Kingsley's deep laugh reverberated through the office as Draco kept Harry upright.
"Still?" he asked, eyes sparkling.
"Never," Harry replied ruefully as he shook the Minister's hand, bringing more laughter from the large man. "Happy Christmas, Kingsley. I didn't expect to see you."
"I'm afraid I'm still just an Auror at heart," the Minister replied. "I couldn't resist coming myself. Besides," he added seriously, "you know not everyone has the same opinion of Malfoys as you or I. I thought this was the best way to avoid any…mishaps."
Harry nodded and stepped forward as Kingsley gestured them all toward the portkey.
"Everyone touching it? Someone got a good hold on Harry?" Draco smirked, Harry rolled his eyes, and Kingsley chuckled. "Right then, three, two, one, portus."
They landed (Harry again held upright, to his burning shame) on a rocky beach, buffeted by a cold wind. Grey stone walls faced them, wet with salt spray, and the rushing sound of wind was occasionally broken by the high screams and manic laughter of the insane. Draco clutched his hand with white knuckles, and Harry returned the pressure, hoping against hope to be able to stay strong.
Kingsley ushered them silently through the door and to the wand-checking station, where the combined cold glare from him and Harry wiped the sneer from the face of the attending Auror-Guard as Narcissa and Harry surrendered their wands. The Minister was allowed his, and, of course, Draco was not permitted to carry one yet. Narcissa shivered, and Harry let go of Draco to drape his own cloak around her.
That was the moment when the first Dementor passed, before Kingsley had a chance to cast his lynx Patronus. As the chill crept into Harry's bones in a way he had not felt in years, he felt his balance waver. Then, he was lost to the memories, like he was every time since his first encounter at thirteen.
His father's voice came first, telling his mother to run; the Sirius was falling through the Veil and Remus was holding him back; Remus and Tonks laid out among the dead on the floor of the Great Hall, with Fred and Colin and Lavender, and Snape dying in the Shrieking Shack; pain licked along his nerves and burned across his chest, the memory of torture in the basement of Riddle House, and Theo lay dead in the graveyard, eyes open to the stars, the first one he had ever truly loved; blood pooled on the floor around him as he stared into Draco's shocked silver eyes, a choking gasp that echoed in the tiny space and would never stop ringing in his ears; then his mother screamed and Voldemort laughed and everything fell into blackness…
It was the Minister who caught Harry. Draco had forgotten the events of their third year, when the Dementors came to Hogwarts and Harry nearly fell to his death, but Shacklebolt had not. As soon as he felt the chill, he leaped towards Harry to cushion him before he hit the stone below. Only after he had Harry in his arms did he cast his Patronus, some sort of big cat. It had happened so quickly Draco and his mother had barely had time to feel the chill set in.
But they didn't have Harry's past, or his memories.
As Shacklebolt directed his Patronus, Draco took hold of Harry, shaking him lightly, but Harry didn't wake until the Dementor was out of sight entirely and the air had gained back its fractional warmth. Haunted green eyes stared up at him, burning with shame and anger and pain that no one living could ever understand.
"Alright, Harry?" the Minister asked, offering up a Chocolate Frog from a deep pocket.
"Will be," Harry croaked. "Probably not until I get home, but I will be." He shook his head at the frog and hugged Draco close instead. Narcissa and Shacklebolt looked away studiously in an attempt to give them some sort of privacy. Harry buried his face in his neck. "It's gotten worse," he said in an emotionless voice. "One Patronus is only enough to bring me back to consciousness, it doesn't stop the memories."
After a moment he stepped back, turning to the Minister with a smirk.
"What are the chances you'll allow me to cast my own Patronus, Kingsley?" he asked. Shacklebolt looked askance at him.
"You know I can't allow you to carry a wand inside the prison," he said ruefully, but Harry's expression didn't change.
"And if I could do it without a wand?"
"Ah," the Minister smiled. "Then I might just be surprised and impressed enough to forget myself and allow it, as the rules for wandless magic are remarkably open to interpretation."
Harry cupped his hands in front of him, and silver light poured from the cracks in his fingers. Shacklebolt watched in fascination, Narcissa in wonder. Harry's eyes flicked up to meet Draco's shining with love, and he opened his palms to gently blow the light from them.
Glittering silver flowed from his hands, spinning and growing until it formed the shape of a huge dragon. Shacklebolt whistled appreciably as the Horntail Patronus rubbed the side of its scaly head against Harry's chest, then turned sinuously to press its snout to Draco's forehead. Draco gasped at the feeling of joy and love that rushed into him.
"Merlin…" Narcissa whispered.
"Indeed, yes," the Minister agreed. "Right, well, now that that's sorted out, shall we proceed?"
Harry's Patronus was a thing of beauty, winding its way through the damp stone halls and around their little group. It radiated love and joy, so much that Narcissa walked with spring in her step and Dementors fled before them. Even the prisoners, some of them lost in their madness, smiled faintly as it passed them.
