3. INFIRMARY
Snape was the first at his side, disregarding Sirius, who whined and pushed him with his wet nose, but got no reaction. The Potion's Master was soon followed by Remus, who, while Snape was still checking his pulse, cradled the limp body into his arms and with a short "Infirmary" jogged out of the office with Sirius by his side. Snape and Dumbledore were the next to follow and Voldemort and his Death Eaters rushed out after them, even though in a more dignified way. This resulted in them all reaching the Hospital wing at the same time and in an extremely surprised and shocked Madam Pomfrey.
"What have we here? Now calm down, Sirius, you bouncing up and down won't help...", she started before she recognised the limp figure in Remus' arms, "Oh, Merlin! Bring him in here, be careful."
After she too had checked Harry's pulse, which gratefully was still there, and his eye reflexes she asked rather harshly: "Did he take any potion?"
"Do you think he poisoned himself?", Snape questioned in a voice filled with contempt and something like disappointment.
"Don't be ridiculous, of course not!", Madam Pomfrey looked really irritated by now, "Could someone tell me now, if he took any potion?"
"No", he didn't", replied the werewolf after he had exchanged a look with the dog to his feet, "Will he be alright?"
"I assure you he has survived worse and now out, all of you!", she ordered sternly, before rushing to her potions cabinet, from which she reappeared with two vials, one with a red, bubbling liquid and the other one a light blue, which Snape recognised as a strong Pain-relieving Potion that he used to take after a long night of Cruciatus curses.
It was quite a funny sight to see the five so totally different men all huddled together in front of closed doors with a sad and worried looking bear-like black dog to their feet, all wearing matching expressions of confusion or in the case of the ex-Slytherins a mask of indifference, all seemingly worried about one boy, they didn't really know, which was proved by the non-existence of any idea of what was going on. Snape wondered vaguely why the Dark Lord was still here, but at the moment he had other things on his mind. Such as, why did Potter collapse in the middle of a conversation? Well, he knew the answer to this one, he was obviously in pain- really bad pain, but that didn't explain, why there had been no warning at all. There had been no warning, right? This uncertainty was sickening. And Lupin's pacing was even more! And Dumbledore sucking on his bloody lemon drops! It was not like they were any good. They didn't even taste like lemon in the first place and they certainly didn't consist of lemon. Oh Merlin, he was thinking about lemon drops. He really had to busy himself with something. Pacing suddenly didn't sound so bad anymore...
Meanwhile Tom Marvolo Riddle had other things on his mind. He hadn't been the best student for nothing, he had recognised the blue liquid as well and although he knew that his presence caused the young hero pain, he hadn't thought it would be so... overwhelming. Something had to be done. Hadn't that old fool mentioned some potion? He had been to occupied with staring at his fiancé because he had forward insulted him (and because he was breathtakingly beautiful, but that was another subject all together). Wasn't he supposed to be nice to him? He had offered peace, for Salazar's sake, he should be grateful about that! Well, obviously he wasn't! Maybe he had just pulled some girlish stunt in fainting, to get their attention and their pity. Yes, that would be it.
Remus on the other hand was sure that Harry was seriously hurt or ill, for that matter. And he desperately tried to figure out what was wrong, while walking up and down in front of Severus' overly large nose. The ex-professor knew he had all the pieces: Harry being thinner, the flinch when he wanted to get his attention and had touched his back, the faint smell on him that reminded him of the full moon, the hurt and almost frightened look in his eyes, those strange Muggles,... He could have banged his head against the wall, but thankfully he was too reasonable to do exactly that. Just when he started a new lap of pacing, his eyes caught Sirius' ears, turned into the direction of the infirmary doors.
"Sirius Orion Black!", he growled and the werewolf in him was truly obvious, "What do you think you are doing?"- by now everyone had stopped whatever they had been doing and watched the two Marauders interact, to put it mildly, for it was more Remus acting and the Animagus looking guilty and backing away- "You can't seriously be eavesdropping on your own godson! If he wanted you to know what happened or what is wrong he surely would've told you, don't you think so! And don't give me that look, Black, playing lost-little-puppy won't work with me..."
Remus' ranting was interrupted by an agitated Madam Pomfrey, who opened the doors with such force that she would have got another patient, if Dumbledore hadn't jumped back in time: "What is all this shouting about?"
