A/N: Apologies for the long wait. Something was missing and I couldn't figure out what. Then I saw Haruno Sumire as Der Tod in Elisabeth and somehow, I was inspired.

My deep appreciation to all those who continue to love this fic.

Thanks giraffe1, Kazama Hasaki, Calimora, Morgaine Malfoy, gizachick, Reinamariposa, Vampyre Moon, Ambwardo, Penguin Steps, deedee10, ravenmorrigan, zainx, applesauce-n-soysauce, nataleechan, hpdragonlover, debbie, Jonquina, spinnerofdark, Cut-Wrist Kate, lilylupin7, AthenaSamantha, xikum, SuryaPrakash, Yukino-chan, Purple Raveness, diarygirl, Lirael, Novocaine, naravna, Zelphie, Jen, Laura, Kittendragon, Sierralia, MyFictionalAnnihilation, Madd Girl, Megan13, louey31, Fiery Pheonix, anitablakevampirehunter, akuma-river, Tanya Potter, angel, alliekatgirl, Ocelot12, and sotty-chan.

Harry, Shadow, and Ron floo directly to Lucius' bedroom to find that they are the last ones to arrive. James stands in the corner by a window, crossing his arms and staring darkly through the glass. The light of the full moon paints him with an eerie glow. Sebastian sits in a chair not far from James. He looks as calm as a statue of a matyred saint except for the tears that fall silently and beautifully down his face. Gabriel, his curly brown hair pulled away from his face and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, stands over the bed, tending someone. All three wear black coats of heavy velvet. It is deathly silent. Shadows hang upon the far walls of the bedroom as thickly as any curtain and Harry chokes down the sickening feeling that he has done this before.

"Where is Michael, damn him!" Gabriel swears, his brown eyes flashing to amber for an instant. His voice has the undercurrent of a snarl-- an animal sound that is pure frustration. It leaves a gaping wound in the stifling silence. Harry takes his first breath since stepping out of the fire. That is when Harry first notices Vlad's absence from the room.

"He will come as soon as he can. You know that he will, for this," Shadow says. Gabriel's face darkens, his lips compressing into a thin line. He nods stiffly. With Gabriel's sleeves pulled, up it's possible to see the ugly scar that mars his left arm, or at least the bottom half of the scar, which goes almost as high as Bates' shoulder.

Harry remembers the night Gabriel received that scar.

Harry had known immediately that the howl was not from a regular wolf. Draco had been on his feet, wand at the ready before the trilling echoes of the wolf's cry had faded. They still weren't fast enough.

No one was fast enough to prevent what had happened next. Gabriel, tending to the wounded who were too gravely injured to even be removed from the battlefield, didn't see the grey streak of fur racing toward him. The wards had been breached, or else Greyback had not left the field before they were erected, and the wolf was closing in on his latest prey.

Harry wasn't sure who sounded more pained: Gabriel, as the werewolf's teeth pierced his skin, or Draco, as he watched the future of his childhood friend evaporate.

Harry doesn't want to look at the bed. He knows that if he does, he'll lose it. It's the same feeling of dread Harry had about approaching Nicholas's coffin. There's nothing that can prepare him for what lies on the bed. Ron must sense his panic because he reaches for Harry's hand and squeezes gently. Harry returns the squeeze gratefully, and taking a deep breath, looks past Gabriel at the figure on the bed.

A half-strangled cry escapes his throat and Harry finds himself caught up in another one of Ron's hugs. Harry closes his eyes and presses his face against Ron's chest, but it doesn't erase what he has just seen: Lucius, on the bed, his eyes closed and his lips a shade of blue that Harry has only seen during the war on those who were poisoned. The poison had spread through Lucius's veins, creating a lacey network of silver-blue lines across the blonde man's skin that was at once macabre and beautiful.

The door slams open as Michael rushes in, crushing a pendant to his chest. Sebastian is on his feet instantly, his gloved hands curled in tight fists. "Use it now," Gabriel snaps, opening Lucius' mouth. Michael pricks his finger on one of the pendant's many thorn-like projections and the pendant transforms itself into a vial containing a deeply purple liquid, which Michael wastes no time in pouring down Lucius' throat. The silver threads vanish almost instantly, but Lucius' lips remain blue and his breath is still coming in rapid grasps.

