Chapter 10. Old Acquaintances
August 1988
Harry walked along the beach, angrily kicking away pebbles and small sticks. He was in a foul mood.
The whole family had come to the seaside where they rented an old Muggle mansion for the whole month of August. They even brought Dobby with them. Skilfully cast charms scared off overly intrusive Muggles, and the big garden hid the house from prying eyes.
They had been there for a week, and the weather was still awful — there was no chance to bask in the sun or swim. It was the first day without rain, but Harry managed to quarrel with everyone. First with Draco, trying to decide whose turn it was to wear the dark green leather cloak with dragon scale print. The ill-fated cloak was a misguided present from Severus to both boys, which made it an eternal apple of discord. Then with Narcissa, when she tried to calm them down. And in the end with his dad, when Lucius announced that the water was still too cold for swimming so they would not go to the shore, but would drive to the nearest town with a Wizarding neighbourhood. It all ended badly, of course. Lucius lost his temper and said they would go to town without Harry who would stay at the mansion where he could throw tantrums all he liked — alone.
At first, Harry stayed at the mansion as he was told, sulked and tried to read the assigned fairy tales by Perrault in French. Having finished the book, he started to play Exploding Snap with himself, but got bored soon.
He perched on the windowsill, hugged his knees and imagined his foster parents and Draco having fun in town without him. They were probably sitting in a cafe eating something delicious... The idea made him so unhappy that he could not take it anymore. He jumped down, went to his and Draco's bedroom and dressed for a walk. Then he ran out of the house in the direction of the seashore.
For some time he had fun. He sat on the beach a little, threw pebbles into the water, then walked along the shoreline, proud that he was so grown up and independent. Then, however, Harry remembered everything that happened in the morning, and his mood was again spoiled. He was mad at his parents for not taking him with them and at himself for behaving so stupidly and childishly. He was also very much ashamed that he had run away from home like some fool from a sentimental book written a hundred years ago.
Harry was almost ready to turn back when he stumbled into someone big and soft because he was not looking where he was going.
"I am sorry, sir," he said politely, lifting his head... and meeting Uncle Vernon's eyes. "Oops!"
"I'll show you Oops!" his uncle snapped and grabbed the boy's collar. "Watch where you're going, brat! Where did you..." He stopped short, obviously recognizing Harry. "You little scum!" The man grabbed Harry's arm with his fat fingers. "We had so much trouble because of you... Well, now everything will be fine..." He started dragging Harry with him.
"Let me go!" Harry was indignant. "They expect me at home soon!"
"That's right," Vernon smirked. "Petunia will have words with you... The police harassed us for six months because of you, accusing us of God knows what! Neighbours started looking oddly at us so we had to move... We were robbed, and the bank collapsed..." he murmured vehemently, his spittle flying. "We'll see now, I'll prove that we were innocent. They'll pay us damages... And you'll be sent to an orphanage, they'll beat your stupid ideas out of you..."
Harry was really scared now. His uncle was clearly off his rocker, and Harry noticed his shabby clothes. It looked like the Dursleys were not doing well. Besides, the man reeked awfully of wine or something like it...
Harry willed himself not to panic. Maybe when they got to the Dursleys' house he would be able to call for help. In the meantime, it was not wise to make his uncle angry... Harry stopped kicking and shuffled after his kidnapper, sorry for the umpteenth time that he could not do real magic and that children's natural magic could not be controlled.
They soon came to a lopsided, shabby house at the end of the village, unfortunately without meeting anyone.
"Petunia!" the man shouted opening the door. "Look who I've brought with me!"
He shoved Harry forward so forcefully the boy almost tripped.
"Oh!" his aunt flung out her arms. Then she examined the boy more closely and gasped, "Vernon, look at his clothes!"
Harry stared at her quizzically. Why was she gaping at him? He did not even wear a robe today, so why was she so surprised?
"Look, Vernon," she pointed with a trembling finger at the top button of Harry's shirt. "It's a pearl!"
"A fake probably," Vernon grumbled.
"Of course not." Harry felt offended. "Malfoys do not wear fakes. Neither do Potters."
"So your guardian is rich, isn't he?" Uncle Vernon suddenly gave Harry an oily glance.