"Would you only let them in?", Harry's quiet voice asked and saved the ex-professor an explanation.
"We already had this argument, Mr. Potter. You are not to have any visitors, till you have fully recovered", the nurse snapped over her shoulder.
"So you expect me to stay in bed all week? And I won the argument last time, so, please, let them in", they heard Harry's voice once again and after a few moments of silence there was another "Please?"
"Fine, five minutes and not longer", the nurse said reluctantly, stepping back to let them pass, "And you will stay in bed and after they left you will take your potion without protest! Understood?"
Harry scowled but nodded: "Understood!"
Sirius was the first on his bed, well, to be more precise he was the only one on the bed, for even the Headmaster had enough dignity or honour or sense or whatever kept him from doing it, to jump on the bed. Remus was the next and claimed the chair, still murdering Sirius with his amber eyes.
"It's alright, Remus, he didn't hear anything, but thank you", stated the pale-looking boy with a grateful smile.
"How do you know?", Lucius Malfoy asked with a slight sneer on his face, although Harry was sure it was only to cover up his curios expression.
He smiled a little: "Because if he knew, he wouldn't be here sitting calmly on my bed"- Sirius looked up sharply, which looked rather odd, because he had snuggled his head under his godson's arm- "And now, if you don't mind I would like to finish this as soon as possible. Is there anything you wanted to make clear before we can sign, Voldemort?", his voice sounded different now or to be more precise it didn't sound at all, it was vacant of any emotion.
"I assume everything is okay with the contract, but we still need to agree on a date...", answered the Dark Lord.
"The second next Sunday, if it's alright with you", he suggested evenly thinking that this would give him one and a half weeks to inform his friends of the new development.
Voldemort nodded: "Am I right to assume that the marriage will take place here in Hogwarts?"
"That sounds perfect", the Headmaster replied with a huge smile plastered on his face, "I think we should be able to do all the preparations in time. So you won't have to worry about that... I shall create a portkey for your return to your aunt and uncle."
Harry paled even further and his hands clenched: "I won't go back there!"
"Now, and where else would you go?", Dumbledore questioned with a merry twinkle.
He was at a loss of words and just gaped at the Headmaster, too horrified to answer, but he got help from an unexpected direction: "Actually, my son asked me to invite Mr. Potter over to the manor to stay for the rest of the vacation", the elder Malfoy interjected smoothly, seeing the helplessness in the green eyes.
"You didn't tell us", stated the werewolf surprised, "Why not?"
"I didn't think you would approve of a friendship with Draco, seeing as you always were against Slytherins in general", Harry lied, sending Malfoy a thankful look, "And yes, I accept your invitation!"
"Sorry to destroy your plans, but I think Madam Pomfrey would like to keep you here, considering that you just passed out", Dumbledore interrupted not at all happy with the unexpected turn.
"Oh, you won't destroy them, Headmaster", retorted Harry, doing his best to stay calm and composed, "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey is used to me not staying as long as she requests by now."
"Right you are", the nurse declared with a grave voice but smiling eyes, "You are free to go, but don't overexert yourself or I'll lock you in the infirmary the next time you show up."
"Perfect", said Harry, getting out of bed and smiling back at the witch, swaying only a little bit, "I promise the next time you see me I will be conscious!"
"Shall we?", Lucius Malfoy asked silkily, offering his arm, "We should be able to fetch your things on the way."
Harry nodded glumly and after two quick hugs with both his godfather and Remus, a wave to Madam Pomfrey, a glare to Dumbledore and a glance to Snape he left with the Death Eater.
"Thanks, Mr. Malfoy", he said, after they had passed the front gates and continued their way to Hogwarts, "That was very nice of you, at least I think so..."
"Your welcome and I thought it nice, too", he smirked, but one could have mistaken it for a smile.
After a while the boy-who-lived asked insecurely: "I hate to ask this, but could you lent me some money so that I can get to Diagon Alley?"
"And what would you want in Diagon Alley? Don't tell me you actually decided to buy some decent clothes!", Malfoy teased lightly, though he really was confused why he needed to be there.
This statement however confused Harry: "Well, I planned to stay in the Leaky Cauldron for the time being, but I don't have money, so..."
