Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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

Chapter List
- 87
- 88
- 89
Family
Narcissa stood in her favorite garden. It faced west, so even though the sun was beginning to rise, she and it were still cast in twilight shadows. She’d forgone a winter robe and stood in a heavy maroon, long-sleeved dress. The air froze the exposed skin of her face and hands and slush covered the flowers around her, but it would melt under the sun once it rose high enough to do so.
She shivered, arms wrapped tight around her, her hair a long, but the cold was clearing her mind. She’d confronted Lucius yesterday as she’d planned. She’d learned things she hadn’t expected, and she was so damn angry.
…
Narcissa folded her hands at the small of her back to hide their shaking and strode into Lucius’s office with her head held high. It was a few hours after noon. It had taken her that long to bathe, dress, eat, and bolster herself for this confrontation. She looked impeccable. She wore an expensive maroon dress with exquisite black embroidery around the bottom of the skirt and on the sleeves. A fat ruby hung around her neck and small rubies graced her ears. She’d left her long, thick hair braided down her back, not having the strength to pin it up in her usual coils. Small touches of make-up emphasized her eyes and lips. She was ready.
She hadn’t expected his office door to be open. Or for her husband to be at his desk with his head in his hands and a half empty glass of firewhisky, a commoner’s drink, next to his elbow. The bottle lay empty on the floor. The room smelled of sour sweat and strong alcohol and she felt a powerful stab of guilt that she’d caused him so much grief.
“Lucius,” she called, voice firm yet soft, knowing his head must pound.
Blood-shot grey eyes lifted to see her. His hair was tangled and wild around his face and shoulders. He was unshaven. There was an air of utter defeat about him. She crossed the distance between them in quick strides, but she hesitated to reach out to him as she normally would have done. Her core was still raw and throbbing from being stripped of her rightful connection to the Malfoy home and wards. The pain she’d felt at his hands was not easy to forget.
“Lucius, I will find her,” she promised, soft and reassuring. “She will not live to hurt our son again.”
He laughed. It wasn’t a sound of joy. It was mean. At first Narcissa tensed, a blush of shame on her cheeks, thinking he laughed at her, but then she realized he was laughing at himself. Lucius put his hand on an old, leather-bound book and shoved it across the desk. He used too much force and it fell at her feet.
“I would keep it secret and deal with it myself, but I made an Unbreakable Vow. It will demand that I inform Draco as soon as he wakes or die, so there’s no point keeping it from you.” He grabbed his glass and downed the last of the whisky. “I will make sure what was inside is utterly destroyed, but I will lose my son’s trust forever because I let it escape, however temporarily.”
Narcissa picked up the book. It was a diary, a nice one but old. There were no words written inside. Confused, she turned it over and read the gold-emblazoned name: Tom Marvolo Riddle. Time seemed to slow. She felt outside of her body somehow. Her voice, when she spoke, held no inflection.
“What did you do?”
“I discovered the secret to Harry’s black core,” Lucius answered, an ugly smile stretching his features. “I had no idea what that book was when the Dark Lord gave it to me to safeguard. All I knew was that it was worth my life should I fail in my duty to protect it, but Lovegood’s research made it all so clear.”
“Lucius…” Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me.”
“The ancient and Dark Art of the Horcrux,” he told her, eyes fevered. “The Great and Terrible Dark Lord created a Horcrux when he was merely sixteen years of age and stored it in this diary. On purpose or not, he did the same with Harry on Samhain ten years ago. Harry’s mysterious Dark core is none other than a piece of the Dark Lord’s very soul.”
Narcissa saw red. “You’ve had this diary all these years. You knew what it was since September. You’ve been talking with it.” Her hand clenched around the leather binding making it creak. “You’ve been talking with the soul of the man destined to try to destroy our son and his bonded. Because you thought you were clever. Because you wanted an advantage.” Furious blue eyes, bright and clear as crystals flashed up. “Foolish Lucius. Always making the same mistakes over and over in your bid for power.”
Lucius laughed again, drunk and miserable.
“Crucio,” she rasped almost before she knew she was going to, before she even realized her wand was in her hand and pointed at her husband.
He’d torn her to shreds. He’d humiliated her. He’d left her broken and sick. Well, now it was her turn. Her magic fluctuated wildly. She wasn’t well enough to cast such a powerful spell, but it was Winter, it was the Dark of the year, and she needed revenge more than she needed air.
Lucius screamed in perfect agony as every nerve in his body was lashed with a Dark and terrible purpose. It was the burn of fire over every inch of skin, it was stomach acid melting your insides, the breaking of bones as they snapped again and again. Lucius had fallen out of his chair. His body seizing as he screamed and screamed. She could only hold it for fifteen seconds, but those fifteen seconds felt like a lifetime.
