Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed...special thanks to T.K.
Yuy, who knows why. You're an angel, I swear.
Disclaimer: See part one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The three managed to slip out of Honeydukes without being noticed, thanks to an invisibility spell, and, with Nathalie firmly gripping Harry's hand, they Apparated to the edge of the Apparition wards on Malfoy Manor.
"It's only five minutes walk," Draco explained, glancing around the wooded area they were in. "Through here - come on."
Harry didn't answer, but he let go of Nathalie and allowed her to run on ahead as they left the wood and crossed the lawn in front of the large, imposing Manor. The windows gaped down at them, and Harry tore his eyes away from it with difficulty to watch Nathalie circle a small pool with interest.
"Careful, cherie," he called out. She sent him a withering look, and he smothered a small smile.
"You overprotect her," Draco commented, trying to sound neutral but not quite succeeding. Harry shot him a fiery look.
"It's better than not protecting her," he replied evenly. "We have to be careful, with what we are. I won't see her in their hands...there's no knowing what they'd do to her."
"Well, they won't find her here," Draco said firmly. "Lucius put so many wards around this place it's harder to find than Hogwarts." He looked away from Harry, away from his daughter, and entered his home. A moment later, Harry called to Nathalie, and they followed him in.
Harry had been to Malfoy Manor twice before. Once when he had been captured by Death Eaters in his sixth year, and once during the year after he had left Hogwarts, when he'd stayed with Draco, just before he'd found out who he was. Both times, the Manor had been dark and forbidding...just like Lucius Malfoy.
The light, airy rooms he saw now were a complete shock. He blinked several times.
"I redecorated," Draco told him, seeing the surprise. "I didn't want anything to remind me of Lucius."
Harry nodded slowly. *Makes sense. Especially after...* "Draco...thank you. For this. We appreciate it."
Draco slowly turned, gazing at Harry with a slightly curious expression. 'Did you think I'd just let the Aurors get you?"
Harry shrugged. He didn't want to really think about that. "You would have nine years ago."
Draco stiffened. "You know your way around," he said tautly after a moment. "I wouldn't advise going outside, but of course you'll do as you want, just like always. You can have whichever of the guest rooms you want." He disappeared through a door, and Nathalie looked up from her inspection of the room.
"Where'd Daddy go?" she demanded. "I wanted to ask him something."
Harry grimaced. "I don't know, Nathalie. Why don't you go and find him? You're more likely to get a civil word out of him than I am." He stalked to the other end of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Nathalie frowned. "Stupid men," she muttered, and started to explore the house. Several hours later, she had found her way into one of the dustier attics, and was digging around in a large trunk of what seemed to be forgotten clothes.
"Junk...junk...junk...ooh, picture! No, junk...junk...hmm." She lifted out a small wooden box. "I wonder what this is?"
Sitting in a pile of dust that was making her nose itch, she pushed her plaits back and pried off the lid of the box. More dust flew up into her face, and she choked for a moment, coughing. When she could finally breathe again, she peeked into the box.
"Wow," she murmured. "Pretty." She glanced up as she heard a bang from somewhere below her, and raised voices. Tugging on the gold loop that adorned her right ear, she debated whether or not it would be a good idea to go down and interrupt her fathers' argument.
*Perhaps not,* she decided after hearing her Daddy yell something particularly insulting to her Papa. *I'm not really in the mood to get killed. Or maimed. Or blown up.*
She inspected the contents of the box again, and withdrew a scrap of parchment. *I wonder what this is?*
There was another, louder crash from below her. Nathalie frowned. This, she decided, was not good. She stood up, brushing dust from her clothes, and left the attic, clattering down the stairs noisily, then looking for her fathers.
It wasn't hard; she followed the shouting to a large library on the first floor. Two large wooden doors barred her way. She pushed at one of them, and it slowly swung open.
Harry and Draco were standing in the middle of the library, shrieking insults at each other just as they had earlier, when Harry had reluctantly told Draco about Never. Several mirrors on the walls had cracked, as had a couple of windows, and at least a dozen books had been ripped apart.
From what Nathalie could tell, it wasn't all the fault of her Papa.
"Well, if you're in such great danger, I don't see why your mystical lover can't protect you," Draco flung at Harry. "You certainly don't seem to need my help!"
"You understand nothing about Never and the Others!" Harry thundered. "Don't presume to make assumptions about them!"
