Fallen Angel

by Atawalpa

Becoming a vampire for his 16th is not Harry's idea of a birthday present. But he wasn't even bitten so how did he become the impossible? He runs from all he knows to find out the answer and with the war looming on the horizon, Harry doesn't have much time to find new allies. Or even old enemies? D/H slash. Further warnings inside.

14. Hairline Cracks

Once again this is unbeta'd for now.

Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments, messages, and for favouriting/subscribing. You are all utterly wonderful and I wish you all the best for the new year.

Special thanks to facelesswriting for such patience and support, and tsearby, who gave me a push when I needed it.

X

Harry tried not to shift in the chair. His back was aching from his morning sparring session with Brann and Ardra, and now his was sitting in the cool, sophisticated office of his personal finance manager at Gringotts and feeling horribly out of place. Worse though was the fact that his mind kept on drifting back to the incident that had happened just after lunch, when he should have been preparing to come here.

Bringing his mind back to what he was doing, he scrawled his signature at the bottom of another thick parchment of legal jargon and it was whipped away, only to have another replace it moments later. Harry suppressed a sigh and bent forward to sign again.

"Last one, Mr Potter," the goblin, Ms Cret, announced as she placed another piece of paper on the table.

It had been Harry's first time meeting a female goblin and honestly she didn't look very different from the males. She was a bit taller, her limbs longer so she appeared a little more delicate, and her dark hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, but other than that Harry could see no difference. If she hadn't introduced herself as 'Ms' Cret in her gravelly voice than Harry would never have known, so now he was beating himself up for never studying other species outside of DADA. (History of Magic didn't count, obviously, since all Binns did was go over the same goblin rebellions over and over again without going into any detail about the goblins themselves and their culture. Binns seriously needed to go. It was baffling why Dumbledore was content to quite literally waste his students' time and leave another gaping hole in their knowledge.)

She, like all the other goblins he had encountered so far that day, treated him with a cold politeness but flinched if he moved too quickly. Whether it was because he was a vampire or because they hadn't forgiven him for his actions the last time he'd been in the bank he hadn't dared to ask.

Ms Cret reached forward and pulled the parchment away and stacked it neatly on top of all the others he had just signed.

"Excellent, I believe these are all in order, Mr Potter. If you would just give me a moment I will be right back with the deeds and keys to the properties."

As she reached forward Harry noticed that her long, claw-like fingernails were painted with a soft pastel green gloss. Harry tried not to gape as she scooped up the documents and walked smartly from the room.

Not knowing how long she would be, Harry stood and stretched out his aching joints. Brann and Ardra had been particularly hard on him earlier as it had been his last session with them until the winter break. The vindictive look in Ardra's eyes when he'd entered the dojang should have had him turning to run, but like a fool he'd stayed. So what had he got for staying? Half an hour's non-stop sparring with each of them, followed by going through the patterns from Chon-ji all the way to Kwang-Gae, then another long sparring session with the both of them. He was faster, but they had years more experience than him. In the end Ardra had crowed her triumph to the rooftops while Brann had cheered and Kurai, who had just arrived to thank Ardra and Brann for their training, chuckled from the doorway and subtly taunted Harry all through lunch.

Harry could say in all honesty that he'd rather be there, having the tar beaten out of him again, than in this office.

There was a window on the far side of the room and so Harry cut across to it to look out. There wasn't much of a view; it overlooked the rather barren courtyard Harry and Lucius, who was waiting in the anteroom outside, had been led through when they'd first arrived.

His eyes caught his own reflection and he stared for a moment, finding it strange to be looking at his own face again after he had just started to get used to the new one.

The door opened behind Harry and he turned to see Ms Cret entering holding just as many documents as she had left with, if not more.

"These are your copies of the documents, Mr Potter, as well as the deeds to both properties."

She placed the papers on the desk and then pulled two handsome wooded boxes, both a little smaller than a glasses case, from her pocket.

"And here are the keys."

She opened one and then the other, then placed them on top of the papers for his inspection. Harry moved forward, eager despite himself.

One box contained a single bronze old-fashioned key while the other contained two slightly smaller silver ones on a ring.

"The bronze key is for the cottage on Dartmoor, the silver keys are for the cottage in Scotland," Ms Cret helpfully supplied. Harry nodded gratefully and then pointed at the bronze key.

"Could you make me a replica of that one, please?"

"Certainly, Mr Potter, I'll see it's taken care of right away and it will be done for you by the end of this appointment, please take a seat," she moved around to her side of the desk and sat in her chair, then picked up and rang a small silver bell that had been resting beside her inkwell. As Harry sat the small, goblin-sized door that he had noticed when he'd first walked in opened and another goblin stepped in.

"Sennen, please make another copy of this key," Ms Cret held out the box containing the bronze key and as the smaller goblin came forward to take it she glanced at Harry. "You would not like a copy made of the other set, Mr Potter?"

Harry shook his head and Sennen took the box and scuttled out, all without looking at Harry. As Ms Cret settled back in her chair Harry felt he had to be certain one last time.

"As I mentioned in my letter to you, Ms Cret, I need my obtaining of the property in Scotland to remain confidential between us. As you know I have a guardian who up until I turn eighteen can request a certain amount of information on my finances, but this is something I can't have him finding out about."

Ms Cret gave Harry a tight smile.

"I assure you, Mr Potter, that as you have requested it now verbally as well as in writing that we cannot legally impart this information to him without your express permission. He can't even find out that you purchased two properties today as his level of jurisdiction does not go that far. Does this satisfy you, Mr Potter?" Harry nodded and she continued on. "Good, now then onto one of the other matters of your appointment today: as you have requested we have moved the specified amount from your Potter vault into a new vault under the name Mitsuho Himura with access granted for Sayuri Himura, Kurai Taira, and Severus Snape. The only one who knows of the money being transferred from another vault here at Gringotts is myself so it cannot be linked back to the Potter vault."

"Excellent," Harry breathed as he clasped his hands on the desk in front of him and the light caught on the rings he now wore, one on the middle finger of his right hand and the other on the index finger of his left.

He'd been given them last night and then had had to spend an hour learning the complex customs behind the meaning of which finger and which hand you wore a Crest ring on. Apparently you could only ever wear your own houses or clans ring on your left hand (as it was closest to your heart), unless you were marrying into another and then it went on the ring finger until a bonding ring replaced it; then it moved to the index finger, signifying that you were a part of the family. However, if the person's own family's house or clan was still more powerful they could chose to keep wearing their own family ring on the index instead. The right hand was a little simpler in that you only wore other people's houses or clans rings on it: if you wore their ring on your middle finger, then you had their favour and could use the ring for relatively small purchases as well as for influence. If the ring was worn on the index finger then you were essentially part of their family (but outside of marriage or adoption) and under their protection; you could almost do everything someone from the family could do with it, apart from actual access to the bank vault or the right to move money to another account.

Harry currently wore the Taira Clan ring on his left index finger and the Malfoy family crest ring on the middle finger of his right. Lucius had explained when he'd given Harry the ring that it would be unusual and therefore noticeable for him to immediately wear it on his right index, and to give it until the winter break before changing it. Harry had dreamed of his fingers falling off and the rings getting heavier and heavier, until they dragged him down to the ground where he couldn't move, that night.

At breakfast, before Harry had left for Tae Kwon Do, Draco had spotted the rings, choked on his drink and gone decidedly pink before hastily excusing himself. Narcissa had laughed and told the baffled Harry that Draco was just happy to see him wearing his families ring. Harry had found himself struggling to push down a smile; Draco's reactions to things were certainly entertaining and it had currently been the only light spot in an otherwise exhausting day.

"Mr Potter?"

Harry looked up and realised that to his embarrassment he'd been sitting there, just staring at the ring. He gave a light cough, shifted in his seat, and hoped like hell that he wasn't blushing.

"I apologise, please continue."

Ms Cret nodded.

"Regarding the last request of your letter. I have looked into it and contacted the solicitor that the Potter family has used for the last three generations. You should be hearing from them within the week."

"That's good to hear," Harry settled back in the chair, relieved that everything he had come here for had worked out.

There was a knock on the small door and Sennen entered again, this time holding two boxes instead of one.

"Excellent timing as always, Sennen. We were just finishing up," Ms Chet smiled and the younger goblin actually blushed, if that was what the green darkening his cheeks was, before placing the boxes before Harry on the table and again rushing out without looking at him.

Harry opened them and inspected the two identical keys before nodding in approval. Ms Chet gave him a tight smile and stood, withdrawing a smart tote bag with the Gringotts crest on it from a drawer in her desk to place Harry's paperwork and the boxed keys in.

"I am delighted to have been of service of you today, Mr Potter, and do not hesitate to get in contact with me again in future regarding any further financial advice or requests. I'll take you out to the anteroom where Mr Malfoy is waiting and then summon a guard to take you back to the portkey room. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your day."

She said all of this mechanically, obviously quoting from a script as she led Harry to the door and opened it for him. She didn't try to shake his hand and she shut the door so quickly after Harry stepped through it that it caught him slightly in the back.

