Be Selfish

Chapter 11

"You're supposed to finish the damn oath," Harry said, his voice deeper than normal. Clearly, he was mocking Antonin, since those were the words, Antonin had spat at him when their roles had been reversed. Keeping a weather eye on the Order member to ensure he didn't just happen to glance back and figure it out.

Antonin stared shrewdly at the boy, "I, Duke Antonin Dolohov do agree to the flag of truce for one week." A lazy smirk appearing across his face, pleasantly surprised by this move.

Harry blinked owlishly, glancing towards Privet Drive. Harry jerked Antonin's arm, repeatedly, "Lets get out of here." His heart was pounding erratically. Not out of fear of being found out, not even of returning to the Dursleys but the adrenaline.

Nobody knew it but this was Harry's moment, he'd chosen his side. It was both liberating and terrifying. The light side was all he'd known. The propaganda had been shoved down his throat since he was eleven. Nobody had thought to ask what he wanted.

"Technically, since you're the one holding the treaty you should host me," Antonin said, staring down at the wizard. And technically they should be discussing Harry's allegiances.

Harry jerked forward until he was entirely obscured by the larger wizard. It might prevent Harry from being seen, but Antonin was a very noticeable wizard. He might not have Lucius Malfoy's blonde hair, or the Weasley red but Antonin was very unmistakable. If found here, they would definitely get worried about Harry to perhaps move him. Not that Harry was thinking that way for the moment, he just wanted to be away from Privet Drive.

"Antonin!" Harry whined, but he'd totally deny it if anyone so much as hinted to it. His stomach was in knots, it was likely not the best idea to Portkey anywhere, but he wanted out of here more than he desired his stomach to settle. "Please?" he needed to take his potion too, he realized, as the pain crept in.

Antonin let out a rumbling laugh, before he brought Harry to his side. After he was sure the boy was ready, he activated the portkey and took them both back to Russia.

Back to the only real place Harry had ever felt truly safe and pain free.

"You're a Duke?" Harry asked, fervently curious, staring up at Antonin, green eyes glimmering in fascination. "Like a Duke, Duke? Like royalty?" he wasn't very sure about nobility, but didn't you inherit a Duke title? A family member having been given the title in the past by the royal family? Russia didn't have a royal family, well not anymore. He struggled to recall what he'd learned during primary school. Russia had a royal family, Tsars, and as far as he knew there was no immediate family members of the former Russian Royal Family left alive.

Luckily Antonin was saved, by the healers rather timey intervention.

"Good morning, remember to take your potions little one, and eat," Smirnov stated firmly. "Read the journal, take my advice and the potions as I said are all ready to take with the exact amounts necessary." The healer squeezed Harry's shoulder in silent reassurance. Extremely pleased to see them back, he'd been worried they'd be too damn stubborn, but he was thrumming with delight to see Harry had finally taken a step towards setting his own life right.

"You knew he would ask for his own parley?" Antonin asked the healer, only for the gaping to answer the question. So, he'd clearly hoped Harry would return but hadn't put the idea of another parley into his mind.

"Oh, you magnificent boy," Smirnov said in admiration, nothing and nobody could interfere with parley's not even Dumbledore himself. "I am so pleased to hear this. It will give you more time to heal whilst you gain some much-needed direction and answers."

Harry blinked, "Answers?" he echoed the word, wondering what the healer meant, was it answers about his abilities? Answers about if it really was Dumbledore that had done it to him (it undoubtedly was) or about the war?

"And you have an entire week to ask them," Smirnov delighted in being deliberately obtuse. "Now in your journal there's a piece of parchment detailing in all ways you can get in touch with me. Whether you need healing or not, I was serious when I asked that you keep in touch young one. For now, though, I do need to return to my family, otherwise my wife is going to be hunting me down and dragging me home by my ear." Laughing in delight, and his wife definitely would.

