Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: If you haven't had the chance already, check out Freedom Bound in Chains- fanart by pixi56 on AO3. The art is amazing! It's so awesome to see my words come to life. XD
THANK YOU, PIXI56!
Interlude
Lucius lifted his head as he heard his wife quietly enter the room. He did not acknowledge her presence. She had made it clear they would be separated until Lucius came to an accord with their son. It still felt like a sword through the gut, however, but fortunately they didn't have to wait long in the awkward silence.
As the fire flared, Lucius stood from this slouched position and schooled his features as he watched an elderly wizard with a cane step from the floo on Iason's arm.
“Lucius, this is my father, Cyrus Greengrass. He is renowned for his ability in the Mind Arts and healing.”
“Thank you for coming, Lord Greengrass,” Lucius said graciously and bowed.
The old man's green eyes were fogged with age, but they still seemed to pierce right through Lucius. “I warn you now, Malfoy, I am not certain I will be of help,” Cyrus told him in a gruff tone. “I can cure a mind effected by spell and potion, but Iason made it clear the boy suffers from neither. True memories are a different matter entirely.”
Lucius stared at the old healer, expression hard. “My son needs healing. I'm certain you will manage to find a way to grant it to him. As for the difficultly of the task, you will be justly compensated for your efforts.”
Cyrus shook his head. White hair pulled back into a low ponytail, face lined with wrinkles, he must have been one hundred years old at least. “Let me see the boy.”
“First, I would have your vow,” Lucius countered.
The next few minutes were spent with Cyrus and Lucius twining their magic in a Vow that required Cyrus not to reveal Draco's secrets to anyone other than the Malfoys and Iason.
“Would you like to follow me?” Narcissa asked politely.
She led them down the hallway and to the sitting room. Cyrus settled with a creak of old bones into one of the padded armchairs. He set his cane between his legs and folded his hands on top of it while they waited for Dobby to fetch the boys. Iason remained at his father's side, Lucius stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, and Narcissa sat on a couch.
Draco stepped in, suspicion written all over his guarded features. Harry stood at his back, fingers clinging to Draco's shirt. It was Narcissa who introduced the boys to the old healer.
“Draco, Harry, this is Iason's father, Cyrus Greengrass, Head of the Greengrass family. He's a very special healer who can help prevent what happened at the Ministry.”
Draco lifted an eyebrow and met the old man's faded green eyes. “What're you gonna do exactly?”
“I'm going to look into your head and get a feel for what's going on,” Cyrus answered calmly. He seemed unfazed by talking directly with a child, unlike Iason.
“Will it hurt?” Draco asked. Harry's hand tightened around his shirt.
“It shouldn't. You will be able to feel my presence, and it will be uncomfortable at first, but the more we work together, the more that will go away.”
Draco smiled, eyes cold. “I meant, will it hurt you.”
Cyrus's bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I assure you, I'm well versed in defending my mind.”
Draco shrugged. Never taking his eyes off the old man, he said in his mind, * Harry, go sit with Narcissa, okay? * Out loud, he said, “You're just looking. You're not gonna do anything without talking to me first?”
“Of course.” Cyrus handed his cane to his son, and Iason took it with care. The old wizard held his hands out. “Come. Let's see what I'm working with here.”
Harry obediently went and sat with Narcissa. She smiled at him and put her arm around his slender shoulders, letting him lean into her side. Draco, meanwhile, marched up to the old wizard and stood directly in front of him. His grey eyes met Cyrus's as the gnarled fingers lifted to his temples. Everyone in the room watched anxiously as the two simultaneously closed their eyes.
Green leaves and tress and vines pressing in all around him. Moist heat. Screams of an animal dying. The smell of blood and fresh rain. Eyes staring hungrily from shadows. Trying to push through green, leafy vegetation. Slick vines tangling arms and legs. The sting as insects bit at him. The searing burn of venom. Something stalking him. Feel it shake the bushes, knowing it was coming for him.
Harry watched like a hawk, tensed and ready to throw himself between the wizard and Draco if necessary. A minute went by. The white head twitched. Then the old man's shoulder gave a jerk. Iason frowned and Lucius stepped away from the window, moving closer to his son.
Suddenly, Cyrus jerked back as if pushed. His eyes flew open, wild and dilated. He immediately turned to the side and vomited. Narcissa gasped. She tried to hold onto Harry, but the boy was gone and standing at Draco's side. Lucius studied his son's face carefully. He was sweating, but his eyes were clear and he seemed otherwise unaffected.
“I don't think you can help me,” Draco stated wryly, lips turned up. “Come on, Harry.” Taking Harry's hand, he turned and left the room.
Lucius stood frozen, heart pounding as he watched Iason kneel and tend to his ill father. Narcissa called Lottie and had cold water delivered. She also offered to send for potions, but Iason declined, his wand twirling around his father.