"Very," Harry nodded. Maybe he would get lucky... if his uncle was foolish enough to try blackmailing Lucius Malfoy. "His buttons are made of diamonds," he added in a fake fit of naiveté.
The Dursleys looked at each other. By the expression on his uncle's face Harry realized that the bait was in.
"And where do you live?" his uncle asked.
"In the house on the hill," answered Harry. "There, over the harbour..."
"Right," Vernon announced. "You wait here while I'll have a pleasure of talking to your guardian... What was his name, you said?"
"I did not say anything," Harry snorted dismissively. "His name is Lucius Aurelius Malfoy."
"Perfect." Vernon smiled nastily. "Meanwhile..."
Before Harry could blink, he was locked in the cupboard. Again.
X X X
Lucius paced the room like a caged lion.
"I do not know what I will do when I find him..."
It was getting dark. Narcissa was sitting at the table in tears. She was holding her head with her hands and whimpering quietly. Confused Draco was stroking her shoulders tenderly. It went without saying that the house, the garden and the shoreline had been already searched. Guilty Dobby who missed the moment Harry left the mansion was relentlessly hitting his head on the fire grate.
"Dobby, stop that right now!" Lucius snapped. The elf stilled in fear. "Can you find him?"
The poor house elf sniffled.
"Dobby can try. Dobby will search every place..."
"It will take too much time." Lucius sighed and looked at the magical clock on the mantelpiece. Three arrows were pointing at home, the fourth one — at trouble. "But apparently..."
Dobby suddenly stilled and listened.
"Master Lucius, sir... There is an intruder at the gates. A Muggle, sir."
Lucius almost ordered to get rid of the guest, but changed his mind suddenly. It occurred to him that the Muggle could have information about Harry. If anything happened, Harry could try to contact his family...
Without a single thought about the impression his robe might give, he walked steadily to the garden gates. A shabby Muggle hovered under the big street light nearby. The man reeked of alcohol and cheap tobacco. Lucius screwed his face.
"What can I do for you?" he asked coldly.
"Mr. Malfoy?" the Muggle grinned. With disgust, Lucius recognized Vernon Dursley. For a second he was surprised by the man's appearance and obviously disastrous state of his affairs, but then he remembered which spells according to Severus and Dumbledore kept Harry safe in the Dursleys' house. He smiled spitefully inside his head. Blood magic can be a nasty thing. Lily Potter probably did not realize what she was doing, but the result is impressive. The home where her child was mistreated will have bad luck for much longer than seven years.
"Yes, that is I." He opened the gate and let Vernon inside, drawing his wand discreetly. "What do you want?"
"The thing is we've found your boy..." Dursley said with slimy and at the same time surprisingly impudent overtones.
Lucius gritted his teeth and silently cursed the Ministry that had banned the use of Imperio. He could have located Harry in no time just by ordering this damned blackmailer to lead him to the boy.
"I am all ears," he said icily.
X X X
The cupboard where Harry was locked was a real one, not a closet under the staircase like the one before, but a musty, dirty cupboard smelling of foul clothes and mould.
What was I thinking? he berated himself, wondering whether his family had already returned. They must be looking for me. Mum is crying, and dad is angry... And I am in a big trouble now!
Harry sighed, propped his chin on his hands and stared longingly at the door. A thin light shone from under it. Then Harry got angry. How dare they lock him here! Stupid, greedy, nasty... Muggles! He looked angrily at the door and wholeheartedly wished for it to open. The metallic snap of the door latch was almost deafening, like a thunder in the silence.
And now what? Harry thought, feeling perplexed.
He stood up gingerly, stepped close to the door and opened it a little; it looked like nobody was there. He opened the door wider, scanning the narrow corridor through the door opening. He still could see nobody outside.
He tiptoed out the door, trying not to make a sound, and headed toward the front door. With luck, he would get out of here...
A floorboard squeaked under his foot, and he dashed blindly for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Petunia stood on the threshold with her arms crossed.
Harry straightened, copied her pose and stared at her angrily and coldly like his father could.
"Home," he snapped.
"I don't think so, dear," she snorted. "To the cupboard."