Antonin laughed finding it amusing, but the things Smirnov had said his wife threatened him with constantly were amusing. The fact he knew she actually would made it all the more hilarious. Since they were bonded, she could get into any building he was allowed (magically keyed) into.

"You're leaving?" Harry blurted up, blinking as his gaze shifted from Smirnov to Antonin and back again. Disappointment suffused him, he'd hoped to learn more about healers in general, then if he was lucky more about natural healers, like himself.

"You can write to me any time you like," Smirnov reassured the younger wizard, suffusing enough warmth and reassurances into it as possible. He didn't want Harry thinking for a moment that he was just saying it for politeness' sake. "I will reply to your questions."

Harry nodded, but you could tell he was still disappointed.

"What's wrong?" Antonin wasn't one for beating around the bush. Staring intently at Harry curious despite himself why he was so disappointed. Had he come back to actually spend more time with Smirnov? Yes, it was very likely, he was a natural healer and he had begun just yesterday. He was bound to be bursting with questions.

"Nothing," Harry said, resignedly shaking his head, it didn't matter.

"Cleary it means something," Antonin stated sharply, "What is it?" irritated to the extreme. Any other teenager would be complaining. They wouldn't need prodded into explaining, how long had it been since Harry had been able to say anything without being judged? How long had it been since his own wants and desires had been given to him?

"I just wanted to ask some questions," Harry said, almost defensively, at Antonin's anger. It said something that nothing in Harry screamed alarm, or worry or fear. Even Professor Snape had him feeling slightly alarmed or worried. He no longer thought that he was going to be beaten, that fear had passed within a year at Hogwarts.

"So, what is it? You don't believe he'd write to you or what?" Antonin demanded; noticing it was a sure-fire way of getting information. He hoped it wouldn't always remain that way, that Harry would come to trust him enough to actually answer without being goaded or sniped at. He wondered if his speculation was correct on that front.

Harry frowned, "It's not that!" his voice raising a little, just below a shout. Why was he being that way? Should he have just gone home? Was he mad he'd made another parley? If so, why? It was something he wanted and because he'd been so sick for most of the week, they hadn't gotten to do any parlaying.

"Then what is it?" Antonin continued relentlessly.

The healer didn't come to Harry's defence, he knew Antonin well, and knew he wouldn't be this way without a reason. He was beginning to suspect it was the only way Harry actually opened his mouth and explained how he felt or what he wanted.

"Well?" Antonin demanded.

"I'm not good at learning from books! I'm not like Hermione!" Harry shouted, completely angry for the way Antonin was treating him. "I…I learned a fully-fledged Patronus charm in six sessions, I…I…I learn better hands on, alright that's all! Professor Lupin brought in a Boggart which is a dementor for me, I needed to learn how to deal with Dementors."

Antonin deliberately made himself smaller after that, content to have poked the bear and gotten a real answer. "You're a learn-by-doing."

The healer was gaping, entirely unseen by both Harry and Antonin. His worst fear after all he'd been through was Dementors? Fear itself? He could cast a fully-fledged Patronus at thirteen with his magic bound. Merlin, he was beginning to understand why they suspected the boy could be likened to Merlin himself. His abilities were confounding, he was still so young, he was going to be an amazing wizard. He was going to change the world if he was given a chance.

Smirnov wanted to be part of that, part of the changes Harry would make. He needed guidance, neutral guidance at that. Antonin despite his own personal belief's would give Harry that. He could too, however, he was a normal healer, he didn't have the ability to guide a natural healer, truthfully only one of his own kind could guide him fully. He'd be able to advise him though.

Harry blinked owlishly, not really understanding.

"There's a theory of education that people do better having a hands-on approach to their education. Learning to adapt and observe, it's a very thoughtless idea to the likes of Dumbledore so it wasn't implemented into Hogwarts fully, although we do get some hands-on-experience. Mostly in classes that demand it, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care Of Magical Creatures." Not that he could entirely blame Dumbledore, it would be impossible to implement hands-on experience for all classes at Hogwarts. The best thing for those that need hands on experience are tutors.

