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Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59846 -:- 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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3rd August 1987: Early Morning

A content, breathy sigh escaped Harry's lips as he curled around his pillow lazily, hovering between sleep and consciousness. He cuddled the cotton covered lump of feathers closer to himself and buried his face in it, breathing in the fresh clean scent which was a result of the spells that his father used to clean it.

If there was one material possession which the young Havanist loved above all else, it was his bed. Not the one at Saint Gwenifwar's or the one he shared with his father when he stayed at Hogwarts or the one he slept in when he stayed with Draco and his godfather, but his very own bed in his own home, a small cottage in a secluded area in the west of Wales. It was his bed and it smelt like his house and that was why he liked it. He had spent many a pleasant moment in it over the summer holidays of his life so far and despite the fact that he only slept in it for a couple of months out of the entire year, it was the only one which he really considered to be his. Hence it being his favourite.

In his lucid state, Harry rolled onto his stomach, the thin duvet which covered him bunching up around him slightly as he did so. He was so incredibly comfortable. He could quite easily lay there forever with no problems, no worries and no real thoughts...

...But then his bedroom was suddenly filled with light and the peace and comfort was ruined. Harry groaned as he woke up fully but did not open his eyes. Instead, he squinted them shut a little more tightly and pulled the duvet up and over his head.

"Harry! Wake up!"

"Draco?" Harry yawned from underneath the covers. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"You've got to get up, right now." The blond's voice insisted, the tone slightly panicked, as his hurried footsteps padded deeply on the thick carpeted floor before the sound of his wardrobe door opening came.

"Why?"

"You and your father, you both have to go to Hogwarts." The sound of rustling clothes and the scrape of leather which was probably the sound of his trunk being dragged out of the wardrobe.

"No Draco, it's only just turned August, school doesn't start for another month yet." Harry dismissed the claim, once again curling up, intending to simply go back to sleep. Seconds later though, the sheet was yanked away, exposing him to the room and the practically blinding light which filled the area. "Draco...!" He whined, curling into himself further and trying to bury his face between his arms.

"He's coming for you, Harry!"

"What?" Harry yawned again, finally opening his eyes and rubbing them before reaching over for his glasses which he had been needing to wear for a few months at that point.

"The Dark Lord, he's coming for you. My father's waking your father right now; we have to get you out of here, we don't know how long we've got." The other boy explained as he dashed back over to the wardrobe and began shoving Harry's clothes in the trunk.

"He's coming here?" Harry gasped as he got out of bed, now suddenly wide awake, his heart beginning to race with anxiety. He may have been young, only nine years old, but he was smart enough to have a good idea that Voldemort had an unhealthy interest in him. He had seen many other dreams after his encounter with the man the previous Christmas, each one a little clearer than the last and giving him a little more information. Voldemort wanted him for whatever reason and he was apparently coming for him very soon. "How do you know?"

"Father was given the order to keep you and your father here for the next day or so, to make sure that neither of you left, even for a second. Although he never said why, Father knows that it's you the Dark Lord wants." Draco explained as quickly as he could, still packing clothes.

"Won't your father get in trouble though?" Harry asked worriedly as hurried over to one of the corners in the room and pulled up where the carpet was loose, lifting up a floorboard afterwards to retrieve the rough, woven bag filled with his "treasures" that he kept there for safe-keeping.

"He's going to go back to the Dark Lord the moment you and your father are safely in Hogwarts and tell him that you were already gone when we got here." The blond answered as he stuffed Harry's school uniform into the trunk.

"Hey, be careful with those!"

"Sorry." Draco apologised distractedly before looking around the room. "Right, is there anything else you want to take with you?"

"No, I've got everything I'll want."

"Good, let's go." The other boy said, grabbing Harry's hand in one of his while he used the other to drag the trunk behind them. They left the bedroom and made their way acorss the small corridor outside to the stairs. "Father! He's all ready." Draco called as they hurried down the stairs, the trunk thumping as it fell down each step.

"Ugh, Draco, must you drag that trunk behind you like that?" Lucius scolded as he and Severus emerged from the kitchen and with a flick of his wand, he shrunk the trunk and then Accio'd over to them where Severus easily caught it and slipped it into a pocket inside his robes.

"Are you sure you have everything, Haryon? I don't know when we'll be able to come back here." Severus told his son, swiftly striding across the room to him.

"I'm sure." Harry assured, still standing next to Draco and still holding his hand.