She was on her knees, panting. She could just see Lucius’s head and shoulders from where he’d fallen on the floor behind his desk. His hair covered his face, but she could hear the broken whimpers that escaped his raw throat. She could smell urine. He’d pissed himself.
Books flew from the shelves. Items on the desk were flung at the wall. Her magic flared wildly, painfully, around her. Nausea made her stomach turn over uneasily as the room took on a swaying quality, but she didn’t regret casting that spell. Clumsily, she pushed to her feet. She made sure to pocket both the now-empty diary and her wand. She left her husband to recover on the floor, a broken thing.
She blacked out in the hallway at some point. When she came to, she got back on her feet and staggered to her room. She had potions there and took a few to help stabilize her core. Then she’d found her way out to her garden to sit in the dark and the cold.
…
Narcissa took out the book, the sun streaking the sky with gold and pink. It was empty, only the name marking it as extraordinary. She knew now why Bella had waited until the Solstice to escape. Her sister was hopelessly obsessed and in love with the Dark Lord. Bella must have been over the moon to feel a piece of his soul so close. Bella now knew that Draco was bonded to Harry. That meant the Dark Lord knew.
It didn’t matter in the end. Draco wouldn’t want it any other way. He had barely agreed to keep his claim to Harry a secret and had only complied because society would never except such a claim while they were so young, but that same restraint did not apply to enemies. Draco wanted anyone coming for Harry to know they would deal with him first. She regretted how much information Bella, and through her the Dark Lord, had on her sons, but that wasn’t her main concern.
Her mind raced, cold and precise, as her hands mindlessly turned the diary over again and again. The Dark Lord’s soul was still out there, otherwise the diary would have been influencing them long before now to resurrect it. Also, Harry would be more affected by the soul he bore if the Dark Lord were truly dead. It would have sought to possess him.
That meant there was a soul still out there, conscious and actively working at resurrection, which allowed the diary and Harry’s Black core to remain dormant. Lucius had fucked with the diary, though, instead of destroying it, and now Bella had the soul that was inside. There was even a chance that with all this interference that soul had taken advantage of the attention and was also attempting rebirth.
That meant there were possibly two Voldemorts in their future. Lucius had precipitated the very thing he feared. The Dark Lord was coming back, sooner rather than later, and her children were not yet twelve years old. They weren’t ready.
Narcissa’s hands clenched around the leather book. She knew what she had to do. She had to find Bella and somehow delay the resurrection. Delay it and somehow discover or create any weaknesses that she could. She would not allow her sons to be destroyed. If she had to fight Dark Lords and mad sisters, she would. She turned to look back at the manor, a cold smile brushing her lips. And Lucius was going to help her do it.
…
Ron knew he was dreaming. It was a nightmare; it had to be! He was drowning. The giant squid had him around the throat. It was choking him. He was trying to fight it off, but it wouldn’t let him go. The tentacles were everywhere, wrapped all around him. He was scared, so scared, but no matter what he did he couldn’t breathe. And with sick realization he knew he couldn’t get free because he was already dead. Dead and never coming back from the cold, dark waters of the lake…
With a choked scream, Ron sat bolt upright in bed. He was panting so hard that his head spun. Someone was holding him, saying something, and he scrambled over the edge of the bed until he fell hard on the cold floor. “Get off me!” he shrieked, terrified. His throat hurt. Had he been screaming?
Harry sat back on his heels, eyes wide as he watched Ron have a panic attack on the floor. He took a deep breath and moved to the edge of the bed, speaking softly the way he would for Draco. “It’s okay, Ron. You’re safe. It’s not real. It was just a dream. You’re at Hogwarts. You’re alright. No one’s here who will hurt you.”
Ron curled up into a tight ball. The fear wouldn’t let go. The image of the unicorn hit him with the force of a truck. He hadn’t understood. Not really. It’d been sad and horrible, but he hadn’t understood.
“Ron…” Harry stared worriedly down at his friend. “Let me help you. Please.”
Ron shook his head hard, but he was beginning to wake up. His sobs were slowing. Eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, he pushed up off the cold floor so that he was sitting. His arms shook and his face hurt. He must have hit it when he fell. He wiped his robe sleeve across his nose and eyes, sniffing.
“It’s okay. That’s it. You’re safe now.” Harry climbed down to sit next to him and this time when he put his arms around Ron’s shaking shoulders his friend didn’t shove him away. Harry closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Ron’s neck, searching for the warmth that lived down deep inside him.
Ron felt it, something warm sinking into his skin. The ache in his face and throat began to fade, his muscles unlocked, even his shivering calmed. “Harry,” he rasped tearfully. “Sorry.” He sniffed again and wrapped his arms around Harry, returning his hug. “Never had a dream like that before.” He shivered and laughed nervously, but the truth was he was still scared.
“It’s okay,” Harry said again and pulled away. His hair was messier than ever, his green eyes brighter when he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Let’s get some breakfast. That always makes you feel better.”
