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Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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98. Light Returns
A white mist swirled all around him. As it slowly began to clear, the space he was in took on shape: a large room; no, scratch that, a very large room, with stone walls, a high ceiling, and a strange feeling of home …
Home?
What?
Why on earth had he thought that?
He was sure he had never been here before. His life had been lived out in wide open spaces, not large … he looked around, trying to describe the space he was in to himself. It reminded him of nothing so much as the pictures of stone castles he had seen. Was that where he was? Was that what he was dreaming of?
A dream? No, more than a dream, somehow. Something like this had happened before, Andreas Nott realised, back when he had been in the orphanage, rescuing his beloved Adam, now sleeping soundly in the room next door to his own. He smiled at the thought; it was good to have his son back after so long. It was even better that they had seemed to click together immediately. His son had hardly spent an hour away from him. Even when Andreas went to work, Adam had to come too. Andreas had worried this might cause problems; after all, children weren't exactly common at the nursery. What if Adam got bored, or wasn't wanted?
But his fears had proved groundless. The other men had instantly taken the young lad to heart; and the most smitten seemed to be Old Man Coetzee, the owner of the South African Magical Horticultural Supplies, who was forever making sure the boy was alright, finding him odd jobs to do and telling him how well he did them. Of course he also grumbled about having the youngster underfoot all the time, but that didn't fool anyone.
Smiling at the memory, he looked around curiously. He was still quite certain he had never been here before. And yet the place seemed to hold echoes of familiarity. Something stirred in his mind; not a memory, or rather, not his memory: he felt like this was a place that he knew, not from being here himself, but from someone in his past being here. Someone who had passed the memory on, somehow.
Someone like his parents, perhaps, he thought, and he knew exactly where he must be now.
"Hogwarts," he said softly. But saying it only deepened the mystery: what was a squib doing in a school for wizards and witches?
"Well yes," a voice replied. "Hogwarts as it used to be, anyway."
He turned to see the speaker.
"You!" he sputtered out, momentarily unable to say any more as the blood drained from his face as he stood paralysed in shock. Though in truth, he didn't know the man at all…
"Me," the newcomer said, smiling. And somehow the smile changed everything, releasing Andreas from the spell he seemed to have fallen under.
"You were at the orphanage…" he began. And then his senses seemed to reach out from him, looking for that dark, oily feeling he remembered having felt coming from the man at the orphanage. But it was completely missing. This man felt, by contrast, quite clean.
It couldn't be the man he had seen in that vision.
"Wait, you were the boy, right?" he asked, once the realisation had filtered through.
The other just nodded.
"So, what was that all about? And how come you're here? And who was the wizard – was that Voldemort?"
"So many questions!" was the bemused reply as the other waved the wand that suddenly appeared in his hand, and conjured two rather comfortable armchairs.
"We might as well get comfortable, I suppose."
ooOOoo
Lucius recognised the room as soon as he came back to consciousness. Which was odd really, as he had only been in it once before, perhaps twenty years ago. But there was no way he could forget those dreary tapestries! He stood up and examined them close-up. They had struck him as ghastly the last time he was here, and it appeared that they had not aged well.
This was Godfrey Nott's country house. The room was alright, he supposed. He might even have thought it comfortable, if he had been there of his own free will. There was a pleasant view from large windows out onto a somewhat unkempt garden, and the furniture, while not to his taste, was no doubt comfortable enough.
But 'comfortable enough' hardly made up for having been kidnapped at wand-point and then stupefied. His eyes narrowed. Just exactly what was Messalina Nott playing at? He sighed as he sat on the edge of the sofa. Not for comfort but because it was the most obnoxious chair to look at, so he reasoned that by sitting on it he wouldn't have to look at the damn thing. He still couldn't really imagine any sane scenario that her actions would fit; and worse, he now owed Robin Banks ten galleons.
He didn't have long to ponder; not five minutes after he reawaken there was a sound just outside the door. He rose to his feet as the woman in question walked in.
"My dear Lucius!" she exclaimed, in an oh-so-obviously falsely bright voice, a rather feral grin on her face. "How kind of you to come!"
"Your invitation was very … convincing," Lucius replied drily, with a grimace of his own. "How can I be of service to you?"
"Darling, how delightfully accommodating of you," the witch said as she took a seat and waved him to sit down. "I wanted to talk to you about matters of blood."
