Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bloody But Unbowed	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 36009 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Seven�Comfort Is
Part of Survival

�� And so you
are really leaving us, Harry?�

�� Harry
leaned back and smiled, a little uncomfortably, at Healer Emily Pontiff. He
hadn�t gone to fetch her. He�d merely started to clean out the desk in his
cubicle, and somehow she had known and floated over to him.

�� He couldn�t
help being a little in awe of her, even when he wasn�t watching her save lives
with her finely controlled magic. She had a face like a stone angel�s in a
Muggle graveyard, and wispy gray hair floated around that face like a maze of
cobwebs. Her wand, birch wood, hardly rivaled her skin in its pallor. She had
pale gray eyes, but kept them half-shaded with lowered lids that had fooled
patients before into believing she was asleep or meditating. Harry felt himself
falling silent, his muscles relaxing, in the intense aura of peace and serenity
she carried about with her.

�� Now, for
the first time, it struck him as he gazed at her that this was how Narcissa
Malfoy would look when she was older, if her hair lost some of its color.
Frowning, Harry glanced down at his desk again and slid several headache
potions into a satchel. He didn�t want to think about the Malfoys in that way.
They seemed to blithely assume that they could become more important to him
than anyone else simply by striding into his life. But Harry knew the association would only be temporary; he could heal
Lucius and go back to his daily routine.

�� Except that that routine won�t be at St.
Mungo�s, anymore.

��

�� Healer
Emptyweed told me you were leaving because of a disagreement over who should
handle Lucius Malfoy�s care,� Healer Pontiff continued, and leaned against his
desk. �Is that true?�

�� Harry
nodded, still staring at his desk. Was that a bit of parchment he needed crammed
into the back of the drawer? No, only a scrap on which he�d once played a game
to amuse himself. He shut the drawer with a bang and lifted the satchel to his
shoulder, grimacing as the sore place in the center of his back pulled. �It�s
true.�

�� Harry.�
Pontiff�s voice was gentle as she stood and came around the desk, holding out
her wand towards his back. She murmured a charm, and the place where the Beetle�s
Bite had hit him began to glow blue. �You would leave the rest of your
patients, and the good you are doing here, because of an argument over a single
one?�

�� He couldn�t
tell me who would replace me,� Harry replied, bowing his head. The next spell
Pontiff used spread warmth like massage oil through the sore area, and he
sighed in relief. �And someone had already threatened Mr. Malfoy�s life twice,
once by canceling the stabilization fields I�d cast on him. I couldn�t take the
chance that the new caretaker�well, wouldn�t take care, and that he would end
up dead. I�ve had enough people dying on my watch.�

�� Pontiff placed
one hand on his shoulder. �No one sane who thinks about the war thinks that,�
she reassured him.

�� Harry
smiled ruefully back at her. �I know that, but I still think it.� He turned away before she could scold him and
rested the satchel cautiously against the middle of his back again, nodding
when it brushed the former sore spot with perfect comfort. �Thank you.�

�� It looks
like someone may have threatened your life as well.�

�� The Beetle�s
Bite doesn�t threaten life,� Harry said. �Xavier was annoyed at me, that�s all.�
He knew Healer Pontiff would know who he was talking about. Somehow she had
managed to quietly inform herself on every aspect of his life even when he kept
silent out of shame or frustration.

�� Pontiff
sighed. Then she said, �Comfort is part of survival, Harry.�

�� I know,� Harry
said, glancing back at her and smiling. He was grateful that she had passed to
generalized healing advice instead of the uncomfortably personal comments that
Hermione would have tried to make. �The patient heals better when he can rest
on a soft bed, look out a lighted window, and eat good food.�

�� You mistake
me this time,� said Pontiff. �Comfort is part of your survival too, Harry. I have watched you with growing distress
these past few weeks. You cast yourself into work as if it were a remedy for a
bruised heart or smarting pride. It is not.�

