Title: legatum de maladie

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.

xxxx

9

Harry's eyes had probably never been wider, but given what they were currently experiencing, no one could blame him.

"Well hello there, Professor Potter." Sibyl Trelawney giggled, sliding her hands down her satin clad torso. "I've come to welcome you to Hogwarts personally."

Harry remembered Professor Trelawney from when he'd been a student. She'd always been a barmy old bat who wore the oddest assortment of clothes, glasses that were worse than the pair he'd owned as a boy, and the weirdest hair.

The woman in front of him was a buxom satin-chemise clad she-devil. It was also painfully honest why she was there.

Harry was very much afraid. "Pro-Professor Trelawney. How nice to see you." helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme His brain was too overloaded to be able to process i how /i the woman had managed to find his chambers dressed the way she was while the halls were filled with students.

Trelawney slammed the door shut and leaned against it in a strikingly sensual pose. "My inner eye has been channeling your lust all day…"

"Lust?" Harry thought about that. He didn't see how that was possible, he hadn't even woken up with wood that morning…oh. "Professor Trelawney, I really don't think this is appropriate."

Sibyl frowned. "Oh, phooey. Tell me you're more fun than that sodding excuse for an Auror."

Harry stuttered. He really didn't want to get into this, but the scenario was rapidly escalating beyond his control. "Prof- Sibyl, I really think you should lea-" His protests were cut off when he suddenly found himself seated back in his chair with a lapful of horny Divination Professor.

"You were such a pretty boy when you were in school, but oh my look at you now! What a man you've become!" She squirmed happily in his lap, and Harry sighed. She wasn't unattractive, in her odd way. He however…

Well, he'd been with women before, but they were usually a rarity. He had to be in a specific mood to sleep with a woman, and he certainly wasn't in one now. "Sibyl, I'm flattered, I really am, but I don't think that this is what you want."

She grabbed his hands and shamelessly attached them to her rounded hips while she pressed herself more tightly to Harry's body. "Come on now, Mr. Potter, let's play."

Harry winced as she began to undulate in his arms, rubbing her ample bosom over his chest. He really felt bad for her now. There was no way in hell he was going to get it up over this display, and he really hoped she wouldn't take it the wrong way…

"What's this? Does little Potter not want to play?"

Harry smiled weakly. "It's nothing personal, Sibyl."

Her eyes darkened and she stopped moving in his lap. "Nothing personal?"

"No, I-"

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't find me attractive?" She shrieked. "You listen to me, you little sonofabitch, I'm the hottest thing you'll ever get your hands on. You're lucky to have me!"

"Trelawney, I swear, it's nothing personal. You're a beautiful woman, I just-" Harry cried out when he suddenly felt well manicured nails digging into his sensitive flesh. His eyes crossed when those nails twisted harshly, and all Harry saw was black…

He didn't know how much time had passed when he came to, but Sibyl was still there. She was leaning against his desk, and had managed to pull a cigarette from somewhere, and she was huffing on it like it was the last one on Earth. He eyed his black teaching robe appreciatively, grateful that she'd deigned to throw it on over her shift. He groaned, the pain in his groin becoming more unbearable with each passing moment. He had to get up though. Standing on shaky legs, he found his chair and sank into it, beads of sweat pouring down his face with the effort. He coughed. "Sibyl, I'm really sorry that I've offended you."

"Offended me?" She snorted. "Don't worry, Potter, I trust you've learned your lesson."

Harry winced. He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever get to use his cock again. "Please let me explain?"

"There's nothing to explain, you miserable ingrate."

"Sibyl, I'm gay."

There was a pregnant pause over which Trelawney became very interested in the colour of the carpet on the floor. "I see." She said, her cheeks tinting lightly.

"Yeah."

"Well then." She coughed miserably, "It seems I owe you an apology then." She wrapped the folds of Harry's robe more tightly around herself. "I'll be going. I'll have a house elf return the robe. Oh, and Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Let's never speak of this, shall we?" She seemed to slip into the airy mode he'd always equated with her personality. "The balance between professionalism and friendship is really, ah…delicate." She flittered out of the room with the same awkward grace she'd had in her classroom for twenty plus years, all traces of the she-cat on the prowl gone.

