1. Apologies for the very long wait on this story. Life has just been very busy between work and school and, well, sleep. Lol.

2. I also apologize for this chapter being another one of purely emotional fluff, but I realized it's been a bit since Harry and Draco have had some lovely bonding time with Leif and Alexei so I wanted to have kind of like a little interlude of that. Don't worry, things are going to be happening in the coming chapters. While we are still quite a while from the end, we are heading straight in that direction.

So, I hope you enjoy this chapter and, if you do, please, leave a review. Thank you so much.

Translations:
[English text] Paidí = [Greek text] Παιδί = Child

Chapter 56

Harry gazed at the prophecy, watching the way his, Draco's, and Severus' magic twisted together and danced across the prophecy's surface. He watched how their magic joined, not just braiding together, but melting into a rainbow rope. Its power was palpable and the prophecy's words whispered around him as he took slow steps towards the orb. He smiled at their magic, feeling the strength of their connection, feeling Draco and Severus as though they were physically there with him.

When the prophecy's glow dimmed for a few seconds and the light drifting of their Pure Magic stuttered, Harry frowned. As he stared, five sharp, black tendrils appeared on top of the prophecy and began to stretch over it, wrapping around until they suddenly shrunk back and seemed to turn into long fingers curled around the top of the prophecy instead.

"Harry."

As the voice hissed his name, drowning out the words of Lady Magic, red slit eyes appeared above the prophecy before they were joined by Voldemort's pale face with its twisted grin.

"I do thank you for taking down that impressive wall. It makes this so much easier," Voldemort taunted.

"You don't get to have them. You can't have our magic. It'll only kill you," Harry said defensively.

"So naïve. What did you think would happen? That I wouldn't be able to touch your Pure Magic?" Voldemort drawled. "I can touch it. I just can't use it, not yet."

Harry's eyes narrowed as Voldemort's grin turned into an evil smirk and black tendrils began to creep across the prophecy again from beneath the long fingers. The prophecy's blue glow ebbed as Voldemort consumed it. His black tendrils wrapped around until they touched the ropes of Pure Magic, twisting up them and making them pulse as they, too, were consumed, their strands being pulled up Voldemort's where they turned steadily black. Harry cringed as every pulse of their magic caused a sharp tug in his chest.

"You see, I can take all the magic I want from you and the traitors you call family," Voldemort spat, making Harry glare. "What I can't do is use it against you, not while that pesky bond of yours exists. So, all I have to do is gather as much magic from you as I can and then break that bond of yours."

"That'll never happen," Harry said firmly. "You can't break it."

"Oh no?" Voldemort said mockingly. "Why don't I show you what will inevitably happen?"

Black mist swirled around them and they were suddenly in a huge room surrounded by rows and rows of prophecies, their blue glows ebbing and flowing. There was a cracking sound and Harry threw his arms over his head as the shelves of prophecies exploded, glass and crystal raining down over him. As the shards bounced off of him, some slicing his skin, a sharp pain tore through his chest and he raised his head, lowering his arms, the mini piles of glass that had gathered on his shoulder stumbling down his back to the marble floor.

Voldemort's eyes flashed and Harry looked at the prophecy still under Voldemort's hand. Its light was stuttering and with more pain lancing through his chest, cracks appeared across the prophecy, white light streaming out of them.

"You believe you have the power to stop me?" Voldemort sneered, the cracks extending and making Harry grit his teeth at the pain. "You believe your magic will save you, save them? This is what your magic will do in my hands."

The prophecy's light went out completely, dousing them in complete darkness for a few seconds. When it began to glow again, despite stuttering and returning far dimmer, Harry's eyes immediately found Voldemort's threat. Severus, Draco, Leif, and Alexei all lay on the floor, spattered with blood and eyes empty as they all stared directly at him. Harry let out a cry that was pained from the shattering prophecy and anguished from the sight of his family dead around him.

Harry released a heart wrenching scream as something tore in his chest and he fell to his knees, hands landing in the blood pooling around him and soaking into his jeans, a mix of his family. He looked up through tears as Voldemort began to cackle and he watched the way their Pure Magic wrapped around Voldemort's arm, travelling up and away from the prophecy, from them.

"You won't get them. This won't happen."

"It will, my dear Harry, and it will because of you. I will have them and this magic because of you, and I…will…destroy you."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I won't let you."

"You will have no choice," Voldemort said, fingers clenching around the prophecy that was now covered in cracks and black tendrils. "We will meet again and you will face your end. I will take everything from you."