"It's time to go then." His father told him and the young boy could only nod. Turning towards Lucius, he took his right hand in his own and held it tightly. "Be careful, warning us like this has put you in a lot of danger."

"I'll be fine. Worry about Haryon all right? He's the one who needs it." Lucius murmured his reply, squeezing Severus' hands in a reassuring manner.

Harry turned his attention away from the two adults in the room in favour of looking at his best friend. "I'll see ya soon all right?"

"Yeah, see you soon." Draco agreed before pulling the other boy into his arms tightly. "Promise you won't take any stupid risks and make sure you've got someone with a wand who you know for a fact isn't a Death Eater within calling range at all times." The young aristocrat ordered before pulling out of the embrace.

"I promise." The dark haired boy assured as they released each other completely and he was picked up by his father and settled on the man's hip. "Bye for now." He told both the Malfoys with a small wave before he and his father disappeared with a crack.

*****

1st September 1987: Evening

Harry sat beside Severus at the Head Table in the Great Hall and watched with interest as the new First Years walked in and stood at the front of the hall, ready to be sorted into their Houses. He had never seen a Hogwarts Sorting before as usually by that time he was already on his way to his own school. That had to be different for him this year though.

The hunt for Haryon Snape on behalf of the Dark Lord was now official amongst the Death Eaters and the only place safe enough for him and his father was Hogwarts. So, he would be living in it for the foreseeable future and would receive personal tuition from High Priest Sephiran who would visit for lessons every other afternoon excluding weekends. It was not an ideal situation as Harry's education would probably suffer and he was in full view of the Hogwarts population; common sense told them all that some of the students had to have parents who were Death Eaters or at least loyal to Voldemort. Harry himself was not too worried though and it was not because he was "too young" to understand the situation for what it was. In fact, he understood the situation better than anyone else.

The night he and his father had arrived at Hogwarts, he had been given a sleeping draught to calm him and to make sure he was well rested. It was while he was asleep then that he saw his dear godfather, the very man who had no doubt saved him and Severus a lot of grief, being tortured under what he had learned was the Cruciatus curse. Lucius had only been punished for failing though, not for being traitorous, so that at least meant that Voldemort was unaware that they had been warned. That was something to be thankful for. And Harry had seen dreams since then but none of them had been in any way detailed so he was not actually sure what was going on anymore.

He had tried to tell various adults about his dreams and each one did the same thing; they gave him sympathy and offered him the option of taking some Dreamless Sleep potion before he went to sleep. They thought they were simply the nightmares of a frightened and confused child. Harry was unsure whether to feel insulted by or accepting of their reactions. He resented the fact he was not being taken seriously but he was also somewhat glad; if adults did not think his dreams were anything to worry about then surely that meant they were, indeed, nothing to worry about.

Harry joined in the applause as the last new student was sorted and Professor Dumbledore stood and began to address the school's population. The old wizard had been wonderfully supportive to him and his father, giving them refuge without reserve and believing in Severus completely. All his life, Harry had been told by his father that Dumbledore was not a man they were to get too close to; respect would be shown to him but it would only be half meant. There was no need to tell the nine year old that things had changed now. It was not clear to everyone, in fact it was probably only clear to a very few, but Severus was now extremely grateful to the Headmaster to such a degree that Harry believed the man would do anything that Dumbledore asked him to. A rather dramatic change but an understandable one as the old man had given Severus what he needed in order to protect his son.

Dumbledore's voice rang out clearly as he warned First Years of the Forbidden Forest and such and, in Harry's mind, it rang out all the clearer as he introduced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who had been brought in due to the last one retiring: a Mr Peter Pettigrew. As the hall's occupants applauded for the new professor in welcome, Harry joined in half-heartedly, his finger-tips only just touching the palm of his other hand a couple of times in slow succession. There was something about the man, something other than him just being one of the horrible people who tormented his dear father so much when he was a student. Pettigrew definitely had a certain something about him which made Harry feel extremely uneasy around him, though he could not, for the life of him, put a name to what it was he felt.

Food suddenly appeared on the table from nowhere and, turning his full attention back onto Dumbledore, he realised that the speeches were over and it was time to eat. While looking over at the headmaster, he felt another's gaze on him and he shifted his eyes only slightly and he met the small, beady eyes of Peter Pettigrew, staring right at him. Harry felt a chill run through his body at the eye contact and he dropped his gaze as quickly as possible.