Harry sighed and winced when he looked at the clock. Draco Malfoy's detention was set to start in ten minutes, and Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to chance walking. "Fucking Merlin on a Firebolt," he rubbed his crotch tentatively. Well, he certainly couldn't go around like this. His face reddened. He wondered if Poppy had ever had to deal with twisted nail-gouged cock before.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

xxxx

Rhoswen rolled her eyes when she saw Professor Potter come limping down the corridor in her direction. It was nice that she didn't have to go looking for the man, but if his pace was anything to go by, he was obviously headed to the infirmary of his own accord. Still, he was a Slytherin, or had been in the past, and she knew the least she could do is offer him a hand….and then pray he didn't want it. "Professor Potter, sir? Are you okay?"

Harry looked up sharply as a body appeared in front of him. He recognized her from one of the classes he'd taught that morning, the Bun-head. Very bright but very quiet had been his initial impression. He towered over her, but as he could see there was no one else around, he wondered…no. "I'm fine thanks. I just need to see Poppy for a moment."

"You don't need assistance then, sir?" Rhoswen noticed her Professor looked a little green.

Harry winced as he lost the hold he had on the wall and had to use his right leg to keep his balance up. The jarring of the limb caused jarring in more intimate muscles. Fuck! He'd be lucky if he made it the whole way without fainting. "No, I'm good. It's right up ahead. You should run along to your common room, yes?"

She nodded, thought she felt guilty about leaving Draco. Still, she had assignments to do, and it wasn't like she had any healing skills to help Draco with. She slipped down the hallway, glancing over her shoulder occasionally to see how Professor Potter was doing. By the time she reached the end of the corridor and looked back, it seemed like he hadn't moved at all.

xxxx

"Madam Pomfrey!" Harry called, a slight hint of a wince in his voice. The infirmary looked empty, and Harry was starting to think that maybe Poppy wasn't in tonight.

That would be very bad.

He was just about to sink to the floor and wallow in the misery of his twisted ah…issues, when he heard her voice come from the back. The mediwitch seemed a bit stressed. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Hold a moment!" Harry seated himself gently in a nearby chair and waited not-so-patiently for the witch to come and save him. He almost cried when she finally made her appearance. "Now, what seems to be the problem!" She asked absently before looking up and catching Harry in her gaze. "Oh my, Professor Potter. You're looking a little worse for wear, aren't you?"

"I don't doubt it." Harry wheezed.

"What's the problem?" Poppy looked over the young man and wondered what the little devil of a Slytherin had done to him to get him here. It figured a Slytherin would use physical harm as a roundabout means of getting someone to her infirmary instead of dropping a subtle verbal hint.

"I, ugh." Harry blushed. "I seem to have a bit of an i intimate /i injury."

Poppy gaped. No. That little girl wouldn't have done such a thing to a fully grown man, would she? No. Wait. This was Harry's first week at Hogwarts. Suddenly, everything made sense. "What kind of injury, Potter?"

Harry winced and pointed at his crotch. "It's um. Twisted?"

Poppy winced herself in sympathy. She pointed her wand at the affected area and watched Harry close his eyes while the tissue mended itself. "It should be better. Maybe not one hundred percent, but better." The young man's sigh of relief made her smile.

"You understand, it wasn't something I wanted to try and fix on my own?"

Poppy laughed. "Oh, I can understand why you might be hesitant to try."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Poppy. I'm sorry our first meeting back had to be like this." Harry fought the urge to massage his crotch.

"Sibyl was out on the prowl again?"

Harry's eyes widened. "You know!"

"Oh course, you think you're the first man to scorn her with the painful taint of rejection? You should have been here when Severus Snape came limping in all those years ago."

Harry laughed lightly, careful not to jostle his newly restored flesh too harshly. "I can just imagine." He sighed contentedly, trying to think of what else to say. A soft cough from the back rooms broke the comfortable silence. "Have a patient, do you?"

Poppy stilled. "Yes, one quite dire."