"So you don't want to stay at the manor?", questioned the Death Eater a tad bit disappointed; he had looked forward to having someone there for a few days.
"Your invitation was serious?", asked Harry back.
"Of course it was!"
"Then I accept seriously!", he answered smiling as they reached a huge black limousine and got in with the assistance of one bouncing house-elf.
The inside was even bigger than the outside suggested and was fully equipped with a fireplace, a large bookshelf, a chessboard, three armchairs, a black leather sofa, a liquor cabinet and a door that supposedly led to a bathroom.
"Take a seat", offered Malfoy, "Would you like something to drink?"
"No thank you, Mr. Malfoy", he returned, sitting down in the chair nearest to the fire, "But could I have a blanket or something?"
"Sure", Malfoy snapped his fingers and a different house-elf appeared with a thick woollen blanket, "I didn't realise it was cold."
"I guess it isn't", Harry answered, not feeling up to telling him that it felt cold due to him being ill, "Mr. Malfoy, Draco wasn't really the one who wanted to invite me, was he?"
"No, he currently is in Spain with his mother and some of his friends", he replied, seemingly amused by the relieved expression on the boy's face, but decided not to comment on it as he took a seat on the sofa, "So may I ask why you don't have any money?"
Harry didn't like the turn their conversation had taken: "Well, you see...", he started and then decided to get it out as soon and fast as possible, "The Dursleys saw it fit to not give me any Muggle money, for in their opinion they did more than could be expected from them by providing me a roof over my head. They always take away my stuff as soon as I set a foot in their house so that I won't be able to do anything freakish, so I don't have a knut either..."
The elder Malfoy looked surprised, even shocked to those who were able to see past his mask: "So that is the reason you didn't want to go back there, I understand..."
"No, you don't", Harry answered fiercely, "You honestly think that I'm spoiled enough to refuse to go back there only because they don't give me enough sweets? Greetings to Snape, you can join his club!"
And with that he turned away, tightened his grip on the blanket and closed his eyes, indicating that this was the end of their conversation. Lucius let him be, he had some thinking to do anyway and one angry Harry Potter wasn't something he wanted to deal with at the moment. In all honesty he didn't want to deal with an angry Potter at all, he liked his body just as it was, thank you very much. So as mentioned before he started thinking- not that he wasn't thinking constantly, but this time he did it on purpose (okay, now it sounds like a crime). Harry Potter was in his car, on the way to his manor and he hadn't planned on it. That last point could constitute as a problem. Malfoys didn't do things on instinct, they just didn't. It wasn't all bad, he reasoned with himself, his manor was big enough to fit two Hogwarts in it, if he didn't want to be around him, he wouldn't need to. The Dark Lord hadn't said anything against his invitation- that's probably because he was surprised and just because he hasn't yet doesn't say that it will stay that way, argued the little annoying voice in his head, while they passed through London and the house-elf poured him an other drink. He could keep an eye on him, after all he would soon be married to his Lord and if his staring today held any hint, he was already very taken with his fiancé. Sure, he had given reasons for this contract, a valuable power resource, a big advantage, more freedom to plan their actions, as they wouldn't have to be afraid of being arrested on sight, but well, a Malfoy wasn't convinced easily and he knew that the Lord was far from selfish. Who wouldn't want a husband like the boy-who-lived? Beautiful, smart, brave, cunning, powerful, interesting, famous, loyal, caring. But there was more than meets the eye, the Death Eater continued his inner dialogue and he would make sure to discover it, sometime. Soon.
He didn't know how soon exactly it would be and he wasn't really prepared to find out the truth only an hour later, when they stopped in front of Privet Drive number 4, Little Whining.
He woke Harry with calling his name and declaring that they were at his home and he should go pack his things. The Death Eater didn't think about offering help for he knew that the little house-elf - was her name Wobbly?- would do so. He leaned back on the sofa and began contemplating if a gargoyle near his bedroom would destroy the modern style (see, told you, he thinks all the time).
Harry descended the limousine, noting his uncle's car in the drive way and the changing light from the living room window, indicating that all three Dursleys sat contentedly on the sofa in front of the TV most likely watching an action film with either a lot of shooting and fighting or a lot of naked women, or if today was their lucky day, both.