"Well, I wouldn't have to make assumptions if you would talk to me about what's going on!" Draco snapped. "This affects Nathalie, and in case you haven't noticed, she's my daughter too!"
Harry was shaking with rage; another window smashed. "Really? I could hardly tell," he commented, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I mean, you certainly haven't been a father to her up till now. She barely even knows your name."
"Through no fault of mine," Draco retorted. "I barely even knew she existed before you turned up at Hogwarts, messing up my life again - and I certainly didn't know that she was *my* daughter, and that's your fault, Potter. You kept her from me - and I don't intend to let you do that again."
Nathalie decided that perhaps it was time to make her presence known.
"Hello," she said loudly. "I found this." She held up the box. "What is it?" The two men instantly turned to her, identical guilty expressions on their faces. She lifted the box a little more. "Papa? Daddy? What is it?"
Harry closed his eyes and turned away. He couldn't look at her, not after the things he'd just said to Draco...to her father. He couldn't bring himself to mar in any way her innocence...and he knew he would. It was the only thing he felt capable of doing anymore.
"Let me have a look, little bit," Draco said gently, taking the box from Nathalie. He looked into it, moving aside the parchment, and his eyes widened. "Oh. Where...where did you find this, little bit?"
Nathalie shrugged. "An attic. Should I not have been in there?"
Draco spared a swift glance at Harry, who was standing in the middle of the room, slightly hunched over, still facing away from them.
"No, it's alright," he said slowly. "You can go anywhere in the Manor that you want to, as long as you're careful. I'll...I'll tell you about these things in a while, okay? I just need to talk to your Papa for a moment."
Nathalie raised one eyebrow in an expression that was eerily reminiscent of Draco himself. "You weren't talking. You were fighting." A smile tugged at Draco's mouth, albeit reluctantly.
"We won't fight anymore," he promised. "Why don't you go down to the kitchen and see if the house elves are making lunch? I'm sure they have some ice cream or something somewhere around down there."
Nathalie's eyes lit up, and with an excited squeak she bounded out of the library, intent on finding the promised ice cream, the argument forgotten. Draco slowly turned back to Harry.
"She gets.she gets so excited over ice cream," Harry choked out. "She...we haven't been able to...it's been too risky...and I promised myself that I'd give her a better childhood than I had...than you had...I'm a terrible father, I'm too wrapped up in myself and Never.and she hates it. She hates it all, she hates moving, she hates Never, she hates me, sometimes. And I...I can't stand it. I can't stand waking up everyday knowing that she might be taken away from me if I let her make friends, let her eat ice cream, let her play in the park. I haven't been able to let her know you, because I was too scared that you would destroy us." He shrugged a little. "I...I was wrong. I was so, so wrong...I couldn't have been more wrong...but I was so scared, Draco. I still am. I'm afraid for Nathalie. She has to grow up with this darkness in her, and I can't do anything to stop that. Her innocence will be corrupted, and it will all be my fault."
Draco sighed, stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Harry again, comforting him. "Of course you were," he murmured. "Anyone would be. You can't expect yourself to be brave all the time, Harry."
"If I'm not, who will be?"
Draco closed his eyes in resignation. Harry had always been like this. He was always such a perfect Gryffindor. He wouldn't let people in until he was sure they were trustworthy - *Am I still trustworthy, after the things I said?*- and he would never allow himself to show - or even feel - fear.
Harry stirred in his arms. "I'm being a complete bastard to you, Draco," he whispered. "Why are you putting up with me?"
Draco put his head on one side, and considered. "I think," he began slowly, "it's because I still love you, Harry. Despite everything. Despite the fights, and the angry words, I still love you. And because...because I know there's something going on with you that you can't tell anyone yet, and I need to be there for you when you *can* talk about it."
Harry managed a weak chuckle. "Smart-ass Slytherin."
"Brain-dead Gryffindor," Draco replied automatically, with more than a little fondness. Then he exhaled. "Harry..."
He didn't have a chance to finish what he was going to say, because there was a blast of energy that pulled him away from Harry and shoved him against the door. He grimaced with pain. Harry stumbled backwards a few paces with the backlash of the energy. When the blinding light, that had filled the room with the energy, finally dissipated, a being was standing in front of Harry protectively, and Harry looked more furious than he ever was with Draco.