Gabriel waves his wand frantically with one hand and rummages through his doctor's bag with the other. "What's happening?" Sebastian asks. His voice is devoid of any emotion, but his expression is strained with what Harry recognizes as the sheer will Sebastian has to exert to control his empathy in a situation like this. Gabriel doesn't spare a look for Sebastian as he answers.

"His systems are failing. The poison has been neutralized but it has already caused a great deal of damage. He could still die"

Sebastian faints instantly. Shadow catches him and gently places him in the chair. "It was too much," he explains in answer to the puzzled looks on Harry and Ron's faces. "To feel not only his own grief and anxiety, but everyone else's. The spike of panic at Gabriel's last statement completely overwhelmed him."

Briefly, Harry wonders what it would be like to feel five times awful as he feels now and cannot fault Sebastian for passing out. Harry has rarely felt so awful in his life. In his experience, people just died. They were there and then, in the same moment, they weren't. Harry's experience with death is that actual death was quick, brutal, and clean. He has not witnessed this, has not had to watch helpless while the scale of life and death teeters first one way and then the other.

He is beyond grateful for Ron's hand holding his and Ron's arms half-holding him up.

"What was that?" Ron asks, his voice quiet, yet firm.

"Heartsease," Michael replies. His face is blank and mask-like as he watches Gabriel tend to Lucius.

"Heartsease is a love potion, not a poison," Ron counters.

"Fermented heartsease is a silver poison," comes the quiet response.

"I wasn't aware that love potions had shelf-lives."

"How long do you think the hope of love can be contained before it turns bitter and painful?" Michael retorts, his voice suddenly sharp. Even though the statement isn't directed at him, Harry winces.

"Why do you have access to heartsease?" The look Michael gives Ron is cool and remote, and when he answers something like a sneer hovers around his lips.

"It's a family heirloom. One of my ancestors was given heartsease by his wife of ten years. He never loved her, though she desperately loved him. She kept the heartsease potion for years, hoping that he would come to love her without it. Finally she gave up hope and turned bitter and fed him the fermented potion. Since then, every Lestrange receives heartsease as a sign of their inheritance."

"If it is supposed to save your life, why the bleeding hell did it take you so long to get it?" Gabriel snaps. Michael looks almost apologetic as he answers.

"It was in Gringott's. It would have come to my side instantly had I been poisoned. As it was, I had to retrieve it."

"How did Lucius end up being poisoned?" Harry asks, surprised to find his voice steady enough to articulate the words.

"Narcissa," Sebastian says, coming around. Shadow rushes to help him, but Sebastian waves him away. "I recognized the bottle as the one she gave him that last Christmas. How is he, Gabriel?"

"He's alive and I've managed to stop the damage, but he'll have to heal practically on his own for a while."

"How long is a while?" Sebastian asks weakly.

"Weeks."

"Weeks!" The word seemed to be echoed everywhere at once.

"There's nothing I can do directly. He's much too fragile at the moment."

"Nothing?" Sebastian asks. Gabriel pulls the ribbon from his hair and raggedly runs his hand through his hair.

"Well, I can brew some mild healing potions, but all they'll do is accelerate his natural healing by a very small amount. "

Sebastian nods and turns to address Ron. "Minister, you can leave Harry with us. You must be terribly busy and besides, you must realize by now that we won't hurt him."

"You knew?" Harry says, blinking. Sebastian's smile is soft, the edges blurred by the blonde's own tiredness.

"We all knew. James and Evan recognized you. Gabriel can smell you. It took me longer to piece together your thoughts and feelings."

"I didn't know," Michael said quietly. There is a tense moment. "Potter, may I have a word in Lucius' study?" Harry nods.

Michael closes the doors of the study behind Harry. A sparkle catches Harry eye and Harry recognizes the remains of Lucius' favorite glass, shards of it scattered upon the floor. "I wanted to talk to you anyway, but it becomes even more relevant now that I know who you are."

