Runaway Wizard 49
Here it is, the first of my massive Christmas spam post. Merry Christmas.
Yes, I have been hording chapters to do this. *g*
Title: Runaway Wizard
Chapter:
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of J. K. Rowlings, who has kindly allowed me to play with them.
Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Living on the streets with everything that entails, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language, and Pissy Snape.
Parings: H/D eventually
Beta: 50ftqueenie Brit picker: purpledodah
Banner code for RW
Merry Christmas to all. I was hoping to have the actual Christmas chapter done in time but ... sorry, it's not. This only betaed once as one of my betas is having RL issues of major proportions. When it's redone, I'll edit this. Hugs to
purpledodah
Lots of stuff is happening fairly fast as things start to warm up for our friends.
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Draco woke, grumbled and cuddled up to Harry. Harry grumbled back and scooted over. He fell off the side of the bed with a thump and a yelp. He lay on the bedside rug for a moment then Draco's face appeared, peering at him over the edge of the mattress.
“What are you doing down there?”
“Fell.”
“Well ... why?”
“You keep crowding me.” Harry let his irritation show.
“Oh, sorry. I just ... got cold.” Draco managed to look both smug and apologetic at once.
“Prat.” Harry got up and scrambled back into bed.
“Idiot. You're supposed to cuddle me.” Draco pulled Harry close, wrapping his arms around him.
“Well, how am I supposed to know things like that?” Harry happily allowed himself to be cuddled.
“I hate your relatives. I'm going to ... do something nasty to them.” Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry's braid.
Harry sighed, “Rotten snake.”
“Too right.”
They lay there, cuddled together and just enjoying the morning until Mimsey came in with a pop.
“Up, you is going to be late for training.” she tugged all the covers off the bed to wails of dismay. “Up! Up! You is needing to run. Go!”
Draco cussed her roundly while Harry groped for his clothing. “Ok, ok. I just need new contacts and I'm ready. Meanie.”
“Hump! Both of you.” Mimsey crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at them. She was now Harry's personal elf at Hogwarts as Dobby was extremely busy keeping track of all the house elves belonging to both the Potter and Black properties and consulting with the wizards and elves still repairing various properties. Harry was now having to spend an hour with him just to keep up with what was being done where. Lucius was insisting that he make many of the major decisions about his properties now.
Harry washed his face and dragged a brush through his bangs. New contacts, a jogging suit and he was ready. He was hoping for at least another week of good weather but the Highlands of Scotland didn't look like they were going to cooperate.
It had already snowed a couple of times, but it had melted quickly. Those days had been rather miserable. They were all reluctant to retreat to the gym and treadmills, but that was going to happen sooner or later.
Harry and Draco jogged gently to the front door as a warm up. They were met there by the rest of the group and opened the salliport, a small one-person door, in the great doors and groaned. It was snowing hard, the first blizzard of the season was upon them.
“Well, fuck!” Neville glowered at the snow as if it was coming down as a personal insult to him.
Ron and Hermione both just sighed, they'd all been expecting this for the last three weeks since the duelling club fiasco in which Harry had trounced Brown.
Those three weeks had been normally busy, with classes, workouts, research, training and homework. Harry had been bothered by the attitudes of some of their classmates more than Draco had, but they were all annoyed to one extent or another.
Some people seemed determined to ignore the whole potions fiasco as Hermione dubbed it, others seemed to take delight in asking Harry to make Draco do various embarrassing or even dangerous things. Harry had taken to hexing the worst offenders on sight, something that most of the faculty ignored and Professor Snape outright encouraged. Everyone noticed that all of the Slytherins had stopped within 48 hours of the facts coming out.
“Now what are we going to do?” Ron hoped that Harry would give them a day off.
It was not to be however as he sentenced them to the dreaded treadmills. Hermione jumped up and down a bit exclaiming, “Oh, goodie. Now I can read as I run.”
Harry and Draco had already found out about that particular benefit of treadmill running, and had Mimsey fetch books so that they could work on their required reading as they ran.
Harry was also a bit worried about something else. His magic was becoming a bit problematic. Spells went awry, some being more powerful than he expected and others failing altogether. Seamus sent an owl to his grandmother on his mother's side to see if the Irish might be a cause.
Her reply was that the only thing she knew of that would cause such results was some sort of damage to the wizard's wand. Flitwick checked Harry's wand and could see no damage. He advised having Olivander check it over during the hols and an appointment was duly made.
For now, Harry was being careful with his wand, not wanting to cause more damage. It was very worrying none the less.
As they ran on the treadmills, they either read or talked. Harry finished his chapter quickly and was bored so he began a conversation with Draco on his left and Ron on his right. Anyone thinking that Ron would actually run and read had another thing coming.
Draco swiped sweat off his forehead, then grumbled, “I wish Father would put Parkinson out of our misery. I'm sick of all the questions.”
Hermione came out of her reading trance at the name. “I do too. But ... is Pansy ever coming back?”
