Title: The Bleeding Eden
Author: toujouruspur
Rating: M (eventually)
Pairings: Draco/Harry, Ron/Hermione (others to come, but it would reveal some plot)
Disclaimer: The usual: I'm not creatively responsible for anything in this story besides the plot and the people I make up. I don't think I'll be quoting from others, but if I do I'll mention it.
Warnings: Slash (Male/Male) and a partial disregard of HBP.
Rehash: Draco arrived at Grimmauld Place in the arms of Severus Snape, badly beaten; the Weasley's Burrow was burned to the ground by Death Eaters.
Chapter Two: The Busy and Most Crowded House of Black
"I suppose I don't need to remind you that this is entirely your fault. Or do I? Your memory has seemingly become a bit lax, as of late."
"Do not speak to me in that way, woman, I'm still your husband."
Narcissa Malfoy shivered; it frightened her that she could not hear her husband speak without having this reaction. In an attempt to hide it, she strode elegantly towards the window, the ends of her emerald dress robes caressing the floor. As she looked out upon the fields three stories below her, knowing that it all belonged to her, she felt a deep sadness. It seemed a waste to her to have so much land and nothing on it. It was as if the land simply served as a barrier between her family and the rest of the word; between her and the rest of the world. The effect only made the home feel more like a prison.
"This is not my fault, Narcissa; it was his decision to join the dark lord."
"And what does he know of such things?" she snapped, turning to face him once more. The light pouring through behind her seemed to make her glow while at the same time casting her finer features into shadow. "He knows of the consequences? He knows of the reality and gravity of such a decision?"
"He has seen me in service."
"Yes, he has seen you in service. You! Not an average servant of this 'lord'. I know it, so you must know it as well; that man doesn't treat his followers equally. You are clearly one of his most favored; but what reason would he have to favor Draco?"
"He is my son; he is of my family."
"What does Voldemort think of family?" She was shouting now. "He killed his! What makes you think he wouldn't kill ours?"
"I am valuable, therefore my assets are his assets."
"Assets? Is that how you see us?" She was but a foot from him now. "Property to be bargained with as collateral for your life? Insurance that you will remain his closest servant?"
"I see you as something I value."
"Bullshit!" It was unlike her to resort to this kind of language; even Lucius was taken aback. "You're nothing but another slave to that man! You're his servant! You do what he tells you and get nothing in return. I never would have thought, when I married you, that a man so focused on his share of things would become some man's whore!"
It happened in an instant; a slap, a ringing, a searing pain, a red impression, and Narcissa's head looking to the side. She turned it to look at him once more and was not surprised to see the lack of remorse in her husband's cruel grey eyes; and he was not surprised to see the lack of fear in her icy blue ones. The hit had knocked a few portions of her hair out of its elegant knot and they now swung back and forth over her face, like a pendulum counting down the silent seconds.
She said nothing, and turned to leave the room. Things went back to the way they should be; Lucius doing as he pleased, endangering their "family", and Narcissa standing obediently at his side. Like a servant. Like a slave.
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"So he brought him here?" The red-haired boy, towering above Harry and Hermione who were seated on the bed, looked incredulous. His arms flew out to either side, questioning, "why?"
"That's what I asked!" Harry said, "But Lupin didn't really tell us anything. He just said that it wasn't right to go back to Hogwarts before speaking with Dumbledore."
"Then why didn't he take him to his house?"
Hermione cut in before Harry could explain again about Snape's house getting destroyed. "Oh, honestly, you two! Listening to you, one might think this was the first time we've had this conversation. It's been fifteen minutes and all you're doing is saying the same things over and over!"
"Well what do you suppose we should talk about?"
"How about something important? We didn't get as much research done today as we usually do,"
"—thank god—"
"—so maybe we should talk a little about what we know and try and draw conclusions?"
The door opened and Ginny came in, looking crestfallen.
"Ginny, what's wrong?" Harry was worried that she might have found out about the house. Mrs. Weasley had said that she was planning on waiting until Arthur and Ron got home and the twins came for dinner, but perhaps the news had slipped out early.
"Dean dumped me!" she said, falling at Harry's side. Instinctively, he put an arm around her. She wasn't crying, but it was obvious she was close.
"Sorry Ginny…" Hermione said, looking sympathetic.
"You've got Ron, why are you sorry?"
Her bluntness made Hermione blush and Ron look away. "I've got Ron now, but how many years was it before I did? I know what you're going through, Ginny."
"I know, I'm sorry…I guess it's a good thing. I mean, we really didn't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things…and he was kind of immature."
"You know who's not immature?" Ron asked, "Harry."
Harry withdrew his arm, feeling awkward, and Ginny's sadness evaporated into fury. "Ronald! How many times am I going to have to tell you? Harry and I are not going out any more!"
"I'm just saying that—"
"We broke up for a reason, Ron!"
"I know, but it was a stupid one!" he said, pleadingly. "I mean, come on! You're in a house that's unfindable! Who cares if you know who wants to kill her? He can't, can he?"
