This is a bit of a filler chapter. As I said, I'm still regaining my feel for this story. If you have any ideas for the plot or comments on what I've already written, I'd be happy to hear them. Thanks!

The Road Not Taken

Chapter Six: Settling Down

Malfoy Manor was splendour personified, and Harry was not used to it. The floors in the corridors were made of marble, there were expensive looking statues in every nook and moving portraits frowning from every wall, there were billions of rooms for you to get lost in-oh, and there were 4 floors. What sort of house was that? How could someone actually live here? This was the sort of place that should be covered with an inch of dust, closed off with tape and glass boxes, and be purely for people to oogle at. It wasn't that it wasn't nice, per se…it just didn't make Harry feel at home.

The little creature leading Harry seemed harmless enough, however, but he (was it a he?) looked rather weird, and Harry didn't quite dare start a conversation with him. So he just dutifully trooped after him, looking about at the maginificent manor house.

"Who are you?" A snooty drawl made both Harry and Dobby stop.

A boy of around Harry's age had just rounded the corner to see them. From the polished attire and snooty expression the boy wore and Dobby's murmured 'young master', Harry guessed that this was Lucius' son. Ixander's nephew.

"I'm talking to you!" The boy said demandingly when Harry didn't reply.

"This is Master's young guest, sir!" Dobby answered for Harry.

The boy gave Harry a once over, and sneered. Yep, surely Harry's messy hair and shabby clothing did not impress him perticularly.

"Father's guest? Him? You're sure it wasn't that he was trying to nick something? He sure looks desperate enough," the boy said as if Harry was not there.

Harry scowled.

"So you're Lucius Malfoy's son?" Harry shot back just as snarkily, not to be outdone. "You sure are rude enough to be, yes."

The boy scowled.

"Are you calling my father rude?"

"I didn't say that. I was only calling you rude," Harry retorted.

The situation was quickly spiralling out of control, and the watching Dobby was getting nervous. It was perhaps lucky that at that moment Ixander appeared.

Ixander stalked to Harry's side as if he owned the place, impressing Harry and intimidating the boy.

"What's the matter, Harry? Who is this?"

Before Harry could answer, the boy drew all attention by squeaking and taking a step backwards. Harry stared at him for a moment, puzzled, before realising what the problem was. Yes, Ixander did look rather scary if you didn't know him…or even if you knew him and wasn't on his good side. For the first time Harry was learning what it was to have somebody who would protect him, someone he could go to. Therefore, Harry didn't bother to hide his grin.

"I don't know, Ixander. Maybe your brother picked him off the streets."

Ixander raised his eyebrows, and turned to appraise the frightened kid. Pointy face, blond hair, grey eyes, yep, this was Lucius' child alright. The one with which he had been threatening Lucius not ten minutes ago.

"Ah, no Harry, I'm afraid not. I daresay you are Lucius' son, Draco, yes? I am your uncle, Ixander…Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy was very far from snooty now. His mouth hung open most unattractively, and his eyes were attempting to bulge out of their sockets. It was a few moments before he found his voice.

"No! No way!" He yelled. And without waiting for any sort of reply, he pushed past Harry and Ixander, running to find his father.

While Ixander was mature enough to keep his amusement to a small smirk, Harry wasn't, and burst out into giggles before Draco was even out of sight.

"Oh, Ixander…you're so…cool!"

Ixander looked down at the child, his smirk morphing into a rather geniune smile. Yes, he was really growing quite fond of this child. He would not stand for any harm coming to him. And…he would make him great.

"Come on, Harry. Let's go to our rooms."

Ixander's room apparently didn't need much preparation at all, for it was still in the impeccable condition it had been when Ixander had last stayed there. The only difference was that all the personal touches that Ixander had given his room over the years had been removed. Lucius again. But Ixander kept his dark thoughts of his brother to himself, and turned to Harry.

"Harry," he said, "we shall stay here for the remainder of the summer holidays. As Lucius has granted us sanctuary, it will be safe. However powerful the Volturi are, they won't dare meddle with wizarding affairs. But I'm afraid we shall have to get your school supplies by owl order…I can't risk going to Diagon Alley again."

"Oh," Harry said, looking put out, "but…what about my wand?"

Harry had a very good point. Ixander couldn't possibly fob Harry off with some second hand wand that might not fit him…there was a way, but for that, he'd have to trust Lucius. Ixander scowled, hating the forces that had made his brother's path cross his once more.

