Broken
A/N: This story was inspired by one of the drabbles that was in Ell Roche's collection, Chancing Chaos. I don't know the title of this particular drabble, as she has since removed it from the collection; however, I felt that I should give her credit for the inspiration. It was the drabble where Bellatrix Black claims Harry Potter as her born-bonded, and discusses the pain the boy is in from all of the broken bonds he'd suffered. Though the drabble was removed, I appreciate the inspiration.
Harry looked out over the gathered Death Eaters, his emerald eyes frozen. A smirk graced his pale face, and he shifted minutely as he felt his Lord's magic encase him in warmth and comfort. Riddle stepped up beside Harry, his arm draping over the younger man's shoulders, and looked out over the crowd, smiling victoriously.
"Today is a day we will celebrate. Today, the Light has fallen. Today, my Heir will take his place at my side." Cheers rattled the ballroom as every Death Eater celebrated their freedom. There was no surprise at the announcement; the Death Eaters had helped their master and the Malfoys raise Harry to be the Dark Lord's godson and heir.
Harry had come to them when he was twelve, after he had helped Riddle's diary horcrux become corporeal. By that time, the child was so broken that even the Dark Lord was stunned at the deadness he'd felt emanating from the child. Harry's descent, however, had started when he was but fifteen months old.
OCTOBER 1981
The sounds of fighting and scuffling reached the nursery as Lily Potter desperately tried to erect a suitable enough blood protection shield to save her baby. The thud of a falling body made the woman quiver with grief, knowing that her husband was dead. Harry shifted in his crib, his pitiful whimpers letting his mother know that the father/son bond had been severed. Praying to all the deities she could, she worked frantically as she heard the heavy footsteps ascend the staircase and advance toward her location. As the nursery door swung open, she finished the spell, and a white light glowed briefly as the protections fell into place.
Riddle entered the room, his wand pointed at the fierce redhead. She begged for her son's life, knowing that Riddle's sole purpose there was to murder her baby. He had given her the opportunity to step aside, to save herself, but she refused, her only thought to protect her son. Growing irritated, and knowing that time was not on his side, he killed the annoying woman, and Harry's whimpers grew into pained cries as the stronger mother/child bond was violently broken. Voldemort winced at the pitiful sound, and for a brief moment he felt regret at the course his life had taken.
"I do not wish to kill you, child," he murmured to the squalling babe, "but I have no choice. Fate has forced my hand." Lifting his wand, he incanted the killing curse, watching with regret as the green light of the spell rocketed toward the crying baby. The rebound shocked the man, and he hesitated a fraction too long, allowing the curse to strike him in the chest and drive his soul from his body. The fragment that had been splintered off when the Potters were murdered by Riddle's hand found a new home in Harry Potter. Harry's forehead bled profusely from the lightning-bolt shaped cut that had been carved into his flesh from the curse, the crimson drops pattering as they fell to the quilt covering him, and he cried louder as the pain of the soul piece that had invaded him spiked. He cried most of the morning of November first, never realizing that his godfather, who had abandoned him to chase down the traitorous rat that had revealed the location of the cottage, was now sitting in Azkaban, unable to care for him. Finally, after hours spent crying, the boy calmed enough to fall into a fitful sleep, his belly cramping from emptiness.
Apparitions downstairs startled the raven, and he began wailing again from the pain in his forehead, as well as the broken parent/child bonds. Albus charged up the stairs and into the destroyed nursery, his blue eyes wide and worried as they lit on the defenseless child. He slowly walked to the baby and lifted him from the crib, using the corner of his garishly colored robe sleeve to wipe away the fall of blood from the child's eyes.
"Hush, now, Harry," the old man murmured gently, trying to ease the pain he saw swimming in vibrant green eyes. "We have you now. We won't allow anything to happen to you." Dumbledore looked to Lily's broken body, and tears fell from his eyes as he mourned the passing of two remarkable people. He studiously ignored the dust and burnt clothing that was all that remained of the Dark Lord, his heart lighter as he realized that the monster was gone. His relief was tempered with caution, however, as he knew that the peace would be temporary.
At that moment, Hagrid entered the destroyed house, his eyes streaming with grieving tears. He took one look at the child nestled in Dumbledore's arms, and wailed loudly at the unfairness of it all. "Oh, perfesser, wha'll happen ter the li'l 'un now?" Making shushing motions, as Harry had drifted off to sleep, Dumbledore carefully answered.
"You will take him to this address," he handed the half-giant a slip of parchment. "I will meet you there. These are his only living relatives."
"Bu' tha's a muggle home. I'nt there any wizards tha'll take 'im?"
"I'm not sure a wizarding home would be the best thing for him," Albus answered softly. "If he's raised in the magical world, he'll become arrogant and cocky. He will be exposed to hero-worship and adulation, and that will make him a spoilt, selfish child. I want him to have a normal childhood before he has to return to the wizarding world, and I want him to be humble and self-effacing. He needs to be kind, courteous and selfless, and he won't develop these qualities if he's living with the reverence of the wizarding world."
"Bu' muggles?" Hagrid asked, worried. "Won' they treat 'im bad?"
"I doubt it," the headmaster answered confidently. "It's Harry's aunt, Lily's sister, that he'll be living with. She has a son of her own. Harry will have someone to play with. He should be fine. But, just to make sure, I'll have Arabella Figg living on the same street, so she can keep watch over him." Turning, Dumbledore handed Harry off to the gigantic man, who took him like he was the most fragile crystal. "We must get going. Things are going to be hectic for a while, so we need to get him hidden before the Death Eaters discover their master is gone and try to go after Harry."
The basket sat on the front stoop as November first faded into November second. The temperatures had dipped into the teens overnight, and by the time Petunia had opened the front door and discovered the basket, Harry was dancing dangerously close to hypothermia. Scowling deeply, the woman bent and picked up the basket, banging it into the doorframe as she re-entered her house. Harry's head made contact with the doorframe through the basket, and, despite the buffer, the pain woke him. He squirmed and cried fitfully, his voice sounding raspy. Dropping the basket none too carefully onto the sofa, she turned and stalked out of the living room, screeching for her husband. The extremely large male stomped down the stairs, shaking the house with his weight, before storming into the living room to see what the commotion was about. Vernon's eyes widened in his piggy face as he saw the baby, and he snatched up the note that was pinned to the blanket swaddling the child.
Dearest Petunia,
I leave in your capable and caring hands Harry James Potter. Your sister and her husband died while valiantly protecting their son, and Lily's sacrifice allowed me to erect strong blood wards around your home for Harry's protection. He is very precious and valuable to us, so take the best care of him you can. I am counting on you to give him the love and attention he will need as he grows into the powerful wizard he will be.
Yours,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"No," Vernon said emphatically. "We are not taking in a stray freak. You just contact this Dumbledore person and send that thing back."
