Title: legare malade
Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst
Pairing: HP/DM
Rating: M
Summary: AU. There was never a boy who lived, only a boy who died.
Draco Malfoy is ill. Harry Potter is a Healer. Lucius Malfoy is desperate. Slash.
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. It's all the property of J.K Rowling, and this story is being written for entertainment purposes only. Not a dime is being made.
Yeah, the title is a hash job. If you have knowledge of Latin or French and want to help me fix it, send me an email. You will be credited. I'll give cookies!
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5
Lucius Malfoy was extraordinarily pleased with himself. He was in his office at Malfoy Manor, and he had Harry Potter sitting across from him, a bewildered expression on the boys face.
A magical contract lay on the desk between them, unsigned, but Lucius had a feeling it wouldn't be that way for much longer.
"Let me get this straight, Mr. Malfoy." Harry began, though his nervousness was making it quite difficult to speak. "You want me to work at Hogwarts and make things easier for your son. The details of the assignment will be forthcoming only after I sign this binding contract which will prevent me from slipping said details to anyone else. In exchange, you're going to agree to fund my research until my life expires?"
"That is correct, Mr. Potter." A smile flitted across Lucius' face before disappearing into his Malfoy mask.
Harry gaped. The money involved in such an arrangement was a phenomenal amount. He himself came from a wealthy family, but they certainly weren't wealthy enough to offer that. "What's the catch?"
"The catch, Mr. Potter, is that you don't know what you're getting yourself into until you sign the binding contract. Once signed, you must fulfill the task without question or the arrangement will be forfeit. Also, I'll require compensation."
Harry nodded, rolling what he knew over in his head. Lucius had secrets; there was no question about that. He wanted Harry stationed at Hogwarts in case something happened to his son. Given what Kate had said about Draco Malfoy's health, and Harry's knowledge on dark curses, it didn't take a genius to piece together the evidence. Something very bad had happened to Lucius' son, and now he needed help to clean up the mess, while at the same time preventing any outsiders from blabbing to the Aurors.
The only question was, what had happened? Harry looked at the contract once more. It was truly a piece of Slytherin genius. Even the wording on Harry's payment, "until his life expires" was classic Salazar. Harry had no doubt in his mind that if he were successful in the task Lucius was setting to him, that the elder Malfoy would find some way of making a pass at his life so he wouldn't have to pay. Still, his parents Gryffindor tendencies hadn't completely overstepped him. He found himself itching to see what was wrong with Malfoy's son. He wanted to be the one that helped the boy, the one that saved the day.
Sirius would be so proud.
Likewise, his Slytherin side was evaluating all that he hoped to gain. Lucius would try and kill him, of that there was no doubt, but since he wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise, he also had a chance.
And this would mean funding for his research. He'd never have to get down on his knees and beg the ministry to sign permission papers for funding.
He knew he should probably wait to give Lucius his answer, but his curiosity was killing him. He wanted to know what the secret was, and he wanted to know now.
Damn that Gryffindor impulsiveness. After all these years, he still couldn't quell it completely. The conversation he'd had with the sorting hat in first year had been most interesting in determining who he was. He still hadn't told anyone about it, not completely. Eventually, they'd agreed on Slytherin if only to end the atrociously long conversation.
Harry remembered being mortified at having to argue with a hat in front of all those people.
He signed the contract.
"Excellent!" Lucius practically purred, causing Harry some slight distress as his pants tightened at the sound.
Harry watched as the contract rolled itself up and disappeared in a shower of silver sparkles, presumably on its way to be filed at the ministry. Scant seconds later, Harry could feel the magic binding himself to Lucius Malfoy as a servant of the deed. Now he just had to discover what that deed was. "So, what's this secret of yours, Malfoy?"
"I killed the Dark Lord." Lucius deadpanned.
Harry's blank look was worth more than a thousand words. "Oh really?" he finally managed. "And why would you do something like that, given your political predilections?"
"It's very simple. The Dark Lord killed my son. I in turn, killed the Dark Lord."
"How is that simple, Lucius?" Harry asked irritably. "No one knows what's become of the Dark Lord, and you expect me to believe that you've killed him just because you say so?"