Lucius went cold at this. He knew, who better, what 'matters of blood' Messalina must mean. For this was a pureblood code phrase alluding directly to their assumed superiority as pureblooded witches and wizards. A phrase that their set had happily bandied about before the Dark Lord had risen to be so powerful that he would quite naturally see such talk as being rebellious. At that point, such assumptions became openly dangerous and, cowards to a man and woman, they had at once stopped using the phrase.
But here it was, being openly discussed again. No, there was no doubt now. The intelligence that the Aurors had gathered, and Toby Proudfoot and Robin Banks had shared with him, was confirmed. Lucius was quite convinced:
Messalina Nott was the leader of a pureblood rearguard action.
She fully expected his co-operation.
And there were probably very few atrocities she would not commit to get it.
ooOOoo
Harry slowly came to himself. It was the same dreamscape as before. Great, he thought. Hogwarts again. Still, it was at least a known quantity. And, given what he had learnt last time about this place, he wasn't likely to have got here without some reason.
And of course, the last time he had been here had been most enlightening. Meeting Sirius had been a joy; meeting the Mordant had been something else, and had really opened Harry's eyes to forces working very deep indeed.
When Harry had been hit by the killing curse and wound up in the strange replica of King's Cross station, Albus Dumbledore had said that it had been 'Harry's party'. But Dumbledore, he had since learnt, had not known everything. Not, of course, he thought ruefully, that the man had pretended otherwise. But perhaps he could have been a bit more open about the fact. A lot of pain could have been saved if he'd only shared his thoughts earlier.
Still. Here Harry was again. In this realm between life and death. For it turned out that the Resurrection Stone had powers well beyond simply 'bringing back the dead'. The piece of Dementor heart retained their real power: Dementors were not alive or dead in any recognisable sense, but a terrible force at the boundary of life and death, and the Stone also bound together the two realms. Even though Harry had not been holding it when Voldemort's curse hit, the simple fact that it had been given to him freely had transferred its powers to him. It was this that meant he was able to come here again.
Here. The place that the Mordant had explained was what the Egyptian mages called an 'Interspherical Nexus': a place between Spheres, a joining of the Spheres of Tangible and Intangible Presence. As Master of Death, he was able to access the nexus and meet people from the other Spheres. He could, it turned out, even share that privilege. If he wanted; but he did not want to. Really, it was bad enough that he came here, never mind bringing anyone else. The Egyptians, he thought, had it right. Fiddling with the natural progression through the spheres was a very bad thing, in general.
Still, he was here now, and there must be a reason.
Maybe.
"Hello?" he called out.
"Over here!" a familiar voice called out. The Mordant. It figured.
He wandered over, musing on what to call the other. Hang it all, he needed a new name. He had refused the old one, and Harry didn't feel he could go on calling him 'Mordant'. That was a description of the role he played with Harry and Draco, not a name. Though Harry had to admit, the man did look different each time he saw him. He had told Harry that all three of them would be changed by the blending of the Haussmann shield. Harry and Draco had benefitted from the incredible store of knowledge that the Mordant seemed to have, which had made their school-work very easy for eighth year; but the Mordant, too, was getting something out of the – relationship? Is that what it was? Anyway, he seemed to become … lighter, somehow, each time Harry saw him.
Harry was rather shocked out of the small reverie he had fallen into when he realised that the Mordant was not alone. He recognised the other person at once, but then Andreas Nott and his son had only just left Britain, after all, so he was hardly likely that he would have forgotten the likeable man yet.
But that raised more questions than it answered.
"Andreas?" he asked, and Nott smiled in reply. "What – how are you here?"
Andreas's smile broadened. "It's nice to see you, too, Harry," he replied, his tone rather sarcastically pointing out Harry's lack of the usual courteous words. Though the twinkle in his eye said that he wasn't at all bothered by it. In fact, Andreas was not at all surprised: after all, it wasn't every day you came across people you knew in a place you had never been to and had no idea how you got there.
Harry blushed.
The Mordant snickered.
"That's quite a question, Harry," he replied for Nott. "We've just been chatting about it. I'm sure you were introduced to Mr Nott here as a squib; it turns out that that description really doesn't fit any more."
Harry raised an enquiring eyebrow, which simply made the man chuckle.
"Did you hear about the incident at the orphanage?" Nott asked Harry, who nodded in reply. "Well, it seems that I have more magic than my family believes. Our friend here tells me that I'm sort of a Seer-in-training."
"Not 'sort of'," the other man contradicted. "Exactly a Seer-in-training. It's a rare phenomenon, but not unheard of. Severe emotional upheaval can open a rare and wonderful gift. In Andreas's case, the trauma of losing and then being reunited with his son has worked a powerful change."
Harry thought for a moment.
