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
- 4
- 5
- 6
23rd December 1986: Afternoon

"Merry Christmas!" Draco greeted Harry and Severus excitedly as they arrived through the front door of Malfoy Manor.

"Merry Christmas." Harry replied a little more calmly as his best friend launched himself into his arms in a tight hug. "Merry Christmas, Uncle Lucius." He greeted the tall, blond man as he entered from a side door.

"Merry Christmas, Haryon, and a joyous Nirhy as well." Lucius returned the greeting, adding on the last part in repsect of his godson's religion. "Merry Christmas, Severus." The man greeted his own best friend and they gave each other a warm hand shake. He looked around himself curiously. "Where are your things?"

"Dobby collected them as soon as we made it into the grounds." Severus answered as they released each others hands and he started to remove his scarf and cloak. "That house-elf is far too excitable for his own good, especially when he's around my son." With that he glanced over to Harry and Draco who were both taking off Harry's winter clothes.

"He's nice." Harry insisted, pulling his wooly hat off as Draco worked on the fastening of his cloak. "And he's a living creature; he deserves some respect."

Lucius raised a slightly amused eyebrow at the dark haired man standing beside him. "A house-elf deserving respect?" He spoke in a low tone, meaning to not be over-heard by his son or godson. However, Harry had learnt long ago that sometimes eavesdropping on Lucius's and Severus' conversations was necessary in order to know just exactly what was going on in all of their lives.

"It's that blasted school he goes to." Severus grunted in his own defense. "They've filled his head with so much pacifism tripe that he'd pray for forgiveness if he so much as accidently stepped on an ant let alone purposely treat a house-elf like a servant."

"He'd never make a decent Death Eater then."

"And that is exactly why I haven't pulled him out. I rather he had clear, defined, though rather extreme views on what's right and wrong and remain safe rather than have mixed views and end up making the same mistakes as us." His father told the other man as Harry and Draco started on his shoes, Harry still keeping the better part of his concentration on the conversation.

"I wish I could turn the clock back and do the same for Draco."

"What do you tell him about the Dark Lord now?"

"I don't. I get the house-elves to keep him busy while we attend meetings and I never mention it anymore. He knows it's because of the Dark Lord that Narcissa is no longer with us and he knows why she's no longer with us...I don't know if he understands completely yet though."

"He will in time."

"Yes, I suppose."

"Do you know if he takes after his mother yet?" Severus enquired and that piqued Harry's interest.

"There are no signs yet, he's still too young really."

"What will you do if he does?"

"Harry!" Draco said in a raised tone, jabbing the dark haired boy in the ribs sharply and also catching the attention of the two adults.

"Ow! What was that for?" Harry pouted, rubbing the sore spot which now pulsed just underneath his ribs.

"I've been trying to get your attention for ages now!" The blond revealed, sounding very put out. "Why were you ignoring me?"

"Oh, erm, sorry, I was just, uh, I was just lost in thought I suppose." The dark haired boy said awkwardly, very aware that the two men in the entrance hall were now listening to them. He knew it was now very unlikely that they would continue their conversation as before so he had no reason to try and get out of the on-coming conversation with his best friend. "So what was it that you wanted?"

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

23rd December 1986: Night

Light brown hair, dark brown eyes, a black cloak. Intense fear, panic, desperation, helplessness.

It was dark and cold again, cold everywhere, and enclosed too, once again not with bindings but within a circle of people wearing the same black cloaks and the same masks on their faces making them all look the same; clones, each as unfeeling as the next. It was not as confused as before. He could make out exactly where He was; a stone room, looked a bit like a dungeon, and He knew for sure this time that He was not the one who was fearing for his life. No, that was the one who was in the centre of the man-made circle, surrounded by friends turned enemies. He may not have been in fear for His life but He was still afraid.

He could feel everything that the poor man, beaten and limp on the floor, could feel. All the emotions, all the desperation and regret and also an odd sort of ache which did not quite hurt but it was not in the least bit comfortable either. There was a cruel, hissing voice talking but it sounded muffled, as though He was listening from under water, and He could only manage to catch the odd word or sentence here and there:

"...Traitor..."

"Did you think you'd get away with it?"

"Let this be a lesson to all of you who stand here..."

"...Not be disappointed again."

"Crucio!"

