broom, Harry glanced around himself curiously, merely to see who was milling about. It was rather crowded in Diagon Alley that morning though it was not really too surprising; with only a week left until Christmas day, there was probably more than a few wizards and witches who had some last minute gifts to buy. Harry never understood why people put such things off until the very last minute. After all, neither his father or godfather left buying presents that late; he remembered quite clearly the year when he and Draco had been four and the blond boy had excitedly shown him a treasure trove of gifts in his parents' room in the middle of September.

Harry was about to turn back to admire the broom in the window again when something, or more accurately someone, caught his eye. Over to his right, a couple of feet away from him, was a little girl, probably about four or five, with long, dark reddish hair left to hang loose down her back, looking rather lost. She was not crying but she did look rather intimidated and unsure of herself and her surroundings. Her right hand was held over her mouth in a little fist and Harry felt a small pang of sympathy for her. Judging the distance between him and the girl as being not too far away and his father would still be able to see him if he came out to get him, he moved away from the store window and carefully approached the bemused looking girl.

"Excuse me?" He asked gently and the little girl looked up at him with wide, slightly panicked eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I-I can't find my mummy or daddy." The girl told him uncertainly, looking around herself quickly before looking back up at Harry with wide, chocolate brown eyes which sparkled with un-shed tears.

Harry felt a small swell of sympathy for the child's situation and he gave her an encouraging, hopeful smile. "When did you last see them?"

"Just a moment ago." The girl told him shyly. "My mummy was looking at the display in Madame Malkins while my daddy was talking to a friend of his. I saw a stray kitten and I only wanted to stroke it so I went over to it but it ran away and then when I looked back at Madame Malkins my mummy and daddy were gone..." She trailed off sadly, her voice filling with tears.

"Aww, no, don't cry, I'm sure they'll find you soon." Harry reassured quickly, resting a hand on the girl's shoulder and ducking down a bit so he was more her height. "And until they come, you can keep me company while I wait for my father, okay?"

The girl nodded and gave a small sniff of agreement.

"My name's Haryon."

"I'm Violet." The little girl replied, giving a small, watery smile of her own.

"That's a pretty name."

"My mummy gave it to me so that our names would match; she's named after a flower too." Violet told Harry enthusiastically, the tears suddenly gone in the blink of an eye. "Does your name mean anything?"

"Yes, it means "prince" in Elvish, my father gave me it in honour of my grandmother; her last name was Prince before she married my grandfather."

"Didn't your mummy get a say in what your name was going to be?"

Harry hesitated a moment, his smile fading slightly. However, he quickly forced himself to recover and his smile reappeared mere seconds later. "I've never had a mother; it's always just been me and my father."

"But I thought everyone had a mummy?"

"Well, I suppose I do have a mother but I've never met her. She didn't want me you see so my father took me in."

"I bet my mummy would want you!" Violet gasped suddenly, sounding excited. ""Then you could be my big brother!"

"That's kind of you to offer, Violet, but I'm happy with my father."

"Are you sure? I can ask her when she comes and finds me."

"I'm sure, but thank you anyway."

"Violet!" A woman's voice suddenly interrupted and both Harry and the little girl turned to look in the direction the voice had come from. A pretty young woman with long, glossy red hair similar to Violet's and amazingly green eyes was hurrying up to them, looking rather frantic.

"Mummy!" Violet cried happily, rushing up to the woman and throwing herself into her arms.

"Oh Violet, how could you wander off like that? It's not safe for you to go around by yourself." The woman scolded lightly as she held her daughter tightly, cradling the back of the small head in one hand.

"No, no, it was all right, I had Haryon with me." Violet argued, pulling away from the embrace in order to go back to Harry and pull him further towards her mother. Upon seeing him, the woman's eyes widened and her face paled drastically as though she had seen a ghost. Although Harry noticed her reaction, he was not sure what to make of it so he simply ignored it, hoping it was nothing too important.

"It's nice to meet you." He said politely, holding out his hand for the woman to shake. That movement seemed to shake the woman out of her stupor and she reached forward slowly, not taking her shocked gaze off of him.

"I-I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" Violet's mother stammered.

"Haryon Snape." Harry answered which only seemed to confuse her more.

"Snape?" She echoed.

"Haryon?" The deep voice of his father came then, as if on cue. Harry and the two females turned to see Severus approaching them.

"Father." The boy greeted the man with a soft smile. "Did you get the mistletoe?"

"It's being delivered." He answered in a monotone, not looking at his son in favour of staring at the woman with hard eyes. "Evans." He greeted her cooly.

"Lily!" Another call suddenly came and everyone once again turned to see who had spoken. A man with short, unruly black hair and glasses ran up to them, coming to stop by the woman's and Violet's side. "Oh thank goodness, you found her. I was getting worried." He panted, stooping over slightly with his hands on his hips as he tried to catch his breath.

"Why am I not surprised that you of all people, Potter, cannot even properly look after a child." Severus sneered and Harry's eyes widened slightly in surprise; Potter, he recognised that name from somewhere.

"Snape?" The other man asked, sounding distasteful. "What are you doing here?"

"Apparently my son saw fit to look after your daughter while you and your wife were off amusing yourselves."

"You have a son?" Potter asked, sounding half disbelieving and half amused.

"I didn't even know you were married." Lily put in quickly, seeming suddenly more at ease, as she nudged her husband's side as a silent command for him to behave himself.

"I'm not."

"I'm adopted." Harry told them as he took hold of the man's large hand once again, making sure that his tone was strong and confident so that it conveyed his pride that his father had wanted him. That seemed to un-nerve Lily again and she paled once more.

"We have better things we could be doing rather than standing here talking to the likes of you." Severus said abruptly, drawing the meeting to a close as he went to pull Harry away.

However, before they had moved too far, Harry dropped his father's hand again and quickly stepped right up to James Potter. Before anyone quite knew what was happening, the dark haired boy had lifted his right leg and brought the heel of his foot crashing down into the man's foot with as much force as he could manage. It was obviously quite a lot of force because the man let out a slightly strangled cry and immediately flinched away from the harsh contact.

"That was for everything you've ever done to my father." He told him with a light frown before hurrying back to his father and taking his hand again. The two left the other family rather quickly then, Lily trying to calm down her enraged husband while Violet seemed unsure what to feel.

When Severus and his son were a short distance away and there was enough crowd between them and the other family, they slowed their pace drastically. Harry braced himself for the scolding that he was so sure was coming but, after a few moments, it still had not come. The young boy looked up at his father to see that usually sombre and stoic man's face alive with a small smirk and his black eyes shining with amusement.

"I have waited so many years to see something like that happen to James Potter." He told the boy with a slight, deep chuckle.

"I shouldn't have done it really." Harry sighed regretfully, dropping his gaze to the ground. "Technically, it was an act of violence out of anger..." He stopped talking when he felt a finger underneath his chin, tilting his face back up to look at the older man straight in the eyes.

"I think your goddess would forgive you this one time if you asked her." Severus reassured his son with a small quirk of his lips which qualified as a smile for him. Harry found himself smiling back, spurred on by seeing his father unusually happy. He was rewarded with a kiss on the corner of his mouth before Severus straightened up again. "Come then brat." He said affectionately as he gave his son's arm a small pull. "You've stirred up quite enough fuss for one day; it's time we got back."

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(1) Calim - Based on LotR Elvish for "light"
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Family Means More Than Blood