"I see," he said eventually. He looked to the Mordant. "And of course, you had nothing to do with it?"
The Mordant looked at him pointedly.
"As I thought," Harry continued, and turned back to face Andreas. "Well, er, congratulations, I guess!"
"Thank you," Nott replied.
"And..." the Mordant said, with a hesitation in his voice, and Harry knew he was expected to work something further out.
"And this is about... 'Connection', I guess," Harry said.
"And 'Belonging'," the Mordant said, with a note of pride in his voice. "Yes, the raw magic spell you let loose upon us all still has some power, it would seem."
Andreas looked lost. "What spell?" he enquired.
"Ah," the Mordant said, "we were just getting to that when Harry turned up. But perhaps we can take advantage of him being here, and he can tell you the story."
"All right," Harry said. "After the War, I found that Draco and Lucius had lost their magic due to a curse from Vol..."
Here the Mordant looked at him meaningfully, and Harry continued, "... the Dark Lord. Then something in me ... Hang on," he paused, realising his narrative wasn't very coherent. "You know about the three Hallows?"
Andreas nodded. His mother had read him the story of the three Peverell brothers and their special gifts from Death before he had been found out as a squib and disowned.
"Right. Well, I owned all of them. At the time, I was holding the Elder Wand and wearing the Invisibility Cloak; that just left the Resurrection Stone, which I had dropped earlier in the Forbidden Forest. So, there I was with Wand and Cloak, and Draco had had his magic stolen from him. Somehow something in me just reacted to that. I didn't really know what to do, but the Wand obviously did: it Summoned the Stone, and I couldn't think of a spell, so I just said four words, and then, I don't know, it all went white..."
Here Harry's story petered out and the Mordant took it up.
"Harry unleashed all the raw magic that had been stored up in the Elder Wand over time. It wasn't a spell at all, but pure, wild magic. As a result, his words have coloured all the events since."
"How is that possible?" Andreas asked.
"Ah, that has to do with something rather special about Mr Potter," the Mordant replied.
Harry looked at the other quizzically. He hadn't heard about this before.
"Not the 'Boy-Who-Lived' rubbish?" he asked, his voice scathing on the label he hated.
"Well, sort of," the Mordant continued apologetically. "Not that your survival was the thing, but the magic Lily Potter cast."
It was obvious that Harry had no clue what was meant, so the Mordant expanded, "Your mother cast very powerful and ancient magics over you. Somehow, she tapped into some ancestral power of her own that turned her desire to protect you into a potent force all of its own. And you have that power too."
"So what you're saying is that I inherited some different magic? Some sort of Protection magic?"
"Yes, that's it," the Mordant agreed. "And," he mused, "it probably explains your drive to save people. After all, it's hardly surprising that the magic has an effect on you, as well as everyone else."
"Ah," Harry exclaimed, a thought coming to it. "And that would be the power that the Prophesy talked about when it said that I would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not'?"
"Rather than love, like you said Albus Dumbledore said?" the Mordant replied. "Possibly. It does make more sense."
"I see," said Andreas, coming to terms with what was obviously a unique set of circumstances. "And what were the four words?"
"Ah, sorry!" said Harry. "Er... 'Life'... 'Wholeness'... 'Connection'... and 'Belonging'."
"So," Andreas said, turning to the Mordant, "you're saying that I've been connected back to magic? Because of what Harry said months ago?"
The Mordant nodded.
"And 'Belonging'?" Andreas asked.
"You have your family back," the Mordant said succinctly.
Andreas did not say anything in reply, but merely made an 'O' with his mouth.
"So," Harry said, deciding to get back to the previous conversation, "you're a Seer? How does that work in Wizarding circles? Does it mean you're no longer viewed as a Squib, then?"
"Got it in one," Andreas answered. "Squibs are nobody, but Seers are very special."
"... and Messalina Nott is going to be beside herself with anger!" finished the Mordant.
ooOOoo
"And just where do you think you're off to on Christmas Eve, Mister?" Ginny demanded.
Robin gulped. He really, really needed to get going.
Ginny's eyes narrowed.
"Don't give me any of that crap about 'can't tell you', either," she said. "Am I your girlfriend or not? Can't you trust me?"
Robin knew now he had stretched things too far.
"Okay," he said. "Here's the thing. The Aurors have been worried for some time that Dolores Umbridge wasn't just a lone player. She's part of a group of Magicals who have become disenchanted with the whole rebuilding process we've had after the War. They're all Purebloods who still believe that they have a Merlin-given right to rule. So we've been keeping an eye on them as they've been making moves."