"You're right, Harry. You will have to go to Diagon Alley. You'll have to go with Lucius and Draco-if I remember right, Draco is the same age as you, he'll be starting at Hogwarts too."

"Really?" Harry wrinkled his nose. "That's tough."

Ixander smiled. It seemed Harry bore as little love for the Malfoy heir as he did for his father. He stood up, brushing down his clothes.

"Perhaps you should have a rest, Harry. If you need anything just call for the house elf."

"Huh? Where are you going?"

"For lunch."

"I want lunch too!"

Ixander fixed him with a perplexed look.

"Harry, when I say lunch…"

"Oh…" Harry realised, embarrassed. "Well, happy eating."

Ixander's surprised laugh rang through the corridors.

Harry lay back on Ixander's bed with a huff, and marvelled at how much his life had changed since he had run away. He had turned from Harry, the freak, to Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived. He didn't have to put up with all the Dursleys' shit anymore, and instead, he got to travel around with Ixander, who was cool, clever, and nice to Harry. Draco was a bit of a snot, and Harry was rather dubious about Lucius, but Ixander seemed to have them under control. Harry's every childhood dream about a previously unknown relative come to take him away had been satisfied. Harry smiled. He was a bit tired, actually. He was really far too old for afternoon naps, but…he could just lie for a bit more. And within five minutes, Harry was asleep.

"Lord…lord…" Subservient murmurs followed Harry as he strode quickly along a torch-lit corridor. He ignored them. He needed to get somewhere…see someone.

There was a door at the end of the corridor. Harry pushed it open, and found himself in a large, torch-lit room, filled with kneeling, black-hooded figures. However, Harry weren't interested in them. His eyes searched the room. At that moment, a man detached from the shadows.

The man was tall and long-limbed, with pale skin and dark hair. There was something strange about the way he looked, or the way he moved, but Harry couldn't quite tell what it was. But he realised it was this person that he was looking for.

"So you have come to me…as you promised me…Harry…"

"I keep my promises," Harry said.

"And you will keep your promise to help me?" The man smiled.

"As long as you will keep your promises to me," Harry retorted, anxious. He needed something from this man.

The man laughed.

"You should trust me."

Harry said nothing. He didn't trust this man.

"I want to see him," Harry demanded.

The man appraised him.

"Just for a moment," Harry bargained.

"Very well," the man said, "but after your moment, we shall settle my side of the bargain."

The man clapped his hands twice, and two of the black hooded men kneeling on the ground rose silently, and disappeared through a door Harry had not previously noticed. A moment passed, and they returned, pushing a petrified figure. Harry's heart lurched. It was Ixander. His eyes were black as coal. Harry knew that they were starving him, starving him into madness.

"Your moment is over," the man said, and for the first time Harry thought that his voice was so cruel.

He turned back to look at the man. He was offering his hand. Harry looked at it, and then looked at his eyes, finding for the first time that they were crimson, the colour of blood. It was freaky. Hesitantly, Harry stretched out his own hand, slowly, slowly, as if in slow motion.

"HARRY! NO!" Ixander screamed, and Harry dropped his hand, startled-wasn't Ixander petrified? What was happening…

"Harry? Harry!"

"Wh-huh?" Harry woke suddenly, his eyes snapping open to show Ixander leaning over him, his hand on Harry's arm.

"You've been sleeping for ages," Ixander told him wryly, "I thought you should probably get up and have something to eat."

"Oh," Harry said, sitting up, rubbing his forehead. He felt a little weird. Did he have a dream?

"Come on, Harry," Ixander said.

Harry stood up, and followed Ixander from the room, frowning. He was quite sure he'd been dreaming about something, but now that he was awake he couldn't remember what it was.

"Ixander? When you were waking me up…did you say 'Harry, no'?"

"What?" Ixander glanced at him, slightly confused. "No. I just said Harry. Why?"

Harry shrugged.

"Oh, I think I had a dream or something. It's nothing."

Ixander hummed noncommitally. They'd reached the dining hall-yes, the Malfoys were so posh they had a dining hall rather than a dining room-and Harry could see Lucius, Draco, and a woman he hadn't seem before whom he guessed to be Lucius' wife, sitting waiting for them. Never mind some strange dream he couldn't remember. At the moment, his reality was even more exciting and unbelievable than dreams.