Dumbledore just feared anyone being far more powerful than himself. Feared being made obsolete, when someone younger, more charismatic and powerful came along.

"Those that are tutored as an alternative of sending their child to Hogwarts do tend to be far more…powerful and knowledgeable." Antonin explained, "Those that have both Hogwarts and being tutored end up well rounded."

"Does it happen a lot?" Harry asked, perking up sounding very interested.

"Every single student from Hogwarts is given the option of doing so, whether they take that on…is entirely up to them." Antonin informed Harry simply, pleased he'd gotten to the bottom of the problem. "From what I've gathered this generation of students are pampered, ill-prepared and lazy whom rely on their parents to get by in the world." His lip curling up in savage disgust. Yet here stood someone who had learned the Patronus Charm at thirteen.

"I'll tell you what, I shall pop over, with Antonin's approval, on Friday, and we can spend say, six hours together and I will train you, what do you think?" Smirnov asked of the youth. Perhaps he might be able to entice a neutral healer to come and spend time with Harry as well. Given how powerful he is, it's likely going to be needed very soon.

"We're going to the clinic?" Harry perked up, delighted in the suggestion, or rather what he assumed the suggestion was.

Antonin suppressed a smirk, well, he had said he learned by hand's-on experience. "You're more than welcome to help Harry learn and hone his craft." Well aware that the healer hadn't suggested it and likely wouldn't have thought of it either. The less Harry wanted to do with the UK the better for him, given what they'd done to him he'd encourage him to leave and never look back.

Harry deserved better than what the UK magical world had designed for him. From both sides of the war, and Antonin was going to make sure he was safe.

The healer wasn't disheartened by Antonin's comment instead he had a thoughtful look upon his face. Before it sharpened and he nodded firmly, "I shall let them know we will be by." He'd speak to the healers there; he was sure they would be grateful for the aid. Asking Antonin if it was a specific clinic, he knew there was only one free clinic in that district alley that Antonin and Harry visited. Antonin confirmed it for him.

"Children first," Harry said firmly, it wasn't that he didn't think adults didn't deserve the help. He just empathised with children more, especially ones in pain or hurting. Adults understood…children, like him, didn't understand.

"Since you are going to be seeing them, it is up to you," Smirnov agreed sagely, healing on his own terms, that's the beauty of being an independent healer, not tied down to an organization or hospital via a contract. Unlike mundane contracts magical ones tied you to your word. He would never go back to working in the hospitals. You were paid a pittance to what was actually earned working in those hospitals. It was understandable to a certain extent, but not the degree they go. They prey on those that want to help others, and no hospital was worse than St. Mungo's in the UK.

Harry smiled, more than a little awed that he was actually getting to decide. He was so used to everything being decided for him that it was a little awe-inspiring. Harry wasn't sure what he would do at the end of all this. What he did know was that he wasn't returning to the Dursleys. He was legally an adult, there was nothing the magical world could do to stop him doing what he wanted.

He was only beginning to understand the freedom that had been handed to him.

"For now, however, it's a goodbye," Smirnov said, patting Harry's shoulder, "I shall see you on Friday, I'll write with a time." He reassured them that he wouldn't just invade Antonin's privacy. Which he wouldn't do anyway, since he was well aware Antonin pulled any permission to access his Floo when they weren't meant to be there.

"We'll see you then," Antonin agreed, "You might want to give those a read." He added, putting a small box into the healer's hand. Size was deceptive in the magical world, very much so. You wouldn't know there were five books, two of them about natural healers. It would give Smirnov a chance to understand Harry's gift. The books written for the public about different healers were pathetic, natural healers preferred gaining an apprentice with other natural healers for it was the only real way they were understood. They didn't reveal the full extent of their abilities, except in their journals for their descendants.