Lucius looked up from where he was lounging in an armchair and smirked, looking every inch a rich playboy. He hadn't taken any aging potion before they'd left and when Harry had questioned it the Senior Malfoy had explained that they would be using the entrance and passages that were only for use by vampires. It did explain why Gringotts had sent him a portkey with their letter confirming his appointment.

"They can never get us to leave fast enough," Lucius snickered as he pushed himself to his feet, "all taken care of then?"

"Yes," Harry said as he reached into the bag and quickly checking inside the box to ensure it was the correct key before withdrawing it and holding it out. Lucius took the box and opened it up while Harry rooted around in the bag again for the property details and pictures.

"That's the copy I had made for you. If it's okay I'd like to go to the cottage straight away so you can familiarise yourself with the place and we can do that spell," Harry added as he pulled the needed papers to the top so he'd have easy access.

Lucius smiled warmly at him and Harry still found himself wanting to glance around to see who the man was looking at like that, because it couldn't possibly be him.

"Of course, Harry. That's not a problem at all, now let's get out of here; my clothes are starting to smell like goblin."

Harry tried not to show his irritation at the thoughtless words.

"Ms Chet said she would call a guard to escort us," and found himself further irritated when Lucius let out a boisterous laugh and shook him head almost in pity at Harry.

"Do you really think that the guard that brought us ever left? They can't have two dangerous vampires here without supervision," as the man spoke he wandered over to the door that led to the corridor and opened it, revealing the guard with the chained Ringer standing right behind it.

Lucius moved suddenly causing the goblin to jerk back and the Ringer to growl threateningly which in turn made Lucius laugh again.

Harry couldn't decide if the flash of anger that had the collar around his neck warm briefly against his skin was from Lucius' blasé attitude to the goblins obvious fear and distrust of them, or if he was angry at the fact that Lucius did nothing to alleviate their fear, or if Harry was angry with himself for not realising sooner that of course the goblins wouldn't trust them if this was how all typical vampires acted with them and was now feeling foolish. Maybe it was a combination of all three.

As the goblin escorted them back to the portkey room Harry felt even more certain that he had made the right decision in purchasing the other property without letting anyone know. If they thought that by him spending the past month and a half with them, after years of seeing them at their worst (even if it was a ploy,) meant that he would implicitly trust them then they were the fools. Harry was done with putting all of his trust in a person, he had been bitten too many times and now his contingency plans had contingency plans. If he kept the mentality that ultimately he could only rely on himself then he would be more likely to survive and ensure Lily's survival too. It was for the best.

When they reached the portkey room, Lucius asked the small goblin behind the desk by the door if they could have a new portkey and gave the creature the property details Harry passed across to him. The goblin withdrew a simple Gringotts card from a placeholder on the desk and completed the spell while staring hard at the photograph of the front of the cottage.

"It's set to go off in sixty seconds, sirs," he squeaked as he passed it over. Lucius simply took it and marched to the empty centre of the room but Harry took the time to quickly thank the goblin, who looked so shocked that a stiff breeze could have blown him over.

"You really don't have to go that far with them, Harry," Lucius said dryly as Harry joined him in gripping the card. "You'll give them too many ideas. If they expect thanks every time they do their job then nothing would ever get done."

"There's nothing wrong with showing appreciation for someone doing their job well," Harry all but ground out, staring fixedly at the far wall. Lucius gave him a slightly baffled look as the portkey tugged them away.

Harry had to remind himself that from what he had observed over the summer, the way the Malfoy's and the wizarding population in general treated other magical creatures wasn't out of spite, but rather a societal mentality formed from tradition that none of them thought about or questioned; it was just the way things were. It put Harry in mind of the racial segregation of the early and mid-20th Century that he had studied at primary school. While the lessons there had been simplistic they had stuck with him as he felt he could empathises at least a little with what he suffered from the Dursley's. He genuinely wouldn't be surprised if goblins and other magical creatures were expected to do things like going to a different bathroom to the human witches and wizards. Just thinking of it made Harry feel sick.

The uneven ground met Harry's feet but he barely swayed as he took in the tiny cottage in front of him, then looked around at the stunning view on either side: the granite cottage with a slate roof dotted with moss was built near the peak of a grassy hill, which sheltered it from the worst of the wind, and overlooked a gorse strewn valley with a wide, shallow river cutting through the base of it. Beyond that was only the moorland; mostly bleak, with drab greens and browns and the odd wind-swept tree, but occasionally there was bursts of colour where the gorse was blooming in bright yellows and lilacs. The hills stretched away, dipping and diving into each other before levelling out onto a wide stretch where there was the faint line of a road. Other than that there were no other signs of civilisation in sight.

As Harry and Lucius walked over the moss and grass and stone to get to the door, Harry reflected a little further.

Really, things like the socially engrained racism were the biggest problem with the wizarding world, mainly because it wasn't advancing away from it. It had cut itself off so completely from the muggles that it was unaware that they were leaving them behind. It was stagnating and refusing to listen to the wisdom the muggleborns like Hermione brought in by judging her based on something as outdated and, frankly, ridiculous as her blood. Looking back he'd even seen proof of that narrow-minded mentality in 'good' pureblood wizarding families like the Weasley's. It frustrated Harry to no end, but it was such a huge thing to address that he had no idea what he could do to help change it. Times like this were when he missed Hermione the most.

The vampires didn't seem much different, except that they simply included wizards and muggles alike in their own narrow-minded mentality: they were food first, so they could never be equal to or better than them. Harry had actually considered several times when he was witness to their more prejudice moments that the only reason why they all liked and doted on Lily was because they were all convinced that Harry would automatically offer her the bite when she was older, and of course she'd say yes, so they were already considering her 'one of them'.

It was because of this mentality that the incident after lunch had happened; something not done out of cruelty, just thoughtlessness and replicating observed behaviour. He should have known better and nipped it in the bud the second he'd first had his misgivings about it, so this was a lesson for him as well.

The inside of the cottage was all one room, besides a very small bathroom, and was already fitted out with dusty, mismatched but perfectly serviceable furniture. Lucius though looked rather horrified.

"Maybe you could sleep here if you come out in the evening to check on my mail," Harry couldn't help but tease and Lucius started to vehemently protest until he caught the smirk on Harry's face.

"Oh, bog off you cheeky brat," Lucius said wryly as he inspected the wobbly, tiny kitchen table.

"Such language," Harry drolly shot back as he checked the empty drawers of the dresser. "I'm telling Narcissa."

"Try it and I'll trounce you."

Harry gave a light chuckle as he closed the bottom drawer and pushed himself up. "Well now I'm telling her that you bullied me as well."

Lucius left a long trail through the dust as he ran his finger along the mantle over the small wood burner, before wrinkling his nose as he tried to remove the dirt from his skin. "There's no way she'll believe that."

Harry poked his head into the bathroom; no more than a toilet with a sink crammed in almost on top of it and a shower stuck haphazardly on the wall with nothing to partition it off from the rest of the bathroom. Harry absently wondered how easy it would be to clear up after using it before noting that the floor and walls were completely lined with drab beige tiles and that there was a small drain in the corner. "Really?" he called over his shoulder. "Not even if I look all pathetic when I say it?"

Harry pulled back into the main room and turned, demonstrating said expression and Lucius gritted his teeth at the show.

"You and your bloody big eyes."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Lucius laughed, face warm and open. When he had calmed he gestured to the floor in the centre of the small room, "here should be good, Harry. Did you remember the spell?"

Harry pulled the folded piece of paper from his pocket and opened it up, Lucius stepping forward to read it over his shoulder but being careful not to touch him.

"Okay, the pentagram looks simple enough. Just need to ensure I remember that it's the Higgs Sequence, not Metic's Algorithm."

Harry found himself nodding automatically, although he had no idea what Lucius was talking about, and decided he would ask Draco later.

Lucius moved back into the middle of the room again, took out his wand, and started to use the tip to draw softly glowing lines onto the wood. It quickly shaped into a large double circle, with a five pointed star in the middle, with runes (some of which Harry recognised) and strange shapes (none of which Harry recognised) in and around it.

"It was Higgs right?" Lucius called without taking his eyes off what he was doing.

"Ah, yes. Higgs not Metic you said," Harry answered, quite fascinated with this branch of magic he'd never studied at school. Lucius seemed to pick up on his incomprehension anyway and glanced up at him for a second with a smile.

"That sort of stuff is part of Arithmancy, which you'll be studying this year since Kurai signed you up for it."

Harry had a vague memory once their big plan ('Hiding Harry' as Abunai called it,) had first been put into action, of him and Kurai having a brief conversation over school subjects. Harry had stated implicitly that he wanted to continue with Defence, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions, but that other than that he didn't really know. Kurai had asked if he could sign Harry up for the courses he felt would be of most use to him and Harry had agreed and then put the conversation from his mind. Narcissa had then taken it upon herself to handle getting his school books when the requirement list had arrived, so he didn't actually have any idea what most of his subjects would be, and it had seemed so unimportant in the grand scheme of things that he'd kept forgetting to find out.

