But she doesn't.

He wakes up each morning for the next three mornings expecting to arrive at breakfast and for his mother and father to know, but they don't. They smile at him just as before, except that his mother's smile is tinged with a little more concern each day. The need to tell them grows stronger, just as his certainty that she'll do it grows weaker. He lay in bed, another night, thinking about. Just like the night before. Just like he knows he will tomorrow night.

Why hasn't she told them?

'If you tell them anything about this camp or about me, they'll find you again and kill you.'

Could she still believe that? Could she be sitting in her bed, desperate to tell her mother, or her father, but afraid they'll kill her if she breathes a word?

"If they catch you and you tell them anything about me, I'll let them kill you, because they'll already have killed me."

Could she be worried about him?

He sits bolt upright in bed, his covers falling off his head and onto his thighs. He crawls out of bed. Zee's head lifts and he cocks his head at him, as if asking 'what are you doing?'

"I have to tell them, Zee," he breathes, feeling the air constrict in his chest. "I have to." Zee tips his head the other way, letting out a low whine at the distress in his voice. The wolf-dog looks him up and down and then, finding what he's looking for, puts his head down and Devlin knows he's saying 'do what you have to' and so Devlin does. He opens the door and tiptoes out of it and into the hallway just like he had heard Emma that one night.

He reaches their door. It is closed. He puts his hand on the knob, but his courage is dissipating. He turns around. Zee is in his doorway, sitting there, watching him. His head is tipped and his tail is wagging slowly but surely and Devlin knows, he can feel it in the dogs regard, that the dog wants him to go into the room.

"It makes her all-better when she goes in here, doesn't it?" Devlin whispers to him, referring to Emma. The dog's eyebrows go up. Devlin opens the door and inches inside.

He's never been in the room before. It is larger than his room. An ajar door off to the right clearly shows a bathroom and there is enough room for two wardrobes, two chairs, and a large bed. In the bed, are his Mum and Dad. He tiptoes over to his father's side. It is Harry who must know. Harry who he fears most will never forgive him. Telling his mother would only be like half-finishing a job.

"Dad?" The green eyes snap open, quick as lightning. Harry expects to see Emma standing there, sniffling softly and certain a monster is in her room, but instead it is Devlin, standing there shaking silently. He sits up and puts his glasses on. He pats Alex softly when she begins to stir and tells her to go back to sleep.

"Lets talk in the hallway," he whispers, ushering Devlin out the door. Devlin glances at his room, wondering if he could just slip inside and close the door and forget he woke his father up. Zee is still sitting there and his presence is enough to make Devlin stay. "What's up, Devlin?"

"I-" he looks at his feet, clearly embarrassed to have woken him up like that. Like a child. "I need to tell you something," he whispers. Harry nods in encouragement. Perhaps Devlin has changed his mind and will tell Harry who had been at the Ministry ball – and Harry can tuck him into bed and then go strangle the person. But Devlin doesn't continue.

"Is something bothering you?" He encourages, careful to avoid the word 'scared'; Devlin does not like admitting he gets scared. He wonders if the child will tell him more than the simple name; if all of it will come to surface: all the abuse and torture he must have withstood at Voldemort's hands. The Mind Healer Alex and he had consulted privately said it could take months or even years for him to be comfortable enough to discuss what had happened. He braces himself for the worst, especially after the row they'd had earlier that week.

"Remember at the Ministry Ball, when I ran away?" He says, talking slowly and hesitantly. Harry nods, too afraid words will startle the boy and he'll never get to hear the name. Oh how he wants the name. "And you found me hiding?" Another nod. "And I told you one of them had been there?" Nod. A long pause; Harry fights to keep himself quiet.

"One of them was, but I wasn't hiding from him…" Harry feels a frown creeping onto his face. "I was hiding from you and Mum." For a moment everything seems to stop and Harry is especially aware that it is 3am in the morning, that he body aches from work today, that Devlin is barefoot and must be cold, and that his child had run away and hid from him.

"Why?" He manages to say, even though his lungs are not cooperating with him.