"Vernon, I can't. As soon as I brought the freak into the house, he became part of the household. It sealed the contract between me and that headmaster to take care of the brat. I have no choice."
MAY 1989
Harry whimpered as he lay in his cupboard, the bruises and cuts throbbing with his heartbeat. His stomach growled loudly, letting him know that he hadn't eaten for several days. He had forgotten to do some of his chores while Vernon and Petunia were out and Dudley was in school, and he was punished severely for it when everyone returned. The nine year old child, who through lack of care and food looked as if he were five, shifted in his cupboard, trying not to move too much. The Dursleys had refused to see him as anything but a freak, an interloper, and the bonds that would've formed from their love and care withered and died. Without any tangible ties to any kind of love or support, Harry's soul began to shrink.
AUGUST 1, 1991
Hagrid took the child to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, so he could get his school clothing. He'd found Harry too quiet and lackluster. There was no curiosity or wonder sparkling in those dead emerald eyes, and the half-giant was starting to worry. As Harry stepped into the shop, Hagrid went to Eeylops Owl Emporium to get the child a present, hoping that a gift would bring some light to those dim eyes.
Harry stood on the dais, flinching away from the seamstress as she fluttered around him, trying to get his measurements. The dais next to the child was also occupied by a lovely blond boy, who seemed to have confidence in spades. Dimly, the raven wished he'd had as much confidence. He was jarred from his thoughts when the blond turned to him.
"I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm going to Hogwarts. What's your name?"
"H-Harry Potter," the brunet said softly, eyes down.
"Truly?" Draco asked, his voice showing a modicum of excitement.
"Yes."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Harry Potter," Draco answered, his hand out eagerly. Harry tentatively took the other boy's hand, and they shook like men. For a brief moment, Harry felt accepted, but the feeling died when a tall, statuesque woman glided toward the pair of children, her frosty blue eyes on him. Turning, Draco chirped excitedly at his mother. "This is Harry Potter, Mother." She graced her son with a smile so loving that something throbbed within Harry's chest, before turning those frosty eyes back on him.
"How do you do, Mr. Potter. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." She moved forward to shake the child's hand, and blue eyes narrowed at the obvious flinch before Harry got himself under control. Her eyes scanned Harry's face, staring intently into emerald eyes, before a frown marred her smooth forehead. She turned back to her son, a small smile on her face. "Why don't you invite your new friend back to the Manor for a few days, Draco? It would be advantageous for you to get to know him, after all." Her eyes sent a silent message to her son, who received it and nodded imperceptibly.
"Harry, would you like to come to my house for a few days?" he asked the brunet, schooling his expression into smooth indifference to hide his emotions as he watched wonder, then apprehension overtake the other boy's face.
"I'm not sure I'm allowed. My…my aunt would be mad at me should I not go home." He self-consciously pulled at his shirt sleeves, trying to hide the bruises that had encircled his wrists. Narcissa's eyes, however, were quick to spy them, and the frown deepened.
"Nonsense, child," she said soothingly. "I don't believe that you'll suffer any for coming to visit your new friend. We'll just send along a note to your aunt, letting her know your whereabouts." A shy smile grew across the brunet's face, and his eyes lit up with excitement as he slowly nodded. Beaming, Draco grabbed the raven's hand and tugged at him, excited beyond all reason that Harry Potter would be spending some time with him.
The boys traversed Diagon Alley together, Draco's parents a few steps behind them. Getting rid of the half-giant had been ridiculously easy. Lucius had cast a modified memory charm on the large man, and he had wandered away to return to Hogwarts, not remembering that he'd had a child to watch or that he'd had a birthday present for that very child. Harry's eyes had widened on the snowy owl that had been perched on the large man's shoulder, and he flinched as she flew gracefully toward him, landing on the cobblestone pavement before him and looking at him with large round golden eyes. She hooted softly at him, clacking her beak as if to tell him something, and he looked helplessly at Draco's father.
"She is telling you that she belongs to you. You must give her a name, to complete the familiar/wizard bond." The raven looked back at the owl, staring into her golden eyes for a long moment before a name popped into his head.
"Her name is Hedwig," Harry said softly, his face flushing with shy embarrassment.
"A good, strong name," Lucius told the child, smiling kindly at him. "It means battle, or war, and was ascribed to two muggle Polish women, both saints. It is a regal name, and suits her queenly demeanor and carriage. You've made an excellent choice." Harry smiled tentatively, having never heard praise before, and held out his arm. It shook slightly as the owl rose from the pavement, her wings stretching across the sky before she gently landed on his shoulder, nibbling fondly at his ear. He giggled, and something that had been dead within came to a trembling life. The wizard/familiar bond began to bring the boy's soul back to wholeness. Turning with the owl perched comfortably, he tentatively entered into conversation with the blond child beside him while the two adults maintained a comfortable distance between themselves and the boys. This afforded Harry with the illusion of privacy, and also allowed the adults to protect them without seeming like they were hovering. It also gave Lucius and Narcissa a chance to talk about Harry; about his behavior, his lack of personality, and, most troubling to the woman, his bruises.
"Harry, dear, could you come here for a moment?" Narcissa asked softly. Harry had been at their Manor for several hours, and in all that time, the child had barely spoken three words to them. Draco had tried to engage the child in play, but Harry remained a silent observer, afraid of something that none of the Malfoys had discovered. The brunet carefully walked toward the blonde matriarch, his head bowed and looking at the carpet. She sighed softly, reaching out to place an elegant finger under the child's chin and tenderly lifting it until his gaze met hers. She fought not to flinch at the absolute lack of anything in his eyes. "I would like to speak with you about your treatment with your aunt and uncle," she said, frowning slightly when the child flinched away from her before dropping his eyes back to the floor.
"There's nothing to talk about," he replied quietly. Before he could move away, she grasped his hand and slid the sleeve of his overlarge shirt up, revealing the bruises that circled his wrist and climbed up his forearm. Her face morphed into a scowl to hide the shock at seeing so much damage. I didn't expect this, she thought furiously as she stared at the battered arm. Without warning, she grasped the hem of the shirt and pulled it up and over his head, depositing it thoughtlessly on the floor as she stared at the rainbow hues of new and healing bruises that covered nearly every inch of exposed flesh. She gripped his shoulder and turned him, and couldn't hold in the gasp of shock as she saw the welts on his back, as well as bruises that had appeared to be patterned after a belt buckle.
"What have they done to you?" she whispered, her hand going to her mouth to hold in the cry of anguish. Tears fell from icy blue eyes as the boy turned around to look at her, the deadness in his eyes making her cry harder. Lucius strode into the room at that moment, his heart thumping frantically at the feel of his wife's anguish, and stopped dead at the sight of Harry's body. He touched the cravat pin at his throat, and moments later the floo flared, admitting a tall, dark man with long, lank, greasy hair. His pale face stood out starkly against all of the dark clothing, and his ebony eyes sparkled with maliciousness.