"Ron…I…" Hermione, evidently at a loss for words, quieted.
"There are other reasons, Ron, and just because we don't share them with you doesn't mean they aren't there!" Ginny said, angrily.
"Other reasons…?" Harry asked, blushing slightly. "Like what?"
"Are you sure you want to have this conversation now…" Ginny asked, with a nervous glance towards Ron and Hermione.
"They'll get it out of me later, you might as well."
"Well…you know, we just didn't get a lot of time together did we? You were always in meetings with Dumbledore, or studying, or managing a Quiditch team or spending time in the hospital wing…we just didn't get much time to ourselves."
"Well that's no reason to break up!" Hermione said, having apparently found her voice once more. "Ron and I are both extremely busy but we're still together."
"Well…like I said, it was reasons, not reason. There was the time thing plus there was the…intimacy thing."
"What 'intimacy thing'," asked Harry, not sure if he wanted to know.
"Well…you never really did much. I mean, whenever we would do anything it was always me who started it…I felt like I was begging."
"Well maybe Harry was trying to be kinky?"
"Ron, stop trying to defend me, you're making it worse."
"I don't mean it like that! I just mean…it's like you weren't really into it. I mean…we could be doing something and it's like you would just stop reacting. You'd go somewhere else and there was nothing I could do to bring you back."
"You got up and left when you two were being intimate?" Ron asked, aghast.
"Not literally, Ronald. He just…faded off mentally. Like he was preoccupied. So I guess it was like even when I did have time with you…I wasn't really with you."
"I understand," Harry said, and he meant it. However it was obvious to the other three that he was nonetheless embarrassed and almost hurt by the news. Evidentially because he thought he had ended it on his terms, but really he hadn't.
Seeing his struggle, Hermione offered, "Let's go down to dinner, shall we?"
"Good!" said Ron, mind easily changing topics from depressing breakup to food. "I'm starved!"
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Ginny stood from the table and silently left the room. Mrs. Weasley called after her, but for the first time in Harry's recollection, the youngest Weasley did not listen to her mother. Mrs. Weasley sighed, letting her go, and put a hand to rub a weary temple.
"Was anyone there when…it happened?" Ron asked, as Hermione clenched his hand in hers.
"No, thankfully. But still…so many of our things were destroyed, Ron."
"Yeah, I know…"
"But you'll be able to get a new house," Harry said, the same thing he'd been saying since this dismal conversation began. The twins hadn't been able to come to dinner that night, and he made a mental note to avoid it when they did.
"Harry, dear, I've told you! We don't have the money."
"I'm sure Fred and George will help, they're making loads off of their business now, aren't they?" He would have liked to have said "I'll pay for it, Mrs. Weasley" but he refrained. With the money his parents had left him sitting in Gringotts banks and accumulating interest for seventeen years, he could easily have afforded it; however he knew by now that the Weasleys were a proud family who would not accept charity from others.
"No, that's their money that they earned." Or apparently from each other.
"They won't take that," Ron said, "you know they're going to force it on us. If you won't take the money, they'll probably just go by a house without you and force you into it."
A bell sounded from the front lawn; not the siren that had sounded earlier that morning, not a warning, but a bell alerting the residents of Grimmauld Place that aurors were arriving for a meeting. "Well, you'd better go dears," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her eyes and standing. "The meeting needs to begin shortly, we're in a bit of a time crunch."
They stood and left without further prodding.
"I can't believe they burned down my house…"
"I know, Ron, I'm so sorry." Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione to let her know that her sympathy was appreciated.
"I'm not really surprised," Harry said, walking beside them because the enormous stairway permitted it. "I mean…there hasn't been a muggle attack in ages, they were bound to attack someone sooner or later."
"I think I'm done talking about this for a while," Ron said. It was an odd thing to hear his voice so downtrodden, as the freckled Weasley was usually a source of endless silver linings.
"Good idea. Ron, since you're home early, you can help Harry and me research. I've got an idea that might prove promising. It seems that when the founders started the school, Salazar Slytherin…" Harry and Ron weren't listening.
They spent hours in the Black family archives looking over books they hadn't yet covered. The library was immense, but the topics were limited; pureblood family lineage and traditions and dark arts. Here and there one of them would find a tome about spell damage reversal or ancient magical creatures but for the most part, the research was monotonous.
Later that evening, when Harry had piled books so high on every side of him that he now needed to spell the books off of their shelves, he heard someone calling him. With a flick of his wand, the books moved aside, and he was thankful for the thousandth time that summer that the Ministry couldn't detect underage magic in a Fidelus charmed house. Then he remembered; he was seventeen, it didn't matter. Old habits died hard, he supposed. It would be a while before he stopped worrying over such things.
"Yes? Who is it?" Remus' head popped up in the opening of Harry's book fortress. "Oh, hey," he said, as Remus stepped into the circle to sit next to Harry.
"Harry," he said brightly, "working hard I see."
"Yeah, Ron and Hermione are around here somewhere too."