�� I�ve done
the best I can to heal all my patients,� Harry said stiffly. When Emptyweed
doubted his abilities, he thought it one more part of the man�s stupid attitude
concerning him; when Healer Pontiff did the same, it actively hurt. �I don�t
think I�ve neglected them just because I broke up with Xavier.�

�� And again
you mistake me,� Pontiff whispered. �You have not neglected your patients. You have neglected yourself.�

�� Harry shook
his head impatiently. Not even from Pontiff could he accept coddling. Various people
in his life seemed to take turns acting as if he needed to spend months on a
tropical island �recovering� from what Harry knew were perfectly normal
occurrences in everyone�s life. He snapped back, didn�t he? He managed to heal
every time. Just because he had broken up with everyone he�d dated so far didn�t
mean he would always do so. He brooded for a while, but that was only normal.
He hadn�t let his bad luck sour him on life or love.

�� He failed
to see what Hermione, or Healer Pontiff, or Ron, wanted for him other than
that.

�� I�ll be
fine,� he said, and offered her a grin and news that he thought would distract
her. �I�m going to Malfoy Manor to serve as private mediwizard to Mr. Malfoy
for a time, and after I�ve solved his case, he�ll give me enough money to set
up my own practice.�

�� Pontiff
smiled, but it was an abstracted expression, as if her thoughts were elsewhere.
Harry didn�t mind. Her thoughts were elsewhere most of the time. �The Malfoys
are one of the old pure-blood families,� she said.

�� I know
that,� Harry said patiently. Sometimes the people in his life acted as if he
didn�t know the most basic facts about the wizarding world, either.

�� They think
of debts differently,� Pontiff said. �They think of connections differently. Because
someone else so rarely does something they can acknowledge as worthy of them, or
does something for them at all, they tend to seize anyone who does and hold him
or her close.� She looked him in the eye. �I would see that you know what you
are getting into, before you go traipsing off to the Manor.�

�� Harry
stared at her incredulously. �Do you believe Mr. Malfoy would keep me prisoner
in the dungeons until I used healing magic to torture his worst enemy for him
or something?�

�� I fear
that you are no longer as independent as you would like,� Pontiff told him. �A
Malfoy�s gifts are not poisoned, but they are
heavy.�

�� Harry
shrugged. �I�m only interested in their Galleons.�

�� Pontiff
gave him a light, amused smile, of the kind that he almost never saw on her
face, and reached up to touch his cheek. �You never could have been, Harry, or
you would not have made a good mediwizard.�

�� Harry
flushed and clasped her hand for a moment, squeezing, before he stepped away
and strode down the corridor. �I won�t say goodbye,� he called over his shoulder.
�The next time you hear of me, I�ll be a private mediwizard with my own name
and reputation!�

�� That you
already have in my eyes, and the eyes of anyone else who truly knows you.�
Pontiff smiled at him again, this smile more of her usual kind, distant and
mysterious and filled with starlight, and then turned and wandered away. Officious
Healers like Emptyweed had tried to accost her before for not maintaining a
brisk stride in the corridors, but not even the St. Mungo�s administration would
listen to them when she had so many successful healings to her credit.

�� Harry shook
his head and walked back down to the lobby and the Floo. He did like Healer
Pontiff, but sometimes she was too distant
from the world. She didn�t understand the realities of a deal like the one
Harry had made with Lucius Malfoy. There was no reason that it should last
longer than the healing would take, because there was nothing else Harry and
the Malfoys had to offer each other.

�� Really, Harry asked himself, could they want me for friendship?
Companionship? Someone to argue the finer points of blood prejudice with?

�� No. He snorted. The only thing he might
have been able to offer them was the �glory� of a close association with the
Boy-Who-Lived, and not even the Malfoys were stupid enough to exploit such a
faded and worn thing.

�� I made a good bargain.

