Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and the licensed copyright holders including Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros., Inc. No money has been exchanged and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Wow, I didn't think the last was really cliff-hangerish, but I guess I was wrong huh...okay well don't slaughter me yet, we're almost to the end and you won't know what happens next if you kill me. Thank you all for the lovely reviews! And for sticking with me through this story and putting up with chronically short chapters (but I already explained about that). I've really had a fantabulous time with this story and I hope you're still enjoying it. Standard warnings apply...see ya!
12.
With tears in her eyes Hermione turned to her best friend, "After all your time together that's what you told him? Harry how could you?"
Harry shook his head, "I was trying to protect him!"
"You did a fine job of it too," came a sneering voice from the doorway.
"Miss Vaughn, I don't think—"
"Shut up. It's quite obvious the lot of you don't think. Do you have any idea how long we've been working to get Bad Faith to tour venues in Britain? All of us have ties here and sure we visit and that's nice. But we wanted the chance to show our families and friends just how far we've come, how good we are together, how phenomenal our music is. Draco is a big part of that, but no matter how we couched it, he couldn't face whatever daemons chased him away from here."
"Let me tell you something about Draco Malfoy, since you seem to think he's so arrogant and high and mighty," she snarled at Ron. "He came to New York with little more than the shirt on his back. Slept in city parks and subways for months, ate scraps from soup kitchens, from rubbish bins, just to fucking survive. A damn hero of your bloody war and he was thrown away like so much used trash, and by the time he was able to get any sort of help he believed that was all he was—worthless garbage.
The final straw, he'd scraped up some money and was trying to do the right thing only he gets mugged by some street thugs and was left for dead. If it weren't for Melody and Alistair he would have miscarried and died from internal haemorrhage. It took a long time for him to get healthy. And he never talked about his past, but sometimes at night you'd walk by his room and hear the most pitiful, heartbreaking cries 'Harry I'm sorry. Harry don't leave me. Harry I love you. Don't you love me Harry? Why couldn't you just love me?'" she sneered at them as she mimicked a pleading voice, "And the next day he'd go on helping out, working twice as hard as everyone else to get the band off and running. It fucking broke my fucking heart that such a beautiful man was brought so low."
Rhiannon shook her head and dashed her tears away, "He fucking lives for Evan. You'd think that'd make Evan spoiled or selfish, but Draco is so patient with him, shows him so much of the world and so much love. He teaches that boy more than the facts of what he needs to know, he's teaching him to be the kind of child who has a gentle, kind heart as well as a keen mind. You three come waltzing in here with your self-righteousness and your judgements, your attitudes and your self-pity and expect him to what? Bend over backwards for you? I'm not going to stand here and let him be treated like rubbish in his own home!"
Rhi's tears fell faster, "I bloody well should've listened to him when he said he couldn't come back here. 'There's only bitterness and heartache for me there Rhi,' I should have listened but I didn't and now he has to pay for my bloody mistake. But let me make one thing very clear to you Mr. Harry Bloody 'Saviour of Wizarding Britain' Potter," Rhi's voice was glacial, "if you make a move to gain custody of Evan or hurt Draco in any way Bad Faith will disband, we will layer protective spells over the two of them the like you have never seen, and we will fucking disappear. Draco and Evan are my family and nobody fucks with my family. We clear on this?"
Just as Harry nodded, a small and frantic voice echoed through the corridor, "MAMA RHI! COME QUICK PLEASE! PAPA'S SICK!"
Five adults scurried into the hall to answer the frightened boy's summons. Harry stepped around a middle age witch and nodded. She obviously was a professional and went right in to attend Draco. He motioned for Ron to get his emergency bag from Hermione's boot then dropped down in a squat to face his son for the first time.
"Evan, pet, I need you to tell me how long your Papa's been sick."
Evan's breath hitched he was obviously fighting a loosing battle with his tears. Harry snatched him up in a fierce hug and sat them on the large bed. "It's okay to cry Evan, but to help your Papa I need to know how long he's been feeling bad."
Evan wiped his tears away and looked up at his Dad. "Just now, he came in a little while ago. He thought I was sleeping but I was awake. He went in the bathroom and started crying and throwing up. He's been throwing up a lot lately."
"Evan honey, why didn't you say anything?"
"He said it wasn't a big deal Mama Rhi. He said it was just nerves, but I went to check on him and he was throwing up lots and lots of blood and then he passed out and I called you."
"You did well Evan," Harry nodded, "but you should have told Rhiannon or one of the other adults sooner. Your Dad—"
Evan scowled. "He's not my Dad. He's my Papa. You're my Dad, aren't you?" He accused angrily.
Harry smiled grimly, "That I am, but let's talk about your Papa right now; he tends to think that it's not important when he's hurting. So the people who love him have to watch him sometimes to make sure he's not doing too much or hasn't hurt himself."
Evan sighed, "I know…" He sniffed and rubbed his face against Harry's shirt, "Sometimes I wish I was bigger so he would have to listen to be when I tell him he works too hard."