It was all so horrible and He could feel tears well up in His eyes in sympathy for poor man. He covered His mouth with His hand to stop a shuddered breath; He did not think He was visible to the others in the room but He did not want to take the chance. The other people, how could they just stand there as someone was being tortured so cruelly, both physically and mentally? Why did none of them help if only to stop the screaming?

The person speaking, the one with the hissing voice, stepped into His view, closer to the tortured man in the middle of the circle. The new person wore a loose black robe, much more flowing and a lot longer than anyone else in the area. There was no mask on the man's face; a face that looked remarkably snake-like, with two glowing, red eyes; He knew those eyes only too well.

The snake man looked down at the brown haired man with a disgusted expression on his face before he raised the wand in his right hand and aimed it down at the heap at his feet. However, there were a pause then as a different muffled voice came. Whatever he was saying was not doing any good as the red-eyed man just glared down at the person at his feet angrily. With a sharp motion of the left leg, the snake-man kicked the man on the floor in the face, right underneath the chin, and He winced from His position at the side at the sound of the sickening crunch of a broken bone.

More furious, hissed words from the snake-man which He could not quite make out. Then, his wand was aimed at the quivering man on the floor and two words rang out clearly; two words that He recognised with a gasped sob:

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry woke up with a slightly strangled sounding cry, his arms flailing around him as he wrestled with the heavy duvet which blanketed him. He looked around himself slightly wildly for a few moments as his sleep-addled mind tried to work out exactly where he was and what had happened. Once reality began to sink into him again, he released a relieved sigh and allowed himself to go limp, slumping back down heavily onto the mattress below him once again.

That had been a rather disturbing dream to say the least. At least he had not felt as if he knew that person, though those red eyes one of the men had were more than a little familiar. It had felt a lot like it did when he had dreamt of Narcissa's death. Did that mean that he had just watched someone die again? Or was it just a bad dream which simply felt really, really real? Because the fact he had dreamt of his godmother's death around the time it could have possibly happened was still surely just a coincidence.

As Harry lay there, trying to calm himself down, he heard the gentle pattering of rain on glass and that helped to soothe him somewhat. But no matter how much he tried to stop himself from thinking about his dream and how hard he tried to keep himself calm though, he could not quite manage it. Memories of the dream swirled around his head and questions and possibilities would not leave him alone. It was frustrating and horrible and all he wanted was to go back to sleep and forget.

Just then, the door to his bedroom, which was kept especially for him at Malfoy Manor, cracked open slightly and a head of blond hair, which shined out even through the dark, poked around the side. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry sighed, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning over to the lamp on the bedside table beside him. With just a small tap on the glass case, the flame inside suddenly flared to life, creating enough light next to him so that once his best friend had reached the bed and climbed up on it to lay beside him, Harry could see the other boy quite clearly.

"Are you all right? I heard you cry out." Draco whispered, shifting as close to Harry as he could and peering into his eyes, as if searching for something.

"Just a bad dream; I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I could go find your father if you want."

"Really Draco, I'm fine." The Harry insisted tiredly, flopping back down.

The blond frowned lightly, rolling on top of his best friend and caging his head between his arms which he supported most of his weight on though his lower body was resting on top of Harry's, their legs tangling together comfortably. He looked down at the boy beneath him intently for a few seconds before giving a huff and easing his weight off of his arms and onto Harry, resting his head on the chest beneath him and curling his silk-covered arms around his waist. Harry released a small sigh and brought his right hand to rest on Draco's back while the other was thrown out to his side.

The number of hugs and cuddles that the two boys shared had spiked dramatically ever since that afternoon shortly after Narcissa's death, not that Harry was complaining; he quite liked his close relationship with his best friend. They now often greeted each other with open arms and having a bit of a cuddle at some point during the day had become a regular ocurance. Sometimes they sat and cuddled, sometimes they lay down, like they were at that moment. Sometimes it was Draco who did the holding, sometimes it was Harry and sometimes they held each other. Neither of the boys saw any harm in the affection they showed each other now but their fathers obviously felt different than they did.

It had not taken long for the two men to notice the new-found closeness of their two sons and, although they had not come straight out and forbidden them from doing it anymore, they had both taken turns to explain to their respective sons that showing such affection towards another person who was not married to you was not the thing to be done. Neither boy really understood why this was the case or what harm they were doing by enjoying the ocassional cuddle with each other but Harry was more than willing to give it up if that was what his father really wanted him to do. Draco on the other hand was less than co-operative and had stubbornly ignored his father. He had persuaded Harry that they were doing nothing wrong but had compromised to being more discreet in the future. That was the reason they still hugged each other in greeting but left cuddles such as the one they were tangled up in at that moment to times when they knew there was no chance of them being disturbed.