"That bad, eh? Worth sending to St. Mungo's?" Harry frowned, his eyebrows knitting in concern.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary." Or possible, she added mentally. She decided to take a frightful chance then, hoping she wouldn't have some strange hex to her person to contend with if she opened her mouth. "I don't suppose you got the file I left for you?" She mentally shook herself when nothing happened to her.

"File? Oh! Draco Malfoy's file." Harry frowned. "I haven't had the chance to look at it yet." He frowned. "That's what I was trying to do when my guest arrived."

Poppy nodded, but said nothing, though her eyes kept drifting back to the room behind her office.

"Wait." Harry stood up. "Draco's in here? The portraits didn't alert me."

Poppy sighed. "I doubt Albus has asked them that particular favor yet."

Harry frowned. Albus had been the one to tell him about the portraits. Why hadn't they alerted him to Draco's condition? "Well then, I must see Malfoy at once."

Poppy stopped him. She began to feel a slight tingle in her throat, but ignored it. This was too important. "How much do you know?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. So Poppy was in on Lucius' little scheme. "Enough."

"I somehow don't believe that." Poppy remembered her own initiation into the mystery of Draco Malfoy's illness, and how Lucius bloody Malfoy had kept her in the dark.

"What are you saying, Poppy?"

Poppy's hand flew to her throat, and she felt tears prickle her eyes. "Lucius Malfoy isn't what he seems, Harry. Go now, and find that damned file."

"What the hell's wrong Poppy?" He watched as the nurse began to cough violently.

"Harry! Get the damned file. NOW!"

Harry scuttled out of the infirmary and broke into a run once he reached the main corridor.

xxxx

"I need to bring back my son."

Severus Snape had come across a lot of strange things in his life, but when Lucius Malfoy had come to him, telling him some tall tale about how he was going to resurrect the child that he'd once allowed the Dark Lord to murder…well let's just say the he'd been a little thrown by the idea. Now, seated in his office at Hogwarts, he'd worked himself into a state over the entire ordeal.

Things were getting out of hand. Oleander Parkinson had just been in his office demanding to know if Draco was okay. Apparently, he'd rushed out of the dorm sometime around noon and hadn't been seen since. It hadn't taken much for Severus to surmise that Draco was in Poppy's care upstairs, and he'd reassured his student that Draco would be right as rain, he just needed to rest.

The trouble was, Severus couldn't bring himself to believe, or hope, that such a thing would ever be true. He'd forced himself to stay in the dungeon, aching with the knowledge that there really was nothing that he could do to help Draco. They'd tried everything…

Draco Malfoy was going to die. Again.

He'd come to love his Godson dearly, just as he had in the first true year of Draco's life. He'd always let Lucius Malfoy believe otherwise of course. As long as Lucius believed that Draco was little more than a nuisance to him, then everything would be fine. The last thing he needed was a self-righteous Malfoy on his ass thinking he was going to steal away his child. Draco was the closest thing Severus had to a child of his own, and truthfully, there was nothing that he wouldn't do to help the boy. He'd scoured every necromancy text the planet had to offer, and there was nothing. Not a single word. Severus looked helplessly at the bubbling cauldron tucked away in the corner. It was a revitalization potion. He'd been brewing the same potion, adding various ingredients over time to increase the strength, for sixteen long, painful years. Every time he was forced to brew another batch, his mind would drift back to the year of Draco's resurrection, and the choices that he'd made.

It was getting to the point where he was beginning to regret each and every single one of them.

"Why a resurrection, Lucius? Why can't Narcissa have another child?"

"You are well aware of the difficulties that we went through the first time."

Ah, yes. Narcissa Malfoy was a delicate beauty. She certainly wasn't made of the stuff that would produce strong, healthy children; especially given her lifestyle. One couldn't flounce about at parties all the time, mixing different concoctions while pregnant. Not that it had ever bothered Narcissa any. "Well then. I suggest you pay a visit to your lawyer to make the necessary arrangements for your cousin's sons to inherit your property."

"You know I will never allow that to happen." Lucius glare was frostier than a glacier.