"What do you require, Lucius?" the other man snapped harshly. "I was in the middle of preparing the infirmary potions for the coming school year."
"I need you to do a complete scan on that child," Lucius stated with a hard voice. Black eyebrows rose on the other man's forehead as he turned to take in the child he'd not even seen upon his arrival. A scowl of epic proportions overtook the man's face as he saw his schoolyard rival and most hated person standing in the Malfoys' parlor, and his mouth opened to snarl invective, his wand raised menacingly. It took a moment for him to realize that, not only wasn't it James Potter, but the child was covered with bruises and cuts. Slowly, his wand dropped, and he turned to his friend, aghast.
"What the bloody hell is Dumbledore's pet doing here, Lucius? What did you do to him? Do you realize the amount of danger you've put us all in?" Lucius stood, waiting patiently until the Potions Master stopped having his fit before he answered.
"I've done nothing to that child. Draco and Narcissa met him in Madam Malkin's, and he came to us like that. This is how Dumbledore treats his pet." Severus turned back to the child, who was now curled into a fetal ball on the floor, arms over his head as Narcissa tried to comfort and console him. She turned blazing eyes on the dark man, and Lucius snorted softly when he saw the Potions Master back quickly away from that look.
"You will drop that ridiculous, childish grudge at once," she snarled, pulling the trembling child into her lap and wrapping her arms around him. "This child is an innocent. He's had absolutely no time to get to know his father, and to judge him by that man's actions is beyond my comprehension. He needs our help, and by the gods, you will give it." Severus nodded quickly, stepping forward to do as the woman asked. He watched as the small boy flinched away from him, and he slowed his steps, approaching the child as if he were approaching a wounded foal.
"It's all right, Potter," he murmured softly, kneeling down until he was eye level with the boy. "I will not hurt you. I wish to scan you, to ascertain the extent of your injuries. It will not cause you any pain." Gently, Narcissa encouraged the boy to stand in front of Severus, who extended his wand and carefully ran it from the top of the raven's head to the bottoms of his feet. When he completed his scan, he studied the readout that had been spat from his wand, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You've done very well, Harry," the Potions Master said softly to the child, not even realizing that he'd called the boy by his given name. "Please go with Draco." The blond grabbed the brunet's hand and tugged him from the room, keeping up an endless commentary of what they'd do once they'd gotten to school.
"What do the scans reveal?" Lucius asked, his eyes reflecting his worry. Severus grimaced and looked at both Malfoys as Narcissa went to stand next to her husband. She paled as Lucius wrapped his arm around her waist. "Is it really that bad?"
"Yes," he said, knowing that the need for tact had passed. "He's got multiple badly healed fractures and broken bones. There are several torn ligaments, and he may be blind in one eye if the potion I have doesn't heal it. He'd been hit so hard in the face that it detached his retina." The Malfoy matriarch covered her face with her hands, muffling the soft sobs that had escaped her. Severus continued, his eyes stormy. "I have no idea how the child can move and walk without pain. He'll be incredibly fortunate not to suffer any sort of nerve damage from all of the abuse."
"Will your scan results hold up under the scrutiny of the Wizengamot?" Lucius asked suddenly, grey eyes gleaming with ideas. At Severus' nod, he continued. "Excellent. We will take those results to the Wizengamot tomorrow, and have Harry's care transferred to us. We must hold a secret session, so that the headmaster cannot interfere until things have been finalized." He turned to his wife, smiling slightly. "I am sorry, my dear. I didn't even take your thoughts into consideration."
"I want that child here as much as you, Lucius," she answered, smiling softly through her tears. "What they did to him…" She struggled for a moment, trying to explain her fears. "He's empty. He just doesn't seem to have any light in his eyes."
AUGUST 2, 1991
"This secret meeting of the Wizengamot will now come to order," Madam Bones said quietly, tapping her gavel gently. Even though they tried to keep the loud noises to a minimum, the small child still flinched at the sound of the gavel against the desk. Bones' eyes softened, as did several other members, as they looked at the fragile child in Severus' lap.
"Why is Albus Dumbledore not here?" asked Amos Diggory.
"He is the one to send Harry Potter to those who had abused him," Lucius answered, standing before the ruling wizards and witches proudly. He'd softened his stance somewhat, to try and curb the seeming arrogance that everyone perceived of him. He silently handed the copies of the scans to Madam Bones, who looked closely at the words on the parchment. She paled drastically as she continued to read the catalog of injuries to the small boy, before passing the papers on to her contemporaries, her hands shaking with sorrow and rage.
"Why not tell Dumbledore of the child's treatment?" Fudge asked belligerently. "I'm sure he would move the boy to a safer location if he was informed of the abuse." Harry flinched at the man's harsh voice, and several Wizengamot members scowled angrily at the fat man, making him pale and fear for his job as Minister.
"He was informed," Arabella Figg said softly as she stepped from the shadows. "I was put in the neighborhood to keep an eye on him, and I saw everything those animals did to him. I tried to tell Albus about it, but he just dismissed my concerns. He told me that the Dursleys needed to discipline Harry, to prevent him from becoming violent. When I tried to tell him the extent of their 'discipline', he told me not to be so hysterical, that I must be exaggerating the treatment. I finally gave up, knowing that the headmaster wouldn't listen to, or believe, anything I told him."
"Albus Dumbledore believes that muggles are inherently good people; that they would welcome us with open arms," Severus said quietly, looking down at the boy in his lap. "He believes that we can live and work side-by-side with them, without fear. He is intent on condemning us to extermination. He will not believe anything bad that we have to say about the muggles, unless he sees physical proof of it himself. Even then, he will try and find any excuse for their behavior. I fear that he would allow those muggles to kill Harry, rather than believe the worst of them." Fudge opened his mouth, as if to somehow defend Dumbledore's stance, but the glare from Lucius Malfoy silenced him. Malfoy had learned of the agreement the Minister had made with the muggle Prime Minister, and he was fighting to cancel it before the exposure of the magical world to the muggles became worse.
"Very well," Madam Bones interjected, "we will make a decision based on the information the petitioners have submitted." The Wizengamot erected a privacy ward and huddled together, talking heatedly about the case. Fudge could be seen gesticulating wildly, and Severus briefly wished to be a fly on the wall, to hear what had the Minister in such a froth. Madame Bones snapped at the Minister, and whatever she had said was effective, for Fudge quickly snapped his mouth shut; however he couldn't stop or hide the monumental pout that graced his face. A snort of amusement escaped Severus' control, and Lucius looked at his friend, a small smirk on the blond's face. Finally, the ward came down, and Bones faced the court.