Harry was wonderfully warm and comfortable now and he felt his eyelids growing heavier by the second. He let out a small yawn, turning his head away from the direction his best friend's head was in. His head remained in that position even once the yawn was done and his eyes drifted shut, sleep once again coming to him. However, before he could fully fall asleep, Draco moving on his stomach woke him up once again.

"Hey Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm thirsty."

"That's nice." Harry mumbled, snuggling into his pillows a little more.

"Do you wanna come down to the kitchens and get some hot chocolate? It'll help take your mind off your nightmare as well."

"Do I actually have a choice?" The half asleep boy sighed, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Didn't think so." Harry murmured, opening his eyes before closing them again and rubbing them with his finger-tips. "Come on then." He agreed as he motioned for Draco to get off of him to allow him to get up.

The blond beamed a triumphant grin at him before rolling off and getting to his feet. The dark haired boy rose at a more leisurely pace, arching his back to stretch it before swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he could stand. Side by side, the two boys headed out of the bedroom and down the corridor towards where the stairs were. They chatted about inconsequential things such as Quidditch, whether it would snow this year and what they were going to do in the morning. The easy, happy conversation continued all the way across the corridor and down the stairs and it only stopped, for Harry at least, when they left the final step.

He heard it before he saw it; a sort of wailing, screeching, mournful cry that echoed off the bare floors and walls making it sound all the eerier. Then, the source of the noise made itself known and the breath caught in Harry's voice. It was a man, a man with light brown hair, dark brown eyes and dressed in the black cloak and he was neither walking nor running; he was flying. He looked just like the man Harry had seen in his dream a mere couple of dozen minutes ago and he looked just as alive and healthy as any person. In fact, if it were not for the fact he was darting through the air like a bird, he would quite easily believe that it was a living, breathing person.

"Why have you stopped?" Draco asked curiously as he turned to look at his best friend from his position a couple of feet away.

Harry opened his mouth, intending to ask how Draco could not see the flying man who was racing towards them, but before any sound could leave his mouth, the man flew right through his chest. The horrible, cold feeling of wrongness ran through him and his ears instantly began to ring, his vision started to go dark and his whole body shook with the sudden effort it suddenly took to keep himself standing. It was not as overwhelming as it had been when he had tried to touch Narcissa that time almost two years previously but it was far from easy to handle. He sagged forward suddenly and if it was not for the quick reflexes of Draco, he would have crumpled to the floor uselessly.

"Harry!" The blond gasped worriedly as he grabbed his best friend around the waist.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to dispel the faintness which was making it hard to keep lucid. He tried to pull himself together enough to assure the other boy that he was fine but he could not quite get his voice box to work. After a few moments, just when he was starting to feel better, the sound of many footsteps on stone floor reached him and he felt the arms around him tense suddenly.

"Oh no..." Draco breathed as he tightened his arms around Harry but he otherwise did not move.

"What?" Harry managed to get out as he lifted his head to look where Draco was looking. Through slightly hazy vision, emerald green eyes locked with ruby red ones on the other side of the entrance hall. His blood froze as he immediately recognised who it was.

"The Dark Lord..." Draco whispered, sounding half awed and half terrified.

Harry was unable to tear his eyes away from the Dark Lord and, strangely enough, the man seemed to be in no rush to look away from him either. In fact, the man seemed to be studying him, as if trying to figure something out. Considering who it was doing the staring, it was incredibly un-nerving and Harry wished dearly to his Great Lady that the man would turn his gaze away.

"Draco?" Lucius's voice suddenly came and the two young boys turned to look at where the older Malfoy was entering the room as he pushed his hood down and took off his mask. In step with him was Severus who also removed his mask and pulled down his hood. Upon seeing the condition of his son, the ebony haired man moved towards them but was stopped abruptly by a long, black cloaked arm being held out in front of him.

Voldemort gave Severus no acknowledgement despite the fact he had just stopped the man in his tracks. He continued to stare at Harry for a couple more seconds before he lowered his arm and started forward towards the two boys, his eyes never leaving the dark haired one who was still struggling not to collapse. Upon reaching the boys, his gaze finally left Harry only to move to Draco for a brief time as he addressed him:

"Go to your father, boy." Voldemort ordered Draco.