It took a while longer for Lucius to finish the pentagram, during which he was very careful not to step inside of it. When he stood back, Harry knew it was his turn and he stepped into the circle, being careful not to land on any of the marks. Once in the middle, Harry turned and grasped the small ceremonial knife Lucius offered him, then he pushed the tip into his finger. Blood quickly welled and Harry dug the blade a little deeper so it gathered enough to form several drops, but also because the sharp pain the cut caused ran up his arm and into his head, clearing it as though he'd just dived into a pool of frigid water.

"Effundo Destino Harry James Potter," he intoned. The pentagram shone briefly and the drops of blood were absorbed into the wood, leaving no sign that they had fallen there.

The crisp clarity in Harry's head started to fade back into his usual apathetic exhaustion and Harry wanted to grab it, clutch it close to ensure it stayed.

Lucius clapped him hands together causing Harry to jump a little and wrenching him from his thoughts.

"Right, that should have done it. Let's get this cleared up and then we can head back."

All it really took was a wave of Lucius' hand to remove the pentagram and then they were shutting the door behind them.

Harry wasn't anywhere near as eager as Lucius to get back to the manor, unsure of what sort of welcome would be meeting him, and so he hesitated when Lucius held out the portkey to him expectantly.

Lucius held it out for a little longer before sighing and lowering his arm.

"Harry, these things happen. Even though it might feel pretty damn awful I promise you in a day or so at most it will be forgotten. Being a parent is not the same as being a friend; sometimes you have to be the 'bad guy' for their own sake," Lucius looked as though he was going to clap Harry on the shoulder in companionship, but then thought better of it. Harry was grateful because he couldn't stop the flare of frustration that made him want to snap at Lucius that a huge part of what had happened was his and his families fault. But Lucius only knew about the aftermath, not the cause of the situation.

"Come on," Lucius continued as Harry breathed through his anger. "I bet you Narcissa or Draco have been hovering outside her door and have her calmed down by now. Well, maybe not Draco, but he might have given her another direction for her temper."

Harry couldn't help snorting at the thought and honestly wouldn't be surprised to return to Draco and Lily refusing to talk to each other. At that his thoughts sobered – just like she was likely to do with him when he saw her.

"Alright, let's head back," he begrudgingly said and Lucius held out the portkey again.

No sooner had they arrived back in the portkey/floo room then Draco was pushing the door open.

"Aren't you supposed to be in your lesson?" Lucius asked sternly and his son sent him a disarming smile as he sidled up to Harry and looped an arm around his shoulder.

"Mother says that since it's our last proper day that the lessons are cancelled."

"Really?" Harry asked, a little hopefully. The idea of having nothing to do for the remainder of the day appealed to him greatly. The irony wasn't lost on him that he was partially looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts so he'd have less work, not more.

Draco sent him a devious grin.

"That's right," he all but crowed and Lucius looked on in fond exasperation.

"Very well, just try not to get into too much mischief. We need you both in one piece for tomorrow."

"I make no promises!" Draco called to his father's retreating back and once they were alone he turned excitedly to Harry.

"So? How was it? Did everything happen like I told you it would?"

Harry gently disentangled himself from Draco and started to head for his quarters, Draco matching him step for step.

"Yes, pretty much exactly as you said. Thanks for all the info by the way; I never would have thought of it if you hadn't told me about the mortgage system used here. In the muggle world banks can seize houses, but they usually put them straight up for general auction. I never considered that they'd essentially be running an estate agency out of Gringotts."

Draco snickered. "Well, I'm sure there are many more things that I can teach you."

Harry sent him a small smile and Draco positively beamed back.

"On a more serious note," Harry continued as they made their way up the stairs and down a landing lined with windows, showing the trees and grey sky outside. "How's your mother doing? I was glad she felt up to joining us at lunch, but did she go back to bed?"

Draco's expression turned grave and his solemnity made him look more the man he was becoming, rather than the cheerful teen he had been moments before.

"Yes, she did for a short while and then moved to her study where she's been since. She still won't tell me what it was that happened."

They were both silent for a moment, no doubt remembering the event two nights prior that had had them tearing from their rooms, convinced they were being attacked: Narcissa's screaming had been so loud and so dreadful she had woken every soul in the house besides Lily, who hadn't been sleeping well and her exhaustion had let her snooze obliviously through it all.

When they had reached Narcissa and Lucius' opulent bedroom it was to find her in a state of magical turmoil – her eyes pure white from edge to edge and hair and clothes flying about in a wind created by her own power as she floated several feet above the bed. Lucius was hysterical as his attempts to break her from whatever it was continued to fail and Kurai had to drag him from the room when he started throwing himself towards the wall of magic keeping him from his wife. Abunai could only say that she was deep in a Seer's trance and that she would come out of it in her own time, but the fact that she, as a Tuner, wasn't meant to have episodes like this as well as her continued screaming deeply worried him.

Draco had been horrified to see his mother in such a state and while he didn't start acting irrationally like his father he paced around the edges of the room like a hungry wolf, never taking his eyes of the writhing form of his mother for a second.

Harry had felt utterly helpless as Abunai had specifically given him instructions for him to go no nearer Narcissa: "your powers are such that we don't know the effect they might have on her magic. It could end up making it much worse," Abunai had explained as he monitored Narcissa closely, so Harry remained in the furthest corner from her. He had offered to leave entirely, but Draco had barked a sharp "no!" at him, and the blonds face had twisted in such fear that Harry had immediately agreed which had seemed to sooth Draco somewhat.

No one could really say how long Narcissa had remained like that; hanging eerily in the air, blank eyes wide with tears streaming down her face. The only movement outside of what the wind pulled was her mouth as she screamed and screamed and screamed in a continued, echoing note that could only have been maintained through magic.

It might have been less than fifteen minutes, or it might have been almost an hour, but suddenly her mouth snapped shut, cutting off the scream and leaving a heavy silence as the magic vanished and she dropped to the bed with all the grace of a rock. Draco was beside her and turning her over in an instant as Abunai went over her vitals. Harry hovered at the foot of the bed feeling like he was in the way; all he could do was take in the scene around him, depicted almost like a Renaissance painting: Narcissa was sprawled dramatically, yet elegantly across the bed (which dominated the room and could have easily fit five people), while Abunai, with a knee on the bed, rested one hand gently on her hair as he continued to work. Draco was sitting on the opposite side, her hand clasped in both of his as he stared unwaveringly at her still face. The room itself was lit only by the light of the moon from the open French windows, bringing in a light breeze as well which stirred the light curtains around the bed.

Harry's feelings of uselessness were negated when Narcissa opened her eyes, thankfully back to normal, and had started babbling about how events had been put in motion and that there was no way out now. Then she had started to cry and it had been deeply unsettling to witness as Harry realised that he had built her up to be this indomitable figure in his mind.

She had been inconsolable. Nothing that either Abunai or Draco did could sooth her, but after a while she started calling for Lucius between her sobs and he appeared so quickly he must have been hovering right outside of the door and enfolded her in his arms. Harry and the others speedily left, knowing that there was nothing more they could do (not that Harry had done anything in the first place.)

In the sitting room outside they had found Kurai waiting. As the clock struck four on the mantle they knew there was no point in going back to bed, as this was the time they usually got up anyway, so they settled onto the luxurious sofas to go over their thoughts on what had just happened and so they could be near in case Narcissa needed any of them again.

Abunai had come up with the most reasonable explanation: that she had had a vision of the future. When questioned on why she had reacted so differently from Seers in the past and why she hadn't made a prophecy, Abunai reminded them that she wasn't a Seer but a Tuner. She shouldn't have been able to experience anything like that with the extent of her power and the fact that she did implied it must have been something very important; something had happened that night that would act as a catalyst and ensure that the future she had just viewed would come to pass.

Harry had left after a while to check on the still quietly sleeping Lily and tasked the drowsy Griffin to remain with her until she woke. The bird was more than happy to switch forms and curl up as a cat on her bed.

Even after Narcissa had fully calmed and was back to her old self she remained obdurately silent on whatever she had seen, although she kept on drifting off in the middle of a conversation with a terribly bleak look on her face.

And now, walking down the corridor after an exhausting morning and dreading what was still to come, Harry was trying to find the right words to put Draco at ease.

"I'm sure we'll find out when the time is right," was all Harry could bring himself to say and the worry creasing Draco's brow relaxed somewhat before he quirked the ghost of a smile at Harry, who found himself suddenly feeling a little awkward and dropping his eyes away from the other teen.

"It's nice to see your face again."

Draco's sudden change of topic made Harry jerk his head up from staring at the carpet as they slowly drifted to a stop by his rooms.

"Huh?" was all he could bring himself to say and then watched in fascination as two spots of red blossomed on Draco's sharp cheekbones.

"Ah, no, I didn't mean it like that. I simply meant that it's good to see your real face again. Not that there's anything wrong with the other face! But, it's just, y'know, not… you."