Ron gave a wan smile. He still looked too pale and shaken up, but he was trying. “Yeah.”
They dressed warmly, preparing for their trip to see Remus. They didn’t speak much. Percy was in the common room reading. He gave them a warm smile and joined them on their walk to the Great Hall. Percy noticed his brother’s subdued behavior and pale complexion, but when he asked if Ron was alright, his brother wouldn’t really answer, just saying he didn’t sleep well.
Ron hardly touched his breakfast, but he grew angry when Percy suggested that he should see the nurse. “I’m not sick, okay!” Ron snapped. “Just leave me alone!”
“Good morning, boys,” Headmaster Dumbledore greeted them cheerfully as he did every morning. “Tomorrow is Christmas. Are you looking forward to it?”
Ron perked up a bit as he remembered the holiday. “Yes, sir.” He looked to Percy. “Wonder what we’re getting this year.”
Percy answered seriously, “A sweater.”
Ron felt a reluctant smile turn his lips up. “Besides that!”
“Headmaster, I was wondering if I could go into Hogsmeade today,” Harry spoke up, looking at Dumbledore with innocent eyes. “I’d like to go shopping for a few small things for my family and friends and maybe see Remus to wish him Happy Christmas.”
Dumbledore stroked his long white beard thoughtfully, his blue eyes twinkling. “That sounds delightful, Harry, but I’m not sure it’s safe. I promised your guardians I wouldn’t let anything more happen to you.”
“I’ll accompany them, sir,” Percy offered, back straight and chin up.
Dumbledore gave the teenager a smile. “Well, in that case, I don’t see why not. Make sure you are back well before dinner.”
“Yes, sir!” Harry promised earnestly.
On the walk to the village, Ron tugged Harry closer and asked him a question that had been bugging him. He made sure to keep his voice low so that Percy couldn’t over hear. “How’d you know that spell? In the forest. You know, for the unicorn?”
Harry pushed his glasses higher up his nose. It was cloudy today, the temperature cold. His breath fogged in front of his face and he tucked his red and gold scarf closer around his neck. “I’m Pagan. Narcissa has taught me all the major rituals.”
Ron thought he should be surprised, but he really wasn’t. “So you don’t believe in God or Jesus?”
Harry didn’t really know much about the Church. He knew the basics, but he’d never been to a service. He didn’t think the Scourer’s exorcism counted. “I don’t know. Are they really that different?” he asked curiously. “I thought the Church said God’s in all things. That’s what I believe, too.”
Ron was curious now. “Do you believe in Heaven and Hell?” Ron did. He knew if you were evil and worked Dark magic your soul went to Hell. It was only right.
Harry shrugged. “If there is Hell, I would belong there, I think,” he said sadly. He could hear it again, the latin chants, the Scourers calling him evil.
Ron stopped dead in his tracks. He grabbed Harry’s arm and made him stop with him. “What?” He stared at his friend in horror. “Why would you say that?”
Harry nervously tucked his chin down so that the bottom half of his face was covered by his scarf. He didn’t dare meet Ron’s eyes. “I was filthy before, disgusting. Still am really,” he said honestly. “But Draco saved me. I’m Draco’s now, so… So I guess I’d go to Heaven.” He flushed red, embarrassed to even suggest that he deserved something good, but he really couldn’t imagine Draco anywhere else and he belonged to Draco. Uncomfortable, he turned away from Ron and his questions to hurry after Percy.
Ron stared dumbly as he watched his friend chase after his older brother. It felt like like Ron’s whole world had shifted and he was seeing Harry for the first time.
Harry was amazing! He was kind and thoughtful and giving. He worked so damn hard all the time. No way in a million years even one toe of Harry’s deserved to go to Hell, but for the first time Ron really understood that Harry didn’t think so. Harry thought he was something bad and only Draco could make him think anything different.
Ron still didn’t know what had happened to make the bond between his friends so strong, but for the first time he really understood how important Draco was to Harry. Draco was alright most of the time, but he was bossy as hell and kind of stuck up. He made all the decisions when they were together, which could be really annoying sometimes. Ron had accepted that, they were friends after all, but he never really liked liked him. This, though, showed him that maybe it was that bossy attitude that Harry could believe in. It’s what saved Ron’s best friend and was continuing to save him, and Ron was truly grateful for that.
“Ron!” Percy stood at the top of the road. He had to cup his hands around his lips for his little brother to hear. “Are you coming?”
Ron waved back at him and shouted, “Coming!”
Hogsmeade was a sleepy little town with small cottages, quaint little shops and restaurants. Dark green garland and wreaths hung over doorways and created repeating arches over the street, fairy lights were strewn here and there, and snowmen waved on street corners and threw snowballs at passerby's. The smell of cinnamon and apples lingered on the cold breeze.