"I'm glad to see they're helping you, but also glad to see that you're alone, I need to talk with you privately." He pulled out his wand and muttered "Muffilato", a spell Harry recognized that made others that might be around them unable to hear their conversation.
"You really do want to ensure privacy."
"Well, I feel this is a matter that you would handle better than Ron. Hermione could do well by it too, perhaps, but I didn't feel it was fair of me to ask her to conceal things from her boyfriend." Harry nodded. "It's about Mr. Malfoy."
"Good news, I hope? Like Madame Pompfrey fixed him up and he's ready to get the hell out of my house?"
"Well, Madame Pompfrey did fix him up, however in the process we've strung together a story that's well…disturbing to say the least." Harry said nothing, so Lupin continued. "A good mediwitch, like Poppy, is able to see magical signatures when a harmful spell is cast. It's almost as if the caster leaves behind some magical residue when they cast a spell, and Poppy was able to recognize some of the ones left on Mr. Malfoy."
"Who were they?"
"She recognized Crabbe, Goyle—"
"But they love Malfoy!"
"Not them, their fathers. Also McNair, Lestrange, and even some of Voldemort himself."
Harry's mouth dropped. "The death eaters? The death eaters attacked him?"
"Looks like it. With what Poppy has told us and the information Severus has given us, it seems that Voldemort wasn't pleased about Mr. Malfoy failing his mission at the end of last year."
"He let a squad of death eaters into Hogwarts, one of the most protected buildings in the wizarding world, and Voldemort sees that as a failure?"
"Yes, because letting the death eaters in wasn't Mr. Malfoy's mission. He was supposed to kill Dumbledore."
"So they tortured him."
"Yes, we think so. And not just any of the death eaters, some of them were his own family. His aunt Bellatrix, for example, and even his own father."
As much as Malfoy had teased and joked on Harry and his friends, he could not help but feel sorry for the boy now lying somewhere, presumably, in his house. He had spent his entire life without a father, but how would it be to have a father and have him torture you? His brush of compassion for the pale-haired git made him blush, and he quickly sought to reverse the conversation. "So what does this have to do with me?"
"You?"
"Well, I assume you've come to me for a reason?"
"Yes, well I'd like to ask if Mr. Malfoy can stay here for the remainder of summer." Before Harry could interrupt with protests, he continued. "It's only a couple of weeks, after all, and this is a place we know to be safe. It seems he too is wanted by the dark lord, and he can't very well go home."
Harry was shocked to see that he was actually entertaining the idea. He supposed it would be fun having Malfoy owe him for the hospitality…and seeing him choke down Mrs. Weasley's food (which was without a doubt not of the caliber of dining the Malfoy prat was accustomed to). With a vindictive smile, he nodded his head in agreement.
"Good, then there's one other thing I must ask of you."
"What's that?"
"I need you to room with him."
"Remus, I'm letting him stay in the same bloody house as me, my house. I have to admit that when I agreed to this, I had imagined him staying on the fourth floor so he'd be as far away as possible."
"I understand, Harry, but no one else would be suited for the position. It's obvious we can't leave him alone; although I do believe he wishes to join our side, having no choice in the matter at this point, I also believe it would be foolish to let him reside here unattended. We can't have an auror positioned on him because they are needed elsewhere and would rarely be here to watch him. Neither Ron nor Hermione can watch him because I doubt they will carry the sympathy you now carry for the boy."
"Sympathy?" Harry scoffed.
"Yes, Harry, sympathy. I know you and he have a deeply rooted rivalry, but I also know you're a good person. A good person cannot look at someone tortured by the most evil wizard of our time and his family, and then simply turn their back. I believe by telling you this, I have ensured that you will be understanding of the boy's position."
"What makes you think I'll be nice to him?"
"I didn't say be nice, Harry. I said be neutral; this is something I do not feel either Ron or Hermione could do. It will require a lot of self restraint on your part, but I am confident that you'll do ok."
Harry attempted an awkward smile, and Lupin returned it.
"Harry? Harry are you around here? Where are you?"
"Yeah, Hermione, I'm right over here!" he called.
"She can't hear you, remember." Lupin said, releasing the Muffilato spell with a flick of his wand before pocketing it.
"Yeah, Hermione, I'm right over here!" he repeated.
"Oh, there you are, and hello Remus."
"I was just going. Thanks for hearing me out, Harry." He nodded to the bushy-haired girl. "Hermione."
"What was that about?" she asked, when she was confident he was out of ear shot."
"I'll explain later. What is it that you wanted?"
"Oh, I was just coming to tell you that Mrs. Weasley called us for dinner."
"Didn't we already eat?"
"Yes, but Fred and George came for the Order meeting so they're here now; I suppose she wants us to help ease the blow. You know…about the house?"
"Right, ok then." It looked like Harry would be attending after all.
"I suppose you can tell us on the way down."
"Us?"
"Ron and I."
"Oh, right," he said, standing and wincing as a cramp ran up his leg. Hermione tapped it with her wand at the pain alleviated, making the walk down stairs to the kitchen much more bearable.