But one thing was for sure: Today was not his lucky day. He had to take several deep breathes, before he was able to open the baby-blue painted garden fence (one of his welcome-home-chores) without trembling and masked the feeling of impending doom and fright with calmness, though it was only on the outside. As Harry knocked tentatively on the door, he wished he had asked Lucius Malfoy to accompany him- stupid Gryffindor pride of his!
The door was opened with force and a big, purple face appeared: "What do you wa...", Harry felt a small wave of happiness that his uncle was rude to everyone, before Vernon Dursley realised it was his nephew on his doorstep, "Oh, you're back, boy, I'm sure you missed us...", he said in a false sweet voice, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him inside, before slamming the door shut behind them.
"I'm just here to pack my things, I'll...", Harry tried to inform him, but was interrupted by his uncle's fist and he fell to the floor.
How could I've been so stupid to believe that wouldn't happen, he thought bitterly as hit after hit and kick after kick rained down on his body.
Meanwhile Lucius Malfoy sat in his favourite armchair, nipping on a glass of scotch, and made a mental to-do-list, which mostly had points like: order the house-elves to tidy up the east wing attic, or: tell the house-elves to buy some more of that chocolate chips ice cream, when one of those to-be-ordered-around house-elves appeared in front of him, with a panicked expression on its tiny face and started to bounce up and down, while screaming in a high-pitched voice: "Master Malfoy, Master Malfoy, Sir has to come with Wobbly, Sir. Harry Potter, is in danger, Sir, you have to save him, Master Malfoy. Sir has to help,..."
That was enough for the Death Eater and he jumped, as gracefully as only a Malfoy can when in such hurry, out of the car and raced to the Dursleys' door, shooting a well aimed Alohomora its way.
Of course the door would have opened since the Dursleys weren't able to spell lock their doors, but something huge blocked the doorway- Vernon Dursley, who was so into beating his nephew, he didn't notice the tall blond man behind him and so he got a bit of s shock as he was flung in the air and crashed into the next wall.
"Now, listen Muggle", a very agitated Lucius growled, "You will never ever set hand on your nephew again. You will stay in this house and if you are very lucky and the Dark Lord doesn't think, you should be punished for this, you will live, but I doubt that. Did you understand this?"
The Muggle gulped and nodded, before crawling through the next door.
A pained cough brought Lucius out of his musings about why exactly he had become a Death Eater. He rushed to the curled up body on the floor, but as he tried to roll him over, he flinched so violently, that he stopped.
"Potter?", he said in the softest voice he could muster, "Harry? It's okay. He won't touch you ever again, you're save. I promise..."
His eyes fluttered open and locked to his: "Don't... tell anyone..."
To say that Lucius was confused would be an understatement, to say that he was worried would be the understatement of the year, but that would have to wait: "Harry?", he asked again, "I'm no healer. I will have to bring you either to St. Mungo's or to Hogwarts, which one would you prefer?"
"Neither", it was barely more than a whisper, "I promise I won't die, I'll be fine in a couple of days, please, don't...", his voice broke once again.
Why didn't he want him to bring him to a healer? He needed a healer that much was clear, even to the Death Eater's eyes. Why hadn't he told anyone the real reason, why he didn't want to go back here? Surely, if Dumbledore had known he would've allowed him to stay at Hogwarts. To any other student it would have been the obvious choice and Harry was Dumbledore's Golden Boy, for Salazar's sake.
But Lucius Malfoy was not a man to assume that what seems obvious was always right and at the moment he had little time to let these things bother him too much, so he approached the beaten boy carefully: "Okay, I call a truce: I won't tell anybody and I won't bring you to a healer, unless your condition doesn't improve in the next three days. I will bring you to my home and you will drink any potion I see fit. Truce?"
Silence followed, in which Harry searched for something in his eyes, what he didn't know, but he seemed to find it: "Truce!", even weaker than before and his eyes closed again.
Malfoy took this as a sign to get him in the car and then as fast as possible to the manor.
"I will have to carry you", he informed him.
"Stupefy."
It took a moment for the Death Eater to realise, what he wanted him to do: "Are you sure?"
The boy tensed visibly and his jaw clenched, but he gave a short nod. Malfoy administered the spell, before taking the limp body in his arms and making his way to the limousine closely followed by Wobbly.