The village was busier than they had expected. Hogsmeade was pretty famous and saw a good bit of tourism, especially at holidays. Despite the cold temperature, there were quite a few people dressed in thick robes or heavy cloaks filling the street with laughter and happy voices.
Harry looked into a shop that sold sweets. It was packed. Many walked out with cups of hot cocoa in their hands. Another shop sold small gifts. People came out with brightly wrapped packages tied with wide red ribbon. The happy atmosphere made the three boys feel lighter somehow.
A young woman smiled at them as they walked past. She stood outside a cafe and had candied apples on a tray. “Care for a slice?” she called with good cheer, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
Percy checked on the boys and was surprised to see neither seemed all that interested. He gave the woman a polite refusal and kept walking. A frown marred his features as he kept Ron in the corner of his eyes. Ron never turned down free samples.
A group of carolers turned the corner. Bells were charmed to float and chime prettily above them as they sang hymns. Percy carefully maneuvered around the cheerful group, the boys following close on his heels. Again, neither of the boys seemed all the interested in stopping to listen. Percy was now certain that this trip wasn’t an innocent visit to the village. Harry and Ron were on a mission. With this in mind, Percy picked up the pace. The quicker they made it to Mr. Lupin’s, the quicker he’d learn just what was going on.
…
Remus spent the morning tiding up the house and baking a few snacks for the boys. His thick, grey-streaked, dirty-blond hair had been brushed and he’d made sure to shave. His hair had gotten longer now, falling into his eyes, but it wasn’t quite long enough to tuck behind his ears.
The scars on his face - the long one across the bridge of his nose, the puckers on both cheeks - had been faded by time, but a fresh cut bisected his left eyebrow. It was thick and scabbed. It’s location made it impossible to bandage without blinding himself in one eye, so he left it off. He had other scrapes on his arms, chest, and legs from his stint as a werewolf, but his clothes fortunately kept them hidden.
Technically, he should still be resting. The full moon had been only two nights ago on the Solstice. Whenever the full moon coincided with a day of Power, he’d go deeper into his wolf than usual, so he still felt the wolf’s instincts riding high even two days later. His eyes had yet to lose their wolf-gold color and they wouldn’t for about a week. In exchange, the actual transformation had been less physically painful, which explained why he was able to walk and move easily so soon after.
He heard footsteps breaking through the snow on his sidewalk several minutes before the boys reached his door. He felt strung tight with excitement. It had been four months since he’d seen his pack, not counting that encounter his wolf-form had with them after Samhain. Remus opened the door with a wide smile, eyes immediately searching for Draco, and when he didn’t find him, latching onto Harry.
The dark-haired boy smiled up at him sweetly. He was bundled up in a heavy cloak and scarf. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, but he looked well enough. Remus knelt and pulled the boy into his arms.
“Harry,” he said warmly. “It’s good to see you.” He reluctantly released him and welcomed the two Weasley boys inside. “Come in out of the cold. Can I fetch you some tea? I made some cookies to go with.”
“Yes, please,” Percy accepted politely, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door behind them.
Remus wore only a sweater over his slacks. He’d made sure the cottage was nice and warm. A steady fire burned in the fireplace in the living room, which anchored the Heating Charms he’d refreshed. “Harry, help me in the kitchen, would you?” he asked as casually as he could.
Harry obediently followed him into the kitchen after hanging his cloak and scarf on a thick peg by the door. Ron and Percy settled on the couch set at an angle to the cackling fire.
As soon as they were out of sight of the Weasleys, Remus asked, “Where’s Draco?”
Harry’s answer was solemn. “He’s sleeping in the Infirmary. On the Solstice, a Winter God came to us. I danced, but Draco was taken to some test. The God promised Draco would return stronger, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”
Remus stared. If he’d had hackles, they’d be raised. “What happened?” he demanded.
Harry ducked his head shyly and shifted his feet. “It’s a long story.” Without meeting Remus’s eyes, he went to the stove and put the kettle on to boil.
Remus frowned. “Do Ron and Percy know?”
Harry nodded. “The basics, anyway.”
“Then I’m sure it’s a story we’d all like to hear, if you think that’d be okay?”
Harry gave a shrug, still refusing eye contact.
Remus led the way back into the living room where the boys had shed their outerwear. Ron and Percy sat side-by-side on the couch. Ron looked a little pale and subdued, his usual enthusiasm missing. Percy, with his horn-rimmed glasses and serious dark eyes, looked more tense than normal, even for him. Remus had to squelch a growl. Something bad was happening at Hogwarts.
Remus set the tea tray on the coffee table and Harry mirrored him with the big plate of cookies. Remus kept his eyes on Harry as he served everyone. No one bothered with small talk. The only sound in the room was the softly crackling fire and the clink of china.