"Never, what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.
Disclaimer: See part one.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The three managed to slip out of Honeydukes without being noticed, thanks to an invisibility spell, and, with Nathalie firmly gripping Harry's hand, they Apparated to the edge of the Apparition wards on Malfoy Manor.
"It's only five minutes walk," Draco explained, glancing around the wooded area they were in. "Through here - come on."
Harry didn't answer, but he let go of Nathalie and allowed her to run on ahead as they left the wood and crossed the lawn in front of the large, imposing Manor. The windows gaped down at them, and Harry tore his eyes away from it with difficulty to watch Nathalie circle a small pool with interest.
"Careful, cherie," he called out. She sent him a withering look, and he smothered a small smile.
"You overprotect her," Draco commented, trying to sound neutral but not quite succeeding. Harry shot him a fiery look.
"It's better than not protecting her," he replied evenly. "We have to be careful, with what we are. I won't see her in their hands...there's no knowing what they'd do to her."
"Well, they won't find her here," Draco said firmly. "Lucius put so many wards around this place it's harder to find than Hogwarts." He looked away from Harry, away from his daughter, and entered his home. A moment later, Harry called to Nathalie, and they followed him in.
Harry had been to Malfoy Manor twice before. Once when he had been captured by Death Eaters in his sixth year, and once during the year after he had left Hogwarts, when he'd stayed with Draco, just before he'd found out who he was. Both times, the Manor had been dark and forbidding...just like Lucius Malfoy.
The light, airy rooms he saw now were a complete shock. He blinked several times.
"I redecorated," Draco told him, seeing the surprise. "I didn't want anything to remind me of Lucius."
Harry nodded slowly. *Makes sense. Especially after...* "Draco...thank you. For this. We appreciate it."
Draco slowly turned, gazing at Harry with a slightly curious expression. 'Did you think I'd just let the Aurors get you?"
Harry shrugged. He didn't want to really think about that. "You would have nine years ago."
Draco stiffened. "You know your way around," he said tautly after a moment. "I wouldn't advise going outside, but of course you'll do as you want, just like always. You can have whichever of the guest rooms you want." He disappeared through a door, and Nathalie looked up from her inspection of the room.
"Where'd Daddy go?" she demanded. "I wanted to ask him something."
Harry grimaced. "I don't know, Nathalie. Why don't you go and find him? You're more likely to get a civil word out of him than I am." He stalked to the other end of the room and slammed the door behind him.
Nathalie frowned. "Stupid men," she muttered, and started to explore the house. Several hours later, she had found her way into one of the dustier attics, and was digging around in a large trunk of what seemed to be forgotten clothes.
"Junk...junk...junk...ooh, picture! No, junk...junk...hmm." She lifted out a small wooden box. "I wonder what this is?"
Sitting in a pile of dust that was making her nose itch, she pushed her plaits back and pried off the lid of the box. More dust flew up into her face, and she choked for a moment, coughing. When she could finally breathe again, she peeked into the box.
"Wow," she murmured. "Pretty." She glanced up as she heard a bang from somewhere below her, and raised voices. Tugging on the gold loop that adorned her right ear, she debated whether or not it would be a good idea to go down and interrupt her fathers' argument.
*Perhaps not,* she decided after hearing her Daddy yell something particularly insulting to her Papa. *I'm not really in the mood to get killed. Or maimed. Or blown up.*
She inspected the contents of the box again, and withdrew a scrap of parchment. *I wonder what this is?*
There was another, louder crash from below her. Nathalie frowned. This, she decided, was not good. She stood up, brushing dust from her clothes, and left the attic, clattering down the stairs noisily, then looking for her fathers.
It wasn't hard; she followed the shouting to a large library on the first floor. Two large wooden doors barred her way. She pushed at one of them, and it slowly swung open.
Harry and Draco were standing in the middle of the library, shrieking insults at each other just as they had earlier, when Harry had reluctantly told Draco about Never. Several mirrors on the walls had cracked, as had a couple of windows, and at least a dozen books had been ripped apart.
From what Nathalie could tell, it wasn't all the fault of her Papa.
"Well, if you're in such great danger, I don't see why your mystical lover can't protect you," Draco flung at Harry. "You certainly don't seem to need my help!"
"You understand nothing about Never and the Others!" Harry thundered. "Don't presume to make assumptions about them!"