Upon Voldemort's sinister promise, the prophecy exploded and the resulting darkness was broken only by the Pure Magic crawling up Voldemort's arms, the red eyes glittering brightly as they became pools of colours over the regular deep red, just like back in Malfoy Manor.

As Voldemort's laugh echoed around him and the tearing in his chest continued, Harry screamed.

Harry flew up in bed, his heart pounding with the dream's remnants and tears trickling down his cheeks. He clutched at his chest, feeling the ghost of the tearing, and fought to calm his heavy, hitching breathing. He reached to the side blindly, searching for his glasses, and slid them on after swiping away the tears. Glasses in place and his breathing settling, Harry glanced at the other side of the room, looking through the dark at Draco asleep in his bed. Harry forced his eyes to adjust to the lack of light so he could see the gentle rise and fall of the blanket over Draco's torso, and listened to the soft breathing, using it to convince himself that his brother was alive, not dead on the floor.

Harry turned away from Draco quickly when a warm fluid slipped over his top lip and he was suddenly tasting rusty iron. Hand leaving his chest to touch his nose, he felt the same fluid coat his fingertips and he quietly jumped out of bed to hurry to the lavatory. He closed the door before touching the sconces to ignite their flames to avoid waking Draco and Severus, and moved across to the vanity to look into the mirror. He frowned at the thin trickle of blood flowing from one nostril and grabbed some tissue to wipe it away.

It was becoming clear that his nosebleeds were not the result of his Occlumency given the fact that Severus had helped him take his wall of fire down over two weeks earlier, ending his full and constant Occlusion. Yet, he was still having nosebleeds and blackouts.

He shook his head at himself, tossing the now bloody tissue in the bin as the bleeding stopped, leaving behind a light tinge of red on his upper lip. He extinguished the sconces and left the lavatory, but he didn't return to his and Draco's room. He wasn't sure he could sleep, not with Voldemort's laugh in his ears and his dead family in his head. Rubbing at his chest again, he crossed the quarters and slowly pushed open the door to Severus' room. He peeked in, letting his eyes land on and listen to the sleeping man the same way he had Draco. It gave him some comfort to have the signs of life, but his dream haunted the proof.

"You believe your magic will save you, save them?" Voldemort taunted. "I will have them…because of you…I will take everything."

Harry winced at the voice and ghosting pains, quietly closing the bedroom door. He walked into the sitting area, coming to stand behind the sofa. He gazed around, unsure what to do. He couldn't go back to sleep and he didn't want to wake Severus. Not only did he know exactly what the man would say, but he knew Severus was exhausted. Even with the bond in place creating a barrier between Voldemort and the Mark, Severus was still in pain every minute of every day and had to bear it while going about his normal days like teaching, caring for him and Draco, and fighting off Scrimgeour's persistent demands to 'talk' to Harry and Draco. Sleep was his only period of respite; Harry didn't want to disturb that.

He considered Alexei, knowing the comfort that could come from the vampire, but as he stood there, he found himself wanting Leif. Something told him the immortal could give him what he needed, whatever that was. Making his decision, he walked to the desk at the back of the quarters and wrote a quick note to leave on the kitchen table, not wanting Draco or Severus to wake up to him gone and panic. With the note set in the kitchen, Harry moved to the fireplace and grabbed some Floo Powder from the jaw on the mantle.

Stepping into the fireplace, Harry tossed the powder down, saying clearly but quietly, "Aurelia Cottage."

He spun away in ash, deposited moments later into what looked like a parlour. They'd never been to Leif's—and now, temporarily, Alexei's—home, but Leif had given them the name and keyed them into his wards in case they ever needed or wanted to go there. He walked through the parlour, giving the furniture and décor cursory glances, and exited into a hall. He followed it down, looking for stairs or even just a sitting room. He was peering into what looked like an office when a hand touched his shoulder and he spun around, startled.

"Harry?" Leif questioned, a conjured ball of blue light hovering between them. "What are you doing here? Have you any idea what time it is?"

Harry blinked, realizing he didn't. "I…I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I…"

Leif gave him a searching look. "Does Severus know you're here?"