Eventually everyone had what they wanted and were ready to hear Harry’s story. Remus had taken the armchair across from the couch and Harry chose the armchair next to him. Harry’s bangs hid his eyes from view as he stared down at his lap, but his voice was even and sure when he spoke.
“Narcissa and Lucius came to celebrate the Solstice. Draco and Lucius got into an argument and we stepped outside for some air.” Harry turned the cup in his hands clockwise. “It was so bright and cold in the courtyard. We were talking and then there was a flash of light, a blast of cold… It didn’t feel like I was at Hogwarts anymore.”
Remus, Percy, and Ron held their breath, eyes wide as the story took a mystical turn.
“The god stepped out of the snow. She was ancient, looked older than Dumbledore even, but powerful, too, with long silver hair, tangled and free. Her eyes looked like the night sky with hundreds of bright stars. She spoke to me. Told me to dance, to help Draco find his way back. I could feel it, winter all around me, and it was cold and beautiful. I thought of how much I love Draco and how amazing winter is and I danced.”
Remus blushed, remembering the dance at Samhain and how that had ended. Let’s just say the woman who were present walked away from that night pregnant.
Ron had been too young to remember that time with any clarity, but he could feel it in his gut how magical it would be to see Harry dance like that.
Harry’s voice became soft, almost dreamy. “At some point I realized I was in a gown with heels and bells on my ankles. It felt amazing, so I danced harder. I don’t know for how long, but the god came back to me. She danced with me. She held me close and guided our steps. She told me I had done well and Draco had made it through, but he still needed to take a test.”
Harry’s head lifted, his voice becoming sharper with anxiety. “The god told me that Draco would come back stronger, that I had to go and wait for him. I wanted to stay, but the god spun me and I stepped out of a curtain of snow to see I was in the courtyard. Narcissa and Dumbledore were there. Draco was there, too, but he was lying on the ground, sleeping. We went to the Infirmary, but Madam Pomfrey couldn't wake him up. She said he was in a coma. All we can do is wait…” Harry looked up at Remus pleadingly, “I check on him everyday! I make sure to give him my healing magic.”
Remus reached over to cover Harry’s hand where it rested tensely on Harry’s knee. “I know you do. I’m sure you’re doing a great job.”
Harry’s head bowed forward again, neither agreeing or disagreeing with Remus’s statement.
Ron and Percy sat speechless, staring at their friend in awe.
“You know how to destroy the stone,” Harry spoke quietly.
Remus’s hand tightened around Harry’s. “Yes, but…”
Harry’s head came up and he met Remus’s eyes. His own were green and hard. “I need to know.”
“Why? Flamel has never revealed where it is or even what it looks like,” Remus protested. It had seemed like such a random thing to need to know. “And even if you knew where it was, destroying it isn’t an easy task.”
“I need to know,” Harry insisted.
“Why don’t we wait for Draco to wake up,” Remus stalled, he turned his attention to the two redheads with the intent to change the subject. He took his hand away from Harry and moved as if to take a cookie or to offer one.
“No, Remus, I need to know now,” Harry repeated and this time there was an edge to his voice.
Remus’s head whipped around to stare in shock.
Harry met his stare head on, determination clear on his features. “I need to know how to destroy the Stone. It’s really, really important.”
Remus narrowed his eyes. “I think you need to explain what’s going on, then.”
Harry’s face flushed in frustration, his hands clenched. He was half turned in his chair so he could face Remus. Tears stung his eyes even as his heart beat hard in his chest. Draco had left him a mission. He had to protect the stone from falling into the Dark’s hands. He had to destroy it! But Remus didn’t trust him. Not like he trusted Draco. To know what he was doing, and let’s face it, Harry didn’t really.
Harry would do everything he possibly could and more to make sure the Stone was destroyed, because Draco needed it done, and he’d do anything for Draco, but the reality was he’d likely not be enough. Because he was weak. Because he would always fall short. It made him feel sick. He was garbage. But he already knew that, anyway. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t stop doing it just because he was useless.
He looked to Ron, but Ron just stared back with wide eyes and a pale face. He had no answers. Percy was sitting on the edge of his seat, clearly just as interested in what was going on, but Harry couldn’t tell them, could he? What if Remus tried to get the Stone moved somewhere outside of the school? How would Harry destroy it then? Then again Dumbledore seemed pretty set on keeping it at Hogwarts, but if Remus ran to the school scared Harry was going to get hurt trying to destroy it, Dumbledore might make it harder to get to or somehow keep Harry away from it. Then the Stone would get stolen and Draco would be devastated.
No, he’d be beyond devastated. Harry knew that the Stone was a key piece in possibly bringing back Voldemort. If Voldemort came back, Harry knew Draco would stand against him. Draco and Harry, too, of course. Harry would fight to the death to keep Draco safe, but if he failed and Draco was hurt…
The sense of a black pit opened up deep inside his gut. It was gaping and bottomless and would swallow him whole if Draco ever disappeared. Harry wouldn’t survive it. That blackness would consume him. It would become all.
