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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Eight�The
Healer May Become the Patient

�� Harry
raised his head slowly and then groaned. The most incredible pain was lancing through the back of his neck, and the
inside of his mouth felt dry and sticky at the same time, as if he�d spent the
hours before he slept trying to swallow crushed velvet. It took him long
moments to summon his mind out of the sweltering chaos of weariness it was
traveling through.

�� He�d fallen
asleep with his forehead leaning on the table in front of him and his neck
sharply bowed, he realized at last. He massaged the aching muscles with a sigh.
He knew a few charms to remove such pains, but they all required a level of
concentration that was usually beyond him�and he was especially reluctant to
try when he�d spent the night sleeping in a chair instead of a proper bed.

�� But then he
began to grin as he remembered how adroitly he�d avoided the temptation that
bed represented, and what he�d found in one of his own books and then confirmed
with two from the Malfoy library.

�� Harry sat
back in his chair and stretched, wincing as that bent his neck the wrong way
again. The library loomed around him, sober enough that Harry could approve of
it, reluctantly. The dark bookshelves were all made of the most expensive wood,
though, and the chair had shifted to mold and cradle him better when he sat
down. Harry frowned at it disapprovingly. Really. Why would the Malfoys waste
magic on such a thing? Yes, they�d wanted to make the best books available to
him so he could treat Lucius�s condition, but the chairs must have been sitting
in the same room for years, visited only by house-elves.

�� They could explain it to me for years with
informative diagrams, and I still wouldn�t understand them. We live in such
different worlds.

�� No matter.
He�d achieved the goal he�d stayed up half the night for. He had a good idea,
now, what sort of pattern of linked spells occupied Lucius�s mind, and how he
might destroy that pattern and free Lucius from the curse.

�� Harry stood
and strode towards the loo. He wouldn�t use that luxurious tub�the thought of
it made his flesh creep�but he could do with a short shower and some
Refreshment Charms to remove the pattern of ink and wood oil he was sure was
imprinted on his cheek and forehead.

�� Only when
he reached the central bedroom did he hear someone knocking on the door. It
sounded like a polite, almost timid knock, though Harry thought the strength of
the wards would reduce any noise to a faint vibration.

�� Suddenly
annoyed, he crossed the room to the door and laid his hand on a seam in the
wood to unlock the wards. Suppose he had missed vital news about Lucius during
the night because he hadn�t heard the messenger sent to convey it to him? It
was all very well for the Malfoys to be concerned about his comfort, but Harry
didn�t want the gifts they handed him if they interfered with practicality.
Healer Pontiff had warned him those gifts were heavy; she�d said nothing about
how useless they were.

�� And
uselessness, in Harry�s opinion, was much the greater sin.

�� He flung
open the door as the wards crumbled into glittering powder, and found Malfoy
waiting on the other side, impeccably attired in forest-green robes that he
seemed to have chosen to match Harry�s bedroom decor. He blinked a little when
he saw Harry, but didn�t make one remark on his disheveled state.

�� I�ve
brought you breakfast,� he said, gesturing to a silver tray supported by a
house-elf behind him. �And a few more books from the downstairs libraries that
I thought you might need. And a map to my father�s room.� He unfolded a piece
of parchment from his pocket, about the size of the Marauders� Map. �I
understand the Manor can be a little overwhelming for someone not used to it.�
He grinned suddenly, which gave his face the same softened look Harry had
admired yesterday from up close. �I wouldn�t want you to get lost down in one
of the cellars and starve. Imagine me trying to explain that to Granger when she came hunting for you!�

�� Harry
blinked at him suspiciously, but Malfoy remained calm and polite and helpful,
even gazing at him with one eyebrow lifted, as if to ask why Harry didn�t
invite him in. And Harry remembered the thought he�d had last night, about how
little he really knew the entire family, even the son.

�� He could
make an effort to be gracious, since they were so obviously doing the same for
him. And it would be more pleasant if they managed to coexist in the same house
instead of being at each other�s throats all the time. Besides, maybe Malfoy
had realized he couldn�t successfully win Harry by flirting and wanted to move
on to being friends.

�� Please
come in,� he said, and stepped out of the way. The house-elf scurried in first
and floated the tray towards the end of the bed. Harry�s puzzlement lasted only
until the elf grasped hold of a handle projecting from beneath a fringed green
coverlet and pulled. A flat surface slid out, and magical legs immediately
materialized from the bottom and sagged to the floor. The elf laid the tray triumphantly
on the tabletop and whisked the cover away. Harry�s mouth watered as he caught
sight of sliced fruit, small bowls of butter and cream, and several pieces of steaming
toast.