Harry was speechless. He didn't think he'd ever seen the usually verbose and debonair Draco Malfoy so flustered. The blond was practically squirming in place and his blush intensified. It seemed to be too much for Draco and he stammered out a quick excuse and vanished into his own rooms as though the devil himself were on his tail, leaving Harry quite stunned and alone in the corridor.

Well, he had not expected anything like that. While Draco had been decidedly more childish and free than he had ever seen before this summer, he had always still had that Malfoy poise that Harry had hated him for at school. Harry had never even conceived the thought that he might one day witness it shatter and over such a small thing.

"Fascinating," he murmured before shaking the conversation from his shoulders and turning to more serious matters: namely Lily, who he could hear moving around in their sitting room beyond the door before him. Griffin was with her and Draco had passingly mentioned during their meander up to their rooms that he was the only one she was letting near her, not that he or his mother had broken their earlier promise to Harry to try to visit Lily. Apparently though she wasn't letting the house elf assigned to their rooms in either, which Harry wasn't sure what to feel about.

He could practically feel the misery still rolling off her; could smell the faint scent of salt, indicating that she'd cried again recently, and could hear that she was colouring with angry motions from the scraping of the pencils and the crinkling and tearing of paper, combined with the odd sniff. He wanted to go to her and wrap her up in his arms, but he was the cause of her sorrow and if she was still this upset it would likely only set her off again if he approached her right then.

He suddenly had that itchy, dirty sensation beneath his skin again; something he hadn't experienced for a while, and felt as though if he were to touch her (if she let him near her) that he'd leave oily-black hand prints on her skin and clothes, and then she'd see how filthy he was.

Wrapping his arms around himself so he wouldn't touch anything he turned and quickly strode away, the only thought to get away from Lily before he tainted her any further. Call him a coward and he wouldn't deny it.

Unconsciously his feet led him to his favourite place in the manor and before he was even aware of his surroundings his body was folding itself down onto the plush sofa that was hidden behind the bookcases in the library. Even though Draco had joined him there a couple of times and the other adults, given their supernatural senses, no doubt knew he went there frequently, it was a little corner of the massive house that he almost considered 'his' and safe. Whenever he was stressed, or couldn't sleep, or just wanted to be alone, he often found himself drifting there; sometimes to curl up with a book, other times just to watch the dust motes in the sun beams through the window on the opposite wall to the bookcases while he let his thoughts drift. It was always peaceful and he always felt a little better after staying there for a while.

The sun wasn't strong enough for him to watch the dust motes today but he found he had no inclination to get up and find a book so he remained where he was, moving only to slip off his shoes and socks before curling his legs up on the sofa cushions. His bare feet scraped lightly over the material and Harry was almost surprised that they didn't leave dark streaks of foul ooze.

He always felt like a fool whenever he realised that he'd forgotten for a while just how vile and broken he was, making it all the more nauseating when it came rushing back as if to say 'you didn't actually think you could get away from what you are? Did you? Aw, look at the pathetic little freak tricking himself into believing that he has any right to something like happiness.'

A sick, wretched anger grew inside him before the collar around his neck grew hot and then it started to fade as his other half ate it up with relish.

In hindsight he should have seen the incident that had taken place earlier that day coming. All the signs had been there, but he'd just been too damn stupid to see it:

Over their last week in the Malfoy's home, Lily had become more and more nervous. She knew she was going to Hogwarts with Harry but she had adjusted to life at the manor and felt safe there. Unable to properly explain her stress and worries it exited her through the form of nightmares, leaving her tearful, irritable and exhausted through the days. The worst of her nightmares seemed to coincide with the few hours Harry usually slept and so he had been reduced to quick cat-naps whenever and wherever he could take them.

It was hardly restful: he would jerk awake at the slightest sound, consumed by an old fear at the thought of someone finding him sleeping and the vulnerability surrounding it. Even before everything that had happened that summer it had been an anxiety of his. His first night at Hogwarts he had found a way to tie his curtains to the bedpost so no one could pull them open from outside and sometime after he had found a spell that replicated that which he had used ever since.

So, even though he needed far less sleep than humans it was still taking its toll and Harry was shattered.

That had given way to the eerie discovery that the spell that disguised them both did not show their exhaustion. It was an unsettling thing to look into a mirror, bone weary and sick from worry, only to see a healthy face staring back. Kurai had looked into the spell further and had confirmed that while the spell would show injuries it would not show ill-health. It was something Harry had not considered before but now he knew he could see the drawbacks.

Lily, in her exhaustion had started to despise her and Harry's fake faces and partway through the week they had to remove the spell due to the stress it was causing her. Draco, Narcissa, and Abunai had exclaimed in horror at the state of the both of them when the spells were removed. Harry himself had been deeply concerned over just how exhausted Lily looked and had immediately put her to bed with a dreamless sleep tonic. He'd hoped it would give her a few blessedly peaceful hours to regain some much-needed rest. Then he'd dared to go into the bathroom to check himself over; it had been a depressing moment to see that harrowed and drawn face looking back at him again.

Even though the dreamless sleep tonic had helped a little it was something that couldn't be given to young children very often and so it had been back to the same exhausting routine the next night.

Lily had been furious when she'd been told she couldn't have any more of it for a while and had thrown an almighty tantrum that had carried into the current day. Harry had never seen a six year old wake up angry before and he had no wish to repeat the experience. It had been rather a relief to go to his Tae Kwon Do practice, Lily's last session being that afternoon.

When he'd returned for lunch before going to the bank he had found that Lily was still in a foul mood. She snapped at everyone around her and continued to pick at her food long after everyone else had finished and left, all busy with plans for the next day. Harry, knowing from Severus' very thorough teachings the importance of eating a well-balanced meal at her age had told her that she wasn't allowed to leave the table until she'd eaten the rest of her vegetables. Lily's mood had promptly turned from sullen defiance into spitting anger.

She'd thrown her glass, which had smashed on the hardwood floor, and when a house elf with absurdly large ears had scurried into the room and made to clean it up Lily had, to Harry's absolute horror, jumped down from her seat with her plate in her hand and smashed it over the elf's head, sending the poor creature sprawling; deep cuts from the crockery starting to ooze blood over his bald scalp.

"It's your fault you stupid thing!" Lily had screeched at the house elf, hitting him with her small fists as he had struggled to pull himself up while bowing and offering apology after apology. "You gave me too many vegetable so it's your fault! You should just go die!"

"Of course! Of course, mistress! Dunch will go and do that right away!"

The house elf's words had jolted Harry out of his horrified daze and he'd knocked his chair over as he leapt to his feet.

"Lily!" he'd roared and he couldn't say whether it was his magic or because of what he now was but underneath the word was an inhuman growl that shook the entire room. Lily and the house elf froze.

Anger had sparked through Harry, igniting his blood and winding his muscles to shaking point. There was a terrible thundering in his mind, overtaking everything else for that moment except for the rage.

While he was angry at Lily for what she had so thoughtlessly just done, the anger burned much brighter towards the Malfoy's, Abunai, Kurai, and Snape; who's continued throwaway comments and blasé actions over the summer had subtly told Lily over and over again that anything that didn't fit into their narrow ideal of what was right was somehow less than them.

Harry couldn't say much for what she'd been taught at the orphanage, but he wouldn't be surprised to find that it had enforced the same prejudice towards all those not witches or wizards.

He had stared at the cowering duo, panting hard as he tried to regain control of himself over the white hot desire for destruction filling him.

Lily had collapsed almost completely to the floor and was covering her head with her hands, too fearful to look up while the house elf had remained in the half sprawl it had been slumped in, blood oozing thickly from the cuts and eyes wide and fixed on Harry as it shivered in terror.

The house elf, Dunch, was what this was all about and Harry was incensed as to why none of the others could see how unacceptable it was that they were treated so abominably. It was abuse, plain and simple, and it was utterly ignored. No, rather it was expected. Yet Harry had spent most of his life in the equivalent of a house elf's shoes; how was he not supposed to get so upset over seeing such a casual injustice take place day after day when he knew exactly what it felt like.

A strange smell had started to fill the room and it finally raised in strength enough to get Harry's attention even in his rage. It smelled like cooking meat but they had had a cold lunch.

Then there had been a slight hiss from just below Harry's chin and he realised that the smell was coming from him: the collar was so hot it was literally cooking the skin around his throat.

In a panic, Harry had looked down at his clenched hands and forced them open. Blood and the deep cuts his growing claws had made, made themselves known. He must have been ridiculously high on adrenalin for him not to have felt his self-inflicted wounds.

He had to calm down or his other half… it didn't bare thinking about.

Instead Harry had tried to focus on what Abunai had been teaching him in the healing arts. So far he'd found it one of the more difficult things to get his head around and although he had perfected the art of giving other magic users who were trying to heal and/or flagging because their powers weren't enough a boost, he still struggled with even the most basic wandless healing spells. But he had managed a few, one of which would be perfect for the deep-but-superficial cuts on Dunch, the house elf's, head.

