The real title of this story is: "Harry Potter and the Effects of Inattentional Blindness". However, it exceeds the maximum character limitations, so I have shortened it to the title listed. Sorry about that.

Kain: Lucius was referencing the fact that the debt had existed at all, not that it had yet to be paid. The debts in the Room of Requirement are due to Harry's order to turn around, so the debt Draco owes would belong to him exclusively since Harry was the one who both ordered the save and grabbed him.

BAFan: Thank you so much for trying again! I like the comments. They encourage me to continue despite sleep deprivation and a baby screaming at me for no readily apparent reason.

Twist: Thank you very much. I had to include some consequences of his childhood, because it always felt it was odd how even J.K. Rowling didn't quite have too many effects of his horrible childhood in the story. I had a great childhood, but I didn't have a father (at least none worth speaking of) and I didn't realize how much it had affected me until I had to interact with my father-in-law. The differences may seem subtle to the person suffering them, but to everyone else it could seem like a lot.

Thanks very much for all the comments and messages congratulating me on breaking up Harry and Ginny without first heaping on a bunch of childish bullshit. I will strive for adult breakups in all of my stories, because I'm... well, an adult.

The model of Malfoy Manor I have decided on is in my blog: Coffee and catastrophy . blogspot . com (fill in blanks since doesn't like links)- Hope you all like it.

"Deletrius!"

Lucius barely managed to dodge enough to preserve his life. The spell grazed his left hand and the tang of blood filled his nostrils as the gaping wound caused by disintegrating skin poured out onto the alley floor. Instinctively, he reached for a wand that was not there as he ran. It had been a stupid reflex he should really have trained himself out of by now, as it had cost him valuable time in pressing his cloak to the wound to stem the bleeding. As he did so he could feel the bones of his hand and grit his teeth. The healers would have a lot of trouble healing this one, if he managed to get that far.

Lucius continued to run as his pursuers' footsteps echoed behind him. There were two, maybe three if one was silent enough to disguise himself in the echoes. Wandless and helpless, Lucius had no choice but to run. He had been foolish, he now knew, to travel without his House Elf. When Potter had been with him Lucius felt confident enough that the brat would keep his usual attackers at bay without the Elf his son insisted he bring with him at all times as a guard. That evening of being without his diminutive bodyguard had made him haughty and he had left alone to go on his errands today.

That had clearly been a mistake. Now he found himself with no recourse but to flee and duck to avoid the curses, hexes and jinxes launched his way.

Much as Lucius hated to admit it, he now knew that a House Elf was a powerful creature. During the time that his home had been host to throngs of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord, the elves had taken to silently defending their masters. Despite the horrid way the family had treated them through the years, the way their masters thought of them, and above all else the fact that they had severely punished themselves afterward, all three Malfoys had found their rooms powerfully warded. The elves had gone out of their way to ensure that Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco had safe places to sleep, healing when they needed it, food when they were too stressed or too busy to remember it, and sometimes merely the company of another living thing as they rested with an elf or two standing by the door to help them sleep. Lucius owed his elves a great deal, and when Granger's laws had begun to come to fore the Malfoys had been one of the few families embroiled in Death Eater activities to retain their elves.

Because no matter the suffering they had endured, the Malfoys had apologized and promised to do better by their servants. They had learned the hard way that their elves were valuable, if only because of their loyalty, and were not merely beasts of burden as they had been raised to believe. There was no choice but to accept reality after experiencing it firsthand – House Elves were Beings, not Creatures. They had kept their word. Most of this was accomplished by Narcissa, and a fair amount by Draco. Lucius himself had not done much besides reading aloud the newly enforced laws that the elves had not known of so that they would know their rights. It was not much, but it had earned him a loyal guard in Zither, the elf he had with him when he'd met Potter.

Now that they knew how very powerful House Elves could be when needed, Lucius had been begged by his wife and son to endure the constant presence of Zither if he ever left the Manor grounds. If nothing else a quick shield charm and apparition would keep him safe, and the elf certainly knew how to fight if needed.

And now Lucius had gone and left his guard at home.

As he rounded a corner he knocked down a display of crystals, hoping that his pursuers would either skewer their feet on the spears or trip and slip over the spheres. The shop parrot began screaming his name, clearly having been put there to identify thieves. He didn't pay the thing any mind; he could pay for the crystals later and the shopkeeper would be appeased. Just now he needed to get to safety, and the Apothecary he had helped fund was mere blocks away. The owner, Deidre, was his best chance of a sanctuary until the Aurors arrived to investigate the chase. His hope of that helping was short-lived, however, as he passed a few stray cats in the alley and the attackers used the opportunity wisely.