�� When he
recovered from that and turned towards Malfoy, he realized he should have cast
some rumpling charms on the bedcovers. Malfoy was facing him, leaning on the
side of the bed and frowning in concern.

�� Were the
pillows not to your liking?� he asked. �Or the colors, perhaps? Whilst my
mother chose a room she thought you would appreciate, we don�t at all mind if
you alter the colors of the covers and pillows. This is your room for the
duration of your stay in the Manor.�

�� Not �for the duration of my father�s
illness,� Harry thought. Well, it�s a
relief to know I won�t be kicked out the moment I finish healing Lucius. I
might need some time to get my money affairs in order and decide on the
location and name of my practice. �It�s all beautiful,� he said. �As it
happens, I fell asleep in the library, working on several clues that I think
might give me an insight into the curse plaguing your father.�

�� Malfoy gave
him a direct look that made Harry squirm a little, though until he heard the
words that followed he wasn�t sure why. �So you would rather sleep in a library
chair than in a bed my mother offers you?� Malfoy asked softly.

�� I�� Harry
stopped short. The rationalizations that sounded so convincing in his head or
in a conversation with someone who had the otherworldly sensibility of Healer
Pontiff sounded rather stupid when he tried to voice them aloud. He cleared his
throat. How can I say that I�m afraid the
bed would corrupt me and not have him burst out laughing?

�� No, I
think I understand.� Malfoy had the same faint smile as his mother did, Harry
noted dimly, except that his had a tinge of bitterness. �You can�t believe we
would give you something like this, can you? You�re looking for the trick, the
trap, the poisoned half of the apple. And my mother makes a convincing evil
queen.� He ran a hand over his hair and sighed.

�� You�ve
read Muggle fairy tales?� Harry blurted before he could stop himself.

�� Let�s say
that even a book of those looks good when it�s within reach and you�re trying
not to wake a sleeping baby in your lap.� Malfoy continued before Harry could
dispute the amazing implications of his words, which seemed to indicate that
Malfoy had visited Andromeda and Teddy. �I�ll swear any oath you like that
we�re not trying to hurt you, though. What you did when you shared your blood
with Father�it�s special.�

�� I still
don�t really understand why.� Harry folded his arms and tried to shake off the
persistent sense that he must look ridiculous confronting Malfoy, who was as
neatly attired as a statue the house-elves had just polished that morning. �If
I�d used another spell that transferred my blood into his veins, would you have
acted this way? Or is it only the Heart�s Blessing Spell that�s so special?�

�� Malfoy
bowed his head and smiled. �It�s the blood,� he said simply. �It�s a symbol we
can respect and appreciate. Without it, you can offer us many other favors and
we would still have to keep you at a distance.�

�� Who says
that?� Harry asked irritably, though he suspected his life would have been
easier if the Malfoys had kept him at
a distance. �The Special Committee to Make Sure All Pure-Bloods Follow the
Rules?�

�� You would
be surprised by the attempts there have been over the years to create organizations
that approximate that one,� said Malfoy wryly. �But no, we�re acting in accord
with a sense of tradition. Stupid, perhaps, to not be able to respect ourselves
without a sharing of blood, but there you have it.

�� We�re
embattled in wizarding society, Potter, and have been for years.� He shook his
head when Harry opened his mouth to protest. �I know it seems otherwise, but a
few powerful individuals placed in the Wizengamot and the Ministry are only
enough to mask the reality, not change it. We have fewer and fewer families we
can safely marry into if we want to keep our bloodlines pure. Many of the
classes that taught our children what we needed them to know have been dropped
from the Hogwarts timetables. More than the fair share of pure-blood criminals
occupies Azkaban, when you consider what a minority we are in wizarding
Britain. So we have to treat our homes as fortresses, and the rest of the world
as enemies, or at best tentative allies.�

�� He looked
directly at Harry and gave a dazzling smile that left him blinking and dazed.
It was as though a miser had just ushered Harry into his private treasure
vaults and told him to make free with the money there. Come to think of it,
Narcissa had acted like that, too, Harry thought. He envisioned an invisible
weight swinging on a cord above his head for a moment, poised to descend and
crush him. Weren�t treasure vaults always trapped?