Severus sighed. Of course he knew that. The Malfoy clan was notorious for their archaic pureblood values. Lucius' cousins were all contaminated with muggle blood. Only one section of the family line had truly remained pure, and look at what it had done for them? "Yes, I know. What are you proposing then?"

"I've been working on this project for several years. I'm convinced it will work this time."

This time? "You mean you've tried something before?"

Lucius nodded. "I started researching it when it became apparent that Narcissa would not be assisting me with a new heir."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Why not simply kill her and take a second wife?"

"I had thought of that, but Cissy is too perfect a specimen of the female race to destroy when I have other options. I need Draco back, Severus, and I need your help to do it."

"What is it you need from me?"

Lucius withdrew a small leather-bound book from his breast pocket. It was very old, and when given a second look, it appeared the book was not bound in leather after all, but the remnants of dried human flesh. Severus scowled. As if Lucius would ever read any NORMAL books. He didn't even want to imagine where Lucius had procured such a text. "There is a potion I need you to make. Two potions, actually. The first one is here," he pointed to one of the faded pages. "It's a reanimation potion. I need you to help me reanimate my son's body. I've already assembled the ingredients, but I needn't tell you that you are the only one I trust to brew it."

Severus nodded. The potion was complex, but certainly nothing he couldn't handle. The list of ingredients was quite awesome though. "And the second potion?"

"A simple variant on a nutrient replenishing potion." Lucius removed a piece of parchment and handed it over. "I'm willing to pay for your services as long as they're necessary."

Severus surveyed the parchment. The potion was ridiculously simple, and the ingredients were nothing special. "Are you certain that this will be necessary?"

"No. Actually, I'm hoping it won't. However, the research I've been doing is quite clear. There is a chance that the body won't be able to sustain the soul, and that potion is the only known remedy for keeping everything in check."

"Speaking of the soul, how are you proposing to find it?"

"I've hired a Necromancer to do that. All I need from you is the potions, and of course, your silence."

"Indeed."

Severus sipped gently from a glass of brandy, massaging his temple with his other hand. If only it had been that simple.

The Necromancer had known what she was doing, that was certain. They'd tried the ritual a total of six times without satisfactory results. Lucius had kept his infant sons corpse at Malfoy Manor under a simple charm that was used to keep food from spoiling. They'd pulled apart every known book they could find looking for the reason for their failure when Lucius had suggested something very off the wall.

He wanted to perform the ritual within the heart of the Ministry of Magic. He said he had a new idea for finding Draco's soul. Figuring that Halloween would be best, they'd planned to perform the ritual that evening. Everything had gone smoothly. They'd managed to portkey in, quite an accomplishment considering the wards, but Lucius had always been a master of portkeys. Some things were better left to the imagination, so Severus hadn't asked. Lucius had also arranged for a catastrophe to occur some distance away to keep the Aurors busy. He had then led them into the Department of Mysteries, and his hired Necromancer had squealed in delight when she had laid eyes on the tall, crumbling stone archway with its tattered black certain. She'd turned to Lucius then and whispered something that Severus hadn't caught. He'd been too busy struggling to hold his godson's body in his arms. He'd managed to do one better than Lucius had suggested. In all the time that they'd failed to retrieve Draco's soul, Severus had used potions, charms, even mild transfiguration, to get Draco's body into better shape than anyone ever expected. It just needed that one element that would restore Draco completely.

They'd set up the necessary elements for the ritual, and Severus had laid down the tiny body and stepped back. He was there only to observe, and administer and potions if necessary after the fact. He'd been rather proud of himself. The recipe Lucius had given him was fine for adult consumption, but Severus had managed to temper it to a safe level for use on children. He'd be willing to bet Lucius had never thought of that. He'd then watched, fascinated, as the Necromancer had cast a series of spells on herself. A glowing, ghostly anchor appeared, as well as several chains cast out of what appeared to be light. Ghostly apparitions of mechanisms used to hold. She made sure that they were secure, and then whispered something else to Lucius that Severus didn't hear.

She'd then walked through the tattered black curtain, and disappeared completely.