"Haryon? Are you alright?" His father murmured to him quietly, leaning down so he could speak in a softer tone and still be heard over the noise in the Great Hall.

"Yes Father." Harry reassured, looking up at the man sitting beside him, making sure to keep a cheerful smile on his face. He was still aware of the beady eyes which still stared so openly at him but he was determined to ignore them. Acting on the spur of the moment, the boy pecked a quick kiss on his father's cheek before giving him another smile. "I'm fine."

*****

3rd September 1987: Afternoon

"Ahh, Young Haryon, it's good to see you looking so well." The High Priest Sephiran greeted Harry happily as he entered the headmaster's office which had been kindly donated to be the setting for their lessons for however long it took to make sure Harry remained safe.

"Good afternoon, High Priest." Harry greeted respectfully, bowing his head as a slim, pale hand settled on top of it. "I hope you had a pleasant journey here."

"Oh yes, it has been quite a while since it was last necessary for me to take a journey in a wyvern-drawn carriage and I found that it's something I shall have to do more often; it was quite enjoyable." He answered as he removed his hand from his student's head and moved gracefully towards one of the two chairs which were placed either side of a small table. "Now, tell me, how have you been doing here?"

"I have no complaints, High Priest. Yes, I miss my friends and Saint Gwenifwar's but I know that it's for the best I'm here so that helps make me feel a little better."

"Good, good, I'm glad to hear it."

A silence passed over them then as the Elvish man began to remove various text books and scrolls from the beige cotton bag which hung at his side and Harry tried to pluck up the courage to bring up the subject of his dreams. Yes, he had told the adults around him but they were all wizards and witches. What if this was a divine issue? He wanted to make absolutely sure that nothing of significance was going on and the only way he could do that was to ask his teacher about it as well. He did not want to be any bother though so he was finding it quite a challenge to make himself say the words.

"High Priest?" Harry finally managed to get out, his voice thick with uncertainly.

"Yes, Young Haryon?" The man replied kindly, pausing in his adjustments of the books he had brought along.

"There's something I want to ask you about..." Harry took in a steadying breath. "I've been having dreams about Vol...The Dark Lord."

"You can speak his name; I do not fear it." Sephiran assured his student. "What happens in these dreams?"

"I see him, Voldemort, talking to his followers, though most of the time I can't make out what he or anyone else is saying, and just recently some of the people there look blurred so I can't make out what they look like. On the night Father and I arrived here, I saw him torture my godfather with the Cruciatus curse."

"I see..." The man murmured, sounding slightly surprised, no doubt in reaction to the fact that a child knew the name or such a horrible spell. "Tell me Haryon, what do these dreams feel like?"

"They feel real." Harry replied enthusiastically, relieved to finally be able to talk about this seriously and not just have it immediately passed off as just a bad dream. "Like I'm really there, like I'm awake and actually there, watching everything with my own eyes. And also, I can sometimes feel the other people who are there, their emotions and stuff."

"How long have you been having them?"

Harry hesitated a moment before looking away and mumbling his answer: "I saw him kill my Aunt Narcissa; that was the first one."

That seemed to surprise the High Priest and his eyebrows shot up slightly. A long moment of silence passed between them then before the man gave a tired sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose lightly with long, pale fingers. "Have you told anyone else?"

Harry nodded.

"And?"

"They say they're just nightmares."

Sephiran nodded slightly before they fell into silence again as he seemed to consider something.

"High Priest? Are...Are they just nightmares?"

"There is no such thing as just a nightmare, Young Haryon. Every dream, whether it's a nightmare or not, is a message from our Great Lady. It's just that, with some, those who have been Blessed, usually Priests or Priestesses, have dreams which are more than just messages and warnings. They're actual events that are viewed while asleep."

"Do you have them?"

"Yes, though I was much older than you are when I had my first. And it was nothing even half as important, just my sister playing with my niece one afternoon when I was taking a nap." He gave a soft chuckle at the memory and Harry felt a deep sense of pride that he was having such a casual conversation with who he saw as a great man. "Haryon," he said, once again serious. "The next time you have another dream like that, I want you to still tell someone; even if they just pass it off as a nightmare, they still need to know. I want you to do something else too; as soon as you wake up, I want you to write down as much of the dream as you can remember and I want you to write down everything about it: sight; sound; emotions; everything."

"All right."

"Good." The High Priest said with a kind smile, his whole presence suddenly switching back to being easy-going and relaxed. "Now, on to today's lesson..."