"It has been decided that the petition to transfer care of Harry Potter to the Malfoys has been granted. Additionally, the child's properties and inheritances will fall under Lord Malfoy's purview. All ties to the headmaster, both real and imagined, will be severed. So mote it be."
SEPTEMBER 1, 1991
You've been through a great deal of pain, young one. Though the Malfoys have begun to provide you with the stability that you've so desperately needed, they could not provide you with the bonds to help your soul heal completely. Their love and support may help you to become the man you should be, but you will no longer follow the path set forth for you by prophecy and Albus Dumbledore's manipulations. The headmaster's mistake in sending you to those who refused to love you may cost him everything. SLYTHERIN!
Harry slid down off of the stool, placing the hat carefully on the seat, and turned to his Head of House. The snarky man magicked the patch onto his school robes, and the raven walked slowly to the Slytherin table, sitting next to Draco. The headmaster's blue eyes had lost their twinkle, his mind confused at the demeanor of the Chosen One, as well as his unacceptable placement into the snake pit. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he stood to make the beginning of term announcements.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. For many, you are returning to continue your educations. For some, this is the beginning of your life with magic. Cherish every day you're here, and always remember just how special and remarkable you are. The Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students. There are denizens there that would see you as a delicious snack, or as a trespasser who deserves to die for the transgression. The list of banned items is posted outside Argus Filch's office. Please pay attention to it; I do not want to listen to the man carp at me about the students' misbehavior. Magic is prohibited in the halls. Anyone caught casting spells will be punished. There is to be no fighting, and I do not want to see the Houses be antagonistic toward each other. A war is coming, and you all need to stand together against our common enemy." He swept his arms wide, and the tables were suddenly groaning with food. "Let's eat!"
Conversation filled the Hall, and Draco turned toward the quiet boy next to him, watching him carefully as he selected his food and ate it. Years of malnourishment had made Harry's bones very brittle and weak, and his skin extremely sensitive to touch. He was very short for his age, looking more like an eight year old than the eleven year old child that he truly was. His hair was limp and his skin was sallow. His eyes still retained their deadened appearance, and the left one drifted slightly. Snape's potion had failed to heal his eye, and the sight in it was gone. Severus had also provided nutrient potions, bone-strengthening potions, growth potions, and a plethora of other potions to try and mitigate the extensive damage done to him by the neglect, with little success. Though Harry's bones had strengthened to some degree, the length of time the boy went without sustenance had severely affected the growth plates, and his bones would never be as strong as a normal child's.
As for his personality, he had none. The severed bonds of parent/child, godfather/godchild and guardian/child had become scarred and useless. With no one to try and bond with him during his formative years, when a child's personality developed and became distinctive to that child, his personality never developed properly. He was like an automaton; a living, breathing robot. Draco tried during the rest of the summer to engage Harry in anything of interest, be it Quidditch or wizard's chess or exploding snap. Harry was incapable of seeing any enjoyment or pleasure in the simple activities, and Draco soon learned to adapt himself to fit with the raven. The blond's parents also tried to engage Harry in family things, but the boy always stood outside the family group, a separate entity. The elder Malfoys had hope, however, that with time Harry would grow to depend on them, and perhaps even love them.
SEPTEMBER 23, 1991
"Harry, my boy," the headmaster said jovially, the twinkle forced for the first time in his long life. He watched carefully as the child sat in the chair opposite his desk, and he entered the boy's mind, gently probing into the innermost thoughts and memories of the pre-teen sitting across from him. He was met with memories of vicious, cruel beatings and snide, nasty laughter. Of Harry, himself, there was no sign. It was almost as if the child had no soul to speak of. Pulling back, Albus looked closely at their savior, and for the first time in his life, he felt guilt, regret and fear.
"I'm glad you could find time in your busy schedule to see me," he continued, trying to draw the child out and hopefully assuage his own worries.
"Yes, sir," the boy answered quietly, dead eyes staring into Albus'.
"How are your classes going? Are you having any trouble with the other students?"
"Classes are fine, sir. The other students treat me well."
"Is there anything you wish to discuss with me? Anything you'd like to tell me about your treatment with your aunt and uncle?"
"No, sir."
"Harry, is everything all right with your relatives? They're not treating you badly, are they?"
"Everything is fine, sir." Albus sat back, stymied. He knew that the Dursleys had been particularly violent with him; he'd seen it in the child's memories. Until Harry himself said anything about the treatment, however, there was little that Albus could do for the boy. He just couldn't understand why Harry wouldn't confide in him. He was, after all, looking out for the best interests of the child, and he couldn't do that very well if the child wouldn't confide in him. He forgot the concerns that Mrs. Figg had raised about the suitability of the Dursleys as Harry's guardians; the complaints had been made when Harry was still very young, and none had been received since. Albus had chalked up the reports to excessive hysteria on behalf of the squib, and gave the information provided no more consideration. Finally, after the silence had stretched beyond the headmaster's limits, he dismissed the boy, watching with sad eyes as Harry slowly exited the room. He sat back in his chair and thought about Harry for a bit, before summoning Severus to talk about the child.
"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Snape asked as he strode imperiously through the door. Albus hid a small smile at the man's behavior, gesturing to the garish chair in front of him.
"Have a seat, Severus, my boy. I'd like to talk to you about Harry Potter." Scowling to hide his sudden worry, the Potions Master sat in the chair and looked at the old man with a blank face. His occlumency shields were at full strength, and he felt the gentle brush of Albus' mind against them, before the headmaster withdrew, eyebrows raised in suspicion. "What are you trying to hide from me? You've never employed your shields before, my boy."
"Nothing, Headmaster," the snarky man said with a slight sneer. "I just do not take too kindly to anyone mucking about in my head. And, for your information, I have used my shields before, especially when you were trying to probe for sensitive information that was none of your concern. What do you want to know about Potter?"
"Have you noticed anything strange about him?" the old man asked, eyes troubled, setting aside for the moment Snape's secrecy. "Anything off or peculiar?"
"Not that I am aware of," the Potions Master answered slowly, watching the headmaster carefully.
"The child is so…quiet. His eyes don't hold any kind of life light at all. And he's so ridiculously careful when moving about. It's odd to see someone so young being so very careful."
"I can tell you the reason for his caution and care," Severus said, barely holding on to his fury. Albus' brows rose at the obvious anger, surprised that Severus could care about the boy, in light of his parentage. "Someone had hit the child about the face and head so hard that the retina in his left eye had detached. By the time I became aware of it, it was too late to fix it. I did try, though, with no success. He's careful because he's blind on the left side."
"Who would do such a thing?" Dumbledore gasped, before his eyes closed in pain. "Never mind. I believe I know who hurt him. It's all my fault," he murmured, almost to himself. Severus sat back to watch the old man flagellate himself with his own guilt. "I had left him with his mother's sister, with the vain hope that she would take good care of him. I knew Petunia was not the most pleasant of women, but I had hoped that she would have a modicum of compassion for her orphaned nephew. My mistake has cost the child his innocence and joy."