*

�� Stay there
for a moment.�

�� Harry, just
climbing out of his own fireplace, paused and raised an eyebrow. Malfoy stood
on the far side of the room, his hands clenched at his sides and his breathing
so fast that Harry wondered absently if he had been running about the house in
pursuit of Kreacher.

�� Don�t tell
me you�re a painter and you need me to model for you,� Harry said, tilting his
head back and striking an absurd pose. �I haven�t seen any sort of a palette or
eye for color. Mind you, you�ve got the air of pretentious importance down pat.�

�� I want you
to stay there,� Malfoy said between clenched teeth, �because then I might not
kill you. Do you have any idea how stupid that was, running off to hospital
without a bodyguard when someone just threatened your life?�

�� I thought
I explained about the Beetle�s Bite.� Harry deliberately stretched, letting
Malfoy see that he didn�t wince from the place of the spell�s impact. No need
to tell him that it had hurt and
Healer Pontiff had removed the sting. �And can I be blamed when my �bodyguard�
refused to come with me?�

�� A dull
flush climbed Malfoy�s cheeks, and he took a step closer despite his own
injunction. �You act as if you despise your own life,� he said in a low voice. �What
would you tell a patient of yours in the same situation who insisted on
climbing out of his bed and rushing off to do emotionally intense work, no
matter what the spell he�d been hit with was?�

�� Harry
frowned and turned his face away. He was bored of the conversation. �We have
more important things to talk about,� he said.

�� We don�t��

�� Someone
tried to remove me from your father�s case,� Harry said briskly, moving past
Malfoy to the door of the library. �I informed him of this, and he�s decided
that St. Mungo�s isn�t safe for him anymore. He�s going home to Malfoy Manor. I�m
to follow him, and stay there until I�ve cured him.�

�� Malfoy
froze. Harry grinned and walked up the stairs, listening. He counted to ten
before Malfoy came scrambling and racing after him.

�� What?� he demanded, sounding out of
breath, when he reached the top of the staircase.

�� Harry
turned around to look at him for a moment. His face was flushed with his sudden
run, and his hair had become disordered and floated around his head rather like
Healer Pontiff�s. Harry was surprised when heat swirled in his groin. He apparently
liked the softer, more surprised Malfoy, if only because when he was surprised
it was easy to take him off-guard.

�� And the existence of attraction doesn�t mean
you have to act on it, he reminded himself as he opened his bedroom door and
began Summoning his robes, textbooks, a few completed potions, and pillows.
They went into a traveling bag like the one Hermione had used to carry their
necessary items during their flight from the Death Eaters. That�s the lesson Malfoy has yet to learn.

�� I�ll stay
in the Manor with you for a few weeks,� Harry went on, casually leaning against
the wall as the bag packed itself and glancing back at Malfoy. �Your father has
agreed to set me up in a private practice as soon as I�ve cured him.�

�� Malfoy continued
to stare at him. Harry grinned. �Just because you were in the House of the
Snake doesn�t mean you have to forget you possess eyelids,� he said.

�� Then Malfoy
did something disturbing. He grinned too and leaned forwards, resting his hands
on the door on either side of Harry�s head. So close, Harry could smell his
slightly sour breath and feel the drifting hair tickle his cheeks. He felt
every muscle in his body come to attention, and shivered in irritation. He didn�t
like responding this way. Yes, Malfoy had the kind of physique that Harry
usually admired, and he was certainly handsome enough, but his mind wasn�t at
all attractive.

�� Good,�
Malfoy whispered. �I know what went wrong, now.�

�� What went
wrong?� Harry frowned, his mind pulling out of the haze into which it had
started to drift. �With your father, you mean? You have some idea about the
linked curses? Why didn�t you tell me?�

�� Not about
that.� Malfoy laughed softly. �Why would I know about healing when I�ve never
seriously studied it? Besides, I have absolute faith in your skills, and I know
you�ll return my father to normal without help. No. I meant I know why my
attempt to seduce you went wrong.�

�� I should
hope you would,� Harry said, ignoring his pleasure at the declaration of faith,
�after I told you in great detail.� He shoved at Malfoy�s shoulders, trying to
make him step back. He leaned in again further and breathed gently on Harry�s
ear instead. Harry shivered and leaned his head back on the door before he
could stop himself. His ears were one of his sensitive places.