"There was a little girl at our table…" Harry nods and tries to remember if he'd bestowed any affection onto Maria Watson and if this was going to be another discussion about how he didn't love Devlin because he'd patted Thomas on the head. He's not sure if he can stand the idea that every move he makes will be analyzed and used to judge his love. "I've met her before…"

It takes a minute for his words to penetrate Harry's thoughts. The way he lets his voice trail off disturbs Harry and makes a voice from the past float forward into his present mind: "I've seen that boy before…"

"Where did you meet her?" He asks, although he's more than certain he knows the answer. He hopes his voice sounds reasonably level. Devlin looks up at him and fidgets some more.

"She was kidnapped, like me." But of course, Harry already knew this about Maria Watson. Kidnapped just like Devlin, only to appear back in her mother and father's arms less than forty-eight hours later. He hadn't been able to look at David for months afterwards – why that girl and not his Devlin? But he'd known the answer: Maria Watson wasn't as important as Harry bloody Potter's son!

He had questioned the girl endlessly – trying to figure out how to she had escaped, dreaming there was a possibility Devlin was wandering around some Muggle town like this girl, adopted by some Muggle family or in some orphanage! He'd even checked – spent hours talking to Muggle authorities and searching their 'missing child reports' but nothing. And she had never spoken a word to him, or her mother, or her father.

"But…they just wanted to hurt her parents. She wasn't really that valuable, I don't think. Not like me." Harry fights the sickening feeling welling up in his stomach. He doesn't want his son to know the difference. It isn't right that an eight year old should know he's worth more tortured and abused than outright killed – or that another child will have her freedom whereas he will not, because of his father. No wonder Devlin didn't think he loved him.

"She was wearing a blue summer dress when they dragged her through the compound," Devlin says, whispering. Harry drags himself out of his thoughts, to listen. "They're not supposed to apparate into the open like that, but they were new, at least that's what Geoffrey said. He told me they just held children until their parents did what Voldemort wanted – they weren't valuable enough to torture. I didn't believe him. Before they had brought me to Voldemort," he looks down the hallway, as if he's looking into the past. Harry wants to rip that past away from him, crumple it like a badly written letter, and throw it away. "The Death Eater's said things to me…about what they do to little boys and girls…especially cute ones. I didn't understand most of it, but I knew they were talking about things they shouldn't do – that would hurt." Harry closes his eyes and wills his stomach acid back down his throat.

"Daddy?" He opens his eyes and Devlin is standing there crying. "She was wearing a blue summer dress and her red hair was all around her and she had these brilliant blue eyes and I thought…I thought that was what Emma might look like when she grew up. She was so pretty. I knew what they'd do to her. I couldn't let them do those things to her. I lay in my bed and I couldn't stop imagining her screaming and crying and begging…" Harry has his arms around Devlin, drawing the boy's shaking frame close to him. "But I did something wrong." Devlin pushes away.

"You don't want to hug me, Dad. You won't want to after you know." Harry can't imagine anything that will make that true, but the boy is backing away from him, fear in his eyes.

It is always fear, cold, haunting, and crystal clear, which makes Harry realize how human others are. He hates it when Death Eaters show that kind of fear. Hates it because he knows he needs it; he has to remember that humans make mistakes. But Devlin doesn't need any fear – Harry knows how human he is, and so the fear makes Harry hurt.

"I will never hate you, Devlin." He says. Devlin laughs, except it almost sounds like a sob.

"I used the Imperius Curse. I was seven and I used the Imperius Curse on her." Harry frowns and blinks and then repeats the motions, trying hard to understand what Devlin is so clearly saying.

"I still don't hate you," of course he didn't. How could Devlin think that Harry had ever once thought that Voldemort hadn't made him do things? Dreamed of the possibility he hadn't – certainly. But he had always known his dreams were only that. "But why?"

"She wouldn't move,"he says, as if this explains everything. Harry tips his head in a show of confusion. "I told her to move, but she wouldn't and the guards were patrolling and I'd timed everything and she was messing it all up. She was going to get us both killed!"

How could Maria Watson have gotten Devlin killed? If that had been a possibility, then that would mean they had met, not just Devlin had seen her, but that she had seen Devlin. He remembers sitting in front of her and the way she had cried even when she'd looked at him. He remembers her only words to him "please don't make me, Mr. Potter, you don't want to make me," and he hadn't known what to think then, but realization is dawning cold and hard in his mind.