Smirnov gave a nod, with one last goodbye, the healer returned home.

It left Harry and Antonin alone for the first time. There had always been someone there except for the short times they were coming and going.

"What do you wish to do?" Antonin asked Harry, watching him closely.

"Well, maybe do what you originally wanted to do? And in four hours go to Gringotts?" Harry suggested, "By then the potion won't be quite so…" he shrugged instead of answering, he couldn't figure out the right word for it. Effective would have been a good term to use.

"The effect will have lessened?" Antonin grunted, "Very well, if that is what you'd like to do so be it."

"What do you want to ask?" Harry enquired, still standing.

"Take your potions, eat your breakfast, and do try not to overreact to my questions," Antonin said dryly, he'd really rather not end up being inflated like the boy's…what had he said, uncle's sister, yes he'd rather not go down that route. This had happened before he became overpowered, Merlin, the Dark Lord was in for some serious surprise.

Harry stared at Antonin affronted, "I do not overreact." He denied the allegation that had just left the wizards lips.

Antonin stared incredulously; the brat seemed entirely serious! "Go on, sit down, take your potions!" grumpily, he could see the way he was holding himself that he was in pain. That wouldn't stop until he'd taken the potions. Also the longer he took to take them, the longer it would be before they'd go to Gringotts. "You're serious about pressing charges?" wondering what the Dark Lord would think of that.

Dumbledore brought down by the boy he was so sure was his puppet. Talk about being entirely amusing, Gringotts was going to rain hell down upon Dumbledore. Although, Harry could decide against it at any time. Decide not to bother, he was angry now but would that rage fade? Then there was returning to Hogwarts and being pressured into it as well.

Harry paused, potion half way, his eyes going cross eyed when Antonin pressed the vial up towards his lips. Urging him to take the potion, sitting across from him staring intently at the young wizard. Drinking the contents of the vial as Antonin huffed out an amused laugh at the comical look Harry had on his face. Once he'd taken all his allotted potions, he removed the takeaway container, the food was still pleasantly warm. "Will it make any difference? I mean really?" Harry questioned, a resigned look on his face. They were all for maximum penalty for him using magic to save his own life but Dumbledore would likely walk out smelling like roses.

"Yes," Antonin declared immediately, watching the wizard intently. "The goblins cannot be bought; they hate Dumbledore with a passion. They'll take great delight in charging him with everything they can right down to the tiniest lawbreaking. When they said that they really meant it." Reassuring Harry that it was true, he doubted everything and Antonin had to wonder when he'd started doubting everyone's word or if it had been long since ingrained due to the abuse he'd suffered. Watching Harry relax, surprising him, he didn't expect Harry to trust his word.

"I'd be condemning everyone though, right?" Harry said, deflating after.

"They condemned you to a decade of abuse, what's different about you stepping back? As I've told you, the war isn't fully what you believe. The Dark Lord will not subjugate everyone the way you're likely imagining."

Harry threw a dubious look at Antonin, not believing it the slightest.

"I understand your experiences with him have been vastly different," Antonin acknowledged his point, "However, you were dealing with a wizard who had been driven mad at the lack of human contact, touch, word, a body, cast out as a spirit driven mad with the agony he had to endure. Think of being under that ritual for a decade." Giving him a bar to set by in what the Dark Lord endured.

"I hope you're not expecting me to feel sorry for him?" Harry said bluntly, a stubborn look on his face.

Antonin barked out a surprise laugh, "No, kid, I'm not." How could he? If roles were reversed…in all honesty? Someone touched his parents? He'd hunt them down to the end of the earth and torture them for years and years until they were begging for the mercy of death. "But answer me this, in all honesty…what is your stance on the war now?"

Harry scoffed, swallowing down the bite of food, "Seriously? What's my stance NOW? What like you think I'll just go join my parents' killer because Dumbledore is a bastard?"