As he had poured more of his focus into the spell the anger started to come back under his control and then fade, feeding into his other half and leaving him to finally feel the effects of his injuries. His palms stung horribly and were starting to throb, but he could already feel his advanced healing start to take effect. The burn around his throat was worse though; of all the far-too-numerous injuries Harry had experienced in his short life being burnt was by far the worst type for him; there was just no getting away from the heat of it. Even though a tentative touch suggested to him that it was probably no worse than a sunburn it still rankled on him in a way the strangely clean pain of the cuts didn't. It too, however, was starting to heal, so he pushed the discomfort from his mind and raised his hand toward Dunch who immediately tried to scrabble away while sobbing; fruitlessly trying to stem the blood running from his head onto the floor, trying to clean the floor at the same time, and squeaking his apologies for merely being alive. Needless to say he wasn't getting very far. It sickened Harry to his stomach that the elf felt he had to react in such a way.

Dunch had fallen still and silent though when Harry had waved his hand and wrapped his tongue around the uncomfortable Latin phrase he needed and the cuts had knitted themselves back together again; the only sign of there ever having been an injury being the blood left streaked on Dunch's skin and pillow case, as well as a few spots on the hardwood floor.

The house elf had stared at Harry as though Harry had just announced he was packing in the whole magic malarkey and was moving to Amsterdam, where he would spend the rest of his life busking on the streets with instruments he made out of rubbish.

"Dunch, how are you feeling?" Harry had asked carefully, trying not to spook the already fragile creature further.

"Dunch… is feeling… better… Master. Thank you," Dunch had croaked out, now staring at Harry as though he had been given all the answers to the universe. Harry tried not to shift uncomfortably because if there was one thing he didn't want any more of it was hero worship.

A distant sound had caught his attention then.

"The others are coming," Harry had glanced around, waved his hand and vanished the blood stains on the floor, then turned back to Dunch. "It might be for the best if you head back to the kitchen. Come and find me later if you're having any more health problems due to Lily's thoughtless actions. I will have her write you a letter of apology and I can't apologise enough either," here he had turned sharp eyes back onto Lily, who had looked as though she had been about to protest and shivered back into herself under his gaze.

"Master does not need to apologise," the house elf had said weakly as he clambered to his feet.

"Yes, I do. I'm so sorry, Dunch. Obviously I have failed as a parent for Lily to have thought in any way that this was acceptable behaviour. After Lily has been suitably punished I can promise you she will never do such a thing again."

Dunch had looked rather frantic at that and wrung his hands together while exclaiming, "Master, please do not hurt the little Mistress! Punishment is a bad, painful thing for wicked little elves like me, not wizards and witches. Dunch is not worth a hair on the little Mistresses head being harmed!"

Harry had been appalled.

"Dunch, I'm not going to hurt her. By punishment I mean something like taking some of her toys away, or grounding her after we get to Hogwarts. I haven't decided yet but it'll be something like that. I need you to know that I would be the last person to ever inflict something like physical pain on my daughter as a form of punishment."

Dunch had looked so relieved Harry had been worried for a second that the little house elf was going to just keel over, then the sounds of approach came again from much closer.

"Go!" Harry had hissed, knowing that if Dunch was still there when the Malfoy's came in and heard the story that the house elf would likely be blamed.

Dunch had given a quick nod, stared at Harry one last time and then vanished just as the dining room door was swinging open.

Lucius and Draco had entered; the former looking around worriedly and the latter making a beeline straight for Harry.

"Is everything alright?" Lucius had asked as he searched around the room. "Narcissa and I felt your emotions all the way from our room."

"And I did from mine," Draco had looked worried as he nearer Harry. "I'm sorry I took so long. I was so frustrated with my packing that I didn't realise what I was feeling was from you rather than me."

He'd reached out and tried to grasp both of Harry's hands in his, but Harry had remembered at the last second that his hands were still smeared with blood and had tucked them behind his back so he could unobtrusively clean them, ignoring Draco's hurt look.

"I'm fine," he'd reassured. "There was an incident with Lily hurting one of the house elves."

"Well, I guess that explains the smell of blood," Lucius had muttered. "Is Lily okay?"

"Lily is fine," Harry had motioned to where Lily was still sitting on the floor. "Aren't you, young lady? Up you get, you have an apology letter to write."

"An apology letter?" Draco had asked, his hurt giving way to curiosity. "Whatever for?"

Harry had tried not to frown but his displeasure must have shown a little because Draco had taken a slight step back.

"I just said; Lily hurt one of the house elves. She's going to write him an apology letter and then she'll be punished."

"But it's just a house elf. Why does she need to do any of that? They like serving us," Draco had protested, utterly bemused.

"Serving maybe. Being hurt for no good reason, absolutely not. I will not have Lily growing up thinking that it's acceptable to harm another living, breathing creature just because she's angry, or annoyed, or bored."

Much to Harry's growing irritation, Lucius and Draco had exchanged a wry glance.

"Harry, that's how house elves like to be treated. If we don't punish them when they've done something wrong then they just go and punish themselves. Anyway, it's a bit hypocritical you saying that," Lucius had gently ribbed him.

They had completely missed the point and Harry could feel the collar warningly growing warmer around his neck again as he tried to ignore the hazy flashes of blood-streaked alley walls and distant screams that danced almost gleefully across his memory.

"When did I say anything about the house elf doing anything that deserved punishment? Lily was the one in the wrong. And I'm not like this because I want to be and I'm damn well doing everything I can not to hurt anyone again because of it."

He'd been able to almost physically see his point sail over their heads, but he didn't exactly expect to undo years of conditioning with a few angry words.

Instead he'd sighed and turned his attention back to Lily who was on her feet but sharing shamefacedly down at the ground, angry tears making their way down her cheeks.

"Lily, you are to go to our rooms for the rest of the day and you are not allowed to leave them until I say. You will not be attending your final lesson with Ardra and Brann, meaning you won't be able to say goodbye to them. I want you to think long and hard over what you did and to try to write out your letter of apology on why you think what you did was wrong. I will read it when I get back from the bank then we will have a talk and I will decide on your punishment. Do you understand?"

Lily had mumbled something at the floor and even with Harry's preternatural hearing he couldn't make sense of what she'd said.

"What did you say?" he'd asked sternly and she thrown him a petulant look before repeating herself mulishly.

"I understand."

Harry had given a nod and folded his arms.

"Good. Now go to you room, young lady. Don't dawdle."

Lily had glanced up at Harry one last time but had met with no sympathy. He had been able to visibly see the moment she'd genuinely realised she'd done something wrong and that she'd really upset him. Sorrowful tears had quickly followed and she was wailing by the time she'd reached the door and disappeared into the hallway beyond.

Harry's heart had ached and he'd longed to go to her but he couldn't. He had to remain firm in instances like this otherwise she'd end up just as spoiled as Draco.

"Wasn't that a little too much?" Draco had asked cautiously, finally comprehending how angry Harry really was.

"No, it wasn't," Harry had responded firmly. "Draco, neither you nor any of the others are to go and see her or to take her out of her room. Do you understand?"

Draco had raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, she's your kid. I understand. Besides, Kurai and Abunai have had to go back to the city for the afternoon, mother's in no fit state to be doing much of anything and you won't have to worry about me bothering her; I've got too much to be taking care of in my rooms."

Harry had regarded him with some suspicion but he had learned most of Draco's ticks that indicated he was lying over the summer and he couldn't see any just then.

"Good," Harry had said, still not sure. "This is important to me, Draco. Don't fuck this up."

Draco had started to protest but Harry had turned to Lucius.

"Shouldn't we be heading off now?"

Lucius had blinked down at him in some surprise before coming to his senses and slipping out a handsome pocket watch, opening it with a slight flourish.

"Ah, yes. If you have everything you need then let's go."

And that had been that.

Now though Harry was curled up miserably on the sofa, trying to work out if he'd done the right thing. It wasn't as if he had many good role models to look back on.

It was starting to get late; he couldn't actually believe how much time had slipped past while he had been hiding away in his misery. Lily's dinner time was fast approaching but he didn't think it was a good idea for her to join the others for her meal since they would probably dismiss what she did as unproblematic, so it was best if they ate in their rooms unbothered by the others.

Mind made up and knowing he couldn't put it off any longer, Harry rolled off the sofa to head down to the kitchen to get their meal. Maybe he'd have some sort of instant-fix idea along the way.

The massive kitchen was towards the rear of the manor in the 'servants' section and Harry had been there only once before when he'd asked a very bemused Draco to show him.

There was a sudden hush when he stepped through the doorway and he found himself the focus of dozens of stares, making him want to shrink back into himself.

Instead he tried to appear relaxed as he wandered over to the nearest house elf, who was holding a bowl almost as big as she was.

"Excuse me," Harry began, smiling politely. "Would it be possible for me to get mine and Lily's dinner? Lily's currently not allowed to leave her room and I'm going to be sending her to bed early, so I was hoping we could eat in our rooms with just each other instead of eating with the others later in the dining room. Is that okay?"