'She was going to get us both killed.' In her own childish way, Maria had refused to talk so that she could protect herself and Devlin. But why would she think she couldn't tell her father or Harry?

In front of him Devlin is shaking uncontrollably, breathes away from the seizure Harry never wants to witness again. Harry leads him to his bedroom and takes a potion off his shelf and watches as the boy swallows it. It doesn't calm him or stop his shaking, but they both know it will prevent the otherwise inevitable seizure.

After a couple minutes of sobbing and gulping air and finally simply fidgeting, Devlin opens his mouth again.

"I snuck into the tent where they hold all the prisoners…" he is saying. "I lay under her cot until the guard was down the hall and then I put my hand over her mouth and she woke up and I told her not to scream or I'd leave her there," he's still shaking. He's on the floor, on his knees. Harry wonders if he'd realized he needed the potion too late.

"She didn't scream. She snuck out with me. Then we had to cross an open part – we were behind the prisoner tent and we had to get to behind the barracks tent. A stretch that was larger," he looks up and around the room "larger than this room. It seemed impossible and I knew we had to cross separately. I had to go first to see if there was anyone in wolf form and she had to come exactly when I said so. I told her this before I went ahead," he says, as if he's defending himself. "But when I motioned for her from the barracks tent, she just stood there, frozen."

"And so you used the Imperius Curse," Harry murmurs.

"I didn't think it would work, honest! Grandfather had tried so many times to make me do it, but I was rotten at the spell. He'd told me 'you have to mean it' and guess he was right." Devlin is looking at his bare feet, shivering. Absent mindedly Harry spells his slippers onto his feet. Devlin looks up, and there is no fear in his eyes anymore, just hurt. The same look he'd had moments before Draco Malfoy had apparated away with him in his eyes – uncertain hurt. "I told her… I told her that if she told anyone, they'd find her and kill her. I was just trying to protect myself. I didn't think ahead – I didn't realize she really wouldn't until I was here and I didn't tell you anything, either. I didn't know what it meant to fear like that until Severus taught me Occlumency and I didn't have to be afraid of what I said."

Harry is nodding, trying to find words to comfort Devlin.

"She must be so afraid," Devlin whispers, still shaking.

"Just like you were?" Harry asks. To his surprise, Devlin nods and that's all Harry needs to be kneeling on the ground too, gathering the boy in his arms and breathing in his scent, hearing his heart beating quick against his own.

"She has to know she's safe now," Devlin sobs. "It's horrible when you don't. I didn't mean to scare her so much. I was so scared they'd find her because she wouldn't run fast enough, or they'd sense the magic before you and then I'd be in so much trouble. I knew Grandfather wouldn't kill me, but I didn't tell her, because it would be worse. I knew he'd use it again and I knew I'd scream."

"Shhh, it's okay now, Devlin." But those had been the wrong words to say.

"No it's not!" He yells suddenly. "Haven't you heard me? It's not okay. She's still scared!"

"It's three in the morning, Devlin. We can't do anything right now. I'll call David tomorrow and we'll tell him, okay?" The boy sinks back into his arms and nods against his chest. Although Devlin can't see it, he's smiling. It hadn't been because she wasn't a Potter that she'd survived; it had been because of a Potter. His son had been the difference.

Did you notice those little words Devlin said that Harry has yet to process? Well if you did you're probably thinking 'oooh, when will Harry realize it' and if you're not your probably scrolling up to find Devlin's slip-up. :)

How many of you saw the Imperius curse coming? I have had Devlin's rescue (from his POV) written for WEEKS and have been dying to reach this point. Not sure if he'll dream the full scene or I'll just release it as a snippet, we'll see.

How many of you would be interested in some more Voldemort/Devlin interaction (set in the present) or do you feel I should hold off on that? Not a full blown rekidnapping, of course (that is already planned for much later) just some…correspondence.

Hope you liked the chapter. I have the next 6 pages of chapter 26 already written, but there are two ways to go with it and I think a scene I've placed in the next chapter will have to wait a bit, so I need to do a little rewriting, else this chapter would have been a big old 11 pages long! It almost was ;)

PLEASE REVIEW!