Without further ado, Lucius rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing a column of smooth creamy flesh. The sight of it did strange things to Harry's insides, but he quelled the feeling before it would show on his face. "What? What does this mean?"
"Fool of a boy. I was a known servant of the Dark Lord. He marked all of his servants. The mark has vanished, and that is only possible if the maker is deceased. I'm telling you he's dead, and that I killed him."
Harry tried to remain skeptic, but he knew all about the mark. If Lucius didn't have it anymore, then the Dark Lord truly must be dead. Funny how Severus had never said anything…"Yes, because he killed your son. Why on Earth would he do that, Malfoy?" Harry sneered, his tone laced with sarcasm as he watched that tempting arm disappear back under Malfoy's tailored sleeve.
"Because I allowed him to, Potter." Lucius waited a moment for that to sink in. The wait was far shorter than expected.
"You let some insane wizard with a hatred for muggles kill your own son?"
"Yes, but not without reason. Allow me to explain. In the early eighties, right around the time you were born, there was a prophecy made that clearly stated a child would be born with the power to destroy the Dark Lord. With a bit of study, we discovered that it was my child that filled the role in the prophecy. At the time, I would have done anything to serve the vision of my Lord, and so I granted him permission to take my sons life after we discovered the truth."
Harry gaped at the man across from him. That a man could hold so little love for his own child was repulsive. He closed his eyes, privately mourning for the child who'd never had a chance to live. "Go on."
"It was only after the deed had been done that I realized what a terrible mistake I'd made." Lucius' sneer ran even deeper as the words left his lips. "What kind of wizard kills another with his bare hands?"
"I'm sorry?"
"The Dark Lord took my sons life not with a curse, but with his bare hands. Someone had warned him that using the killing curse would have dire consequences. Instead, he prepared an elaborate ceremony, laying my son on a dais here in the manor. He muttered all kinds of words in that snake tongue of his, and then he strangled my son with his bare hands. It was disgusting, seeing the most powerful wizard in the word, taking the life of a baby with his hands. It was so…muggle." Lucius shook his head.
Harry couldn't move, his disgust was so deep it pulled him into a temporary state of paralysis. "You, Lucius Malfoy, are the most disgusting human being I've ever met in my life. You mean to tell me that you had no qualms about letting a mad man kill your innocent child, but the manner in which he did so spurred you into action against him?"
Lucius nodded. "Yes, that is precisely what I'm telling you."
Harry shook his head, completely bewildered.
"However, it is not that which concerns you, but that which happened afterward." Lucius rose from his desk and began pacing the small room. "It's no secret that I dabble in the dark arts. The Aurors have raided this house so many times I've lost count." He paused, collecting his thoughts. There was only so much he wanted Potter to know. Obviously, Harry would need to know about Draco. Not everything, but enough to make the young man understand what the situation was so that he would be able to assist when necessary.
Lucius had been very careful when planning out what Harry was to know, but now as he sat looking at the younger man, he was beginning to think the original plan might not work out. Potter's disgust in him as a father was a bit of a surprise. Sure, he'd not expected Potter to leap for joy when he announced that he'd allowed his son to die, but the vehemence in the young man's reply had throw Lucius off his game. Potter wouldn't be impressed to learn how Lucius had come to have a son – no, he'd have to gloss it over. Necromancy was ten times worse than a simple unforgivable curse.
This simply would not do.
He could however, play the line of regretful father to a tee. Potter would think he was trying to redeem himself, and the young man's pity would be useful. "When Draco was born," He started. "We were overjoyed. We had the chance to start afresh, and without a Dark Lord reigning over us, we could raise our son in the kind of environment a child deserves. We were given a second chance"
Harry swallowed, bile rising in his throat. "I suppose things weren't all roses and sunshine as you had thought?"
Lucius smiled charismatically. "No, Mr. Potter, they were not."
"What is wrong with your son, Lucius? We both know that I study the dark arts for healing purposes. That is no secret. My sister goes to school with Draco, and she told me that your son suffers from chronic illness. Taking what you've already said into account, I'm assuming this isn't some common ailment."