Ginny was somewhat happier now: she was getting answers. This was how relationships were supposed to work!
"So what's happening now?"
"Um, well, Lucius Malfoy has sort of set things in motion to antagonise them a bit, and they, um, kidnapped him last night..."
"What!" Ginny exclaimed. "And just exactly why did he let that happen?"
"Um, yeah," Robin floundered. "Well, you know he owes Harry a debt, right?"
"That 'Debt of Magical Emancipation'?" Ginny replied, frowning. "Yeah, I've heard about that; but what does it have to do with Umbridge?"
"Well, we knew that if we told Harry what was going on, he would jump in and try and fix it. And these are not nice people, Ginny. Messalina Nott, the leader of the group which took Lucius, is Umbridge's sister..."
Ginny drew in a sharp breath.
"Quite," Robin said drily. "Dangerous. I'm told she and Umbridge are like peas in a pod."
"So, she's a right bitch, then?"
"So I'm told," Robin agreed. "There's no way Lucius wanted Harry to get wind of it; he would jump in and try to fix it, and put himself in danger..."
"...And the Debt means Lucius has to protect him," Ginny continued as understanding dawned. "So, why do you have to go?"
"Toby and I are going to rescue him," Robin said with a half-smirk.
"Well, get on with it then!" Ginny riposted in mock-exasperation.
Robin didn't need telling twice.
ooOOoo
The conversation had been going on for too long, Lucius felt; Messalina had not become any less loquacious over time. But things did seem to be drawing to a close. Now the fun would really start.
"So that, my dear Lucius, is why the pure-bloods need to rise up and take our place in charge again," Messalina finished.
"No," Lucius said.
"What?" Messalina replied, dumb-founded.
"No," Lucius repeated. "No, we don't have any right to take over. No, we don't need to take charge. Nor do we deserve it. As I see it, the magical world is coming into a much more equable time. The attitudes you espouse are exactly those that lead to the Dark Lord being able to take over."
"Well I suppose I should have expected that reply," Messalina responded venomously. "Since you have welcomed that half-blood" - she spat the word - "into your family. We'll just have to look elsewhere. But don't expect that you'll have any role to play in the new order."
"And if I press charges?" Lucius said softly.
"Try it!" Messalina ground out. "Oh yes, I'd love that. It would force the Wizengamot to have a really good look at just what is going on. It's all about Potter, isn't it? He's taking over! You spout this nonsense about the Dark Lord but he's just as bad!"
"We'll have to see about that," a new voice opined, and the witch turned to see two Aurors walking in on her. "In the meantime, Lord Malfoy, will you be pressing charges?"
"Oh, I think so," Lucius replied.
"Ha! You don't have the guts," Messalina riposted. "And nothing will happen for weeks, anyway, it being Yuletime."
But it turned out she was quite wrong.
ooOOoo
Draco Malfoy was getting rather pissed off.
It was Christmas Eve, a day for being at home with family. A day he usually thoroughly enjoyed. While Christmas Day was wonderful in its own way, involving presents, and visitors and, of course, presents from said visitors, it was always very busy. In contrast, his parents took care to avoid having anything planned for Christmas Eve, and they lounged around together.
But this year, his husband had gone into some sort of trance at dinner last night, and was still out of it. And his father had gone missing last night. It was clear that his mother knew more about that than she was telling, but even though she tried to reassure him that Lucius was quite safe, Draco could tell she was not entirely convinced.
And he was pregnant. Only three months, but it was getting downright uncomfortable. He just wanted his family around him. And back-rubs from Harry. Oh, and sex, of course. And chocolate. That wasn't too much to ask for, was it?
Well, he decided, there was one thing he could do from his list. And that is why, when Hermione Weasley Floo-called Malfoy Manor, she found Draco in the main parlor, consuming chocolate from a large, nearly empty bowl that she rather suspected had been full very recently.
"Hello Hermione," he said rather sulkily. "What can I do for you?"
She looked at him carefully.
"Feeling a bit rough?" she asked, her voice a little teasing, but not unkind.
Draco looked daggers at her. "What do you think?" he replied.
"All right," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "Where's Harry?"
"Out of it," Draco replied, and went on to describe what had happened over the last twelve hours or so, finishing up with asking, "so why are you here today? Apart from catching up, I mean..."
"I've been thinking about your pregnancy," Hermione replied, and then, noticing the stunned expression on Draco's face, "I mean, how it could happen and all."
"And what have you decided?" Draco responded.
"Well, not decided," Hermione admitted, "but I do have a theory."