Antonin winced at the way he put it, "Yes," he confirmed, he hadn't meant it like that but he did mean it regardless.

Harry blinked, startled, he hadn't expected that, he'd thought Antonin would have backed off. "Truth is…nobody has ever asked me that before." He said quietly, setting his food aside. "Not even my best friends, but it's understandable right? I mean Voldemort targeted me the second I was back in the wizarding world."

"Hmm, yes, rather convenient if you ask me that Dumbledore elected to take the stone out that very year. The stone has always been something the Dark Lord desired." Antonin said derisively. You needed money to win wars, they were expensive. What better than the use of the stone to turn metal into pure gold? The added benefit of immortality had always been inconsequential, it had been odd at the time. Now he knew the truth as to why, and had worked to rectify the error.

Harry nodded, "I figured that out myself, or rather I knew he was letting me face Voldemort instead of dealing with it himself." Recalling the conversation, he and his friends had when they were eleven – Hermione twelve – and just finishing their first year at Hogwarts.

"Yet you still remain staunchly on Dumbledore's side and defend the Muggles given what they've done to you?" Antonin couldn't help the utter disgust and bite to his voice.

"See, you're still doing it, you ask me what my side is then presume for me!" Harry snarled, standing up abruptly. Hands clenching and unclenching as his nostrils flared, reacting how he felt like it for the first time in such a long time. At Hogwarts and the Dursley's he lived in a gilded cage with expectations heaped upon his shoulders and he lived by them. Survival was paramount to Harry. "Just like everyone else!"

"You're right," Antonin confessed, leaning slightly to the side, hand on his thigh as he observed Harry through hooded eyes. "You do understand why?" Antonin had always been blunt to the point of abrasive. Waiting for the little hooligan to start hitting him with his fists, no, not hooligan, just…angry to the point of coming undone. Although, he found himself curious to why he used his fists over magic. then he realized of course, he couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts and likely still had that ingrained response despite the new wand.

Harry huffed before grudgingly sitting back down. "No," he mulishly lied, surprised that he had managed to control his magic so easily. "Odd." He murmured to himself.

"What is it?" Antonin asked, sharpening his attention further still.

"I just…it's odd, I feel like I've got more control over my magic now, shouldn't I be struggling? I was struggling before." Harry said, finding it all rather confusing. Silently contemplating the rather baffling fact.

"You were struggling because your magic was bashing against blocks on its own magic. Trying it's best to tear it down. Whether you realize this or not, it will have affected you emotionally. Think of it like going through puberty twice, right on top of the other." Antonin replied, watching Harry blush in mortification, embarrassed by the words Antonin used.

"Is it noticeable?" Harry asked after a few moments of utterly mortified silence. "That I have more I mean." What could only be seen as a shy look adorning his face, as he peered up at Antonin. He was unaware of how powerful he was, how he was seen by everyone around him. Still shy about asking questions after a decade of it being drummed – read beaten – into him by his relatives.

Antonin made a non-committal sound, "Difficult to say, we haven't duelled since your powers were unbound." Seeing the look on his face he added, "Do not even think about it, it's not happening, your core needs to stabilise. One week then you can duel as many times as you like." He promised.

Harry perked up at that promise, "Really?" he was really looking forward to testing out his new wand, sure the spells would be all well and good, but nothing quite beat a duel.

"Yes," Antonin confirmed, "Eat the rest of your food, and these are for reading at your leisure, they're books on natural healers,"

Harry grimaced at the amount of books, he hated reading, he really did. He had been honest with Antonin earlier, he learned better by watching and listening to his professors, to doing, rather than reading and then proceeding to do the spell on his own. He preferred a practical demonstration over all else.

"You'll understand them well, they're written by someone who was just like you." Antonin reassured him, "Speak the same language as you so to speak. The top one is when she begun to learn what she was, the last one is the last she ever wrote before she passed away."

"She died young?" Harry asked with sympathy, there were so little books.