"I 'will not. I am hungry." Harry was indignant. When his uncle was not around, he felt much more confident. "Anyway," he cast a sidelong glance at Petunia, "do you think my father will be pleased if he finds me in a cupboard?"
His aunt, apparently, did not think so, since she frowned, pursed her lips and asked, "Do you want something to eat?"
Harry suppressed a wish to roll his eyes.
"Yes."
"Let's go to the kitchen." She shoved him forward. "I'll find you some bread and cheese."
Harry sighed and shuffled after her, figuring that a kitchen was better than a cupboard.
X X X
Lucius stared at the Muggle in front of him in amazement. This creature honestly believed that he was controlling the situation, did he not? He dared to take something Lucius considered his own and blackmail him? Lucius laughed hoarsely, thoroughly confusing this not the smartest of Muggles.
"Wait here," Lucius ordered. "I will bring the requested sum immediately."
He turned and walked to the house decisively. In the hall he summoned some newspapers and transfigured them into two thick bundles of fifty pounds notes – the only Muggle money he saw close enough to remember its design. Then he smirked darkly, put on his gloves and cast Confundus. After a little thought, he also added an invisible mark to trace the person who pocketed the money. Most likely this would not be necessary, but better safe than sorry.
"Dobby!" He snapped his fingers.
"Yes, sir?" The house elf looked guilty and scared.
"Tell Cissy that this Muggle knows where Harry is and that I'm going to bring the boy back. Tell her not to worry."
"Yes, master, sir." The relief on the house elf's face was evident.
"And start the dinner," Lucius ordered and without waiting for the next "Yes, master, sir" stepped back into the garden.
Vernon Dursley was waiting patiently for him near the gate. Lucius was carefully playacting the role of a man making the best of a bad bargain and handed the blackmailer one of the bundles.
"This is half of the sum. You will get the rest after I see the boy."
Dursley took the money and smiled, showing his tobacco-stained teeth.
"Agreed. But show me the other half."
Lucius shrugged and showed the money, holding it out of the Muggle's reach, then put it back into his pocket.
"Let us go. I do not have much time."
"Of course, of course." Dursley clutched the money nervously, and his gaze turned confused. The spell was working. The fat man hastily pocketed the money and walked down the street. Lucius followed. He remembered too late that he was wearing a robe and used a Notice-Me-Not charm. Not that he minded if Muggles saw him, but any distraction would be inconvenient.
It was already dark. They walked down the street toward the esplanade, then took several crooked and dirty alleys with almost no streetlamps to reach the waterside neighbourhood. Dursley brought Lucius to the shabbiest house on the outskirts of the village.
Quel trou à rats! Lucius thought with revulsion.
"Welcome to our home," the Muggle said and opened the door in front of the guest.
Lucius screwed his face and entered the narrow and dark corridor lit by a single — what was it called? — ah yes, bulb hanging on a wire near the ceiling without a lampshade.
"Where is Harry?" he asked coldly.
"Just a moment..." Dursley hurried off around the corner where a small door was visible, and a sudden guess made Lucius shake with rage. This... scum dared to lock the child in the cupboard? Again?
In the next second Dursley found himself pushed into the wall by a hand with an iron grip, and with a wand thrust into his Adam's apple.
"Sale brute!" hissed Lucius. "Je vais te tuer..."
"Vernon!" a woman shrieked behind his back.
"Dad!"
Lucius threw the deadly pale Muggle away and turned around: Harry was standing near his aunt, dishevelled and dirty, but in one piece. Lucius was taken aback by relief that flooded him.
"Harry, are you alright?"
"Yeah." The boy took advantage of the general confusion, ran up and hugged him.
Lucius smiled with a corner of his mouth.
"Perfect. Accio money!"
The money flew out of the pocket of stunned Vernon Dursley who was still sitting on the floor and rubbing his neck nervously. Lucius caught it, removed the second bundle from his own pocket and pointed his wand at both — Finite Incantatem! — to take the tracking mark and Confundus off. Then he deleted the both Dursleys' memories of the last few minutes — Obliviate!
"Here is your money," he threw the money on the floor carelessly, smirked and added, "But I warn you, it will not do you any good. Let's go, Harry." He took the boy's hand and left the house without waiting for the Dursleys to come back to their senses.