"Of course you do," another voice said behind her.
"HARRY!" Draco yelled. "Are you okay? What happened? How long have you been awake?"
"Ten minutes, perhaps," Harry replied. "Still a bit woozy. Hermione, what's your theory?"
At this, Draco looked daggers at him. The blond clearly wanted to know all about Harry, and was not in the least bit happy about the blatant change of subject. He said nothing; but his expression made it clear that they would be having a long talk in the near future.
"It's your 'Life, Wholeness, Connection, Belonging' thing," Hermione responded. "You wanted to belong to a family."
"But I do belong to a family," Harry replied, sounding puzzled that Hermione would say something so obvious. "More than one, really. I'm part of the Malfoy and Weasley families."
"And," Hermione continued in that voice that means 'I know you said something but I'm ignoring you', "you wanted a family that descended from you to give wholeness. So your magic made it possible for Draco to be pregnant."
"Wild magic, actually," Harry replied.
"Wild magic?" Draco asked. "But that's … How do you know?"
"A story which will need to wait for another time," came another voice, as Lucius Malfoy stepped through the Floo.
"Father!" Draco exclaimed, but he was interrupted before he could continue.
"Yes, my son. But we have no time to discuss now: Harry, Elphias has called an urgent immediate meeting of the Wizengamot, and you and I are required right now."
And with that, much to Draco's consternation, the two other men vanished back into the Floo network.
"Humpf," Draco said to Hermione. "It's almost like they're deliberately keeping secrets."
"Can't be," Hermione replied. "Harry, at least, is far too honest. When he deliberately tries to keep a secret, his face tells you he's doing it, and a tiny bit of wheedling will bring it out. At least, it works for me!"
And Draco had to agree. Clearly, whatever was going on, Harry was not to blame. Or at least, not entirely to blame. And that wouldn't save him from Draco's wrath when he got back...
If he got back...
And wasn't that a terrifying thought...
ooOOoo
Much to Harry's surprise, the emergency Wizengamot meeting was very well attended. Had people been expecting this to happen? He turned to Lucius.
"How come there are so many people here?" he asked.
"Good question," Lucius replied. "Certainly, the defense seemed to be well mobilised."
Harry looked at him questioningly, and Lucius pointed out a block of people.
"They're the Corners, Jack and Penelope. She's Gawain Robarts' sister. And next to them are the Boots. I think they also have a son in your year?"
"Yeah, must be Terry," Harry replied.
"And..."
But Lucius could not continue, as the trial was brought to order.
ooOOoo
The trial went on for some time, with the usual legal rigmarole that Harry simply tuned out. Lucius explained the circumstances of visiting Dudley and seeing both Aunt Marge and Messalina Nott there, then returning to his office and being kidnapped.
In response, the defence explained that they had been keeping an eye on the woman as she had connections to the magical world, through Harry, 'a circumstance that is surely cause for concern', one witness, identified as Zebulon Smith, opined. Harry suspected he must be related to his former class-mate Zacharias Smith; the two were certainly cut from the same obnoxious cloth.
As for the kidnapping, Messalina didn't seem to defend the charge at all, but rather played it down as simply 'an invitation to discuss Matters of Blood', a phrase that seemed to cause the Wizengamot to draw a sharp collective breath. And it got worse.
"And of course you will all agree that we must ensure that our society is ruled well, as it has been historically, by those who are born to rule: the pure-bloods," Messalina finished.
The Court was in uproar.
It was obvious that Lucius was going to win. What on Earth was Messalina Nott playing at?
All at once, it became clear to Harry, as though a mist parted and a beam of sunlight shone down on the events, placing them in an entirely new light.
He saw it all, in an instant: Messalina Nott did not want to win. She wanted to go to Azkaban as a martyr for the cause. The whole thing was a last-ditch effort from a terrified, marginalized group of pure-blood magicals who would make her a rallying point for their cause. And she was using Lucius and Harry to do so.
"Does anyone else have anything to add?" Elphias Doge said, in a dry voice that clearly expected no reply.
Lucius looked around smugly, as though daring anyone to speak, and then was rather shocked when Harry stood up.
"Er, yeah, actually," he said.
Notes:
Sorry for the long delay. Real life got very hairy. Again.
Grateful thanks as always to the wonderful Bicky Monster for helpful suggestions.
Other locations: See my profile for details about facebook.
Thanks: To all who are following and favoriting! It gives me a lovely warm feeling that you're interested. And double thanks and cake and butterbeer for those who reviewed. Please forgive me if I failed to reply to you.
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