�� It�s a
challenge,� Malfoy said. �I haven�t had to seduce anyone the way I�ll have to
seduce you.� He sounded delighted. �It�ll involve more self-control than I�ve
had to use before. But I�ll have you in my bed at last.�

�� You wouldn�t
like me in bed,� Harry said dryly, and finally got an ankle behind Malfoy�s
left leg and twisted. Malfoy staggered away from him, graceless and nearly
falling before he got a hold on the wall. Harry straightened up and pretended
to be very occupied in adjusting his robe. He was disappointed in himself. A
few flattering words and a few breaths on his ear, and he was about to curl up
and let Malfoy do whatever he wanted? He would have to be very careful when he lived in the Manor. Being on his own ground
would give Malfoy confidence.

�� I can�t
imagine you being anything but graceful and passionate in bed,� Malfoy said.

�� Harry gave
him an irritated glance and heaved the full bag. He�d just made the idiot flail
about. Did that not count with him? �I�m
not,� he said. �I�m very boring. Just ask Francis.�

�� Francis?�

�� The fifth
person I dated,� Harry murmured as he snapped his fingers to summon Kreacher.
The little house-elf appeared and bowed. Harry nodded to him. �Would you make
sure Ron and Hermione learn that I�m gone to Malfoy Manor and that I�m perfectly
safe?� he asked.

�� I don�t
know about perfectly,� Malfoy said in
a thoughtful tone.

�� Shut up,�
Harry advised him, and looked back long enough to catch Kreacher�s nod. �Good.�
He hung the bag over his shoulder and looked at Malfoy. �What Floo address do
you use for the Manor? Just �Malfoy Manor?��

�� Malfoy
opened his mouth for a moment. Then he shut it and swallowed. Harry raised his
eyebrows. �Is it under the Fidelius? Your father didn�t mention that.�

�� No,�
Malfoy said, in a calm tone. �It�s Malfoy Manor, as you surmised. I need to go
ahead to open the connection for you, though. It automatically responds to
someone of the blood, but it would simply bounce you out if you tried to enter
it without an invitation.�

�� Harry
rolled his eyes as Malfoy left the room. He suspected he would be hearing
phrases like �of the blood� quite a bit in the near future. It was the way
pompous pure-blooded idiots apparently talked.

�� But Malfoy
seemed to have taken a hint and retreated a bit. Perhaps he would remember, as
Harry had told him, that he was attractive to other people and there was a whole wizarding world of them out
there.

*

�� Mr.
Potter. Be welcome to our home, as one who shares our blood and has our good
will in mind.�

�� Harry bowed
to conceal the impulse to drop his jaw. He had expected to enter a large room
covered with snobby portraits who would whisper about his Muggleborn mother as
he went by, or maybe a small and shabby anteroom where they put visitors who
were not worthy to enter through the front door. Instead, he had come out of
the fireplace in what had to be the
receiving hall of the Manor. Who they received there, Harry didn�t know.
Probably dragons.

�� The room
was enormous, made of white marble, but faintly and warmly lit by star-like
sparkles in the distance on the upper part of the arching walls and the ceiling.
Closer at hand, red carpets and soft green ones warmed the marble in a way that
Harry wouldn�t have believed possible. Tapestries and landscapes, rather than
portraits, covered the walls and surrounded him with a myriad of colors, gentle
curves, and graceful magical creatures. Here and there, a candle glittered and
caught on a shine of gold, or silver, or ivory. But none of it was
overwhelming, and none of it screamed ostentation as Harry had imagined a
Malfoy home would inevitably do.