"Oppugno!" one shouted. Though Lucius had lost them for a moment due to the toppled crystals, the cats slowed him down. They clawed and bit at him, climbing atop his back and leaving long, jagged scratches and bites everywhere they could reach. Hoping they weren't rabid was the only thing Lucius could do aside from grabbing them anywhere he could reach and flinging them away from him as best he could.

By the time Lucius had gotten them off of him the pursuers had caught up with him. His head exploded with pain and he fell when one of the crystal balls was thrown and caught him on the left side of his forehead. When he hit the ground he was dimly aware of two people flanking him and a third standing near his shoulders. A boot planted firmly in his back.

"Defector." A deep, obviously disguised voice spat at him.

Lucius knew better than to argue at the moment. He lie still and pretended to be dazed, waiting for the right moment to act. This moment came not long after in the form of an attacker lowering their wand a bit too far to cast something horrible on Lucius.

Lucius snatched it. "Periculum!"

The red sparks shot out high and fast, surely alerting everyone in Diagon Alley at this late hour to his distress in Knockturn. The attackers fled when shouts and footsteps headed their way, and Lucius soon found himself surrounded by well-meaning witches and wizards who nonetheless seemed certain he had played a part in the attack, if only by goading his attackers.

When the Aurors arrived to take him in for questioning, Lucius began to get the sinking feeling he should not have snatched that wand, even in the act of defense of his life. Surely there would be no question that he had broken his probation, however unavoidable it had been. His family might have had an easier time dealing with his death than living the rest of their lives knowing he waited for it in a small, cold cell.

"Boo!" Harry said playfully when he pulled the menu away from his face.

The infant he was playing with squealed loudly at him, which made a good portion of the patrons turn and smile, and flailed her chubby little hands to try and reach his glasses to snatch them away for the fifth time. She seemed to think they were utterly fascinating, but every time she got them she would only stare at his eyes. He was beginning to think she just wanted them off.

The problem was he couldn't see her then. And he wanted to see, because he had already noticed things her mother had not. Like the way she stared at his eyes like she knew something about them, or the way things seemed to get into her hands when they weren't actually within her reach, and how the shade of her purple rattle had changed to a darker color and back three times since he'd arrived.

If this child didn't get a Hogwarts letter he'd eat his tie, which meant he and Audrey were going to be much more open with each other later on. She'd need his help getting her school things together if nothing else. Not many organizations existed even now to help Muggle-born PARENTS deal with the strange new world their children would be living in; instead it was merely a board post at Hogwarts asking Wizarding parents to volunteer their time. Not many people answered the posts because they were too busy getting their own children ready to help anyone else.

That wasn't why he played with her of course; the fact that she was a bit witchy was just a coincidence.

"No, no. You can't have my glasses, baby-doll," he smiled. "But you can have this. It makes noise, see?" He shook the rattle a few times to get her attention with it, and her entire focus was suddenly latched onto the toy like nothing else of interest existed. With an insistent, "AH!' she snatched it away from him and stuck it in her mouth. She was teething, so he winced when he heard the scratching of sharp little teeth on the surface. He made a mental note not to let her get hold of his fingers. It was something he'd overheard Mrs. Weasley telling Fleur that he'd made a point to remember: Babies bite. Hard.

"You look a little young to be a father," her mother, Audrey, said with a smile. "How many do you have?"

Harry smiled sadly at her. "Oh. None, er… I'm just waiting for the right match to come along. I haven't been having much luck with that."

He had been playing with the baby at the table behind him in the Muggle coffee shop he frequented for a good fifteen minutes or so, to give her mother a chance to eat. They were both regulars and knew each other pretty well by now, but Audrey hadn't asked him if he had any kids yet.

"Really? You're so good with them. Do you babysit?"

He smiled at her, recognizing she could tell he didn't want to talk about his relationship troubles. "Well, I will be soon enough. A lot of my friends just got married this year; most all of them, in fact. We'll be knee-deep in rug rats inside five years. I wouldn't be surprised if I get to borrow a few of them now and then."

"Bella would appreciate the company if you ever have an evening free, Harry."