"Not at all, she outlived everyone in her generation and then some," Antonin commented wryly, "She didn't have any children, healing was her life, except for the extended family."

Harry gave the books another look, squinting at the spines, wondering, "If you say so," he murmured.

Antonin chuckled, his booted feet thudding one against the other, as he set them across the fireplace, and onto the footstool he had matching the sofa. "They're in sets of five years, five journals in one sheath to keep the books clean. It was important to her due to the fact that nobody in the family had presented as a natural healer like herself. These things run in the family."

Harry turned to face Antonin, "Do I have Dolohov blood in me?" Harry asked.

Antonin stared, if he didn't know any better, he would actually say that Harry looked delighted at the possibility. "All pureblood families are interrelated, for that reason in particular. Family gifts are very desirous, Black's, Princes, Dolohov's, Peverell's the list of gifts that run in the families are endless. Some even have more than one family gift, and should we be so fortunate to gain them." Some of the 'gifts' were really just affinities with certain subjects. "For all we know, you might be very distantly related, its' more likely you received it through the Slytherin line." With ability to talk to snakes, but who really knew?

"Accio apple," Antonin murmured, snatching the apple when it zoomed towards him, right out of the fruit bowl. "Best way to find out is if your family has a family tree in one of your existing properties or requests one to be made." Crunching into the apple with relish.

Standing up Antonin stated, "Take them to your room, keep them safe, I want them returned when you're done with them." Doesn't matter that he was the last of his line and would likely have the family line die out with him unless he managed to get himself a partner which was only slightly more likely than it had been a year ago. He was no longer stuck in Azkaban, but he was far from free. "We'll talk after we return from Gringotts." He wanted to know more before he asked any questions…he had a feeling things were most definitely not what they'd all thought them to be.

Hell, it wouldn't surprise him if he ended up with more questions than answers frankly.

Antonin felt the wards give seconds before fire encompassed his vision. He used himself as a body shield, curling around Harry, protecting him from any harm. His wand poking out between his ribs and arm, and a shield protective barrier protecting them from any possible danger. It had nothing to do with the parley, and it shook Antonin, at his own visceral reaction that overcame him. It left him feeling puzzled.

"Fawkes," Harry murmured, peering around Antonin's bloody massive muscled arms. He did cop a feel, who would blame him? Death Eater or not, he was handsome and massively tall and a huge wall of muscle, like seriously who needed that much muscle? Although, to be fair, he didn't know a single other wizard or witch for that matter, who had a single muscle. Wizards obviously didn't usually work out, which made him absently wonder why Antonin did…then he recalled Viktor Krum…maybe it was just a British thing this laziness.

Antonin spouted water at the phoenix, causing it to squawk like a chicken, if a bird could look indignant Fawkes certainly encapsulated it in that very moment. A drowned chicken, it looked like a drowned chicken. Just a less colourful one for sure. "Get out!" he demanded of the demented thing, it had no right coming into his home unannounced. He knew the phoenix would understand what he was saying, they were magical creatures.

Whether it complied or not remained to be seen.

Harry giggled, the water drenched indignation was not a good look on the bird, like at all.

Fawkes trilled, calming notes, but it did the opposite where it came to Antonin and Harry. Neither were partial to having their emotions influenced, even if it meant well. Which they couldn't say he did, this was Dumbledore's phoenix after all.

"Leave!"

Harry still watching Fawkes with narrowed eyes, pressed forcefully against Antonin, worried that the Phoenix would take him from the one true safe place he'd ever known. He used to think Hogwarts would be that place, but it wasn't.

Well, second update on the second day out of seven, we'll see if I can keep my word on the update each day. Don't worry though, I'm not pushing myself too far, I'm getting plenty of rest so thank you all for your condolences they're much appreciated. 😊 well, I think you all knew what was going to happen there lol but I do hope I've surprised you 😉 at least a wee bit! R&R please