JUNE 25, 1991
The wards at Privet Drive fell with a klaxon of alarms in Dumbledore's office, making the man run in panic from his rooms above. That's impossible, he thought frantically as he watched the various alarms and gadgets fall silent and dark, indicating that Harry Potter no longer existed within the warded home of the Dursleys. The only way the wards would fall is if the child was abducted, had never gone home…or had died. He ran to the floo, calling out the head of the DMLE's name. Amelia Bones stuck her head into the floo, impatience on her face.
"What is it, Dumbledore? I have things that I need to see to."
"Harry Potter is not with the Dursleys," the old man panted out, his panic barely held in check. "The wards around his aunt's house have fallen, and the only way they could fall is if he no longer lives there. We must move at once. We have to find him before anything…"
"Harry Potter is safe and well-cared for," Bones interrupted, smiling slightly at the panicked old man, halting his words mid-stream. "He was placed with a loving wizarding family, where he is happy." Albus stared at the woman, shocked, before he got himself back under control.
"Might I inquire as to whom he has been given over for care?"
"You might; however, you won't be receiving any answers from me. I was sworn to secrecy when we changed his guardianship. Oh, yes, that reminds me. Your involvement with Harry Potter has been completely severed. You are only his headmaster; nothing more. If I receive any information of you attempting to in any way interfere with his life, I will send you to Azkaban without trial. Consider this your only warning."
MAY 29, 1993
Harry sat in the Chamber of Secrets, enjoying the conversation he was having with sixteen year old Tom Riddle. The boy had descended into the Chamber because the headmaster had gently manipulated the child into it. In his first year, a troll had been let into the school by Dumbledore, in an effort to get Harry to care about someone; to see if he had enough compassion and concern to put himself in harm's way for the wizarding world. Since the child hadn't known Weasley or Granger, the two people Albus thought were suitable for the Savior, he'd instead managed to trap Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy in the bathroom with the troll. Harry had worked well with Draco, their magic complimentary, and they had defeated the annoyance. When Dumbledore had debriefed the Savior later, he'd found that the experience hadn't achieved the desired results; Harry's eyes were still deadened. Severus had railed at the man, calling him on his manipulation of the child and the situation. Dumbledore weaseled his way out of it by stating that someone else had admitted the troll, and that he didn't know that young Harry would try and face down the menace.
This year would be different, however. This year, a cursed artifact from Voldemort's youth had somehow, mysteriously, found its way into the school. Dumbledore thought he'd use some student from Gryffindor for the boy to rescue this time, hoping that their wholesomeness would somehow work its way into his being and release the boy's natural, innate goodness. To that end, he'd made sure that the artifact fell into the hands of the youngest Weasley child, whom he'd known had a crush on the Savior. With gentle hints and guidance, he'd managed to push the boy in the direction he'd wanted, though he'd felt guilty that the child's unfortunate skills in parseltongue had to be revealed. Harry dutifully followed the headmaster's guidance, descending into the Chamber and meeting Riddle's shade as it was absorbing the magic from the Weasley girl. She lay in a coma-like state, barely breathing, and Harry sat down and watched as the life was sucked from the redhead to feed Tom Riddle's soul piece. Once he'd achieved a solid form, he turned to the small twelve year old child, hazel eyes curious.
"What is your name, little one?" he asked softly.
"Harry Potter."
"How did you come to be in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter?"
"The headmaster told me I needed to come down here because I had to learn something." Riddle's eyebrows climbed his forehead then dropped as his eyes narrowed.
"How did you find this place, and how did you get in? You must be a parseltongue to open the Chamber." Harry looked at the other boy, and Riddle shivered at the deadness in dim emerald eyes.
"The headmaster showed me the way, and I can speak to snakes, so I was able to open the door."
"You are an heir of Slytherin?" the teen asked incredulously.
"I don't think so," Harry answered slowly. "My parents were killed by a powerful wizard, and he tried to kill me, too. Somehow, his curse backfired and made him disappear, but he left a piece of his soul inside me."
"How do you know all of this, child?" Tom asked quietly.
"The headmaster told me some of it, and Lucius Malfoy told me the rest. He told me that uncle Sev's scans had revealed the piece of soul that lives in me."
"Do you know the name of this powerful wizard?"
"Lord Voldemort."
JUNE 23, 1993
"Father?" Harry said softly, looking into the elder Malfoy's eyes. "I've brought someone who says he knew your father." Harry turned and looked at Tom as he stepped from the shadows. Lucius immediately went to one knee, head bowed reverently to the teen.
"My Lord," he murmured softly, his voice filled with eager happiness. Riddle smirked at the bowed head as pride welled within his heart.
"Rise, Lucius Malfoy," he intoned solemnly, hazel eyes gleaming softly. The Malfoy patriarch stood quickly, his head still bowed slightly as he waited. "How do you know of me?"
"My father, Abraxas Malfoy, had told me of your greatness when you were in school with him. He often told me of your goals and what you were doing to accomplish them. From the time I was a small child, I have wanted to join your cause, to fight at your side. I'd often look at your picture and wish I could meet you. When you started to recruit, before your fall, I was one of the first to join your ranks. I've served you well, my Lord."
"Thank you for that gracious welcome, Lucius Malfoy. You are your father's son. May I see Abraxas? I would love to touch base with him, to see how things are going." Malfoy dropped his eyes to his hands, and he fought not to fidget in front of his Lord.
"Ah, regrettably, my father passed away several years ago. Many of your first initiates are now either in Azkaban, or are making their way up the Ministry ladder. Some have passed on. Your newest recruits are available, and eager to begin your campaign again."
AUGUST 1993
"Your godfather has escaped from Azkaban, Harry," Tom Riddle told the thirteen year old. The Malfoys had helped the Dark Lord reclaim most of his horcruxes, giving him the age and wisdom that had come at those moments they were created. The only one he'd left in place was the soul piece still within Harry. Severus had warned the man that its extraction would kill the child. Cold emerald eyes looked at Riddle, and a shudder of fear rippled down the elder man's spine. He's going to make a fine Heir, but that lifelessness is just unnatural. "He was one of Dumbledore's best, but chased after Peter Pettigrew, my servant, when I'd killed your parents. Pettigrew, in the only smart move he's ever made, framed your godfather for your parents' murders, and the murders of a village of muggles."
"Should I fear him?" the child asked. Harry had been groomed and nurtured the moment he became the Malfoys', and he was turning into a fine young pureblood. That his mother was muggleborn was immaterial; the Malfoys had performed a blood bonding between Harry and their son, making Harry a Malfoy in blood as well as magic. It also ensured that no marriage contracts would be forthcoming for the raven; he was Draco's bonded spouse. The young Malfoy heir was over the moon, glad that Harry was his for eternity.