"I'd like that, thank you," he nodded, inwardly cringing. Harry liked Audrey, but of all the names she picked for this angel she had to use Bella. His only consolation was that the full name was Belladonna, not Bellatrix. None the less he steadfastly refused to use it and instead use nicknames like baby-doll and bee-bee (because she had been wearing overalls with bumble bees on them when they met). Luckily his friend hadn't noticed yet, or hadn't said anything about it.

As they talked, Harry suddenly found himself looking at a letter that an owl had dropped in front of him. It was a bright yellow with an orange seal, with his name delicately gracing the front in lovely calligraphy, along with the thickly lettered words PLEASE HELP. The wax of the seal contained gold flecks, he could tell even from this distance, and he already knew it wasn't from the Ministry. Those urgent letters were red, like Howlers, and demanded immediate attention by vibrating on the table once they were dropped. This… was likely from a friend. Or at least from someone that considered Harry their friend, or thought he was theirs. He didn't recognize the writing, but it bore a strong resemblance to Draco Malfoy's intricate cursive when he was trying to write neatly, the way he had been taught at home.

Narcissa, perhaps? The woman was clearly meddling in his life, though even when he had analyzed the situation Harry had trouble thinking she had any ill intentions. It was the same way Molly Weasley behaved when she thought he needed help with anything from eating enough to winning a war – she was going to do it whether he liked it or not. He was beginning to think it was simply a psychological thing that appeared after a woman reproduced. Harry seriously thought he should begin calling it the 'Mum Reflex'.

Audrey looked oddly at the letter, and Harry realized she had clearly not seen the owl, or seen it drop. Belladonna on the other hand, was screaming and flailing her arms in the direction the owl had got to, as well as a cloaked woman in purple outside. There were obviously spells on both to prevent Muggles from noticing their presence, powerful ones, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what was so important.

"Excuse me, it seems I have to go." He stood and bowed his head lightly to Audrey, who pouted at him.

"Why? We just got finished eating. I wanted to talk a while."

Harry shook his head. "I know, but I've just found this in my pocket. A friend gave it to me this morning, and I'm afraid I didn't actually look at it until just now." He held the letter aloft and she frowned.

"That looks important. Why didn't she just call your cell?" she asked in bewilderment.

Harry only took a moment to think of an excuse for that. "She lives in a rural area, and doesn't have a telephone. Never did like them."

"Well, I won't keep you," Audrey said pleasantly. "Let me know if I can help her out too, ok? Sometimes you just need some girl time to talk about things, and as useful as you are…"

Harry laughed. "I know. Girl time doesn't apply to me. Later, Audrey. Bye, Bee-Bee."

The baby waved at him and threw a fit as he walked away. Harry smiled and shook his head at that. He hadn't known her long, and already he was on a level of familiarity that justified hissy fits when he left. It was encouraging to know somebody's kid liked him that much, even if he didn't have his own.

Once he turned into a nearby alley, he put on his cloak and apparated home.

The letter had begun buzzing insistently in his hand, and he gripped it tightly as he entered the Black home. He opened it immediately upon the door closing behind him, and grit his teeth as he read.

'Mr. Harry James Potter,' it began, clearly trying to butter him up by citing his father's name within his own.

'Last night at just past ten in the evening, my husband was brutally attacked by three loyalist Death Eaters that have yet to be identified. During this attack he was forced to take one of the attacker's wands and cast Periculum to summon assistance.'

Makes sense, Harry thought to himself. He still didn't see what he was to do about it, if the attack was past.

'Upon willingly remaining at the scene to report the attack and submit to the Aurors what had occurred, Lucius was taken into custody under the pretext of breaking his probation by using a wand to cause harm to another.'

Harry blinked. What the hell?

'It has been assumed,' the letter seemed to inherit a legitimate Malfoy drawl at this point despite not actually speaking aloud, 'that Lucius instigated the attack by challenging his aggressors. I know this to be untrue. Lucius swore to both me and our son that he would hold to the letter of his probation to the best of his ability so that he could remain home where he belongs.'

Harry had quite a few thoughts of his own on where Lucius Malfoy belonged, but it wasn't in the least polite after the Ministry had decided. Still, this seemed decidedly unfair. It felt a lot like the hearing Harry had gone through after saving Dudley from the Dementors that had been moved at the last minute in the hopes that he wouldn't show up and forfeit his right to contest expulsion from school. It smelled very strongly of bull shit.

He essentially ignored the rest of the letter and groaned to himself. He hastily scrawled an agreement to meet with her on the back of the parchment and sent it back with the owl.

Oh well, he thought to himself. At least the rest of his week wouldn't be boring.