The only sound in the room was the pops and snaps from the fire in the huge fireplace that took up almost the entirety of one wall as all of the house elves stood in frozen silence, gaping at him. Harry could already feel the sweat starting to build down his back and wondered how they could stand it.

He looked around, more than a little nervous and spotted a familiar face.

"Dunch! How are you feeling?"

Dunch, who had stilled halfway through hanging some herbs to dry jumped as though he'd been electrocuted and then hurried forward.

"Dunch is doing much better, thanks to Master. Master is wishing for his and the young Mistresses dinner, yes? We is seeing to it at once."

The little elf turned and clapped his hands, jolting the others out of their stupor and sending them off in a flurry of work. Pleased, Dunch gave a satisfied nod before turning back to Harry.

"Dunch cannot thank Master enough for what he did for him. No wizard or vampire has ever helped one of us like that before."

Harry tried not to shift awkwardly.

"I don't understand why though, it was just common decency."

Dunch shook his head.

"We are considered more 'things' than living, breathing, intelligent creatures who can feel pain like they can. They forget, or they are taught not to notice, but you," he stared up at Harry, eyes unsettlingly sharp and assessing. "You see us, you hear us, you understand us."

Harry felt the tightness of panic in his chest.

"I don't think it's anything that deep, Dunch. It's simply a gross injustice that you are treated as slaves. My friend at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, has tried to form a society to prevent cruelty towards house elves, but people mainly laugh at her," he was filled with a sense of shame, remembering how he'd refused to wear her badges because of what the initials spelled. "I didn't openly support her even though I agreed with what she was doing."

Dunch was nodding though.

"We have heard of Mistress Granger; she has good heart, sharp mind, but still too raw to be able to change the minds of others. Most brush her off due to her heritage. Purebloods won't listen to her, but will listen to you."

It was Harry's turn to gape.

"Dunch," he began slowly, trying to organise his thoughts. "I don't know what you're implying, but it's taking everything I have just to stay alive right now. Your faith would be better put in Hermione."

Dunch continued to look at him in the flickering light of the kitchen with eyes that seemed to see right through him. Harry felt that he was seeing a side to the house elf, all of the house elves he realised as he glanced around him and saw all of those not working watching him in the same way, that few had seen before. It reminded him of the clarity and confidence Dobby had had just after he'd been freed and had sent Lucius tumbling with a click of his fingers.

"Mistress Granger has her own path to walk. If you are, as we are now confident of, the one from the vampire's prophecy then you is helping us regardless of whether you're intentionally trying to do so or not. You will turn the world on its head."

Harry didn't like the sound of that, but as he was about to ask about this fabled prophecy that he'd heard mentioned before yet hadn't actually been given any information on, Dunch was speaking again.

"I can tell you no more about it than that, Master. But know this; the vampires are not the only ones who have been waiting a long time for you."

Then the moment broke, the clarity and confidence vanished from Dunch's tiny frame, the silence in the kitchen gave way to the normal hubbub and there was a tray hovering in front of him with two meals on, a jug of Lily's favourite juice and Harry's customary cup of blood.

"Thanking you very much for your kindness, Master Harry," Dunch squeaked while bowing, making Harry aware of in hindsight just how much the elf's voice had dropped to a deep, slow roll when he'd been talking before. Just how much of their true selves did they keep hidden?

More than a little overwhelmed, Harry mumbled some sort of thanks, although he couldn't recall what he said exactly, and walked in a daze from the overly warm room back into the cool dark corridor.

It was only when he was halfway back to his and Lily's rooms that he realised he'd forgotten to ask one of the elves to pass on his apologies for missing the early-evening meal.

Harry had been quick to learn that since vampires drew most of their energy from their food and didn't have to sleep anywhere near as much as humans that they typically had four meals a day instead of the standard three; the fourth usually being around one in the morning.

Harry didn't know if he'd join the Malfoy's for the late-evening meal either since he had a lot of packing to take care of and felt a little frustrated over the situation since Lucius had impressed upon him how important it was to remain polite and keep your hosts aware of this kind of thing.

Even though they'd told him several times to view the manor as his home there was no way Harry could do that; everything was too opulent, too far apart for a home, and there had been times when he'd longed for the warm, close messiness of The Burrow. He was constantly afraid he was going to break something, especially with his added strength which still caught him off guard from time-to-time, and during the times when his memories clawed their way up inside him like they had done earlier and lined him with a sense of filth he couldn't bring himself to touch anything at all and would typically wind up sleeping on the rug in front of his fire.

So, Harry remained thinking of himself as a guest in the Malfoy's home because it was the easiest thing to do; which was why when he reached his rooms he set down the tray and moved a little further along the corridor to knock on the next door.

There was a clatter from inside, a curse, and then the sound of hurrying feet. The door wrenched open and a slightly dishevelled Draco was suddenly standing before Harry.

"Harry!" Draco said rather excitedly. "What's up? You want to come in?" he moved aside expectantly, gesturing to the living room where Harry could spot several stacks of books, one of which had been knocked over. "Just trying to get together the books I'll be taking with me."

Harry gave a polite smile.

"Thank you, but no. I just came to tell you that Lily and I won't be attending dinner later and I'm not sure I'll be able to make it to supper either."

Draco's face fell into a confused frown.

"What? Why not?"

"It's part of her punishment still. I don't want her sat at a table with people who will reassure her that she didn't do anything wrong. She did and she needs to understand that."

Now Draco looked insulted.

"Harry, you made it clear that you thought what she had done was wrong. We're not going to trample all over your parenting just because we don't agree with you."

"Really? Can you guarantee that? Because while I might believe you may try to do so you are all so utterly on the opposite side of this from me that I don't think you'll realise when you do say something to her. Think about it, as soon as you and your father came into the dining room earlier you started to undermine what I was saying by first thinking it was the elf's fault and that he must have done something for her to hurt him, and then calling me a hypocrite," Harry tried to take a deep breath; he had been snapping by the end of that and he didn't want to get caught up in an argument with Draco since they could last for hours and even on the occasions where Draco won he would be out of sorts for days after, as though arguing with Harry at all really upset him for some reason.

"It was just a house elf, Harry!" Draco snapped back and Harry threw up his hands in despair.

"See, that is the problem here. You don't even realise what you just said do you?"

Draco leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms and a flicker of the old Malfoy sneer that Harry had been so familiar with at school passing over his face.

"Why don't you enlighten me then, since I can't seem to say anything about the matter without pissing you off."

Harry tried not to sigh; he'd only wanted to tell Draco that they wouldn't be attending dinner, not get into an argument with him, but his feelings of outrage over the whole situation were still too raw for him to let it lie.

"How about this. Would you have said 'it was just a black person, Harry'?"

Draco jerked as though Harry had physically slapped him and pushed himself off the wood, expression bewildered.

"What? No, of course not."

"Why not? What if the whole situation had been about Lily attacking a black person instead of a house elf? Would you have reacted in the same way?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair, forehead creasing.

"What are you on about? Of course we wouldn't have reacted the same."

"Why not?" Harry pressed again.

"Because we're talking about a living, breathing person here. Judging them based on their race is wrong!" Draco exclaimed.

"So is judging someone based on their species," Harry countered softly and turned back down the corridor.

"But that's a different thing entirely," Draco called after him, leaning out of his doorway with a desperately frustrated expression on his face.

"Is it?" Harry mused as he stooped to pick up the tray. "They can still feel pain, and love, and joy, and despair. They can still read, and write, and communicate. Think on it," he finished, hoping that Draco would, as he pushed his room's door open and stepped inside; leaving a pale faced Draco out in the hall behind him.

Lily was in her usual place; kneeling on a cushion by the coffee table with all of her colouring pencils and books spread on the surface before her.

The light of the room caught on the silver bracelets she wore around each wrist that held the Malfoy and Taira Crests on them. The complexities of which finger the Crest was supposed to be worn on was covered by the patterns on either side on the bracelet, meaning a child would not have to worry with the risk of losing their ring until they transferred over to them at the age of eleven.

Unlike normal though, she jumped when Harry entered the room and then scrambled to her feet.

Griffin, who had been curled up in cat form on the sofa behind her also stretched to his feet.

"I've brought dinner," Harry said, at a loss as to how to otherwise start the conversation when Lily was staring at him with such a wretched expression.

Harry was tired; guilt was weighing heavily on him for scaring Lily earlier and how he was having to treat her now. He would have given just about anything to have everything fixed and back to normal between them if someone had offered during the day.

If anything it was this that showed him how out of his depth he was with looking after Lily and how sanity must have scampered off and left him when he'd thought what a brilliant idea it was to adopt a six year old child with PTSD, while he still considered himself a child who was struggling to come to terms with his own horrors.

He was so utterly lost. This wasn't something you could just turn around and say 'actually this is too much for me, can I give this back?' with. Lily was a kid whose greatest fear was being abandoned; there was no way he could do that to her, or would do that to her even though sometimes he thought that it might be the best thing for her in the long run.