Harry shook his head, "It doesn't matter what size you are pet; your Papa is hard-headed. He'd push himself just as hard if you were 17 and not 7. Tell me has he been sick like this before? Throwing up sick?"
Evan nodded sadly, "Since we decided to tour here and it's getting worse. The longer we stay here the more he throws up."
Harry closed his eyes and rocked his son in his arms. There was so much he'd missed out on, so much he wanted to say, to learn about Evan and Draco's life. But it could all wait now. Hermione stepped out of the bathroom pale-faced followed by Draco's lithe form on a conjured stretcher with Melody bringing up the rear. He cocked a brow at the worried women.
Hermione shook her head, "It's bad Harry, two maybe three aggravated bleeding stomach ulcers that have gone untreated for far too long." She glared at Melody. "His regular exams should have caught it but Melody, she's the band's medi-witch, said Draco's exams have always been sporadic and he's missed his annual over the last couple of years. He needs more than what a couple of medi-witches and a medi-wizard can do here. I've sent to St. Mungo's and they're sending someone with a medical transportportkey right away. We can't apparate him in this condition."
Harry nodded, "I'm coming with you then."
Rhiannon stepped between them, "I don't think Draco should be anywhere alone with you or anyone else from his past. Melody and I should go."
Harry's mouth thinned to a hard line. "Are you a medi-witch Rhiannon? No? And Melody what level are you?"
"Healer level 6," she replied neutrally.
"Hermione is an 8. I am a 9. You are more than welcome to come along for moral support but when it comes to medical decisions about what's best for Draco. Don't get any ideas that you'll be making them." He said firmly.
Ron standing by the door with Harry's medical bag nodded at the young boy on the bed with his best friend. "What about the kid Harry?"
Harry glared at Ron. "My son comes with me. He has more of a right than anyone in this room to know what's happening with Draco."
Outside they could hear the transport siren and Hermione and Melody levitated the stretcher out to meet the emergency medical team. Harry let Evan go long enough for him to change into a light jumper, jeans, socks and trainers and turned his attention to Rhiannon. "Tonight's going to be busy, but he won't be able to have visitors until at least tomorrow afternoon. You should get some rest and let the others know what's happened. I can ring or fire-call you from the hospital."
Rhiannon sighed, "Alright that makes sense." She turned to his son, "Evan grab your Papa's satchel, the mobile is in there show your Dad how to use it and make sure he calls me every few hours okay?"
Evan nodded, "Yes Mama Rhi." He grabbed the satchel beside the bedroom's desk and handed it up to Harry who slipped it over his shoulder.
"Evan do you have apack with things to do in it?"
The boy nodded. "Why don't you stuff an extra change of clothes in there and bring it along too. Rhiannon while he's getting that together I need an overnight bag for Draco, including pyjamas." He attempted a smile but it came out as more of a grimace, "He's always hated hospital pyjamas, says they're too scratchy."
"The linen count's too low," Evan piped in from his dresser.
Harry chuckled, "Exactly."
Ron rolled his eyes, "Careful there mate, he's turning your son into poncey snob."
Evan wheeled around stormed over to Ron and kicked him hard in the shin, the child was red with rage and turning colour rapidly, "You moronic, ignominious, fool! Keep talking shit you—you pathetic jelly-headed-simpleton and I'll hex you so bad you'll wish you were dying! I don't know who you are but where the bloody hell do you get off being so self-righteous and denigrating? You are a pathetic arrogant ignoramus with nothing better to do than defame other people's character and denigrate their experience. You know nothing about me or my father so you should shut your cake hole. My Papa is sick and you're still poking fun at him and me. You should be ashamed of yourself you-you-you miserable excuse for a wizard! You-you pitiful cretin!"
After his little tirade left all the room's adults gaping he kicked Ron's remaining shin hard then launched himself into his Dad's lap and started crying. Harry glared at Ron then waved Evan's rucksack over. Well it was obvious where his son had picked up his penchant for insulting vocabulary, and damn he wished he'd had a recording cube. They'd have to do something about the cussing though. And he couldn't wait to tell Fred and George about Ron's little altercation with Evan.
Cowed by a child mate, they're going to razz you 'til next year. Serves you right too.
Actually, he wished he could be a fly on the wall when Mum Weasley went to apply the Bruise-Away salve.
He calmed himself and brought his focus back to the here and now, stroked his son's hair then whispered in his ear, "Do you have everything you need pet?"
He shook his head then scrambled over the bed. "I need Salazar. I can't leave Salazar." He scurried back to Harry, a plushy lion who'd seen better days in hand. At his father's disbelieving look he huffed. "Salazar's a much cooler name than Godric," he said simply.
Harry chuckled. Then looked to the room's other occupants, "He has a point it is a much cooler name. We're going to apparate to St. Mungo's. Ron you might as well head home since we won't be back. Rhiannon thanks for the bag for Draco, I'll ring but I probably won't see you until tomorrow afternoon."
They each nodded and with a loud crack Harry and his son were gone.
Tbc...