�� You broke
past those barriers in one of the few ways you could do so,� Malfoy said, �by
mingling your blood with ours and defending our family at the same time. The
second says that you�re a possible ally; that in combination with your blood
makes you a part of the Malfoys.�

�� But look,�
Harry said as patiently as he could, �that doesn�t make sense.� He might not
understand a lot outside of basic mediwizardry training and how to stay friends
with Weasleys, but he did know that one�s life didn�t change overnight because
of casting a spell he�d cast half a dozen times before. �You can�t�adopt someone because he offers you his
blood.�

�� Yes, you
can,� Malfoy said. �In the old days, it was how pure-blood families conducted
all adoptions. A freely-given gift of blood was precious, considering how much
effort each family went through to keep the line pure and ensure that enough
children survived for long enough to produce the next generation.�

�� But I did
it accidentally.�

�� That makes
it better still. We can be sure you weren�t scheming to win a place in the
house or come closer to our fortune.�

�� But you
don�t really know me.�

�� We know what
you did.� Malfoy cocked his head to the side. �That�s enough. That�s all that�s
important.� He gave Harry yet another smile, this one slower and warmer and
exposing as many possibilities as it did teeth. �And perhaps you don�t know us
all that well either, hmmm?�

�� Since that
was the conclusion Harry had come to last night, he couldn�t really disagree
without lying. He smiled reluctantly back, and Malfoy�s face softened still
further, until Harry thought it might be no great hardship to call him Draco
after all.

�� At any
rate,� said Malfoy, briskly breaking the mood between them, which Harry was
grateful for, �I�ll escort you to my father�s rooms after you finish refreshing
yourself and eating. Are your notes available in the library?� He turned towards
the room, but paused courteously, as if the place really belonged to Harry and it
were his privilege to say who entered
the library and who didn�t.

�� Harry
wanted to gape, but he shut his mouth and swallowed hard. �Some notations in
the margins of the three books there, but I don�t know how well you can
understand them,� he warned.

�� Malfoy
smiled again. �I�ll still make an effort. I should
know more about healing than I do, given that I�ll be a Potions master and
healing potions are the largest percentage of any brewer�s stock.� He stepped
into the library and left Harry alone with the tray of steaming food, the
anxious house-elf, and the temptation of the loo.

�� Harry
paused for long moments, trying to calculate how much time the shower would
take him. Could he just use a few Refreshing Charms and get away with that? He
wouldn�t want to keep Lucius waiting.

�� Master
Harry Potter is bathing now.�

�� Harry
jumped. The house-elf was glaring at him sternly, arms folded and enormous eyes
blinking. Harry shook his head and leaned nearer. �What�s your name?� he asked
as pleasantly as he could.

�� My name is
being Rogers. And your name is being dirty.�

�� Harry
reared back, blinking himself. He�d never heard of a house-elf having a name
like Rogers, or using sarcasm on a wizard. �Er,� he said. �Look, Rogers. You
want Master Lucius Malfoy healed, don�t you?� The elf nodded at once. �Quickly?�

�� No. Well.�

�� Of all the
problems Harry had thought he might confront in the Malfoy house, an emphatic
house-elf who wouldn�t let him escape some of the temptations was not one of
them. He pondered, scratching at his hair. Rogers watched him with a mutinous
expression. From the library came the sound of softly turning pages. Any
moment, Harry thought, Malfoy was going to notice that he hadn�t gone into the
loo.

�� He
scratched at his hair again, and felt grains of something crunch beneath his
fingernails, and sighed. One shower couldn�t hurt.

�� Will you
keep the food warm for me?� he asked, turning towards the loo.

�� Rogers gave
him a horrified look and waved a hand. Steam immediately began to rise from the
toast again and from a mug of some hot drink that Harry hadn�t noticed before
but which smelled wonderful. �Of course! Rogers is not letting food get cold. Nasty icky cold food would be
making Master Harry Potter sick.�

�� Harry shook
his head and retreated into the loo.

�� The tub
took up a third of the room, an enormous dark green basin that could have been
made of jade, set into the floor so that its rim was flush with the tile. The
faucets were shaped like dragons, Runespoors, Ashwinders, wyverns, and other
variations on the theme of snakes. Harry wondered for a moment what would
happen if he talked to them in Parseltongue, and then shuddered. They would
probably answer, that was what, and given the temper of this house�s servants
so far, they would insist on helping him scrub his back.

�� He worked
his way carefully past the tub and towards a whole row of showers, all of them
with gleaming silver faucets and glass doors that could be drawn shut against
water escaping into the room. Harry relaxed. Take a few fixtures away and these
weren�t so different from the showers he�d used after Quidditch games.

