A/N: This chapter is short, but I've been taking a really long time and I wanted to get something out for you guys. It's kind of like Chapter 15 part A. I'll try to hurry with the next bit.

Thank you GypsyJade, Saavik 13, CrimsonTearsofPain, StaarryGazer, Chara13, Celonsoren13, AniD, ura-hd, Purple Raveness, Crystal, HP Girl 28, Avain, FairyPoet, and alliekatgal.

Harry had not been to the manor in nearly a week. Nor had he replied to any of the customary letters Sebastian and his friends had sent expressing their "distinct pleasure" in making Harry's acquaintance. Nor had he even opened the envelope addressed to him in elegant, vaguely Gothic handwriting that reminded him in a very unpleasant way of Draco.

At first, he had thought that the reason he had been so adverse to corresponding with anyone he had seen during that dinner was because he was still fuming at Lucius. However, that delusion only lasted halfway until the second day, when he realized that he really wasn't angry with anyone except himself.

Then he tried to tell himself that he was simply ashamed a how horribly rude he had been and that Draco would kill him if the blonde had been able to see what Harry had done with the hours Draco spent trying to drill some sense of delicacy into his head. Yes, Harry had behaved very poorly. However, Harry soon came to realize that shame wasn't the issue. And Draco simply would have told him in no uncertain terms how hopeless he was.

In order to avoid compounding the issue, he jots quick, polite replies to the notes he had received, being particularly careful when responding to Michael's surprisingly warm note. It appears that Lucius was correct and the younger man is not holding a grudge against him… Or that he is simply demonstrating his superior manners. Harry resists the urge to mutter "show-off" under his breath, reasoning that he really is getting too old to be that juvenile.

Lucius' envelope goes unopened.

On the fifth day, Harry's predominant line of thought is something along the lines of "How the hell did I manage to live this long and be this stupid?" Staring hard at the innocuous white envelope, Harry comes to grip with the real reason he hasn't opened it: fear. Because of his thoughtlessness, the last time he had words with Lucius had come out as a thinly veiled confession of who he really was. If he is going to reply to Lucius' letter now, he may as well sign the damn thing "Yours out of complete and utter stupidity, Harry James Potter."

It's rather sad, really.

Or it would have been, if he isn't so unbelievably tired. He hasn't slept properly in days. He has tried, but it is obscenely late by the time he can convince himself to get into bed and when his head hits the pillow, he cries himself into a shallow sleep. Or worse. Sometimes he doesn't sleep and he just lays staring, exhaustion covering him like a blanket until the hard glare of dawn burns his eyes.

He would sell his soul for a good dreamless sleeping draught.

After a full week, he gets a card:

"Mr. Scryer,

It has come to my attention that you are sleeping poorly, partially due to your own stubborn pride. I have had the fireplace in your room at Hogwarts connected to my room at the manor. Please make use of it. The house elves rather enjoy making the bed. I feel it is a shame to deprive them of such joy.

Yours,

Lucius Augustus Malfoy

P.S. You have forgiven me my past once. I gladly return the favor."

Harry doesn't know whether this makes him feel any better. Then he decides that thinking is a task best performed after a 12-hour nap.

He wakes up to find strong tea and a blonde waiting for him. "Did you know that you sleep with your eyes open?" Sebastian asks, handing Harry a cup the moment he sits up in bed. Harry grunts something that may have been "yes" or a famous line of Medieval Troll poetry. He takes a sip.

"Thank you," Harry mumbles. The tea is good. The warmth of it as it goes down is the first distinct feeling he can remember in days. He looks over at Sebastian, who is seated not three feet away.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. Sebastian smiles.

"Keeping you company. Uncle was rather worried that you would bolt without anyone having a chance to see how you were. He's worried about you, you know," he says. He pours himself a cup of tea. Harry takes another sip, furrowing his brow a bit.

"No, I didn't know," he replies. Sebastian looked politely astonished.

"There are at least fifty beds in this house. Surely, you don't think you're in his by coincidence," the boy says. Harry chokes on his tea. Sebastian waits for his coughing to subside before continuing. " There is something about you he likes. I am not surprised. Your charm is evident. However, Uncle is more than simply charmed by you. You should know that." Harry says nothing, becoming rather fascinated with stirring his tea.

"You should also know that, should you trifle with his feelings, you will regret it. I'll see to it," Sebastian adds, his tone casual.

Harry nearly drops his tea in surprise.

"I-I—what? How could I possibly—" Harry's thoughts are so scrambled that he cannot even form a complete thought, let alone voice it. Sebastian chuckles, taking the tea from Harry before he hurts himself.

"I apologize, Mr. Scryer. It appears you are an honest man. It is a little tricky to tell. There are always people who want something from Lucius."

"I can imagine," Harry mumbles absently, thinking that Malfoys and their relatives were going to be the death of him.

"My uncle has lost much. I couldn't bear to see him hurt again." There is genuine compassion in Sebastian's voice. It is completely foreign and Harry almost doesn't recognize it for what it was. Once he does, he feels inexplicably sad.

"Me neither," Harry says, almost surprised to find that he is sincere. Sebastian extends his hand. Harry takes it.

"I believe you. Welcome to the family," Sebastian says, rising. "Breakfast will be served as soon as you're dressed. The floo won't be unlocked until you've eaten properly. You're looking right peaked. Do be quick." Harry nods dumbly, wondering just what kind of family he had gotten himself into. Sebastian flashes him a dazzling smile and leaves him to his privacy.

It isn't until the door closes that Harry realized that Sebastian wasn't wearing any gloves.

More to follow as soon as I can. Meanwhile, review!

Luv ya,

J. Silver