The elder Malfoy nodded. "No, Draco's condition is far more mysterious. I'm afraid I myself have no idea what ails him, and that's why I've asked for your assistance. He must have come into contact with some dark arts spell when he was a child, but I have no idea which one." Lucius hoped the ruse would work.
Harry knew Malfoy was keeping something from him. He also knew that that information was vital to discovering what was wrong with the man's son. However, it was also obvious that Malfoy didn't want Harry to know what that information was. "What do you know than, Malfoy?"
Lucius paused. There was a chance that Potter would be able to help Draco without knowing he was essentially a walking corpse. "I know that somehow, my son has been cursed. I know that his ailment leaves him weak and has prevented his growth. I know that he has limited magical resources. I know that I don't expect my son to live past Halloween."
"Halloween!" Harry looked frantically for a calendar, spotting one on the far wall. "Malfoy, that's…two weeks away! You're just contacting me now! I can't do anything for your son in two measly weeks!"
Lucius face hardened instantly. "Well, you'd better Mr. Potter, or else your own life won't be worth a knut."
"What! Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" Harry's Gryffindor fury was out of the cage now. He wanted to throw something, desperately. This sniveling conniving bastard dared to threaten him!
"You mean to tell me that you didn't read the last section of the contract? I told you that if the contract wasn't fulfilled, I would require compensation." Steel eyes met emerald green, glinting dangerously in the low light of the study.
"What compensation?" Harry's tone had a desperate edge to it.
Lucius retrieved his wand from its hiding place in his walking stick and rapped his desk twice. Two copies of the original contract appeared on the table. "Read for yourself, section 24b."
Hands shaking, Harry unfurled the parchment before him, his eyes scanning to the required section. His heart stopped beating in his chest as the words formed in front of his eyes. Fucking idiot!
"As you can see, it clearly states that if you aren't successful in finding a cure for my son's ailments-"
"I'm dead."
xxxx
"So, now I have to somehow throw together a curriculum for DADA in the next week, while hashing my way through this first week of lessons using the other professor's notes. What have I gotten myself into?" Harry sighed, rubbing his tired eyes in frustration. He hadn't slept since his meeting with Malfoy two days ago, and he hadn't gotten much headway on the class curriculum at all, since all of his time had been devoted to searching every text he could think of to help save Draco Malfoy's life.
Lucius had given him an envelop that outlined his son's medical schedule, prior diagnosis, and even a list of curses that might be the cause of Draco's current condition. After reading it, a wave of pity stronger than anything Harry had ever known had washed over him.
Draco Malfoy was one seriously fucked kid.
Apparently, he was not only sterile, but completely impotent. There were few signs that he would ever undergo a full transition into sexual adulthood, as even at the age of sixteen, he had very little body hair, and the last medical examination had shown no signs of his testicles ever dropping. For a boy his age, he stood at a meager 5'3", and while he did share his parents' lovely fey features, Draco's pale skin and hair was a case of extremes. He wasn't permitted outside for long periods of time without the aid of a skin-desensitizing potion, for he burned very easily. His eyes were deformed in a similar manner, and muggle sunglasses had proven to be the only means by which Draco could safely protect his eyes outdoors.
The muggles would have medically declared him albino, but there was no such term in the magical medical community. Really, there was so much that could be wrong with Draco that Harry knew just by looking at the folder that he was fucked. Royally. There was very little chance that he would both find and cure Draco's sickness before Halloween. It would take a fucking miracle. Draco might as well be a walking corpse.
Harry stared at the massive pile of paper he had to sort through. He'd commandeered his parents' dining room table for his own needs, declaring that Sunday dinner could easily be held elsewhere. His stress level had never been as high as it was now. Not only was he terrified about the results of his secret assignment, but it had suddenly occurred to him that afternoon that he was returning to Hogwarts. To teach. Merlin, he had no idea of where to begin…
"Honey, you really do need to relax." Lily Potter entered the dining room and placed a mug of tea on the lone bit of space on the table, urging Harry to take a sip. "Remus is on his way over, and he says he'd be more than happy to help you out. He'll be here shortly, so take a breather, alright love?"
Harry smiled weakly at his mother, accepting her gift of tea. "Thanks mum."