“Just trust me,” he whispered, desperate. “I need to know how to destroy it.”
Remus frowned. “Harry…”
Harry’s fingers dug into the arm of the armchair. “I’m asking. Please. How do you destroy the Stone?”
Remus’s eyes went wide. “Merlin. Are you in trouble? What’s going on? Harry, tell me.”
Harry ducked his head and got up. He didn’t look at any of them. He felt ashamed. Remus could see how useless he was, that’s why they wouldn’t help him. Without a word to anyone, he crossed the room to the entrance way and began to pulled on his winter cloak. He was reaching for his scarf when Remus put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. Remus knelt and turned Harry to face him. Over Remus’s shoulder, Harry could see Ron and Percy watching with wide, worried eyes. Harry’s stomach churned queasily. He was fucking all of this up, but he didn’t know what else to do.
“Harry! Tell me what’s going on!” Remus demanded, grabbing Harry’s attention. “I’m here to help you!”
Harry wrung his hands, face pale with stress. “Then tell me how to destroy it.”
“If I tell you, will you tell me what’s going on, then?” Remus ducked his head, trying to catch the boy’s eyes. “I want to help. Please let me help you.”
Harry bit his lip. Remus’s golden eyes bored into him, so sincere. “If I tell you, then you might prevent me from doing what I have to do.” His hands practically strangled each other. “I know I’m bad, but I’m going to do it, Remus. I’m going to make sure I get it done. I have to. For Draco. It’s really, really important.”
Remus struggled. He could see that whatever this was about, it was important to Harry and was very dangerous. Remus could feel his pulse pound in his temple. He wanted to snarl and force it out of the boy and shake the idea that he was bad right out of Harry’s head. Instead, he took a shaky breath in and made a decision.
“Harry, we’ve been through a lot. You and Draco… You’re my family.” His hands tightened on the small shoulders in his hands. He stared hard into the boy’s wide green eyes, trying to get Harry to understand. “I don’t think you or Draco fully understand what that means. It’s why I left my sickroom when I’ve never left it before last Samhain. I could feel you guys close and I was driven to be with you. You and Draco, you come first. Always. So if it’s best for you and Draco to do this thing, then I won’t stop you. But I can help you, Harry. It’s not a bad thing to need help, and isn’t it more important that whatever it is gets done no matter how? It sounds like it’s really important.”
Harry looked away. He didn’t know what to do. He wrapped the scarf again and again around his hand tight enough to cut off circulation. He wished Draco were here. He’d know what to do.
The silence stretched painfully long. Ron was about to shout it all out just to break the tension when Harry finally spoke.
“The Stone’s in the castle.”
Harry’s stare was almost a physical weight, making Remus hold his breath. It felt like he was being weighed and measured. There was a grimness to Harry’s stare, as if he knew this could end badly for him and he was prepared to endure a punishment for miscalculating.
“Dumbledore’s hiding it there because it was already almost stolen from Gringotts. Draco’s tried to make Dumbledore destroy it, but he won’t because he doesn’t have permission from Flamel. But it has to be destroyed because someone Dark is trying to get it and use it to bring back Voldemort.” Harry reached out and grabbed his shoulder, trying to make Remus understand. “Don’t you see? At first Draco wanted it gone because it’s dangerous with the Dark spy at school, but if the Stone was moved away, we couldn’t get to it anymore. It’s really, really important that we destroy it, Remus, while we still can so that it can’t be used later.”
Remus yanked Harry into a tight hug. “Thank you. For trusting me,” he said roughly, his mind racing. The Sorcerer’s Stone was at Hogwarts? A Death Eater was, too? Damn it, the boys were in danger! He wanted to growl dangerously. What the hell was Dumbledore playing at up in Hogwarts?
Harry’s eyes went wide as Remus’s wavy hair tickled his nose. His heart beat hard in his chest. Was it okay? Had he done the right thing by telling Remus? He still wasn’t sure and the anxiety made his stomach churn painfully.
Remus finally released Harry. The boy was giving him such a lost look it about broke his heart. “There is a serum,” he explained. “Vivificantis. It is the most corrosive substance known to wizards. Even though no one knows for sure how the Stone is made, it should be able to break apart even a Sorcerer’s Stone, but I’m not sure what we could do to prevent Flamel from creating another.”
Harry reached up to grip Remus’s forearms tight, the man’s hands still holding him loosely by both shoulders. “Do you have some?”
Remus shook his head. “It’s made with some pretty powerful ingredients, including Basilisk venom. It’s so strong that it can only be stored in a specially prepared container, and if you use it, you have to protect your lungs and eyes because the fumes will scar them. If it comes into contact with your skin, your nerves die so fast that it doesn’t even hurt. If exposed to your bloodstream, it will cause multiple organ failure and kill you.”