�� That relief
lasted until he opened the glass shower door and realized that, in fact, the
door was a folding one sculpted to look
like it was made of many individual panels. Why, Harry didn�t know. It was yet
another aesthetic effect that was lost on him. He stared at the shower thus
revealed in consternation. An army could have bathed here, or one of those
dragons that the Malfoys regularly invited if their entrance hall was anything
to go by, and not have noticed any crowding.

�� Sighing, he
stepped into the shower, and immediately his clothes disappeared. Harry yelped
and tried to clasp his hands together over his cock, but the showerheads had
already oriented on him, and presumably whoever was behind them got a fairly
good look in the instants before they sprayed him.

�� Not only
jets of hot water descended, but also fragrant smoke�presumably to make the
bathing experience more pleasant, Harry thought with furious resentment�softly bubbling
soap that smelled sometimes of lavender and sometimes of apples, something
rough that felt like blowing sand,
and a heavy spray that flicked apart into five streams of water when it was
still some distance from him and raked through his hair like fingers. Harry had
never felt so thoroughly scrubbed in his life. He wriggled and ducked and
dodged, but the sprays followed him, and when he finally stood still and tried
stoically to let it wash over him, he discovered just how pleasant it was.

�� His eyes
drooped shut, and he moaned. Then he slumped against the glass door. The motion
of the water through his hair alone rendered him half-drugged. The alternations
of water and soap and sand against his skin made him feel luxuriously clean
without feeling either scoured or left with particles of dirt and sweat
clinging to him. (Harry was quite sure particles of dirt and sweat would never
survive this assault). The smoke curled and eddied in his nostrils, making him
smell roses and hyacinths and spring leaves and other smells he couldn�t
identify.

�� In short,
the Malfoys knew how to shower.

�� The Healer may become the patient. Healer
Pontiff�s voice sounded in his mind suddenly, like silver ringing off glass. We sometimes suffer as we seek to restore
the balance of another�s health. Stretch ourselves too far, and we can
collapse. That is one reason you must take care of yourself, Harry, even when
it seems unimportant. You would not want to put the further strain on a sick
person of making him watch you collapse.

�� Harry
opened his eyes, which wanted to stick shut, and looked suspiciously at the
showerheads. Was he sure the smoke didn�t have any drug-like properties?
Perhaps it was meant to trigger certain memories in his mind, memories that
would make him more susceptible to obeying the Malfoys� will.

�� Yes,
outwardly it sounded ridiculous, but then outwardly the Malfoys bringing him
here because he had contributed blood to Lucius and for no other reason sounded
ridiculous. And yet Malfoy claimed it was the real reason. Harry frowned and
shook his head, moving towards the folding glass door. Maybe if he got out of
the shower and away from all the�stimuli�he would be able to think more
clearly.

�� But the
door wouldn�t open, and the next moment, a gentle wash of warm air traveled
over him. Tiny individual breezes plucked at the water droplets and stole them
from his body. Harry knew without looking to confirm it that they would leave
his body�s natural moisture alone, to avoid drying him to a dangerous extent.
He sighed and stood as patiently as he could whilst a dedicated wind blew his
hair up and down, chasing the water that might be hiding in his scalp, and a
brisker wind cleared the air of the scents he�d been smelling during the shower
itself.

�� Long before
the glass door opened and released him back into the loo, Harry�s fingers were
drumming impatiently on it. How could anyone put up with this? If it was ridiculous to suspect the Malfoys of trying
to corrupt him, it was even more ludicrous to think that they�d waste all this
magic on him and not expect some kind
of return. Maybe not an evil return, but a return nonetheless. If he was part
of the family, did that mean he had family obligations? Would they expect him
not to speak ill of them in public, or look the other way if Lucius did
something despicable? Would they expect him to break off his association with
the Weasleys?

�� Would
Malfoy expect Harry to climb into bed with him and comfort him, because that
was what �family� did?

�� But then
Harry paused. This �adoption� Malfoy had told him about might have one
unexpected good consequence. The other man�s behavior had changed almost completely
since last night. What if he thought of Harry as his brother now? A brother
could not be a lover, of course.