"I didn't intend for everyone to know," Harry begins.

"Don't. It's my own damn fault for being the slowest of the bunch." Vlad flashes a small smile at Harry. The smile fades quickly into a somber, tired sort of expression. "I know you and Lucius quarreled, and I can guess what about, and I must say this: you have to forgive Lucius, and you have to face your past with Draco." Harry can feel his own features turn to stone.

"I can't," he says, turning away from Lestrange.

"You can. To do otherwise would be cowardly and you're too damn important to Lucius to be a coward. "

"I cannot forgive him this."

"You cannot forgive him for being a death eater? Or you cannot forgive him for making you fall in love with a death eater?" Lestrange's eyes are greener than Harry's own as they watch for Harry for a reaction.

Somewhere in the room, something breaks. Harry hopes it was expensive. Lestrange raises an eyebrow. "The Dark Lord found it amusing, you know—a love triangle between you and the Malfoys. He let you bargain with Lucius in the hopes that the situation would erupt into chaos and he could bring Draco to his side when you destroyed Draco by sleeping with his father."

"I would never—"

"Hurt Draco like that. Of course not. You loved him, didn't you?"

There is a moment of cutting silence in which Harry broods and Lestrange looks on.

"Michael, you are a right bastard. Leave the man alone. He has been through enough already." Sebastian's voice is sweet, but firm and the look on the blonde's face says that if Michael insists on pressing the issue, he is going to get it.

"Sorry," Sebastian says once Michael has gone. "He really does mean to help. He can't stand to see anyone suffer from love."

"Where is Ron?"

"Currently giving our dear doctor the third degree. He realized that it was the full moon and Gabriel hadn't changed."

"Thank, Merlin. I hadn't even noticed. How did he manage that?"

"He was bitten by a vampire after the war. You know vampires and werewolves are natural enemies?" Harry nods, forcing back thoughts of Nicholas.

"Well, the vampire and the wolf in Gabriel keep each other so exhausted from fighting over control over him that he cannot fully transform into either."

"Half and half equals neither?"

"He is sensitive to the sun. He is short-tempered around the full moon. He's pretty strong, rather fast and he has a sometimes annoying penchant for raw meat." Harry gapes at Sebastian. The blonde chuckles.

"Go back to Hogwarts," Sebastian says gently, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You look dead on your feet."

"What would I do at Hogwarts?" Harry asks, ignoring the burning sensation in his eyes.

"The same thing you'd do here—wait," Ron says, entering the room. "But at least at Hogwarts, you'd have something to do with your time."

"I'll stay here."

"Will you be alright if I leave you here?" Ron's eyes are bright with concern. Harry curses himself for whatever he did to make Ron look at him that way.

"Yes, Ron. Go home. Stop babysitting me and get back to your family."

"You are my family, Harry, and I'm sorry, really, I am, for those years you spent alone because you thought 'Mione and I had deserted you." Harry feels his throat close up.

"Ron, go home. 'Mione will be worried sick about you." Ron sighs.

"All right, all right. Keep me posted, will you? If I don't receive an owl from you every other day, I'm going to hunt you down."

"You're Minister of Magic; you don't have time to hunt me down," Harry quips, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ron grins.

"Good point. I'll get the Unspeakables to track you down."

"You wouldn't!"

"Try me." Harry recognizes the glint in Ron's eye. It is pure determination with only the appearance of common mischief. Harry knows when he has lost.

"Fine. I'll write. Go home, Ron."

After a final hug, Ron disappears through the fireplace. Harry tries and fails to smother a yawn. Sebastian takes Harry's hand. "Let's find you a place to sleep," he says. Harry opens his mouth to insist that he can stay in a chair in Lucius' room, but only another yawn comes out. Cursing his own sleepiness, Harry allows himself to be led to a room adjacent to Lucius', where his head barely hits the pillow before he falls into a much-needed sleep.

More will follow as soon as I can manage. In the meanwhile, please review.

Always,

J. Silver