Harry Potter: Dark Lord, Loving Father

Chapter 13: Concerning the Clarity of Vision

It was summer.

The air outside of the Malfoy manor looked deadly, just looking through the windows. It was driving Raphael Smith insane. He was currently stuck with Professors Malfoy and Potter, and their sons, Albus and Scorpius. How did he manage to land himself in this situation, one might wonder?

Well, he wasn't all too sure of the answer, himself.

At first, he was just working with the two of them, when his father blocked the floo to the house, writing to Raphael that since it was just his brother and sister at the house, he was keeping it closed, to prevent anyone unwanted coming in. The Slytherin boy knew that there was a way for a floo to be configured so that only certain people could get into the house – it was just that his father wasn't really thinking about the whole thing before he set the whole thing up. So, now, he was going to be stuck at the Malfoy's place for the whole summer, since his parents were off vacationing somewhere even hotter than Europe. Which, as Raphael thought, was a rather insane thing to do, considering that it was the middle of the summer.

He was going into his seventh and final year at Hogwarts in September, which he was somewhat looking forward too. Although he wasn't all too pleased about loosing nearly the entire Slytherin quidditch team, except for two fourth years, which made him the captain next year, giving him the responsibility to have recruit a number of new members, who he'd then have to train. At least there was still a good seeker on the team, still....

"Hey, Smith," Scorpius called to him in a drawl, as was the norm.

Apparently, the boy didn't quite like him, for whatever reason. They were only a year apart, yet why was there such animosity between them? Albus didn't mind him, no matter how out of place he might've seemed in Slytherin. After all, his brother and sister, both, were in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin, which singled him out at home, to begin with. Much as Albus had been singled out by his siblings, who were both in Gryffindor, while Al was in Slytherin – strangely similar, he might note.

On the other hand, Professors Potter and Malfoy didn't mind his presence; in fact, they were very pleased to know that Albus and Scorpius would be getting tutored for their summer homework by a very capable person.

Being bookish in Slytherin, in Raphael's experience, meant that he was to help everyone who was having any sorts of troubles with their homework assignments, no matter how large a volume. Raph resented this enormously – to the point of ditching these meeting for the library, only to get a mouth-full from his peers when he returned to the common room. Only was it when Professor Malfoy became the head of Slytherin that he wasn't retaliated against nearly as much.

"Yeah, Malfoy?" Raphael returned, tucking his shoulder-length auburn hair behind his ear, not looking up from the book he was browsing.

Malfoy delayed his reply, sitting down next to the larger Slytherin on the sofa. "Why aren't you in Ravenclaw, like your siblings?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"I might have told you this before, but apparently, I'm much more crafty than the rest of my family," the Slytherin beater told the blonde, still not even bothering to look up, his lips quirked into a side-ways grin.

Scorpius scowled, folding his arms against his chest, letting out an agitated breath. "That was a rather sarcastic answer, Smith," was all he said.

Raphael caught him rolling his eyes when he finally put the book down, marking his place, setting it on the small table to the side. "I sense that you're wondering why I'm so friendly with Albus Potter, then?" the redhead inquired, raising his eyebrows, pushing up his metal-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose as he assessed the blonde boy.

Flushing ever so slightly, Scorpius nodded, scowling even harder, doing his damnedest not to catch Smith's eye. Which, seemed to be a futile endeavour, as the older Slytherin merely chuckled – his voice deep and amused – gaining the Malfoy's gaze.

"I suppose it's because of the likeness of our situations," Raphael explained, all humour gone from his eyes, the smirk now suggesting a certain irony in what he was about to say. "After all, we both have siblings that markedly very much not Slytherin, and both Albus and I have gotten ourselves sorted into the house of snakes. Much to our siblings' and parent's chagrin." There was a short pause, in which, Raphael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, slowly letting the air from his lips. "At least, Albus has a father that is willing to see reason," he breathed, the smirk now turning into a sharp, bitter downward turn of the corners of his mouth.

Catching the anger in Smith's eyes, Scorpius became rather unsure of what to say – even slightly afraid to move – not wanting to offend the other Slytherin in any manner possible, even accidentally.

"Sorry," Raphael added, shaking the off ferocity in his expression, falling into a much more neutral expression. "I shouldn't take up your time with trivial things as my situation may present." Standing, then straightening his robes, Kaleb Raphael paced to the other side of the room. "Perhaps we should work on that essay you have for Charms? It's not as if there's much better to do with someone like me, anyway, yes?"

For having such a neutral expression and tone of voice, Raphael's words stung Scorpius, causing the Malfoy to take a minute in regathering his thoughts. "It's not as if you're unimportant, Smith – it's just, I don't know you. And the way you come across..." he began, searching for words, frantically, desperately not wanting to cause any more damage than he already had in the past. "You come across as someone who's rather unapproachable, that's all."

Taken aback, the redhead cocked his head, staring at Scorpius, not sure if he heard what he thought he did. "You mean to say that you'd rather associate with such an outcast?" he hissed, eyes narrowing behind the glasses. "Listen to me, Malfoy," the Smith addressed, striding towards Scorpius, looking him directly in the eyes. "The reason that I come across that way is because I've learned my lesson in Slytherin: the other snakes often only wish to prey on you when you show some weakness. And you are very much like many of those who I've become a victim of, and I'd much rather not to repeat the experience, if you don't mind."