�� Narcissa
Malfoy stood in the middle of it all, clad in a red gown that softened her
features and cold expression as the carpets did for the hall. And instead of
regarding him with a face to rival a disgusted queen�s, as he had been sure she
would, she was reaching out to him with both hands, a faint smile on her face.

�� Harry
remained bowed a moment longer than necessary, to stuff his surprise away, but then
he had to raise his head and clasp her hands in return. He was sure his smile
was strained, but they�d probably like that, he told himself. They would still
want a visitor to the Manor to be impressed, though they might choose different
means to make that impression than the traditional ones. �I�thank you, Mrs.
Malfoy. Of course, maybe I should say that your husband shares my blood rather
than the other way around.� Maybe she would take offense at that, and then he
would be back on familiar ground.

�� Narcissa�s
smile widened. �When someone has done as much for us as you have, Mr. Potter,
how one speaks of the sharing does not matter as much as the fact of that
sharing.� Before Harry could protest that she�d taken the trouble to welcome
him to her home with ritual words, she lifted her shoulder, and a floating
candle came up to offer them both illumination. �If you will follow me? I chose
your room, and whilst it is magnificent, it is also some distance from the
entrance.�

�� So Harry
had to follow her up a sweeping staircase�less like a staircase than the
terraced entrance to a temple�that blue-green tapestries along the wall made
into a kind of underwater tunnel, and which, on a turn, became so encircled by
green that it seemed to run through a forest. He looked around constantly for
Malfoy or Lucius, but didn�t see them. Maybe it was part of Narcissa�s duties
to welcome him to the house, he thought, and if she chose his room, it was only
fair that she should escort him to it. And Malfoy would probably want to be
with his father, to talk to him about strategies for keeping him safe from any
further enemies.

�� Harry
smiled suddenly. That was an advantage he hadn�t thought of. Malfoy would have
the opportunity to spend time around his father at home, and in more
comfortable circumstances than he would have in hospital. That should coax him
to stop paying so much attention to Harry. Maybe he would even decide that Harry
was less interesting than Lucius, which was what he should have thought in the first place.

�� They passed
into a third turn of the staircase, and now they seemed to parade across a
beach, given the soft yellow color of the tapestries and the faint flickering
veins of gold in the marble. Harry stirred uneasily, and tried to imagine what
the room Narcissa had chosen for him would look like.

�� Really,
Mrs. Malfoy,� he blurted out as they finally reached the top of the staircase, �I
don�t need a magnificent room. A
comfortable one will do fine.�

�� She glanced
over her shoulder and gave him another smile, this one stronger. �I�m afraid
there are no rooms in the Manor that are not both, Mr. Potter,� she said cheerfully.
�You will simply need to tolerate it.�

�� And she
turned and walked on, leaving Harry blinking and gaping. Had she just made a joke?

�� They
reached the room at last, and Narcissa touched a bronze knocker on the wide
expanse of the oak door. At least, Harry thought it was oak; he had no eye for
such things. He put his hands behind his back, irrationally afraid that he
would stain the knocker or bruise the door if he touched them.

�� Oblivious
to his discomfort, Narcissa said, �This knocker is the center of your wards. It
will secure them across the door so that no one but you can disturb them whilst
you�re in the room. When you come out, only touch the knocker if you wish to
change them�to allow others to have access to your room when you�re elsewhere,
for example. Of course, the house-elves have access no matter what the settings
of the wards.� She flicked her fingers towards the knocker and murmured
something under her breath, and the door swung open at once. As Harry passed
through, he felt the flickering net of wards settle over his head and slide
around his shoulders, apparently memorizing the contours of his body.