The first several minutes they walked in silence. Then Harry asked quietly, "Why aren't we Apparating?"
"I prefer to walk," Lucius answered, "and calm down a little. Are you tired?"
"No."
After a pause, Harry said quietly, but firmly, "I'm sorry, Dad."
Lucius took a deep breath trying to stay calm.
"For what?" he asked sarcastically, allowing himself to demonstrate only a small portion of his annoyance and the fear he experienced.
Harry swallowed and answered, "For leaving... without permission. And ending up in a stupid situation, and you having to look for me, and..." he stammered, then continued, barely whispering, "And to pay money."
Lucius stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face him.
"Silly child," he sighed. "Money... and the rest... do not matter. You disobeyed me, however. And made your mother worry."
And me, he thought angrily.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Harry bit his lip and looked down. "I will not do it again."
Lucius sighed once more, patted his head and said in a gentler tone, "Let's go, Mum is waiting for us. By the way... how did Mr. Dursley learn where to look for me?"
"I told him." Harry clutched Lucius's hand more firmly. "Aunt Petunia noticed my buttons, and I made it clear that you were... rich. I thought if Uncle Vernon tried to blackmail you, you could find me."
"Well done," Lucius said with approval. "And why was he looking for you in a cupboard?"
"He locked me up there," Harry sighed. "I sat there, looking at the door, and got mad, and then it opened. I almost ran away, but Aunt Petunia met me near the door. I said that you'd be angry if you saw me in the cupboard. So she did not lock me up again."
"It is good that you did not panic in the difficult situation. But it would be even better not to get into such trouble, of course."
They almost reached the house when Lucius remarked, "You realize that I will have to punish you, don't you?"
"Yes, Dad," Harry answered obediently, but there was a trace of fear in his voice. Lucius silently cursed the Dursleys again. How could he make the child learn about discipline if punishment and abuse was the same thing to him?
"While we are here," he began in a deliberately calm voice, "I will not deprive you of any privileges. We are on vacation, after all. When we return to the manor, though, I will take your broom away. For two weeks. You will also write a hundred lines about not going away without permission. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Dad," Harry answered almost happily.
Patience, thought Lucius. By the by he will learn to see these things in the right way. And I wager he will not ever be accused of love for Muggles.
"Harry!" As soon as they entered the house, Harry was hugged by a sniffling Narcissa. "You scared us so much! Where have you been?"
"Calm down, Cissy," a familiar voice grumbled, and Harry with some surprise noticed that Severus was there.
"Sev?" Lucius was also astonished. "What are you doing here?"
"Consoling your wife," Severus answered archly. "You have no idea how much energy it takes."
"You think so?" Lucius hugged Narcissa and kissed her cheek. "It is not that hard. But I would prefer you not to console my wife in that way."
Draco, who stood a little away from the group, sniggered quietly.
"Let's go and eat," he said. "I'm awfully hungry."
Dobby was beside himself with happiness that Harry had been found. The elf almost danced around the table while bringing the dishes. When agitation died out a little, Severus asked:
"Can someone explain to me what had happened?"
Harry looked down and blushed.
"En deux mots, Harry was left at home as a punishment," Lucius answered serenely, carefully cutting off a piece of pork a la Bordeaux. "He decided, however, to take a walk to the sea and was unfortunate enough to meet his uncle who, I must say, has quite ruined himself in the last three years. Frankly speaking, it is beyond me why this… gentleman would need the nephew he could not stand, but then Harry suggested that he could blackmail me, and the man came here. I transfigured some Muggle money for that leech, and he led me to his disgusting hut. I took Harry away from there."
"You paid him?" Severus was amazed. "Why?"
"You doubt my generosity, Sev?" Lucius smirked. "Don't. I decided to indulge myself and worsen Mr. Vernon Dursley's already disastrous state of affairs."
Everyone looked at him questioningly, and he smiled.
"There is only one thing I regret. It is unlikely that I shall see the man's face when he will be tried for circulating counterfeit money."
Footnotes:
Quel trou à rats (fr.) — What a hut!
Sale brute! Je vais te tuer... (fr.) — You scum! I'll kill you…
En deux mots (fr.) — To tell a long story short.