Everything had been fine, until that moment…

Nara Blunderspell was an accomplished Necromancer. She'd done time in Azkaban for her dark deeds in the 1970's, and had gone into hiding as soon as she was released. Lucius had found her though, and she was being paid a great deal to assist Malfoy with this endeavor, and Severus was silently praying that this time they would be successful. Everything was going smoothly, until Nara returned from behind the tattered veil…

With nothing to show for having been there save a very sickly physical disposition. "I couldn't find him."

"What do you mean, you couldn't find him? You weren't gone for very long. Of course you couldn't find him." Lucius snarled. "You have to go back."

"No, you don't understand, Mr. Malfoy. He should have come when I called him to me. He's afraid, because he doesn't know me. You'll have to go and retrieve him yourself."

Lucius laughed. "If you think I'm going to be stupid enough to wander into the afterlife, then you're crazy. I suggest you go back in and try again, or your fee will be forfeit."

Blunderspell looked helpless. "Sir, I cannot! I'm already worn out, and the holding spell will not support me for another go. Your son has no interest in coming to me."

Lucius cursed. He raised his wand and pointed it at the now terrified woman. "I'll give you one last chance-"

"Lucius don't be a fool!" Severus stepped forward. "She's the only one that can cast the anchoring spell."

"A lot of good it's going to do us if she won't use it to go and do her job." Lucius face was contorted in the usual snarl.

"I will go then." Severus said softly. "She can cast the spell on me, and I will go. If Draco will not come to me, then you will have to accept that this plan will not work, or try to call him yourself."

Lucius considered. "He will come to you then."

Blunderspell smiled weakly, and quickly cast the necessary charms. Severus felt a chilling air sweep over him as the chains took hold. "You mustn't doddle," the witch said. "When you start to warm up, you must leave immediately, or you won't be able to return. He nodded.

"He will come to you, Severus." Lucius was nodding to himself, staring blankly at the veil. "I know he will."

The Potions Master took a deep breath, and walked towards the mysterious veil. His heart was pounding a mile a minute in his chest, and he was cursing himself a fool with every step…

Severus sighed. His drink was gone. When he'd passed into the veil, he hadn't seen anything, not darkness, not light. It had been indescribable: a terrible nothingness that threatened to consume everything. He'd called his godson's name, and nothing had happened.

And then suddenly, he'd had an armful of playful, exuberant little boy.

"Uncle Sev'rus!" His heart had melted in that powerful moment and he'd looked into the joy-filled grey eyes with so much hope. "What are you doing here, Uncle Sev'rus?"

"I came to find you Draco, and take you home." Severus was surprised with the strength the child displayed when he began to squirm in his arms. "How old are you, Draco?"

The boy laughed. "I'm six, silly!"

Six years old. Had it really been that long? It couldn't be. "Do you want to see your parents again, Draco? They've sent me to find you."

Draco stilled. "If they wanted to find me, how come they didn't come? I don't wanna go back."

NO! They were so close. The boy had to return with him. "Please come back with me, Draco. Your parents love you very much."

"It's dark out there. I want to stay here."

"It's not dark anymore, Draco. It's safe now. Please come back with me?"

"Will it hurt?"

"No, I promise it won't." The man smiled when the child willingly gave up his hand. Without stopping, he pulled Draco along back the way he'd come, following the glowing chains until he could remember no more…

He's lied, of course. It had hurt. It had hurt Draco very much. Sixteen years of agony, and he'd cheated the poor child out of his happy afterlife. He'd handed him over to a father that didn't love him, as he'd promised, but simply used him as he would any other tool. Severus' only peace came from the fact that Draco didn't know any of this. As far as Draco was concerned he was simply a child born with unusual ailments in 1986, not a resurrected baby born and murdered years prior. Severus suddenly felt very old, and very broken. If he could have done things differently, there was no doubt in his mind that he'd have let go of six year old Draco's hand just before stepping across the veil. Certainly then, he could have prevented the suffering of not only Draco, but all those who wanted to desperately to help him, and couldn't. Merlin forbid if Draco every discovered the truth. Severus knew he wouldn't deserve to be forgiven.

xxxx