“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered, horrified. He still sat on the couch, but his attention was fixed on Remus and Harry in the entrance way.
Percy had one pale next to him, his eyes were wide.
Remus took his arms back and gently coaxed Harry into taking off his cloak and hanging up his scarf before leading him back to the armchair. “I thought you and Draco only needed information, so I don’t have any on me, but I’m sure I can find some. It is only the matter of price. Give me a day or two.”
Harry unconsciously clasped the coin necklace through his shirt. “I need it as soon as possible.”
Remus nodded distractedly.“As soon as I get it, I’ll bring it to you. I’m sure Dumbledore wouldn’t mind if I stayed a few days,” he decided and the golden gleam in his eyes made it clear that there was no point arguing with him. For Merlin’s sake, Draco was out of the picture and there was a Death Eater within reach of the boys up at the school! “Now start at the beginning and explain everything. This time leave nothing out,” Remus demanded.
…
Ron and Harry got dressed for bed without talking. It had been a long day. After visiting with Remus, they picked up a few things in the shops to justify their trip, but the weight of the Stone put a cloud over their visit. They’d had a long lecture from Percy, too, about keeping such a dangerous mission to themselves. Harry had merely shrugged since it had been Draco’s idea. The twins had sensed the tension at dinner and had grown sulky when none of them would explain what had happened at the village.
Ron cringed, fully expecting to be pranked in the near future. He crawled into bed with Harry, but he couldn’t settle. The dream from the night before came back as strong as ever and sent anxiety shivering down his nerves. He tossed around for a few minutes before he noticed that Harry wasn’t sleeping, either. Ron turned onto his side to face his friend more comfortably, but Harry kept his gaze on the ceiling.
“Can’t sleep?” Ron asked carefully, heart beating double time and trying to hide it.
“I hope it was okay to tell Remus and Percy,” Harry confessed, clearly miserable.
“They’re on our side,” Ron said, trying to reassure his best friend, but it fell flat. He was beginning to sweat and his stomach felt filled with led. He frowned and sat up. This wasn’t working. “Come on. Want to explore the castle a bit?” he asked a bit desperately.
Harry shrugged and got out of bed. They put on thick socks and slippers and pulled on their warmest cloak and robes over their pajamas. As soon as they stepped out of the common room, Ron cast Lumos and they began to walk the halls.
The school really did feel different at night, and Ron began to get into their little adventure. They had separated to either side of the hallway to check behind the paintings and statues for secret passages. He gave Harry a genuine smile when he found something an hour later.
“Over here!”
Harry came over to see a very narrow passage just barely taller than Ron behind a suit of armor. It was set between two locked doors that were about thirty feet apart. Harry guessed they were probably old classrooms or guest rooms. Ron had to shuffle through sideways, but Harry only had to turn his shoulders a bit to get through. Full grown adults definitely wouldn’t have fit.
Ron, dust smeared across his cheek and cobwebs in his hair, grinned as they came out on the north side of the school, close to the Transfiguration classroom. “That’ll be bloody useful,” he said cheerfully. “Won’t it, Harry?”
It was the first true smile Harry had seen out of Ron all day. It made Harry relax a bit. Maybe he was doing something right, after all. “Yeah. Yeah, it will,” he said, smiling back.
…
Narcissa cracked open her eyes. Well, she would have if could, anyway. Only one eye actually opened. She hurt. She hurt in places she didn’t even know she could hurt. Her head throbbed, her shoulder was screaming at her. Sharp little stabs from her ribs made taking a full breath impossible. Worse, she felt sore between her legs, a deep pervading ache that mimicked her monthly cramps but was completely different at the same time.
Moaning softly, she turned her head and a bedroom slowly swam into focus. A man sat in a chair just inside her line of sight: older, dark clothes, a severe frown. Narcissa tensed and then gasped as pain from a dozen places hit her like a truck.
Something cold was pressed to the painfully hot side of her face. Something touched her lips. Narcissa realized that, one, she was crying and, two, she had shut her good eye. She cracked it open again and this time she recognized the man. It had been eighteen years since they’d seen each other, but there was no denying that it was Cygnus Black the Third, her father.
It was a small ceramic cup he pressed to her lips. She looked him in the eyes and drank. It was herbal, whatever it was, but it didn’t taste strong. Tears continued to fall down her face. Soft sounds of her pain and the hitching of her breath sounded loud in the silent room.
When she’d finished the herbal tea, Cygnus settled back in his chair and kept staring at her. “I gave you a generalized healing potion. I’m afraid it’s not very strong. You won’t be able to take another dose for at least twelve hours. The tea will have to do in the meantime.”
“Father…” she croaked, feeling a bit lost by his detached and factual tone.