When they stopped in front of Lucius's cell, the great dragon took up a place behind them, looming over Harry and protecting his back. It struck Draco again how protective Harry was, to his core, and how little people deserved his protecting.
But then the Minister unlocked the door and Draco found himself with much more pressing concerns.
Harry braced himself at the door to Lucius's cell. The reaction of the man inside could pretty much make or break him and his relationship with Draco. He let go of Draco's hand, ignoring the odd look he received, and stepped through to stand just behind him.
Lucius looked as awful as any Azkaban prisoner would be expected, but he stood straight and tall as he met them. Harry noted his composed face and was glad he had not lost his pride at always maintaining an appearance of strength. Harry himself was intimately familiar with the practice of never giving away a weakness.
He was even happier to note that he had lost the brunt of his cold demeanour, he decided, watching the man hold his wife tightly in his arms.
"Merry Christmas, Lucius," she said in a slightly choked voice.
"Narcissa," he replied softly, his tone so full of love that it made Harry embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable to watch, like a private reunion between lovers. Then he stretched out a hand to Draco, who stuttered out his own greeting, and pulled him in with one arm, and it made Harry's heart swell and his Patronus shine even brighter to see the three of them together.
Judging by the way Lucius's eyes widened, Harry figured he must have made quite the sight, standing there with a great bloody dragon wrapped around him, his hand on its scaly crest. He knew it took a lot of power to make a Patronus tangible, but apparently he'd again underestimated how rare his own ability was. He sighed.
"Lord Malfoy," he greeted pleasantly, dipping his head a bit and extending his head. Lucius eyed him for a moment before letting go of Draco to take it. Narcissa's hand remained firmly in his.
"Mr Potter," he returned, remaining ramrod straight.
"Lucius, dear…" Narcissa began, no doubt to correct him on the proper title, but Harry waved it away with a smile. Though, he purposefully waved the hand with the Potter ring (he only wore the Gryffindor ring when dealing with the Wizengamot, the hierarchical bastards) on it, pleased when Lucius's eyes flicked down to it briefly.
"It seems I have made a mistake, Lord Potter," he said, somewhat coolly.
"No insult was meant or taken," Harry replied, and Lucius accepted his forgiveness with a rather stiff shallow bow.
"I have a great deal to thank you for, Lord Potter," he began. Harry let him speak, noticing the tension around his mouth and knowing an interruption would not be taken well. "I gather it was your influence among the Wizengamot that greatly reduced my…stay here, as well as allowed me this visit. I must also thank you for keeping my son out of a similar…unpleasant situation. I must admit myself in your debt."
"The only repayment I wish is for you and your family to be happy. I will not even demand your gratitude, though I will accept it freely given. It pleases me to use my place in the Wizengamot for what I perceive as right." The formal, political way of speaking felt heavy on his tongue, stiff and uncomfortable as starched pants. Harry despised it, but he knew he needed it now. Lucius Malfoy was the kind of man to judge worth very quickly, and Harry needed to leave a good impression, to impress him, if he wanted to have any hope of a good relationship with the man he would hopefully one day be related to.
"Very well," Lucius's eyes lingered on the dragon Patronus, flicking for just an instant to his son. "To what do I owe this visit from you, Lord Potter?" Harry looked at Draco too, who nodded and stepped forward to his (dragon free) side and took his hand, linking their fingers together.
"Harry asked to come with me, Father," Draco said in a voice stronger than Harry had expected it to be, "since we decided to spend our first Christmas as a family." Lucius tensed even further (which Harry hadn't thought was possible), but Narcissa spoke first.
"We all had a lovely time this morning at the Manor."
To anyone else, it might have sounded like an inane statement to make then, but they all recognised it for what it was: Narcissa's show of support and warning to her husband not to speak rashly. Lucius looked down at her with a small frown.
"Lord Potter, could I have a moment to speak with my family?"
"Of course," Harry replied. He stepped out, passing Kingsley as he stood inconspicuously in the corner, who nodded to him. The dragon Patronus settled down by the door, probably so it could give the greatest amount of protection to him and the family inside the cell. Harry himself leaned against the wall beside it, letting the coldness of the stone sink into his skin, and tried not to worry.
It didn't work very well.
"Draco," Lucius began, and Draco fought down the urge to beat his head off the stone wall beside him. "What are you doing? You are involved with the person who has custody over you. With a man!"
"Father," he broke in, "with all due respect, I don't think you understand." Lucius puffed up, but Draco hurried on before he could speak. "I know exactly what I am doing. I'm doing what makes me happy. No offense, Father, but I think I can tell what makes me happy better than you can."
There was heavy silence in the little cell as Draco dared, for the first time in his life, to stand up to his father. Lucius seemed to tower over him, even in his gaunt form, draped with ragged prison robes, but Draco didn't back down. He remembered when Reggie called him 'Father' for the first time, when he heard Harry tell Ginevra why he loved him. He thought about the quiet mornings when they both lay in bed without talking, just watching the sun rise over London, and he stared his father in the eye.
Lucius gave a tiny nod, and the tension dissipated. Still waiting on the inevitable confrontation, Draco was shocked when his father smiled instead and Narcissa leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Very well, Draco," he conceded. Draco frowned.