Harry shook his head. "He's asleep, but I left a note. I'm sorry, I just…I needed…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Leif gained an expression of curious understanding, clearly not knowing exactly what was going on, but knowing Harry needed something from him. With a gentle smile, Leif placed a hand on the back of Harry's shoulder and he was guided through the spacious cottage into a small, cozy drawing room where he was led to the closely arranged chairs and loveseat around the small fireplace, this one clearly meant for décor, not travel. He was sat on one end of the loveseat while Leif sat on the other. He watched as Leif's conjured ball turned orange and was sent to the fireplace which ignited into bright, crackling flames. Satisfied, Leif turned to him.

"What's going on, paidí?"

Harry's eyes fell to where he was twisting his pyjama pant leg around his fingers, considering what to say. He still wasn't sure what he even needed or wanted from Leif.

"Things have happened because of your magic, right? People have been hurt?" Harry said eventually, dragging his gaze back up to Leif who was watching him looking more knowing now.

"Many have been," Leif replied, nodding. "First and foremost was my mother. She died protecting me because of my magic and what I could do, what others believed I could do. Following that, there were many wars and battles where I or others utilized my magic, often to harm. It is often a desire of many to wield powerful magic, a very dangerous desire."

Harry dropped his eyes again. "It's what he wants."

"Who?"

"Voldemort." Harry sighed quietly, looking back at Leif. "I've been having dreams again, like before, only I remember them this time. They're more like visions."

"What has he shown you?" Leif asked.

"All of you dead," Harry told him, pained. "The prophecy breaking. Him taking our magic."

"That won't happen."

"You don't know that," Harry snapped. "He said he can take and use our magic, just not against us while the bond exists. He's going to use me to take our magic and kill all of you so he can have Pure Magic. He needs us gone so he can have Pure Magic himself and he's going to use me to do it because of the bond we have. I connect all of us together!"

"Calm down, paidí," Leif said gently, reaching out to rest his hand over Harry's that were still twisting in his pyjamas. "We do not know if it can truly work that way."

"It can, I know it can," Harry said despondently. "I can feel it. I can feel him."

"Alright, but remember, your bond with Severus and Draco helps protect against your bond with Voldemort. Like you said, he can do little while your bond exists."

"But if he kills them—"

"He won't," Leif insisted.

"He said we'll end up at that moment no matter what because of me," Harry said, feeling tears sting his eyes. "I don't want this magic, not if it's going to kill people I love."

Leif gazed at him empathetically. "I felt the same way for a very long time. I even refused to use my magic for almost three hundred years. Do you know what happened to those I cared for in those three hundred years?"

Harry gave a small shake of his head.

"They still died. Some died by happenstance, some died directly because of me, of who and what I was," Leif replied. "Disregarding the fact that they aged and I do not, it is likely they all would have died regardless of if I was using my magic or not as few died naturally. The difference is, if I'd used my magic, I could have fought for them. I could have done more to try and protect them even if they still died. Instead, I was selfish and a coward, and people I loved died for my cowardice because those who want power will always find it. They will do anything to have it for themselves. It is up to us, to those of us who bear such power, to fight for it and all who may be harmed in others' paths to take it from us. It is our responsibility to fight even if we cannot guarantee victory. The only way death and harm of those we love is our fault is if we do nothing out of fear of ourselves. We cannot change who we are, what people want from us, or what they do to get it, but we can make who we are matter by understanding we are who we are for a reason, we have our power for a reason."

Silence followed Leif's speech, Harry unsure how to respond as he mulled over the words. As they circled around his head, Voldemort's voice grew quieter and he found himself calming.

"Come, let's get you to bed," Leif said, rising from the loveseat. "I will bring you home in the morning."

Harry stood and let Leif guide him upstairs to a guestroom where he crawled under the fluffy duvet. Leif sat next to him, pulling off his glasses and brushing back his messy hair.

"You and Draco have given us all something to fight for," Leif said softly. "Do not fear the loss of our lives. You gave us life, life we would die to protect. You are the power worth fighting for and that is how we will defeat Voldemort. What you've seen will not come to pass, not as long as we have you to fight for."

Warmth spread through Harry, chasing away the pain that had still been making his chest ache. Leif brushed his hair back a couple more times and cupped his cheek before bidding him 'good night' and leaving the room.

Harry lay in the dark, quiet room, Leif's words still echoing in his head and helping to dull the image of his family dead. Voldemort was likely right about one thing, that they would face each other again, but it wouldn't be without a fight.

Voldemort was fighting for power.

He was fighting for family.

"You are still holding back."

Draco turned from watching Harry and Severus leave the Room of Requirement following their training session at Alexei's voice, facing the vampire. He watched as the mannequins were repaired and the obstacle course was banished before Alexei came over to him.