�� Of course not. Harry relaxed and tapped
the glass door again. This time, it folded outwards and let him escape. I was worrying about nothing. And even if they
tried to keep me here and make me do certain things, I only have to refuse
them. I can even refuse the Galleons, if I have to. He had never tried to
set up his own practice because, though he might have the money to begin it, he
was not at all certain he had the money to purchase healing potions, plasters,
soothing plants, and the other resources of St. Mungo�s, or the books that
would let him continue to expand his knowledge. But he would be able to call on
his friends and other patients; some had even encouraged him to do so. It was
only his hatred of favors, his desire to be independent, that had kept him at
hospital so long.

�� And your desire to do good to the people
there.

�� Much more
cheerfully now that he had some reminder of his own power, Harry stepped into
the loo and found a new set of robes reappearing on him the moment his foot
connected with the tile. Of course the robes were much too rich for him and
that same deep shade of green that his bedclothes were, but that was
inevitable. Harry settled for rolling his eyes and continued into the bedroom,
where Rogers had drawn up a chair for him at the table fastened to the end of
the bed. Harry tried to recall whether the chair had been in the room before,
and couldn�t. He could easily have missed it in the overwhelming mass of other
furnishings, in any case.

�� The hot
drink tasted of several of the flowers he�d smelled in the shower, but for all
that, it wasn�t disgusting. Indeed, the tastes were fleeting and then would
vanish into the background of the drink again, which was a kind of thick tea.
Harry poured butter on the toast and watched it melt instantly. Then he took a
bite of the fruit smeared with cream, which included several round red berries
of a kind he�d never met before, and nearly went over backwards in his
surprise. The berries were sweeter than the fleeting tastes in his drink, and had
a lingering tartness under the surface that made him try to picture how Lucius
would eat them without success. No one could keep a straight face when
devouring food like this; one would be compelled to sigh and blink in surprise
and pause with eyes closed whilst one savored.

�� Harry began
to alternate bites of hot buttered toast and berries with cream, and was so occupied
that he never noticed when Malfoy stepped out of the library.

�� Enjoying
yourself?�

�� The words
were soft, not mocking, and Harry opened his eyes and stared without
understanding at Malfoy for a long moment. The other man had his finger resting
in one of the books Harry had been studying last night, his glance amused as he
surveyed the remains of the breakfast. Harry colored and wiped his mouth on the
napkin at the edge of the plate, knowing he had berry juice and cream all over
his lips, and convinced he must look like a rabid animal.

�� No, no,� Malfoy
said. �Your expression is so much more open when you�re enjoying something.�

�� Harry
paused, eyes narrowed. The compliment sounded different, more sincere, than
most of the ones Malfoy had given him, and he didn�t follow up on it. Instead,
he sat down in a chair that Rogers might have conjured out of thin air and tapped
the book he�d carried out of the library.

�� Your
thought is that it�s the Mirror Maze, right?�

�� Not�exactly,�
Harry said, and regretfully pushed the rest of his breakfast away from him. He
had to concentrate on work, not on how good the food tasted. The Malfoys might
interfere with his job without even knowing it. �The spell I cast looking for Mansuefacio might have revealed the
presence of that Maze, and certainly would have found the presence of that same
spell reflected, as the Mirror Maze ensures.�

�� Malfoy
frowned and shook his head. �I don�t understand. I thought the Mirror Maze was
just a group of spells woven around a person in a certain pattern and designed
to trigger one another when the right commands were given.�

�� Harry
grinned, delighted with the temptation to show off his superior knowledge for
once. This was of course information that Emptyweed and most others in hospital
had mastered long ago, but it was new to Malfoy. �No, that�s the definition of
a spell maze in general. There are different patterns. The Mirror Maze is named
because it uses the same spells reflected and repeated rather than completely
different ones. It can be devastating when the command to trigger is issued, because
the victim receives double the power of that particular curse.�

�� I�ve never
encountered anyone who could explain that so clearly.�

�� Harry
blinked suspiciously at him, but Malfoy was looking at the book, and once again
he went on after the compliment, if it was one, without trying to press his
advantage. �What do you think it is if not the Mirror Maze, then?�

�� The Mirror
Maze turned sideways,� Harry said. �That would conceal the presence of similar
spells in your father�s mind. And it would explain why the Permanency Spell on
those particular wounds he had is so strong. I�ve been thinking about it, and
it doesn�t make sense that he should have severe injuries all over his body,
even if part of the Mirror Maze�s purpose is to hand control of his body�s
healing over to an enemy. At most, the ordinary maze should have reflected damage
onto one particular part of his body, say the heart, like a lens focusing
sunlight. Instead, we have wounds of almost equal severity all over the place.
That would reflect a Mirror Maze turned sideways. There are similar cases in
the literature.�

�� And that�s
more dangerous?� Malfoy�s voice had grown tense. Harry reminded himself forcibly
that Malfoy might be annoying and given to flirtation in inappropriate
circumstances, but that didn�t mean he felt indifferent towards seeing his
father die. He was to be pitied.