And with that, the taller teen left the room, shutting the door soundly behind him.

Scorpius honestly didn't know what to make of that exchange, if he were to be frank.

–

Looking up at the sky, despite how horridly hot it was outside, Raphael felt his tension and unease from his encounter with Malfoy easing away. Slowly closing his eyes as the breeze toyed with his auburn locks, twisting the ends into knots, as he lay in the cool green grass, Raph finally felt as if the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving him alone in this slightly warm (but not as unbearable as he'd first thought) paradise that was the Malfoy's back yard lawn.

It was going to be a long summer. And it'd only been two weeks since the start of it.

After what seemed an eternity, Raphael was only disturbed by the appearance of someone sitting next to him on the grass. First, he thought it was Al, closing his eyes again, but as he mentally processed the image, he realized that it wasn't. Quite the opposite, in a way – it was Professor Potter – which was a shock in and of itself, to say the least.

"Professor!," he managed to get out, sitting up quickly, holding himself up with his arms, hair messy and disordered. His clothes were in a similar state as his hair, as was expected, he noted to himself as he began analysing the situation he found himself in.

"Don't be so shocked, Mr. Smith," Harry told him, grinning, his goatee framing the expression classically, although it gave a hint of some darker, deeper intention. And Harry's own longer ebony hair was slowly becoming tangled in the wind, too; his casual clothes already somewhat of a mess to begin with. "Do you mind if I call you by Raphael?"

The composure of the Defence professor was calm and pleasant compared to the other's he'd faced in the past few months, especially his parents. And Scorpius Malfoy, that was for certain.

"Yes, that would be fine, sir."

"It's summer hols," the man complained, frowning rather playfully, which soon turned back into a mischievous grin (concerning which, Raphael had a hard time assessing what the source was) as he continued, "I want you to call me Harry, if you so desire – it wouldn't be very relaxing to have someone call me 'sir' or 'professor' all break, would it?"

Nodding after a few seconds, Raphael replied: "I suppose," a little uncertainly, doing his best to give a smile back to his teacher.

Squinting, Harry moved his focus to the heavens, which were adorned with a brightly lit spinning ball of hydrogen, threatening to burn his eyes and his now very pale skin. (Raphael allotted this to the man's sickness during the year, as well as the continued residence in the castle, tending to keep inside, rather than going outside; covering up in long sleeves and charming his glasses dark when he did manage to find himself outside the school.)

As if this action had been a way of testing the sun, Harry announced: "I think we should retreat to some shade – it's going to get dreadfully hot in a few minutes, Raphael."

Their eyes met – a brilliant dark green behind darkened glasses meeting sapphire blues – for a split-second, followed by the professor's rise from the grass, dusting the loose leaves of grass off of his pants, then striding over to the patio area, which was heavily shaded. Raphael lingered behind a little, dusting himself off a bit slower than his elder, but eventually came under the shade that was provided by a canvas-like material stretched across four metal rods. Sighing, Harry uncharmed his glasses, grinning once more, his gaze trained on Raphael, now.

"Tell me," he started, the green in his eyes darkening rapidly, sending a warning flag off to Raphael, who had first written it off to the different lighting. "How many of your previous professors told you how impressed they were of how much power you're capable of? It's such a waste, trying to hide it with as large of a body as your own. At least, it's futile to hide it from me, Raphael," Harry told him rather off-handedly, the grin turning into a rather creepy smile.

Somehow, the Smith found himself unable to tear his gaze from Harry's, even though he was screaming at himself, knowing that this was a trap of some sort. It was certain that Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, was somewhat skilled at Legimens, at the very least. Who knew all that the man had a potential of. And it was this person who was praising him? Raphael couldn't get his mind around this, especially.

Harry broke the stare, chuckling darkly, his face resetting back into the loose grin from earlier. "You're an interesting young man, Raphael," he voiced, shrugging his shoulders. "Your parents – your father, in particular – doesn't take well to your hobbies, does he? Dark Arts, researching Dark rituals? It's a shame, though," Harry told him, his voice trailing off as he ran his hands through his wavy locks.

As the professor's eyes meandered back onto Raphael, the younger suddenly felt as if he was obligated to say something in response.

"I..." he spluttered, lost for words, although he was so usually composed and assertive, always having ample phrasings to chose from (usually choosing what would sting the most). "I can't understand how you know about this, sir – I mean, Harry."

"That's fine."

It was reassuring to hear Harry's calm, deep voice appealing to him in such a manner. Although Raphael couldn't quite place what was off about the whole thing. This reassurance, however, put him at ease once more, relaxing him physically.

"Only, I don't mean to report you, Raphael. I want to know if you'd be willing to help me with a little project of mine...."

It's been a while, hasn't it? I've chosen a different perspective, as I couldn't think much of anything for Harry or Draco, so I decided to revisit a seemingly unimportant character from many chapters previous. You didn't forget about Raphael, did you? For those who know me and Raphael well, I've changed him to better suit this fanfiction's purposes.

Also, I now have a rotation for the updates of the different stories I'm writing, in this order: Dark Lord, WAITS, Mirrors and Shadows. There's a poll up on my profile, for those of you interested, by the way.

Thank you very kindly for the reviews and the questions -- again, they're all welcomed and answered. Surprisingly, I did this all on my own. Hah.