"No, child. He has, no doubt, escaped to try and find you. To care for you. You are the last living link to the people he'd regarded as family. I believe he wants to try and get into contact with you. Would you like to meet him under controlled conditions?"
"Do godparents create a bond with their godchildren?" Harry asked curiously. He had been told about the severed familial bonds he'd suffered with the deaths of his parents, and the shriveled bond that would've formed, had his mother's sister taken him in with any kind of love. He didn't miss the bonds; the ceremony had sealed those away and formed new bonds with the Malfoys. Their politics, their histories, their family connections, had become the raven's.
"They do, if the godparents actually step in to care for their godchildren. Since Black abandoned you to seek his revenge, that bond had never had a chance to mature and grow."
DECEMBER 22, 1993
"Harry, my boy. Please have a seat." The small child carefully made his way to the gaudy chair in front of the desk, and Dumbledore once again felt that stabbing guilt at the circumstances he'd instigated with his interference. If only I would have listened to Hagrid, or even Minerva. Perhaps things wouldn't have reached such an impasse. Though he was aware of the abuse, Dumbledore didn't want his Savior to return to the Malfoys. He'd had a spy in the Ministry ferret out the new location of Harry, and was furious that Lucius Malfoy would undermine everything he'd planned. To that end, in spite of the abuse the child had suffered under the Dursleys' care, Albus still felt it was the best place for him, away from any Dark influences."I've need to warn you that your godfather, Sirius Black, has escaped prison. He was overheard to have been saying that he must find and kill you. Under those circumstances, we cannot allow you to go back to Malfoy Manor for the holidays."
"Malfoy Manor is my home. It is where I belong, and I will be going there for the holidays." The inflexibility of the raven left the headmaster nonplussed for a moment.
"Please understand, child. Your place is with the Dursleys. The protections on their home will keep you safe from any harm." For the first time, emerald eyes showed a spark of fire as the rage that had been subdued for many years finally broke free. Albus had only a moment to cheer the emotion before every trinket and toy in his office exploded.
"As you well know, Headmaster, I was never safe or protected there. The abuse I suffered has permanently, irrevocably damaged me. That you would try to send me back to those monsters in spite of their treatment of me shows how little regard you truly have for my safety and well-being. I am a blood ward of the Malfoys, and as such am not required to follow your dictates any longer. I am, for all intents and purposes, a Malfoy." The enraged raven stood, leaving a gob-smacked old man staring at him. "Please do not attempt to interfere with my life any longer. I will not be held accountable for the consequences."
DECEMBER 23, 1993
"Dumbledore tried to force me back to the muggles," was the first thing Harry said to Tom as he stepped gracefully from the floo. "I've no idea how he found out where I live, but that leak needs to be stoppered." Tom's hazel eyes darkened in anger for a moment, before a malicious smirk spread across his face.
"I do hope you showed him suitable outrage?" the elder man said. Harry only smiled, a small spark of love gleaming in otherwise dead eyes. His time with the Malfoys, and by extension, the other Dark families, had helped him heal as much as it was possible to. The marriage bond between Draco and he gave life to the child, and the surrogate bonds of parent/child and mentor/child had helped to heal his scarred soul to some extent. Harry fiercely loved his mate, his surrogate parents, and his mentors. Tom Riddle and Severus Snape provided invaluable guidance and protection. The Death Eaters and their families were regarded with respect and consideration by the teen, but were always kept at a suitable distance as befitted the Heir of the Dark Lord.
"Harry, your godfather is here," Lucius said softly. The teen turned toward his father and bowed shallowly in acknowledgment of the news. "I will take you to him." The raven followed the elder Malfoy to a study, where a bedraggled, disheveled man paced in front of a large fireplace. He had midnight hair that fell in disarray to his shoulders, and his soft grey eyes held a glint of madness. Those eyes swiveled to the intruders as the door swung open, and widened as they took in their first sight of Harry.
"Pup," he gave a strangled gasp as he launched himself across the room to engulf the child in a bear hug. A barrier bounced the man away when he was inches from his target, and he scowled viciously as he glared at the Malfoy patriarch. "Give me my godson or, so help me, I'll make you eat your wand, Malfoy."
Sirius sat in stunned, speechless silence as Harry, Lucius, and Severus filled the animagus in on the child's life to that point. Tears had tracked their way down his dirty cheeks and glistened in the three-day stubble on his chin, unheeded. A pensieve sat a few feet away, filled to the brim with memory from the teen. Sirius would give it a glance full of trepidation every now and then as the three continued to explain all that had happened to Harry since that fateful Halloween night nearly thirteen years ago. He didn't want to believe that his godson, his pup, had endured anything close to what the three were telling him, but knew in his heart that it was only the truth.
"I suggest you visit the memories, Black," Severus said softly, for once reining in his hatred for the mutt. "It may be the only way you can truly get a feel for what the child has been through." Nodding absently, Sirius stood and strode to the pensieve, taking a deep breath before plunging his face into the bowl. There was silence for a time as they watched the man's body twitch and flinch, no doubt in reaction to the things he was witnessing. A gentle tap on the door heralded another visitor, and Tom poked his head into the study, eyes falling instantly on the youngest occupant.
"Harry, your mate would like to join you, if he may," Riddle said softly. At Harry's nod, Draco was allowed into the room and made a beeline for his husband. Tom slowly followed, quietly closing the door and taking a seat near the fire, facing the table on which the pensieve rested. He meant to keep an eye on Black, to prevent him from doing anything that would harm his heir. Draco squeezed into the chair Harry was lounging in, curling up against the other teen's chest as Harry wrapped an arm around the blond and tugged him closer. Fingers instantly went to fine platinum locks, sifting through them and eliciting a contented purr from the youngest Malfoy. The conversation was quiet and desultory as the group waited for Black to finish with the memories.
"What should we do with him?" Draco asked softly, nuzzling his nose into Harry's neck and making the teen giggle slightly. Everyone smiled at the laughter; hearing Harry laugh was a very rare thing, indeed, and everyone enjoyed it when someone could get that reaction from him. That Draco was the only one who seemed to manage it was special.
"We have ample room here at the Manor, if you wish him to stay," Lucius said, looking at Harry curiously. "I think he needs a good place to hide and be safe, and it would give the two of you an opportunity to touch base."
"He has ties to Dumbledore," Riddle interjected. "If he stays here, what's to say he won't somehow circumvent the wards and allow the headmaster access to Harry?"