�� Yes, it
is,� Harry said quietly. �It means that the maze can be bent in several
directions at once, not only one, like a flexible lens. And until I can be sure
of what the other spells in the maze are, I can�t dissipate it.�

�� Malfoy
closed his eyes, and all the lines in his face went tense. Harry had seen the
look before, on the faces of people trying desperately not to give in to tears
or pain. And in that moment, Malfoy became a patient to him, and he reacted
without thinking.

�� He reached
out and put his right hand over Malfoy�s, then stood up and laid his left hand
on Malfoy�s shoulder. �It�s all right,� he whispered. �It�s going to be all
right. I�m certain I can figure this out.�

�� Malfoy opened
his eyes and stared steadily at him. �I want to believe that,� he whispered, �but
I find myself faltering.�

�� Harry
smiled at him. �I know. It�s because I�m not a full Healer, and I used to be
your enemy. But I promise��

�� That�s not
it at all!� Malfoy snapped. �I just feel this way because he�s my father, and someone cursed him, and we don�t know who.
You�re part of us now, and that means I can believe you�ll do a good job better
than I can believe it of anyone in the world.� He stood up in the circle of
Harry�s arms and leaned towards the right side of his face. Harry expected a
whispered admonition in his ear to heal Lucius or else.

�� Instead,
Malfoy brushed a delicate kiss against the skin beneath Harry�s ear, and then grabbed
him and embraced him tightly. Harry blinked and tried not to squawk, and held
him back.

�� Malfoy stepped
away at last, gave Harry another faint smile without a trace of embarrassment,
and then picked up the parchment map he�d shown Harry earlier. �Shall we?� he
asked. �I thought I�d escort you to visit Father the first time. And he�ll want
to hear from both you and me how you�ve spent the night.�

�� Why?� Harry
asked, turning his head self-consciously away, as if that would keep Malfoy
from seeing his blush. The place beneath his ear that Malfoy had kissed was
burning like pale fire.

�� In case I�ve
noticed an addition to your comfort that could be made, which you haven�t noticed
yourself,� Malfoy said gently. �We treat members of our family well, Harry.
Now. Shall we?� He held open the door.

�� Harry took
a deep breath and followed Malfoy. He wished his head wasn�t whirling and his
feet didn�t feel fit to stumble, but he was sure he would manage to act
professional. He always did.

�� If not for the
sidelong glances Malfoy sent him as they went along�admiring, but not trying to
press the point, exactly the sort of looks Harry would have hoped to see from
someone who liked him in a situation like this�he might even have convinced
himself.

*

�� Jilliane:
The explanation Draco gives Harry in this chapter, of blood-sharing, is the
true one. But it still has implications that Harry might not see just because he
doesn�t know how to ask the right questions.

�� YanaYugi:
Let�s say that Harry is going to act like a prat by Draco�s definition.

�� gentlenightrain:
If Harry stopped and thought about it, he might realize that neglecting himself
when he has to help someone else is not the wisest strategy.

�� Lina03: Thank
you! The mystery behind Lucius�s smile must remain intact for now, since Harry
isn�t thinking about it that much.

�� Mangacat:
Thank you! The notion of �power� between Harry and Draco will continue to flow
back and forth as they learn more about each other and as their goals become
more compatible. Hey, they already have one in common: getting Lucius better.

�� Thrnbrooke:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� Luvdonite:
The problem, as Harry sees it, is that he�s absolutely sure the Malfoys can�t
really love him as part of the family.

�� avihenda: Thank
you! Draco is taking the subtle route for now, though.

�� And I think
Harry�s weakness extends to people treating him kindly in general. He�s not
used to it right now, except from his friends.

�� qwerty: At
the very least, Healer Pontiff will continue to appear as Harry�s source of
comfort and advice.

�� js: Thanks
for reviewing!

�� ElfHybrid:
Here�s the next chapter!

�� hieisdragoness18:
He did spend some time relaxing in this chapter.

�� Celestialuna:
Thanks for reviewing!

�� GoddessMoonLady:
Well, I�m sure you�ve noticed the difference in Draco�s flirting strategy in
this chapter! Let�s say he�s trying.

�� MewMew2:
Thank you for reviewing!
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Bloody But Unbowed