�� If the door
had been intimidating, the room took his breath away. There appeared to be
three of them, linked together: a loo off to the left side with a tub whose
size Harry was afraid to contemplate; a room to the right that had enough bookshelves
and wide windows he assumed it was a library; and a bedroom that shimmered with
living green. The carpet was a deep green, the tapestries various shades of it,
spinning out in blue and yellow towards the ends. Harry caught an occasional
glimpse of polished wooden paneling between the tapestries, as brown as the
trunks of trees. The doors of discreet cupboards opened here and there. In the
center was what he took for a mound of moss at first; only when Narcissa moved
towards it and his perspective shifted did he realize it was a bed. It looked as if it curved and dipped
in all the right places, and the pillows were fluffy combinations of brown and
green and pale blue that made Harry�s head ache just looking at them and trying
to reckon their softness. Sleek satiny curtains that could be pulled shut around
the bed hung from poles carved to look like branches.

�� I do hope
you appreciate it,� Narcissa said, turning towards him. The tone of her words
was gentle, not insulting; her voice carried the anxiety of the hostess who
wanted to make sure her guest was not uncomfortable. �Some of the other rooms are
larger, but they don�t have attached libraries. The house-elves have brought up
all the books we have on healing, and of course there are spaces for any you
brought with you.�

�� Harry
lowered his eyes for a moment. He was heartily ashamed of half the thoughts he�d
had since meeting the Malfoys. People who could do this for him were neither as
grasping nor as cold-hearted as he�d thought they must be.

�� And what do you really know of them? he asked
himself. A few experiences during the war
and some second-hand truths from the mouths of those who hate them. And meeting
Draco nearly every day during school, of course, but he was a child then.

�� Mrs.
Malfoy,� he said quietly, looking up.

�� Please
call me Narcissa.� She smiled and stepped back so he could approach the bed,
carefully guiding the floating candle away from the bed-curtains. �That�s a
privilege that family members have.�

�� Harry shook
his head helplessly. �I�you�ve done too much
for me,� he said. �I appreciate this, of course, but I don�t deserve it. I�m
only the mediwizard who�s treating your husband. Not even a full Healer! You
don�t need to�� He paused. He had been about to say, �You don�t need to bribe
me to do a good job,� but only now did he realize how insulting that would have
sounded. �You don�t need to put yourself out for me in any way,� he ended up
saying.

�� Narcissa
took a step towards him, not smiling now. Harry held his breath, wondering if he
would find out what lay behind the polite fa�ade.

�� Harry,� Narcissa
said when she was a pace or two away from him, �do you know how many people
have ever saved my husband�s life?�

�� Er.� Harry
didn�t want to speculate about what might have happened among the Death Eaters,
but on the other hand, they had been in battles before. That had to mean
someone had shoved Lucius out of the path of a curse, at least. �Two? Four?�

�� One,�
Narcissa said. �And that was years ago, and the man who did it probably did it
for his own reasons.� Her mouth tightened with what looked like remembered
pain. �You have done it twice in a few days, and for reasons that we now know
are not self-interested. You will excuse me, I hope, if I honor you as I think
you deserve.�

�� Harry
looked away, insides squirming. If Lucius had said something like that, Harry
could have responded with an insult so his patient wouldn�t be so stressed. If
Malfoy had said it, he could have laughed. But it was different when Narcissa
said it, in her grave, patient, sweet voice.

�� Thank you,�
he whispered at last.

�� She stepped
towards him and held out her hands again. Harry shifted his bag awkwardly to
his shoulder and took them. Narcissa leaned in to lightly kiss his cheek.

�� Be welcome
to our home, Harry,� she said. �Everything you may need or wish for is at your
disposal. Including the good-will of everyone who lives here.� She stepped
back, curtsied to him, and swept out of the room. The door shut behind her, and
Harry could see the brilliant sparkle of the wards engaging.

�� Only then
did he realize that the Malfoys had trusted him with a room he could ward against
them, if he wanted to.

�� Of course, there�s probably some secret
entrance or something, he thought, and let the bag drop awkwardly to the
floor. It made a thump that sounded too heavy. He winced. Looking around again,
he shook his head.