"Well, I wouldn't have to make assumptions if you would talk to me about what's going on!" Draco snapped. "This affects Nathalie, and in case you haven't noticed, she's my daughter too!"
Harry was shaking with rage; another window smashed. "Really? I could hardly tell," he commented, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I mean, you certainly haven't been a father to her up till now. She barely even knows your name."
"Through no fault of mine," Draco retorted. "I barely even knew she existed before you turned up at Hogwarts, messing up my life again - and I certainly didn't know that she was *my* daughter, and that's your fault, Potter. You kept her from me - and I don't intend to let you do that again."
Nathalie decided that perhaps it was time to make her presence known.
"Hello," she said loudly. "I found this." She held up the box. "What is it?" The two men instantly turned to her, identical guilty expressions on their faces. She lifted the box a little more. "Papa? Daddy? What is it?"
Harry closed his eyes and turned away. He couldn't look at her, not after the things he'd just said to Draco...to her father. He couldn't bring himself to mar in any way her innocence...and he knew he would. It was the only thing he felt capable of doing anymore.
"Let me have a look, little bit," Draco said gently, taking the box from Nathalie. He looked into it, moving aside the parchment, and his eyes widened. "Oh. Where...where did you find this, little bit?"
Nathalie shrugged. "An attic. Should I not have been in there?"
Draco spared a swift glance at Harry, who was standing in the middle of the room, slightly hunched over, still facing away from them.
"No, it's alright," he said slowly. "You can go anywhere in the Manor that you want to, as long as you're careful. I'll...I'll tell you about these things in a while, okay? I just need to talk to your Papa for a moment."
Nathalie raised one eyebrow in an expression that was eerily reminiscent of Draco himself. "You weren't talking. You were fighting." A smile tugged at Draco's mouth, albeit reluctantly.
"We won't fight anymore," he promised. "Why don't you go down to the kitchen and see if the house elves are making lunch? I'm sure they have some ice cream or something somewhere around down there."
Nathalie's eyes lit up, and with an excited squeak she bounded out of the library, intent on finding the promised ice cream, the argument forgotten. Draco slowly turned back to Harry.
"She gets.she gets so excited over ice cream," Harry choked out. "She...we haven't been able to...it's been too risky...and I promised myself that I'd give her a better childhood than I had...than you had...I'm a terrible father, I'm too wrapped up in myself and Never.and she hates it. She hates it all, she hates moving, she hates Never, she hates me, sometimes. And I...I can't stand it. I can't stand waking up everyday knowing that she might be taken away from me if I let her make friends, let her eat ice cream, let her play in the park. I haven't been able to let her know you, because I was too scared that you would destroy us." He shrugged a little. "I...I was wrong. I was so, so wrong...I couldn't have been more wrong...but I was so scared, Draco. I still am. I'm afraid for Nathalie. She has to grow up with this darkness in her, and I can't do anything to stop that. Her innocence will be corrupted, and it will all be my fault."
Draco sighed, stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around Harry again, comforting him. "Of course you were," he murmured. "Anyone would be. You can't expect yourself to be brave all the time, Harry."
"If I'm not, who will be?"
Draco closed his eyes in resignation. Harry had always been like this. He was always such a perfect Gryffindor. He wouldn't let people in until he was sure they were trustworthy - *Am I still trustworthy, after the things I said?*- and he would never allow himself to show - or even feel - fear.
Harry stirred in his arms. "I'm being a complete bastard to you, Draco," he whispered. "Why are you putting up with me?"
Draco put his head on one side, and considered. "I think," he began slowly, "it's because I still love you, Harry. Despite everything. Despite the fights, and the angry words, I still love you. And because...because I know there's something going on with you that you can't tell anyone yet, and I need to be there for you when you *can* talk about it."
Harry managed a weak chuckle. "Smart-ass Slytherin."
"Brain-dead Gryffindor," Draco replied automatically, with more than a little fondness. Then he exhaled. "Harry..."
He didn't have a chance to finish what he was going to say, because there was a blast of energy that pulled him away from Harry and shoved him against the door. He grimaced with pain. Harry stumbled backwards a few paces with the backlash of the energy. When the blinding light, that had filled the room with the energy, finally dissipated, a being was standing in front of Harry protectively, and Harry looked more furious than he ever was with Draco.
"Never, what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
To be continued.