This fight with Lily had brought all of those ugly truths swimming back to the surface and all Harry wanted to do was go and curl up on his bed, have a good cry, and then just ignore the responsibilities and demands of the world for a month.

When he'd got up that morning, Harry had already had enough on his plate: Voldemort, Dumbledore, returning to Hogwarts under a disguise that was far from fool-proof, and the ever-increasing pile of letters he was receiving from Ron and Hermione with 'Do Not Return' emblazoned across the back of each envelope that were all stuffed, unopened, into a letter holder on his writing desk. Then there was the fact that even though it had only been a few months he had actually forgotten about Sirius' death and all of the guilt that brought with it. Or how Harry, for the first time, didn't actually want to return to Hogwarts because it felt like it would take away the temporary peace he'd found, and there was no forgetting the unending fear that at any second someone would realise that he had no legal right to Lily and take her away from him. And that was just a few of his worries.

Now though he had to face up to the ugly side of parenting and the risk of making his child hate him on top of everything else and Harry didn't think he'd be able to take it if Lily hated him.

He couldn't say that to her though as he crossed the room to put the tray on the small dining table. He couldn't break down and show how vulnerable and uncertain he felt even though he wanted to as she quietly followed him and pulled out her chair.

Instead he placed her food and drink in front of her before sitting down himself and silently beginning the meal.

Griffin remained seated where he was on the sofa since he preferred to find his own food, pointedly curling up and trying to act as if the tension in the room wasn't almost palpable.

The only sound was the clink of cutlery and the clicking of the clock on the mantle.

Harry shot several sneaky glances across at Lily as they ate to find her focus on her plate, the small blunt knife and fork she used prodding and playing with her food rather than being used to eat it. Eventually, when she managed to knock half of her peas onto the table, Harry sighed and put his knife and fork down.

"Lily, please don't play with your food. You don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

"No, I'll eat it," she quietly stated while keeping her head bowed.

Slowly she heaped some of the remaining peas onto her fork and then, by gradual increments, brought it to her mouth. She chewed even slower and looked like she had to force herself to swallow, then reached for another bite. Harry decided not to push her any further on that front and picked up his knife and fork again.

"So I hear that you stayed up here like I asked. I'm pleased that you listened to me."

Lily paused for a few seconds before shrugging and continuing, moving on to her fish.

"I also heard that you didn't let Linky into the rooms either. Why did you do that?"

Lily took her time in answering, focusing on bringing her forkful of fish slowly up to her mouth then chewing and swallowing over an exaggerated length of time while Harry tried to keep his expression calm.

"I didn't want you getting mad with me again," she finally mumbled, face almost buried in her food. Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"Were you intending on hurting Linky like you did Dunch?"

She shook her head.

"Then why would I have been mad at you?"

"Because," she began wretchedly. "You got so angry earlier."

"But you hurt Dunch earlier. That was what I was angry about. You shouldn't have hurt him."

Lily finally looked up, dark eyes confused.

"But the elves don't feel pain. It doesn't hurt them."

This time Harry dropped his knife and it clattered loudly across the plate, spun, and then skittered across the table before sliding to rest.

"Who told you that, Lily?"

Lily raised her eyes from where the knife lay.

"Erm, I think my daddy or mummy?"

Sweet Merlin, this was ridiculous.

"Lily," Harry began slowly. "Did you ever think to ask any of the house elves themselves?"

Surprise darted across her face giving him all the answer he needed. He pushed his plate away unable to stomach any more food and reached for the goblet of blood instead, his mind racing.

"Why do you think you never asked one, Lily?"

Lily, apparently rocked by the option she never knew she had, barely paused in her response this time.

"Because I was told that they're stupider than me."

"And who told you that?"

"Everyone."

Harry sipped from his cup, trying to focus on the calming taste instead of on the chaos going on inside of him. He'd known that prejudice was rife in the wizarding world but to have it thrown in his face in such a blasé way from an innocent six-year-olds mouth who had no idea of the prejudice she was spilling was a grim experience.

From the way Lily had talked about them, Harry had little doubt that her deceased parents were probably good people which in some ways made it worse. It was easy to divide with a clear line between the blatant racists and bullies, whose hatred dripped from their very pours, from the 'normal' folk. It was so much harder to hear those words slip from someone you knew was a good person otherwise.

Hermione, for example, had mentioned several times over the years how much she loved her grandparents on her father's side and how kind they always were to her; but she'd also mentioned how difficult it could be when they were racist, or generally fascist, and how they would talk openly and in public about how 'the country was going to the dogs because of all of the immigrants let in'.

When she'd first become interested in politics they'd talked extensively to her about the Conservative party and a few of its more extreme branch-offs. They'd given her pamphlets and stickers and had promised to take her along to the next meeting and she'd smiled and thanked them, had quietly gone home, read the pamphlets thoroughly and then taken them out to the garden and burnt them until nothing was left but a pile of powdery ash.

For the Harry back then it had been a perplexing idea. He'd seen the world in such a black and white way that he couldn't wrap his head around the concept of loving someone but hating what they believed. To him at that time a person was either entirely good because they looked good and sounded good and did good things, like Dumbledore, and Mr and Mrs Weasley; or they were bad and looked bad and sounded bad and did bad things, like Voldemort, or Snape, or Lucius Malfoy.

How grateful he was that that naïve illusion had been shattered.

Returning to the present, Harry decided to try a new tactic since Lily seemed done with her meal.

"Did you manage to write the apology letter?"

Lily winced a little and looked away from him.

"I tried," she said and then got up from the table. She moved quickly over to the coffee table where her drawings were and pushed a few aside before scooping up several sheets of paper. She returned to Harry and held them out like offerings to an angry god.

"I promise I tried," she impressed upon him and she was starting to sound a little tearful.

Harry took the papers and found they all started the same way with 'Dear Dunch', but then afterwards they rambled off in different directions in the usual unerring honesty of a child from 'I have to say sorry to you because Harry said what I did was wrong,' to 'I don't know why I have to say sorry,' to 'you can clean my bedroom if you want to.'

Griffin had obviously helped her with the words every now and again but Harry was confident that all he would have helped her with was her spelling. Everything else came from Lily and so because of that they were way off the mark. With the numerous attempts it did show that she'd really tried though.

Honestly, the more Harry had heard about what she'd been taught the more he'd been expecting something like this so he wasn't upset or angry. If anything seeing the jumbled writing zigzag unevenly across the pages cemented what Lily's 'punishment' would be.

"Are you mad with me?" Lily quavered out, bottom lip wobbling.

Harry put the letters down on the table and then knelt down to Lily's level.

"No, pumpkin, I'm not. I can see you really did try here."

The near-tears were transformed into a radiant smile and Lily obviously thought that everything was over and done with.

"However, young lady," Harry continued, voice turning stern again and her happy expression vanished. "You still did something very bad, so I have decided on your punishment."

He stood again and crossed his arms, looking down at her severely.

"Lily Potter, your punishment will be in two parts. The first is that when we get to Hogwarts you will be having tea with my good friend Dobby, who is a house elf, three times a week. You will treat him as you would treat another witch or wizard – you will not be allowed to order him around or hurt him."

Lily was reacting to his verdict as though he'd doomed her to never colour again: face drawn and horrified, mouth open, and building up to the point where she'd be over her shock then would let it all out in a flood of tears and screaming.

"The second part of your punishment is that you will be grounded for your first month at Hogwarts. That means that when you make some friends at your school, you won't be able to go over to any of their houses for a month. You'll have to tell them that you did something wrong instead. Do you understand me, Lily?"

She understood enough if the red her cheeks were starting to turn as the first wail built up was any indication.

Harry had just enough time to clamp his hands over his sensitive ears before she let out a piercing scream. It went on and on and on, and Harry was starting to get concerned over when she would breathe before she stopped, pulling in a great, shuddering gasp of air before wailing again at the slightly more manageable level of when the screaming combined with crying.

She threw herself down on the floor, beating her tiny fists against the carpet as tears and snot started to streak her face.

Harry knew it was useless to try to calm her like this as she'd just lash out and work herself up more so he did the only thing he could do, which was to start going around the room and packing up the bits and pieces that they'd left dotted around it.

Once he'd gathered everything he took the arm load and went over to where he'd dragged the trunk Griffin and Abunai had given him out from his room and then sat in front of it, dividing the items up into his and Lily's things.

By the sounds of it, on top of the screaming Lily was starting to throw herself bodily around on the carpet.

Harry finished dividing up the items and popped the lid of the trunk, opening it to Lily's compartment and putting her colouring pencils, books, and other random assortment of toys neatly inside. Then he closed it, whispered the spell he needed under his breath and watched as the dial clicked around to the right place before opening it again on his section and dropping his books rather carelessly inside.

Lily's high pitched scream of outrage had lowered into a wail of abject misery.

"Griffin," he called over the noise. "Can you see anything I've missed?"