*****

24th September 1987: Afternoon

Harry smiled slightly as his hair was affectionately ruffled by Professor Trelawney before she moved off to her desk to write out a reply for the note he had just given her.

On days when Harry did not have any lessons, he had become the equivelant of an owl for the teachers of Hogwarts, being handed notes and then instructions to scamper off and deliver them to whatever teachers were required to read the message. He did not mind; it gave him something to do, it made him interact with other people rather than remaining locked in his father's quarters and he often received treats from the teachers he gave messages to.

As the young, green eyed boy waited for the return message which he would take back to Dumbledore, he began to wander around the classroom, taking an interest in what the students were currently doing. When he noticed a familiar head of red hair over to the back of the room, Harry made a bee-line over to the table.

"Hi Bill." He greeted the older boy as he reached the table.

Harry had met Bill Weasley on one of his first days in Hogwarts before he had started his job as "human owl". He had been sitting in his father's Potions lessons because he had got lonely by himself and Bill and his class had a lesson third period. Harry had helped him with the potion they had been making by stopping him from adding an incorrectly chopped ingredient and then had hung around to help some more. That afternoon at lunch, Bill had invited Harry to eat with him and his friends at the Gryffindor table and that was how their friendship had begun.

"Hey there, Harry." The eldest Weasley son returned, taking his eyes off of the crystal ball which sat in the centre of his table. Beside him, another boy was half slumped over, his eyes heavy lidded and unblinking as he stared at the orb.

"Having fun?" Harry teased, noticing the other older boy's almost comatose state.

"Oh yeah, loads of fun." Bill grinned before he shifted his chair back a little. "Fancy having a go?"

"Really?" The younger boy asked excitedly.

"Sure, just stare at the ball and see if you can make anything out." The red haired teenager instructed as he nudged the other boy out of the way easily so that Harry could get a decent, unobscured look.

Harry leaned forward eagerly, peering into the centre of the globe and seeing the whispy mist which swirled around inside. For what felt like an age, he saw nothing except the clouds, but just when he was about to move away and give up, he caught sight of something. The mist parted a little but not enough to make everything easily clear, Harry could just about make out the picture.

There was a big, fat rat, a small, pale green garden snake and a large, black snake of a breed Harry could not easily identify. The big snake was curled around the rat tightly and the rat looked rather uncomfortable though was showing no real desire to get away. From the position it was in, it could have quite easily bit the snake curled around him quite badly but it showed no sign that it was even considering it. From the right, the little green snake slithered closer to the big snake and the rat, appearing curious, flicking its tiny tongue out to taste them both. Just as the little snake looked as if it was about to move on, the rat was suddenly released and it lunged at the little snake, seizing it in its mouth roughly and then quickly took it over to the big snake. The little snake was dropped and the big snake immediately curled around it, trapping it gently as it moved its head around to gently flick its tongue over the top of the small snake's head. The rat stepped forward towards the two snakes tentatively, looking suddenly unsure and then, unexpectedly, the big snake darted forward and sunk its teeth into the rat's back making the poor creature release a silent scream and begin to struggle against the clamped jaws violently.

Harry drew back quickly, more than a little disturbed by what he had just seen. That last scene with the rat being bitten had been horrible and the young boy felt distinctly queasy now. Had that been a vision though? Or just an image conjured up by his over-active imagination?

"So? Did you see anything?" Bill's voice interrupted his musings suddenly and his head snapped to the side to look at the older boy. He looked amused and teasing and Harry quite comfortably decided that he was unaware that Harry had actually seen something. And it was going to stay that way; Harry doubted that he would be believed even if he did tell the other boy about what he saw.

"What do you think?" Harry answered with his own amused expression; not outwardly lying, just not voicing the truth.

Bill and his friend chuckled a little. "Not surprising; no one ever sees anything. Divination is a load of tripe if you ask me." The red haired boy grinned, making sure to keep his voice low so there would be no chance of him being over-heard.

"Haryon, dear." Professor Trelawney's voice called over to them suddenly and the three boys turned towards the front of the classroom when the teacher was gesturing the youngest over, a piece of folded parchment in her hands.

"I'll see ya later then, Bill." Harry sighed as he moved away from the table before heading down towards the front.

"Dinner at Gryffindor table again, Harry?"

"Sure thing, see you then." The boy agreed, throwing a quick wave behind him before hurrying the rest of the way down to the front of the classroom, stubbornly stopping himself from thinking about what he had just seen in the crystal ball.