"Are you sure there isn't something else bothering you? You've given lectures at the university before, Harry, and you do have a little bit of teaching experience from that club of yours. You really shouldn't be so worked up over this."
Harry frowned. His mother really was too perceptive for her own damn good. "Really mum, I'm fine. I'm just nervous."
Lily looked skeptical at his answer, but nodded gently and returned to the kitchen. She'd hoped that she would be able to persuade Harry into having a heart to heart, but her son had always been a closed book when it came to her. Even James had trouble getting through to him. It hurt, but the realization that Harry connected better with his Godfather Sirius and Remus Lupin than he did with his own parents had been necessary in helping all of their relationships grow. At first, Lily had been so distraught over Harry's attitude that she'd not wanted to have any other children; afraid that they would grow away from her as her son had. That was why there was such a considerable gap between Harry and Kate. Luckily, Kate proved to be just the opposite of Harry, and Lily felt her relationship with her daughter couldn't be healthier. In fact, it sometimes made her sick that she got along so well with her daughter. Surely they should argue over some things?
The sound of the floo pulled Lily from her thoughts, and she moved into the living room to receive Remus Lupin with a smile. Her relationship with Remus really would never be the same. Despite all their efforts, she really couldn't fully forgive the fact that Harry would talk to Remus about anything and everything, but would be stiff and formal when it came to her. She couldn't quite help the leap her heart made into her throat as she watched her son come charging out of the dining room to hug his mentor.
Harry had never gone out of his way to show so much affection to her. Eyes stinging, Lily returned to her kitchen alcove, picking up the novel she'd left on the counter to glance over while she finished preparing dinner.
"Remus, I don't know what the hell to do!" Harry ran a hand through his thick hair, causing the wild mass to stick up even further, if such a thing were possible.
Remus Lupin smiled, helping himself to the leftovers of Harry's mug of tea. He removed a folder from his satchel and set it on the table. "I'm always happy to assist, Harry."
Remus had taught at Hogwarts in Harry's third year, and had been keeping up on the Ministry's curriculum changes in Defense Against the Dark Arts since then in the hopes that the laws would change, and his werewolf status would be acknowledged as non-threatening so that he could teach again. His year at Hogwarts had been one of the most satisfying that he could recall, and he was immensely jealous of Harry's ability to simply take up the position on a moment's notice. Remus, figuratively speaking, would have killed for such an opportunity. However, he wasn't one to hold a grudge, and it was obvious that Harry could use some help. After all, if the laws did change, he'd want his future students to be well taken care of now. "This is the curriculum that I would use if I were teaching Defense this year. I've got everything outlined, including texts and assignments. I made some modifications so that the textbook the students purchased for this year can still be used. All you have to do is follow my outlines, and you're set." He smiled warmly, handing the folder over to Harry.
Harry gaped as the mass amount of work became visible behind the spell that held the tiny folder in place. "So basically Remy, you've done all my work for me?"
There werewolf laughed. "Yes Harry. Just be a sport and don't tell anyone, especially Severus."
"Remus, I swear I could kiss you." Harry was in awe of his mentor. It was obvious that teaching was Remus' one true passion-the folder was overflowing with tips and variations on assignments, notes on what techniques worked with what kind of students. It was absolutely amazing. "I swear if I ever find myself in a position to get you teaching again, I'll do it without question."
"Thank you Harry." Remus smiled, but then frowned as the tension rolling off Harry's body didn't recede. Something else was bothering the young man, and it was something big. "Harry-"
Harry knew what was coming, and stopped Remus with a hand, turning to meet his eyes. "Sometimes I think you know me too well, Remy, but now's not a good time to talk about it. I swear if I think you can help me, I'll come to you, but it's really not something I want to discuss at the moment." Remus nodded, respecting the distance Harry wanted to put on the issue. Harry was grown now, and whatever he'd got himself into, Remus trusted him to get out of it. He'd intervene when asked, but not before hand. He was a bit startled when Harry approached him and drew him into a hug, but returned it lovingly non-the-less. "Thank you Remy. You have no idea how much this, all of it-" he gestured to the folder and indicated their embrace, "means to me."
"Actually Harry, I do."
xxxx
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