It took fifteen minutes b3fore the vomiting and dry heaves stopped. Cyrus sat pale in the chair, leaning heavily on his cane. “That boy's mind...” he rasped and shook his head. “He needs help, but it is not healing he needs. He needs a Master Occlumens. There is only one who has the skill to tame that boy's mind. Only one student who surpassed me in Occlumency. I've been sworn to secrecy by both of you, but I can contact him and persuade him to come. It will be up to you to explain the situation and convince him to mentor your son.” Milky green eyes lifted and stared hard at Lucius, pressing his point home. “It's the boy's only chance or his mind will keep attacking itself, eventually driving him mad.”
Lucius held the old wizard's eyes. “I understand,” he told him solemnly. “We appreciate your support. I will, of course, pay for your services today.”
“Can you tell us what you saw?” Narcissa asked, voice hushed. She sat with her hands clasped tightly together, her eyes a little too wide.
Cyrus stared at the far wall, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. “The boy's mind is seething with memories and emotions. His will is exceedingly strong and gives his mind teeth. It's a jungle of smothering vines, darkness, and poisonous creatures, but his mind is alive and rich, the landscape so vivid. I've never seen the like! The violence there...” Tears fell heedlessly down Cyrus's face. “I cannot imagine what shaped a child's mind into that... that chaos. Nor do I wish to try. I will contact my former student. I wish him better luck than I. Come, Iason.”
…
Hours had gone by, Lucius and Narcissa separating to digest what had occurred with Lord Greengrass. Now they were both standing the ballroom, tutoring the boys in dance.
Narcissa watched the boys glide across the floor. It never failed to bring tears to her eyes, the way Harry just seemed to melt into Draco's arms and the way Draco held Harry so carefully as he guided them effortlessly across the floor.
She turned her head to see Lucius watching the boys, as well. Tension around his eyes and mouth revealed his anxiety, and she felt her heart soften. Slowly, she reached out to capture his hand in hers. His was cold, and she squeezed it gently.
“Lucius, talk to him. Tell him how you feel. You must break this wall between you or we will not make it as a family. Please, Lucius,” she begged.
Lucius closed his eyes for a long moment before he lifted their clasped hands to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers, turned, and left the ballroom.
Narcissa pressed her hands together, trying to forget the feeling of his lips so soft against her skin. Anger and grief surged through her chest, and it took all her strength to keep it from her face. Why did he have to be so bloody stubborn? Draco had returned to them! Why were they still so splintered?
…
The next day at breakfast, Lucius was unable to eat. His wife's words would not leave him. The memory of a powerful healer vomiting after seeing his son's mind and Draco's cool smirk afterward haunted him. As soon as he saw that Draco was mostly done with his breakfast, he tapped his nail against his glass. The clear chime brought everyone's eyes to him.
“I would speak to you in private, Draco,” he said calmly, ignoring the hope that surged into Narcissa's face.
Draco tilted his head, expression lazy. It was clear he did not see Lucius as a threat. “What about?”
Lucius said nothing, holding Draco's eyes and waiting.
Draco sighed. “Fine.” He pushed up from the table and left the room.
Lucius stood and followed him. Instead of the sitting room, Draco went to the parlor. The boy went to the chair next to the bar and sat, kicking his legs. He gestured at one of the decanters on top as Lucius came to stand across from him.
“Looks like you could use a drink,” Draco snarked.
Lucius felt his lips twitch. His son's audacity and strength was impressive, but Lucius's humor didn't last long as the realities of the situation returned to him. “A magical core specialist will come in a few hours. They will not look into your mind. Instead, they will measure your magic and the bond between you and Potter.”
Draco's expression went blank. “No.”
Lucius sighed and stepped up to the bar, pouring a drink as Draco had so kindly suggested. “Draco, it is not your bond that is under question.” He took his glass and turned, placing his hip to the bar so he could face his son. “Potter spoke Parseltongue and conjured a venomous snake. Those are skills only one wizard has possessed in the last century: the Dark Lord.”
Draco's cold expression crinkled, eyes narrowed. “So what's that mean?”
“I'm looking into it.” Lucius took a sip. The liquid slid down his throat like silk and warmed his stomach. “That includes hiring an expert in magical cores.”
White blond hair falling into his face, Draco's brow crinkled. Leaning forward, he looked up at his father, grey eyes curious. “What're you afraid of?”
“Potter's magic could be contaminated,” Lucius answered honestly.
Draco sat up, utterly serious. “And if it is?”
Lucius narrowed his eyes. “Then Potter is in danger and so are we.”
Getting to his feet, Draco shook his head. “I know Harry's magic. I've felt it. There's nothing wrong with it.”
“But what if there is a connection, small and hard to notice? We need to know, Draco.”
Draco hooked his bangs behind his ears. He stood for a moment in thought, ignoring the way Lucius was watching him, waiting. He wondered what Lucius knew. Did he suspect like Draco did that the Dark Lord was not dead? The idea that that monster would somehow be able to touch inside his boy made him see red.
“Alright.” He shot Lucius a hard glare. “We'll see what he says, but I'll be with Harry the entire time,” he warned and then stalked from the room.
Lucius decided to stay and finish his drink. He'd need it.
Chapter end.
A/N: I bet you can guess the 'talented student' who Lord Greengrass is talking about.
Also, it's down to the wire now. I'm going to have to commit to a Magical Core Specialist next chapter.
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Freedom Bound in Chains