*****

30th October 1987: Afternoon

Harry returned the wave he was given by a group of Hufflepuffs as he walked down one of Hogwarts numerous corridors on his way to his father's quarters unless a better offer popped up before he reached them. He had just finished handing out the last message for the day and he was intent on having a bit of relaxing time to himself or to join some of his friends if he was invited. Either would do. Despite his hard work as a human owl for most of the day and the reasons why he was even in his situation in the first place which still constantly haunted him, he was in a good mood as usual, happy with how things were for the moment.

However, his good mood suddenly morphed as he moved past a window. It had been raining on and off all day and the current shower had actually lasted for quite a while at that point. It was because of the rain which pattered onto the glass in little splashes that Harry was suddenly very still and his eyes had become very wide.

The rain was black.

Harry felt his face drain of colour as he watched the drops of black, viscous liquid slide down the outside of the window leaving a thick, black trail behind it. He stood there completely shocked into stillness, unable to move in the least and his eyes fixed on the terrible sight in front of him. Black rain was a bad omen; a terribly bad omen, but not in the Wizarding world or in a Divination sense. Black rain was the worst omen that was possible for a Havanist to see and only one person had ever been recorded to have actually seen it before; the Great Lady herself the eve before she faced the incarnation of evil.

"Haryon?" An unfamiliar voice suddenly said to his side.

Harry quickly looked to his side to see Peter Pettigrew standing beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that in the spilt second he had looked away from the window, the rain had returned to normal, no long black and thick but clear and thin. With a small sigh, he turned his full attention back to his least favourite teacher in the school, intent on making this meeting end as swiftly as possible.

"Professor Pettigrew." Harry replied politely, keeping a hold of his emotions in the same way which both his father and godfather had taught him to over the years.

"You're looking rather pale if you don't mind me saying; is something wrong?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine. Thank you for asking though, Professor." Harry answered before turning from the man, intending to run to his father's quarters and dig out his school text books to check up on the legend of Black Rain. However, he had barely taken a step before a fat hand curled around his elbow and held him back. Ignoring the sudden swell of panic which shot through him at that contact, Harry stopped obediently and turned back to look at the teacher who towered above him.

"Maybe you should take a bit of a rest, just to make sure. Why don't we go to my quarters and you can have a sit down?"

Now that sounded wrong in so many ways. Harry kept a tight hold on his emotions, letting nothing show and giving "the enemy" nothing to work with. His mind was still rather panicked and flustered though and he was having trouble thinking of a way out of this situation. The few seconds of silence that actually passed felt like several long, painful hours to Harry as he desperately tried to think of an easy way out of this situation. Luckily, he ended up not having to think up a method to get away because a famliar voice suddenly called his name from off down the corridor.

Together, both Harry and Pettigrew turned to see that, further off down the corridor, Bill Weasley and several other Gryffindor were waving to Harry, beckoning him over. Harry sent a silent thank you to his Great Lady for the save and pulled his arm out of the man's grip which had loosened considerably since the interruption. The young boy and the older man looked each other in the eye, each trying to size the other up and to figure out exactly what it was that happened and what had gone wrong respectively.

Finally, it was Harry who broke the eye contact and the silence as he lowered his eyes and took a step backwards. "Good day, Professor." He murmured before turning and hurrying off down the corridor towards the older Gryffindors who were still waiting for him.

"Hey Harry, what was all that about?" Bill asked curiously as the young boy reached them, glancing at him before glancing back over to the DADA professor who was still staring at them, or at Harry to be more precise.

"I, um, I'm not completely sure." Harry answered, his flustered state making his words and tone a little unsure.

"Oh, well, we were just heading to the common room to lay around and do nothing until dinner and we wondered if you felt like joining us." The eldest Weasley son invited, backed up with a few nods from the surrounding teenagers.

"Oh, erm, I, um, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to pass. There's...There's something I've got to go check. But, I'll still join you for dinner, if you still want me to." Harry answered, cursing himself inwardly for the words which tumbled from him in a seemingly uncontrollable stream.

"Of course you're still welcome. See you then, then." The older boy said with a smile as he and his friends turned and wandered off.

Harry sighed but kept a smile on his face as he gave the group of Gryffindors a small wave. However, when they were out of sight, his smile vanished in an instant. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before replacing them on his nose and dashing off in the opposite direction to where the teenagers had headed, on his way to his father's quarters in the dungeons.
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Family Means More Than Blood