"Yeah, guess I am," Draco said, looking down at his feet with his arms over his chest. "Guess I'm still worried about what I did…what I can do."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Alexei asked and Draco looked up at him, questioningly. "I know you've discussed it with Leif and Severus, but perhaps I could provide a different perspective."

Draco stared at Alexei for a few moments as the vampire waited, watching him patiently. Eventually, Draco nodded and Alexei gave him a small smile, leading the way to the replica area of Prince Manor. They walked to the river, strolling alongside it for a few minutes before coming to a stop as Draco picked up a handful of stones, throwing them into the water one by one, attempting to skip the flatter ones. Alexei didn't speak, letting them stand in silence as Draco gathered his thoughts.

"You were feral once?" Draco began and if his choice of opening for their conversation surprised Alexei, he didn't show it.

"I was," Alexei replied easily. "For nearly forty years."

"Did…did you enjoy it?"

"A difficult question to answer as the feral mind works quite differently. Things such as enjoyment do not register the same way, but if I think about it, I'd say, yes, I did enjoy it," Alexei replied. "I enjoyed that others were hurting instead of me. I enjoyed that I was causing the pain rather than it being caused to me. I believed the clan was replacing what I'd lost and I believed hurting people as I was would fix what I'd lost, but rather I was simply numbing one pain with another."

Draco tossed a stone, watching as it bounced off a partially submerged rock. "Do you ever feel like you could do it again, could or would be that version of yourself again?"

"Every day," Alexei admitted and Draco turned to him, surprised by the quick, easy response. "It is not difficult to want to cause pain when you are in pain yourself. It is a horrible cycle for many. However, it is important to recognize that cycle and that, by hurting others, it is only adding to your own pain, keeping you trapped. I could very easily return to what I was."

"How do you stop?"

"By seeing what I would lose," Alexei told him. "I lost every person I'd ever loved and I lost myself in that pain. I don't wish to lose myself again and I certainly don't want to lose the people I've found to love, the people that helped me find myself when I believed there was little to find. I don't want to disgrace the love they've given me or the love I've had of those I've already lost."

Draco looked back at the river, watching the clear water flow and bubble around rocks as he turned a stone over in his fingers. "I've told everyone I didn't, even myself, but I did. I liked it when I was destroying my father's core. I really liked it, but I hate that I did because it feels like he was right, that he did what he wanted; he made me a monster like him."

"It is frightening to discover how others' pain makes you feel, but I think who you are hurting matters a great deal," Alexei said understandingly. "You want those who have hurt you to hurt whereas I—and Lucius—hurt completely innocent people. I hurt hundreds who had never done a thing to me and Lucius hurt a child, his own child. That is where the difference lies and why you are not what he hoped to make you."

Draco tossed the stone in the river, listening to it plop into the water. "I want to do it again. I can't stop thinking about it, about the next time I might see him and be able to do it again."

"And sometimes I can't stop from thinking about pulling a stranger into a forest or an alley and tearing into them. I do remember the way it made me feel and while it is difficult to define it as enjoyment, it was something that I've never been able to attain again," Alexei replied. "But I hold back because I know it won't help, it won't make my pain better, and I want to prove to myself that I can be better. I can be better than the worst parts of me."

"But…they're still there, the worst parts?" Draco said, looking over at the vampire.

Alexei nodded. "To remind us of who we can be in spite of them. I understand if you want to hurt Lucius, but I want you to consider something the next time it is on your mind."

Draco's expression turned curious.

"If you get the chance to hurt him, to kill him even, will it truly help with the pain or is it just a mask for that pain, a pain you're not ready to face?"

Draco dropped his gaze only to raise it again when Alexei's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Do not lose yourself when you have people who have found who you are," Alexei said gently. "You cannot fathom the pain it would cause if we were to lose you to yourself, to the parts we know you are so much better than. Do not fear yourself, your pain. Face it and realize you are more than what you believe and you can be better than your worst self."

Draco didn't respond, but he did let Alexei pull him to the vampire's side and returned the side hug with both of his arms. He gazed at the river, feeling like the flowing water as it hit rocks that broke up its flow. Those rocks were his pain, the worst parts of him, and unless he faced them and adjusted like the water, he would continue to crash, his path disrupted.

Maybe his escape from Lucius had nothing to do with hurting or killing him.

Maybe his escape was moving around Lucius and continuing on to the better destination.

Maybe his escape was to find who his family had found.