"Father?"
"I'll not fight you on this," Lucius explained. "You have finally become a man, and if it takes Harry Potter to make you stand up for yourself, then so be it. Besides," he squeezed Narcissa's hand and looked down at her, "I haven't seen your mother so happy in many years, and that can only be because of your own happiness."
"I…thank you, Father," he stumbled out, still a bit shocked.
"I still have my reservations, of course," Lucius added, and no one was surprised at that. "Potter is very different from us. He was raised differently, and I do not think he will adapt easily to our world. And then there is the problem of heirs to consider, if you two decide to make your relationship permanent."
"Lucius, dear," Narcissa cut in softly, her voice endlessly polite but strong as steel, "Lord Potter is the most influential member of the Wizengamot, and only part of that comes from his war hero status."
Lucius raised a questioning eyebrow at her, but Draco motioned that he would explain. Going to the door of the cell, he dragged a confused Harry back inside by the hand.
"Father, I would like you to meet Lord Harrison Potter, Earl of Gryffindor and Lord of many other Houses besides," he said pompously, but he grinned at Harry, "and the man I am in love with." Harry smiled back at him, taking his hand. The dragon Patronus that had followed him glowed even brighter. "Harry, I would like to formally introduce you to my father, Lord Lucius Malfoy of the House of Malfoy."
"It is an honour to meet your Lordship," Harry said to Lucius, who appeared to be struck dumb.
Draco was happy that his father stood back and seemed to take Harry in again. He knew his lover struck an imposing picture with his straight back and piercing gaze, not to mention the bloody dragon Patronus looming behind him. Draco was proud to stand beside such a strong and independent man, and he hoped it showed when his father looked at him.
"A pleasure to meet you to, Lord Potter," Lucius decided, extending his hand again. When they shook, there was a sense in the tiny cell of the dawn of a new age, that the war might finally be behind them all.
"There is still the matter of heirs, Draco." Harry almost grinned at the return of the Lucius he had expected.
"With all due respect, sir," he interrupted, "there are ways to produce an heir between two magicals without need of a woman. They are Olde Magick, sir, and perfectly safe."
Draco squeezed his hand. Harry wanted to say more, wanted to show Lucius the same trust he had shown Narcissa, but he didn't quite have the trust to show yet, and there was the matter of Kingsley standing in the corner, required to listen to everything they said.
"I can still have a son to carry the Malfoy name," Draco assured his father. "What's more, I can have him with Harry. We can be like any other couple that has children together."
Harry could see the definite softening in Lucius's manor as his last hesitation was swept away. His shoulders finally relaxed, and he smiled at Harry.
"Well then. Lord Potter, I look forward to getting to know you," he said sincerely. Harry gave him a little bow in response.
"As do I, sir," he slid his arm around Draco's waist as the blond pressed a kiss to his cheek. "As do I."
They passed the remainder of the visit talking pleasantly. Lucius seemed especially interested in news from the Wizengamot and the recent Midwinter Court, which Harry happily provided. He was impressed by the reforms Harry had gotten through, congratulating him on pulling the traditionalist court into the modern age a step, even if it was kicking and screaming.
When the time came to leave, sad goodbyes were said all around. As Harry shook Lucius's hand once again, his dragon Patronus approached. During the visit it had stayed behind Harry, though it was large enough to wrap around all their backs. Now, it came up level with Lucius and circled him, studying him the same way it had studied Draco when he had come to Grimmauld Place.
Lucius looked curiously back, turning his head to follow its silent movements. As it crouched in front of him again, it mimed a snort of acceptance and nodded to him, then opened its mouth and breathed out a transparent silver cloud, making Lucius glitter for an instant before it disappeared.
If anyone else noticed the way Harry was clutching at Draco in shock, they made no sign of it. Lucius closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them again, there was a light in them that had been missing before. The little lines of tension vanished.
"A truly impressive Patronus, Lord Potter," he said softly, giving a real bow from his waist. "Thank you."
Kingsley finally managed to usher them out of the cell and back down the hallways to collect their wands. No one spoke, but they all tended to gather near Harry's Patronus, while Kingsley's lynx went on ahead.
It was a silent process to get their wands back, portkey back to the Ministry and Floo from their back to Malfoy Manor.
When Draco went to find Charlie and the boys, Narcissa turned to Harry.
"What did you do to my husband?" she asked softly. Harry shook his head in confusion.
"It was me that did it," he explained. "The dragon represents another part of myself that's very protective. It just gives a form to that part of me." He didn't add that that part was his dragon Animagus form, but it was true. An Animagus's form was tied to the witch or wizard, but it was effectively another creature sometimes, and dragons were very independent animals. "I think it shared some of the love it was made up of with him." He shrugged. "It liked him, and it wanted to make him happy."
Narcissa smiled at him.
"I'm glad. It's made me happy, too."
Harry kissed her cheek in return.
"Merry Christmas, Narcissa."
"Merry Christmas, Harry, dear."