�� He could
try to appreciate and be grateful for everything the Malfoys had done for him,
but he didn�t belong here. It was too
bloody large, too luxurious, too graceful and gracious. Quite a different order
of life than he was accustomed to.

�� He would have
to steel himself against giving in, though. It would be easy to let the comfort
tempt him, the same way it would be easy to let Malfoy�s flirtation tempt him
if he had no commitment to his job.

�� Harry
smiled, then. The one thing no one had ever been able to fault him for,
Emptyweed aside, was his commitment to saving lives.

�� And he
would remember Healer Pontiff�s warning, and not let himself expend too much
strength carrying the Malfoys� heavy gifts. For example, he was going to spend
most of the night studying, rather than resting in that decadent bed. The
sooner he solved the mystery of Lucius�s curse, the sooner he could escape from
this overwhelming place.

�� He dug the
books he�d brought out of his bag and hurried into the library.

*

�� avihenda:
Thank you! Both Lucius and Draco are learning the value of �nudging� now,
rather than openly confronting Harry and trying to force him along the path
they want him to tread.

�� Slytherdor:
You�re welcome, and thanks!

�� YanaYugi:
Yes, it is. Particularly when he finds out that Harry is acting like a prat in
his family�s home.

�� Mangacat:
Thanks! Draco was mostly taken off-guard by Harry�s honesty, though, which is
one reason Harry could manipulate him so easily. That won�t happen again.

�� acr1228:
Thank you! In this case, I am absolutely in love with this incarnation of
Harry, one reason the stories get written so fast.

�� Draco may
gain some maturity in the next few chapters.

�� feltonslover:
It�s mostly a case of really bad luck, but the connecting factor between Harry�s
loss of his lovers is that he could never be what they most needed him to be:
someone who could tolerate adultery, or a hero, or a kinky lover. He�s
understandably reluctant to get involved with Draco when he thinks he could
never be what Draco needed either.

�� kittycat30:
Harry would have quit, except that he really loves helping people, and it�s
fairly easy to do so in St. Mungo�s�less easy if he has a private practice.

�� Jilliane:
Oh, yes, Harry is thinking mostly of the practice, and not of Malfoy Manor as
anything but a temporary stopping place.

�� Well, that�s
a large coincidence, as I�ve honestly never watched �House.� Glad if you like
the resemblances, though. Emptyweed�s motives are explored in detail at a later
period.

�� qwerty: Harry
will need to give Draco a few other talkings-to in the future.

�� Nusku:
Harry might surprise the Malfoys.

�� Caldonya:
Harry is reluctant to leave his patients, but he knows that the hospital can
find someone else to cover them. He�s apparently the only one who can take care
of Lucius.

�� hieisdragoness18:
Harry doesn�t know who that Healer assigned to Lucius might have been, one
reason he�s leaving. It could have been someone horrible.

�� xAmbeh:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� GoddessMoonLady:
Believe me, Lucius is considering doing something like that.

�� Well,
Healer Pontiff is probably more talented than Harry, and there are others who
are pretty good. It�s just that they take advantage of Harry, as a mere
mediwizard, to cover some of their mistakes.

�� There will
be sex scenes later, but rated-R ones, so they should be the same on FF.net and
here.

�� Werewolf
Mistress: It was easy to find patients and gain a reputation at St. Mungo�s. If
Harry had set up his own practice years ago, he doesn�t know if people might
have come to him just because he�s the Boy-Who-Lived. And while he has enough
money to live on, he might not have enough to buy all the supplies he would
need, which at St. Mungo�s he could easily acquire.

�� Rebriddle:
Thanks so much! Hope you like Chapter 7.

�� Akasha
Sorvolo Riddle: Thanks for reviewing!

�� Most likely,
the person who took Harry off Malfoy�s case is anonymous, so as not to get in
trouble.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Let�s say that Lucius�s plan involves letting Harry involve himself with the
Malfoys, more than it involves trapping Harry.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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

Bloody But Unbowed