Cygnus sighed and lifted the rag that he’d spelled ice-cold off her face. “Narcissa,” he said calmly.
Narcissa’s heart beat hard in her chest. Adrenaline burned through the pain and soaked her brain, giving her crystal clear focus. “Am I a disgrace, Father?” she asked, voice hushed. “Are you ashamed of me?”
“I brought you in,” Cygnus countered, but it sounded non-committal. “Lucius did this to you?”
Narcissa looked away. “I was an instrument used against him…”
“True.” Cygnus gently took hold of Narcissa’s chin and made her look at him. “But you were ignorant, were you not? Seems a harsh punishment.”
Harsh punishment… Narcissa let tears fill her eyes and blur her vision so that her father would not see the flash of cold anger that made her pulse quicken. Her ribs were certainly cracked if not broken by large, booted feet and she’d been struck with a heavy fist multiple times in the face. Her hair had been severed above her shoulders as she’d been fucked brutally to add to her humiliation.
The worst was still when she’d been stripped in the most brutal way of her connection to wards that she’d been bound to for nearly twenty years. Her core still felt battered. The damage could well be permanent, since her years of searching for Draco had made her core fragile to begin with, and her father called it a harsh punishment, implying that he agreed she should have been punished, but maybe not quite to this extent.
“Father…” she rasped, voice fragile and heavy with tears.
“Who do you blame for all this, Narcissa?” he asked, forcing her to look at him again. “Where will you aim your revenge?”
Narcissa looked her father in the eyes. As soon as she could talk without crying, she said with perfect honesty. “I blame Lucius. It was his responsibility to safeguard our home, safeguard my son. How dare he punish me as if I am the one solely to blame. He kept my sister from me for years. He tortured her in the same house that I slept. I will never forgive him.” She was panting with anger by this point, which made her ribs scream in agony. Narcissa held them carefully, a cry of pain rising from her.
Cygnus shushed her and tended to her the best he could, but he wasn’t a healer and he couldn’t risk bringing one into the house. He had given her the basic healing potion that he knew to make, but there was a lot of damage all told. It would take several days for Narcissa to heal.
“Now you see, sister. You see that I was right to do what I did.”
Bellatrix came in through the darkened doorway. Her blue eyes were as manic as her bloodless grin. She walked slowly and with difficulty. Cygnus leapt up to assist her, but Bella refused the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand stroked Narcissa’s hair away from her battered face.
“Draco would have been crushed by that man. I told you, sister, that I saved your Draco. I told you.”
Narcissa sucked in a breath and closed her eyes.
Bella kept stroking her hair and giggled. “Don’t worry. I know what you are thinking. I have always loved you for that, Cissa. Always worried for someone else.” Her voice drew closer, softer. “I have been speaking to our Lord. Lucius told him some but not all. Our Lord can be magnanimous. He believes it is a waste to destroy Potter. Our Lord’s connection to the boy is clearly Deep Magic at work. It should be studied and understood, not destroyed. Your Draco will have no reason to go against our Lord. He will be safe as long as he and Potter are good little boys.”
Narcissa opened her eye only to flinch. Bella had leaned down close enough that they could kiss if Narcissa tilted her chin up.
“Lucius is a pathetic traitor, cutting the Mark from his soul, and believing he is strong enough to challenge our Great Lord,” Bellatrix hissed, hate and rage thick in her voice. “He would have been killed for that alone, but for this…”
Bella painfully pressed her fingertips and sharp nails into the swollen, bruised side of Narcissa’s face. Narcissa went rigid and had to bite her lip to keep from screaming out loud. “I’ll make sure he suffers.” Bella released her and sat up. A girlish smile was back on her face as she stroked the small rounding of her belly.
Cygnus gently coaxed Bellatrix up, saying she needed to rest as much as possible. Bella let their father guide her out of the room with one last smile in Narcissa’s direction, and then Narcissa was left alone. Narcissa felt like she was going to be sick, but she brutally forced that feeling down. She took stock of her situation.
Lucius had done his part well and, when she’d Apparated to the house where she’d traced her sister, she’d blacked out right there on the sidewalk. The damage to her core and the beating she’d received had not been faked for fear of Bellatrix being able to tell and not letting her in. After all, Bella had been at Lucius’s not so tender mercies for three years. Presumably she would be able to recognize his handiwork or the lack thereof.
Truth be told, Narcissa was lucky it had been her father and not some dangerous Muggle who had taken her in, but it was still a shock. She hadn’t expected to see her father or for him to look at her so coldly. She had to think; she had to plan! There was no room for misstep. She was now inside, close to her sister, but that was only the beginning. She had to protect Draco and Harry from the Dark Lord! She would do whatever it took to make sure her children were safe. Whatever it took.
Chapter end.
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Freedom Bound in Chains