"I wouldn't do that," Black said softly, startling everyone in the room except for Harry. He came back to the group and perched on another chair near Riddle, giving the Dark Lord a suspicious glare. "It's obvious that Albus has a great deal to answer for, especially since Lily and James specifically stated in their wills not to put Harry with Petunia and Vernon Dursley." He looked at Lucius, then at Severus, and asked the question that was uppermost in his mind. "Did Dumbledore even know what was being done to Harry?"
"Yes, Black, he did," Lucius answered softly. "He'd put a squib by the name of Arabella Figg in Harry's neighborhood, to keep an eye on him, and she saw all of the beastly things they did to the child. She'd told the headmaster repeatedly about the abuse, but he refused to believe her." The elder Malfoy looked at Sirius with rage-darkened grey eyes. "He still believes that muggles will welcome us with open arms; that they will treat us with the awe and reverence he believes we deserve. It would mess up all of his carefully made plans if it was discovered that muggles would, in fact, hate and fear us enough to try and destroy us. If the news of Harry's treatment by those animals ever got out, the headmaster would have more to answer for than just defying the Potter wills."
DECEMBER 27, 1993
"How could you do that to him?" the animagus bellowed at the venerable old man. Dumbledore focused intently on his hands, clasped together on the desk in front of him, while Sirius continued to rage at him. "How could you possibly justify putting him with those beastly people? And to completely ignore the spy you had in place when she came to you with what she saw..."
"I had no way to verify that what she'd seen was actually true, Sirius," the man tried to make excuses for himself. His own guilt was stabbing bitterly at him, and Sirius' well-placed hits were driving the guilt deeper into his soul.
"Wait a minute," Black growled, rounding on the man behind the desk. "You never went to check on him yourself? Even after hearing that they might be abusing him, you didn't check?" Dumbledore flushed red with shameful embarrassment.
"I did not. I trusted that my own feelings on the matter were sufficient to judge the situation by. I felt that, with Petunia being Lily's sister, she wouldn't have the personality to abuse her own helpless nephew. I didn't believe that she could be so cruel..."
"You've never met the woman, have you?" Sirius snarled, his grey eyes nearly black with incandescent rage. "I knew her. I knew she absolutely loathed Lily. She was jealous of the power and magic Lily had, and jealous of the extra attention Lils had earned from her parents for being a witch. You condemned a sweet, innocent boy to a life of abuse and neglect. He is now blind in one eye, and his bones and muscles will never be as strong or as fully developed as they should be because of the malnutrition. Snape's potions have gone a long way to helping to heal most of the damage, but Harry's soul is forever scarred." Taking a deep breath, he glared at the headmaster. "I'm done with you, old man. For what you've subjected my godson to, there is no forgiveness. Do not attempt to contact me again, and I would advise that you leave Harry alone. If I get even one whiff of manipulation on your part, there will not be enough of you left to bury." Sirius flooed away, the final threat hanging heavily in the air.
OCTOBER 1995
"Hello, Harry," Albus said softly as the fifteen year old entered his office slowly. The raven nodded acknowledgement of the greeting, carefully making his way to the chair in front of the headmaster's desk. Since the visit by Sirius, and a subsequent conversation with Harry, in which he sternly reprimanded the headmaster for his over-familiarity, Albus was circumspect. He stopped his subtle manipulations of Harry, fearing that Sirius would make good on his threat. Lucius Malfoy contributed to that fear by threatening to expose the abuse Harry had suffered, by virtue of the headmaster's interferences. To save face and keep his reputation intact, Dumbledore bowed to the pressures of the Malfoy family and left Harry alone.
"Why do you wish to talk to me, Headmaster?" the raven asked softly.
"I wish to touch base with you, m-Harry. I would like to ask you what your plans are for your future." The raven looked at the headmaster with cold emerald eyes, and the old man couldn't help but shiver at the lifelessness in them. Good Merlin, he thought nearly hysterically, I believe I may be looking at the next Dark Lord.
"I intend to live with my family and help them further their political aims for the wizarding world," the youth finally answered. "I will definitely align myself with the Dark, as they have been instrumental in helping me understand my place in the world." The headmaster paled drastically at the news, hands shaking.
"My boy," he said, forgetting himself in his fear, "you cannot do that. You must not do that. If you give your power and influence over to the Dark, our world will die." Harry scoffed softly, a sneer curling his lips.
"Where, exactly, did you hear that bunk?" he asked acerbically. "Is that what you've been feeding everyone? That the Dark will destroy our world?" The raven continued before the old man could answer. "I am going to clue you in on a few facts you may be ignorant of. What will destroy the wizarding world is your blind insistence that muggles will not harm us; that they will revere us as the superior beings we are. You have no idea of what muggles are capable. In the short time I lived with the Dursleys, I watched the telly whenever I could, and saw the newscasts full of murder and rape and violence and hatred. I've seen muggles of different cultures and skin colors beaten and spat upon simply because they're different. Muggles hate and fear anything that is different. Entire cultures have been destroyed because of that fear and hatred."
"But Harry," Albus finally said after long minutes of silence, "we have magic. We can change their minds. We can make them accept and revere us. There's no way they can fight against our magic." Full throated laughter erupted from the raven as he looked at the headmaster with something like pity.
"You're delusional," he finally said. "I think that we should bind your magic and send you out amongst the muggles for a time. Let them show you what they're really made of."
"I've had a chat with the headmaster," Harry said as he stepped from the floo. Sirius' eyes narrowed dangerously, and Harry smiled at the animagus. "Nothing like that, Sirius. He simply wanted to see where my ambitions lay. When I told him, he very nearly had a heart attack. He then went on to explain where he thought my place was. He's so desperate to get the muggle world and the wizarding world together. He believes we'll be able to control them somehow. So I have an idea, if you would like to hear it." He looked at Tom, waiting patiently for the man to answer. Riddle could see the beginnings of a malicious, mischievous light in those emerald eyes, and he smirked, nodding for the teen to continue. "What say we bind the headmaster's magic, and set him loose in the muggle world? Let him experience, first-hand, just how compliant and accepting they really are." A bark of laughter to Harry's left had him jumping, startled. Immediately, Sirius was at the boy's right side, apologizing profusely for forgetting his disability.
"That's a brilliant idea, Harry," Tom said thoughtfully. "You and I, as well as your parents, godfather and husband, will meet in the library over your summer holiday and make plans to capture and incapacitate Dumbledore. I'll also teach you how to bind a person's magic, as I'm pretty sure you would like to do the honors. Look upon it as a bit of payback for the way you were disregarded."
"That sounds like an excellent plan," Harry said softly, looking forward to learning new magic. "I do owe him for quite a bit…"
"I say we snatch him during a staff meeting," Draco said, smiling slightly. "Make his humiliation complete as we have the memories in the pensieve exhibited for all to see." He turned to his husband, the smile turning loving. "I'm not sure if you'd be willing to let the professors see them, but I think they would go a long way toward convincing the Light to stand down. Besides, once the memories are viewed, people would be more willing to listen to our side of things."