Griffin, still in his cat form and his ears laid flat against his head appeared next to him after a few moments.

"Nah, think you got everythin'."

"Alright then."

Harry shut the trunk back up, murmured the spell to make it revert back to its first setting. He then moved over to the dining table and cleaned everything up, stacked the things back on the tray (after draining the last of his goblet of blood) and then vanished the item back to the kitchen with a word of thanks. The table now clean and the room cleared of things he headed into Lily's room.

Lily, who had been starting to get a little possessive of her room and usually put up a bit of a fuss if he went in there without her remained oblivious behind him; still screaming and wailing her unhappiness to the world.

Most of her stuff had already been packed up but there were still a few things to gather beyond what she'd need for bed and the next day.

Narcissa had mentioned in passing a few weeks ago that it was fine if Harry left some of his and Lily's things at the manor as they'd be returning for Christmas, and to consider the rooms they were staying in 'theirs'. Harry had politely said that he'd think about it when in reality he did anything but.

He preferred the idea of having all of their stuff with them in case, for whatever reason, they had to run from something. Which was more than likely to happen at some point.

The trunk itself was almost indestructible, theft-proof, could be shrunk down to fit in his pocket, and was keyed in to his magical signature so he'd always be able to find it. To Harry it was a much more sensible option than dangerously leaving revealing things about themselves all over the place. Call him paranoid but he was sticking to it.

When he came out of Lily's room again with the last of her items, the girl in question was finally wearing herself out and her wails had softened to sobs.

Harry gave her a bit longer to vent as he packed her things away before heading back over to where she was lying with her face buried in the carpet; quiet now apart from the occasional sniff.

He crouched down next to her and carefully put a hand on her back. She gave no indication to having noticed it.

"I know it sucks, Lily, but because it sucks you'll remember. Also, I think you'll really like Dobby. He's a really fun guy."

Lily turned her face enough so one eye peeked out from under her hair which Harry pushed back.

"Come on, you're exhausted and we've got a busy day tomorrow. Let's get you into bed."

Silently, Lily let Harry pull her to her feet and then direct her to the bathroom where she washed up and brushed her teeth. She was almost falling asleep on her feet by the time she was done and Harry was guiding her back to her bedroom, and so Harry helped her change into her favourite choice of pyjamas for the moment which was a worn old quidditch t-shirt that had apparently been Draco's when he was her age and a cotton pair of shorts.

Once finished Harry guided her to her bed where she climbed under the covers with her eyes already almost closed.

She wordlessly took the Dreamless Sleep potion Harry offered her (partially as a peace offering, he was that desperate, and partially because he felt she deserved a good night's sleep for her last night in the manor,) swallowed it and handed it back.

Usually at that point, no matter how sleepy she was, if she was still conscious she would demand a hug and a kiss to try to keep the bad dreams away. Try being the operative word. However, for the first time she rolled away from Harry in a clear dismissal and Harry paused only long enough to set up her nightlight before withdrawing while feeling as though someone had plunged their hand into his chest and squeezed.

Griffin was waiting for him outside as Harry gently shut the door.

"Lily tol' me what 'appened earlier. An ugly business all round, 'specially since she couldn't work out why you was so mad at 'er. I 'ad to bite my tongue so many times. You did the right thing though."

Harry slumped down on the sofa and finally curled in on himself as he'd been wanting to from the moment he'd stepped into the room.

"Did I though? All I seemed to get out of it was misery. I've pissed everyone off and my point has gone completely over their heads. Merlin, I almost had a flat-out fight about it with Draco in the hall earlier."

Griffin jumped up beside him and snuggled into his side, offering as much comfort as possible, and Harry, unperturbed by the touch of his familiar, gratefully received it.

"What? You think that showin' someone that what they've been doin' their whole lives is actually unacceptable would be easy? Like they'd jus' tip their hat at you an' thank you fer opening their eyes. Newsflash, Harry; people hate being told they're wrong, the Malfoy's most of all I suspect."

Harry could see what Griffin was trying to tell him but the weight of the day was just too much for him to really accept any of it yet. Instead all he felt was that he might have made a terrible mistake and he voiced that fear. Griffin snorted.

"I think the only mistake is that you didn't do this sooner. Harry, the Malfoy's aren't dumb an' nor is Lily. For our girl she'll take a little while ta calm down but then she'll be right as rain. She's just passionate an' a bit of a drama-queen."

Harry actually scoffed at that.

"A little? She's almost as bad as Draco."

Griffin nodded.

"True. True. But see, she loves ya with everythin' she's got. She's more upset about upsettin' you than she is about her punishment, I can promise you that. Anyway, once she actually starts talkin' to magic folk like house elves an' listenin' to what they've got to say, rather than listenin' to prejudice ol' farts who don't know any better, I'm willin' ta bet she'll thank you for yankin' 'er out of that stupid, backwards way o' thinkin' so young. Not many born into the wizardin' world are that lucky."

He rolled into his back and his little paws batted at Harry's hand until Harry gave in and began stroking Griffin's belly, making him purr like a freight train.

"Oh, that's good. Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, like, the Malfoy's ain't dumb either, remember? An' they respect you. You havin' such an extreme reaction to somethin' like this will make 'em think over it. The fact that you told 'em, several times, that what Lily did was wrong will make 'em start to consider things they won't 'ave before. Rome wasn't built in a day, Harry. You've gotta start with a single stone."

Harry did feel a little better at Griffin's words and was for a moment fiercely grateful to have such a good friend and familiar by his side. When the gratitude faded though he was left feeling utterly washed out.

"Thanks for that, Griffin. I needed to hear it. I guess I better make a start on packing my things though. What are your plans for the night?"

Harry removed his hand and Griffin made a feebled mew for its loss before rolling onto his side, large gold eyes staring up at Harry.

"I'm gonna 'ave a nap and then go out for one last hunt. I'm gonna miss these grounds; so many small furry things to chase. Once I'm done though I'll sleep in with the little'un, then I can get her up an' ready in the morning."

Harry could see the wisdom behind Griffin's offer as Lily would likely be irritable with him for a while yet and he wanted her as calm as possible for the train journey. It still stung a little but he thanked Griffin and gave him a final stroke, which Griffin leaned up into indulgently.

"Well, you have fun on your hunt then. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Harry."

Harry walked Griffin over to Lily's door and cracked it open enough for the raven-in-cat-form to be able to slip in – both Harry and Lily always kept their windows ajar so Griffin could come and go as he pleased – then he couldn't resist poking his head around to check the bed. Lily was a tiny lump under the duvet, the very top of her head the only part of her visible as her slow, deep breaths filled the room.

Harry ducked back out of the room and shut the door as silently behind him as he could. Then he just stood there for he couldn't say how long, staring at Lily's door and going back over everything he'd said to her, trying to work out if he could have done anything better. He was at a loss though and could only hope he'd done the right thing. He wished desperatly that he had someone he could lean on in moments like this, especially when it came to raising Lily, but there was either no one he trusted enough or no one he trusted himself around.

Slowly he moved over to his own room and robotically went about packing the last of his things away. In the end all that was left was the few items he was keeping out for the next day and the bundle of letters from Ron and Hermione waiting as patiently as ever for him on the desk.

He missed them dreadfully and knew that if the situation had been a little different that he could write them a long, rambling letter about what had happened and get warm yet practical advice back from Hermione and a heartfelt attempt to make him feel better from Ron.

He wanted to tell them he was screwing everything up again and even worse he was screwing someone else up. A child. His child.

He wanted to tell them that he couldn't shake the feeling that he could never be anything but bad for her; how sometimes he would just look at her while she was playing and be almost overwhelmed by terror. He was so scared of hurting her, of failing her, of having her taken away from him, of getting her killed because he'd essentially painted a target on her back the moment he'd met her.

He wanted to tell them how scared he was over how he was going to look after her once they were at Hogwarts, where he'd be struggling to cope with the tactile nature of the students and living under a false identity without tipping Dumbledore off. How would he be able to keep her from innocently saying something she shouldn't without being able to be around her all the time? Griffin swore that he'd stay with her, but it wasn't fair to either of them to expect him to look after her every day.

He wanted to be able to tell them how worn down he was; how he wished he could throw in the towel because he's had enough but how he still has to get up the next morning because life wouldn't wait for him. He knew they'd understand him when he said he just wanted the space to catch his breath for once.

He wanted his best friend's reassurance. He wanted that confidence he always had whenever he knew they'd have his back. He just wanted to be able to let them in on everything that had happened since the start of summer, a mere three months ago yet it felt like a lifetime.

Instead he cast a slicing charm around the edges of the room and read their letters, knowing that all it would do was hurt him but wanting that pain anyway.

They started already concerned then went through anger that Harry was intentionally ignoring them, denial that anything might be serious enough for him to disregard them, pleading for him to just let them know that he was okay and finally a weary acceptance that they had somehow lost him and that they hoped to see him on the train – their last shard of hope that he was going to crush.

By the end of their letters, as the sun was starting to lighten the sky, he was sobbing.

TBC