Draco's gaze flickered over to his father but he did not move despite the fact his muscles were tense as if in preparation to move. The snake-like man standing above them wavered between amusement and annoyance at the defiance and eventually decided to go with annoyance.

"Go to your father, boy, before I make you go to him." He ordered once again, his tone taking on a slightly threatening quality to it.

The aggression worked and after another second's worth of hesitation, Draco carefully pulled his arms away from his best friend and hurried over to where his father and godfather were standing. He was immediately pulled against the older blond; steady, reassuring hands coming down to rest on the small shoulders, a total contradiction to how the eldest Malfoy was actually feeling. He exchanged a discreet, nervous glance with Severus who stood beside him. The naturally pale man looked twice as pale as normal and seemed unable to take his eyes off of where the Dark Lord had his back to them all and was knelt down to his son's level, long fingers gripping the young boy's arms securely.

Harry wanted to pull away. He wanted to pull away and rush over to his father where he would be safe and far away from this horrible, awful man. He was having enough trouble staying upright though, there was no way he would be able to get out of the Dark Lord's grip and make it over to where his father was. Lifting his head, Harry looked up at the Dark Lord to find the older man with an oddly kind expression on his face.

"Hello there." Voldemort said in a low voice which was no doubt not heard by the Death Eaters on the other side of the entrance hall who were watching the interaction intensely. "Do you know who I am?"

Harry nodded carefully. "You're the Dark Lord."

"Yes, that's right." Voldemort confirmed gently, that kind expression still on his face. "You're Snape's son, aren't you?"

Harry nodded again.

"What's your name?"

"Haryon."

"Ah, yes, a fitting name. You certainly posses the grace and beauty of an Elvish prince." Voldemort complimented causing a huge blush to cover Harry's face. "Tell me Haryon, what is it that's wrong? You're awfully pale and if I'm not mistaken, when I entered you seemed on the verge of passing out."

"Oh, it's nothing My Lord. Just a little dizzy spell, it'll soon pass." Harry answered easily, brushing off the concern as he did with everyone else.

"I see. Has it ever happened to you before?" The Dark Lord enquired, an odd sort of anticipation entering his tone.

"Yes, once, the afternoon that I said goodbye to Aunt Narcissa, a few months after she was murdered." The young boy answered honestly for once, his nerves preventing him from thinking of a suitable lie that that moment.

"You're Aunt Narcissa was murdered?"

Harry nodded again.

"How do you know that?" Once again the man's voice was filled with a very strange sense of anticipation, as if there was an expected answer which he wanted to hear.

"I saw it."

"Really? And did you see who it was that killed her?"

A nod in confirmation from Harry.

"Who was it?"

Harry hesitated, afraid of what the consequences of telling the truth could result in.

"Haryon, who did you see kill your godmother?" Voldemort asked again, sounding a little less patient this time.

"It was you." Harry said quietly, not letting his eyes drop from those hard, red eyes which seemed to bore into his soul. "I saw you kill my Aunt Narcissa."

To Harry's great surprise, instead of being Avada Kedavra'd or at least tortured for that admission, he was rewarded with a broad smirk from Voldemort. His red eyes lit up with a sort of triumphant happiness and his left hand, the hand which was not in sight of any of the Death Eaters, came up to cup the side of his cheek. It was a surprisingly soft hand though it was terribly cold.

"Excellent." The man whispered, leaning closer, and for one terrible second, Harry really thought that the monster of a man was going to kiss him. However, almost as soon as that thought came into his head, the Dark Lord had risen, his hand leaving his cheek, and was walking away towards the front door. "Put your son to bed immediately, Snape, and give him a potion if he has trouble falling asleep. The rest of you are dismissed; you shall be called the next time I require your presences." And with that, the doors of the manor opened by themselves and Voldemort swept out gracefully, the doors closing behind him.

No one moved or spoke for several seconds after that, not sure what to make of what had just happened. It was not until Harry's shaky legs gave way beneath him and he slumped onto the floor that people began to suddenly come back to themselves. As Severus and Draco rushed to the dark haired boy's side, Lucius expelled the other Death Eaters from his property impatiently. They would want no one to witness Harry being fussed over and interrogated over what the Dark Lord had spoken to him about.
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Family Means More Than Blood