"I agree, Draco, and I don't mind," the raven answered softly.
"It's agreed, then," Tom said, smirking. "Severus can help us choose the perfect day, and he can also help us devise a foolproof plan for snatching the old man. Once we've got him, we'll take him to one of my hidden manors where we'll perform the necessary spells before dropping him in the middle of muggle London. Of course, we'll make sure he has a suitable number of pounds with which to barter for goods and services, but we'll leave him with his wardrobe and appearance. Let him see, first-hand, how muggles treat those who are vastly different from themselves."
PRESENT DAY
"Albus Dumbledore is no longer the Leader of the Light," Tom continued, looking out over the sea of gleeful faces. "His magic has been bound, and he is, at this moment, attempting to navigate the treacherous waters of muggle London, with no knowledge of the people or the area. When the others had seen the pensieve memories of Harry's treatment, and realized that they were just as culpable, they all lay down their wands to the child, surrendering unconditionally. They are still at Hogwarts, awaiting their disposition.
"Those in the wizarding world who had profited from the headmaster's influence are being contained at the Ministry. We will interview them individually and find out where their loyalties truly lie, and whether they would be worth converting. I am set to take my place as Minister, and I've sent envoys to other wizarding nations to set up communications with them. I believe that we can bring enough force to bear to change things across the wizarding world."
"Harry?"
"Yes, Draco?"
"Why…why haven't you ever kissed me?" The blond blushed as he asked the question. They were curled up together in bed, Harry's hand in Draco's hair and sifting through the silky strands. His hand stilled at the question.
"I…I don't know how," the seventeen year old raven whispered, ashamed. "I'm sorry if you think I don't love you because I've never kissed you. I love you with all that I am; with all that I have. I just don't know anything about the more…intimate side of relationships."
"Would…would you like me to kiss you?" Draco asked tentatively, excitement making color rise in his pale skin. Harry's emerald eyes looked deeply into the blond's silver, seeking reassurances that he would not be made fun of for his inexperience. Finding only love and desire, the raven nodded once. Leaning forward, soft lips met soft lips, and a small whimper of fear escaped the brunet, before Draco's tongue stroked along Harry's full lower lip. The darker teen shivered at the unexpected contact, opening his mouth reflexively to let the blond's tongue slip in. For long moments, they lay there, kissing leisurely until Harry finally relaxed his rigid posture and let Draco have his way. Parting for just a moment, the paler teen flashed a winsome smile at his bemused spouse before diving back in to press in greedily.
For long moments, the only sounds in the room were Draco's passionate moans and Harry's mewling whimpers as pale hands began to divest the raven of his shirt. Shivering violently, Harry squirmed as slender fingers danced over his nipples, pinching and tweaking and causing slightly darker flesh to goose pimple. Harry shakily raised his hands and began to unbutton Draco's shirt, his own fingers diving in and exploring a pale, toned chest. A hoarse groan met the feel of Harry's questing fingers, and feeling emboldened, he let his own tongue dive into Draco's mouth, tasting the blond's unique, spicy flavor. Panting harshly, but keeping his mouth open and inviting, Draco's fingers danced over the placket of Harry's jeans, making the raven arch up reflexively into the contact.
Before they could carry their explorations further, the pop of a house elf had them jumping violently, blushing furiously at being caught. Turning, Draco's silver eyes pierced angrily into the quivering elf. "What?" he snarled harshly, making the little creature shiver in terror. Harry's hand came up to soothe the blond's anger, stroking gently over the knobs of his spine and making him tremble. Taking a deep breath, he smiled an apology to the elf, trying to temper his ire. "What is it, Dobby?"
"Lord Riddle is asking for your presences in the salon," the elf answered before popping quickly away. Draco dropped his head to Harry's shoulder, huffing out an irritated sigh.
"Come on, love," the brunet whispered in the blond's ear. "We need to see what Tom wants."
The scowl that covered Draco's face was monumental, and Tom looked at the teen, a small smirk on his face. The smirk disappeared when the blond showed his wrath to the Dark Lord. An eyebrow rose on Riddle's face, and a little bit of temper flared in hazel eyes at the impertinence. "You have an issue, Draco?" he asked, the anger barely held in check.
"Yes, I do," the blond replied with a snarl. "You interrupted a special moment. I hope the interruption was worth it." Before Tom could open his mouth and tear the blond apart, Harry interceded.
"He was helping me understand close, intimate relationships, Tom. This is the first time we've taken the time and opportunity to be closer. Please don't be angry at him for speaking up. He's my husband, and we've not consummated the relationship yet."
"I do apologize, Draco. I meant no disrespect to your relationship," Tom said, calming down. "What I have to speak to you about is of great importance, though. Albus Dumbledore was murdered in his sleep last night. It seems that he'd tried to pick up a muggle man for sex, but the man and his friends weren't interested. They'd called him all the negative names muggles have for homosexuals, and the man whom Dumbledore propositioned followed him back to the one room walkup he lived in. He broke in and slit Albus' throat while he slept."
"Well, now that the Light's figurehead is well and truly gone, we can mop up the stragglers in earnest," the blond said, his irritation forgotten at the good news. Harry hummed in agreement, leaning into his husband. Draco's eyes widened in surprise at the movement; he was usually the one to initiate any contact with Harry. It was a very lovely surprise that Harry had initiated affection this time. The blond wrapped his arm around his husband, pulling him closer. Seeing the obvious desire in sparkling emerald eyes, Tom dismissed the pair, happy that Harry's eyes were now showing more life and happiness. Quickly, the teens left, swiftly returning to the bedroom and their previous activities.
"Are you happy, Harry?" Draco asked softly. They were curled up on the king sized bed in the master bedroom of Riddle Manor. Tom had enlisted the house elves to clean and prepare the Manor for occupancy, gifting it to the boys as a belated wedding present. They had moved in shortly after graduation, setting up house fairly quickly. Draco had attended to his duties in the Ministry as liaison to the many Ministers around the world, 'helping' them to realize that their best bets were to ally themselves with the Dark Lord. It wasn't a hard sell for the Darker nations; however, those Neutral and Light nations put up quite a fuss, until Draco flexed his metaphorical muscle, letting them see the strength of his power as the voice of Lord Voldemort. They quickly came to heel, and the next phase was the systematic extermination of every muggle on the planet, leaving vast acres of land for the wizarding nations to possess. In quick order, Riddle had accomplished that of which he'd dreamed for a very long time: complete domination of the world.
"I am," the raven replied softly. "I never thought, when I was taken in by your family, that I could ever be happy. I didn't think I had it in me. You proved me wrong, Draco. You've given me back the capacity for love, and the capability to be happy. I'm glad you and your family decided to let me into your lives."