Harry groaned at that but Draco shrugged as well as he could while running at a pace he'd never dreamed he'd be able to manage a year ago. “I think she will. She's got to have an education now that her family is ruined. She'll have to get a job as she'll never marry well. But that's at least three years in the future. Didn't Father ... oh, shite.”
Harry glanced at him at that exclamation. “What?”
“In all the stress and excitement of the damn duel, I forgot to tell anyone. I got a letter from our solicitor ... she and Brown both got sentences of two years home confinement for dosing us with those potions. Sorry.”
Ron excused him by saying, “Well, we've all been a bit ... distracted. You two most of all.”
Harry threatened to swat Ron who dared him to. Draco looked at Hermione and rolled his eyes. She just returned to her book. Neville just stayed out of it all.
Ron finished last of the bunch and so was stuck with cleaning the mills and the weapons they used in practice. This idea had been thrashed out among them early on so that all of them would do their best to keep up the training. It was working quite well as no one had to do the chore more than twice in a row.
When he finished his chore, cleaned up and got his books together, Ron headed for breakfast. Harry and Neville had made sure that the chore would only make the person stuck with it late to breakfast. This meant that they would go without the more desirable foods like sausages, and bacon, sweet rolls and such; not go without completely.
So Ron flopped down to glower dismally around at all the hogs who'd only left him porridge and toast. He poured cream into it and added sugar. He was just lifting a spoon to his mouth when a sarcastic drawl asked, “And why don't you have your bum boy feed Weasley, Potter. I'm sure he'd make less of a mess.”
Ron carefully put his spoon back in the bowl. He turned around to see seventh year Ravenclaw Justin Wynchwynder standing and smirking at Draco.
Harry started to stand, but Ron was already on his feet. “Wynchwynder, are you insinuating that I'm incapable of feeding myself?”
The look on Ron's face made the other young man decide that he needed to be elsewhere on important business. He scurried away, calling over his shoulder, “Need to talk to someone. Just ... don't take insult so easily.”
Seamus just grinned at Ron. “Well done, fecker didn't have a chance. You know you looked like you really were going to hex him.”
Ron sat down with a grunt, poked at his porridge then said, “I was. They all need to leave Draco alone, he's one of us now.” he then crammed a huge spoonful of porridge in his mouth, scowling.
Draco looked surprised then pleased. His soft, “Thank you” was returned with a short nod.
Classes continued with a few changes. Snape was now distant, but more amenable. McGonagall also was quite a bit more careful with the group. Flitwick drilled every seventh year in duelling protocols, ruthlessly running them through the steps and quizzing them on the International rules.
.
One other thing was interesting, the increasing relationship between Harry and Draco. They were caught more than once, necking in the dark corners of Hogwarts. A few people wondered why they did that when they had quarters of their own. Others just grimaced and walked on. Hermione scolded. They paid no attention.
“Draco.” Harry jerked his head at his ... whatever he was.
Draco raised one eyebrow. “Yes?” his lazy drawl made Hermione glare. “Hermione?”
“I hate it when you get like that.”
Draco laughed, an easy care-free sound. “Like what.”
Hermione blushed bright red and hissed, “You know like what. All kissy face and ...” she trailed off, looking at Ron.
Ron raised one hand as if fending off something. “Don't look at me. Frankly, I think it's cute.”
Draco snorted then exclaimed, “Cute! I'll have you know that Malfoy's are never cute.”
Neville blinked for a moment then asked in a serious tone. “Not even when they're little?”
Everyone fell down laughing.
Draco was the first to get himself back together. “Well, that was fun. But ...” he sighed sadly.
Hermione shook her head. “I know what you're thinking, but don't. There is hope. I just have to figure out ... one little thing.”
Draco looked at her for a moment. “If you're thinking of one of us getting preggers, forget it. It's been tried, several times in fact, it won't work.”
“Oh, I know that. I've got something else entirely in mind. But I need to experiment on ... well, pigs would work wonderfully.”
Neville's jaw dropped. “Pigs? What the devil do pigs have to do with wizards? Especially getting babies from them.”
Harry looked stunned for all of ten seconds. “Pigs? Hermione?” he thought for a few more seconds. Hermione gave him his chance to look like the smart one. “Pigs are used a lot to test things as they actually have a biology very near a humans and their reproductive cycle is faster than an ape.”
Hermione nodded, looking very satisfied with herself. “Exactly. So ... see, but I need some more information. Draco, Neville, Ron? How does the wizarding world feel about surrogate mothers?”
Neville bit his lip, thinking hard. Ron admitted quickly that he had no idea what that even was. Draco frowned, also thinking.
Hermione explained the concept to Ron while Draco and Neville thought about it.
Draco finally opined, “Well, I'd think, if the woman was sterile that a man could get a child on a surrogate to continue his blood line. But the woman would be thought of as ... less than chaste.”
Neville admitted that he agreed with Draco.
Hermione scowled at them both. “That's ridiculous. The woman wouldn't even be contributing her DNA it would be Harry's and Draco's. She could even be a virgin.”
Draco blinked once at that. “I think we better get Father in on this.”
Hermione frowned for a moment then sighed. “Ok. But I was so hoping to keep it for a ... Christmas surprise. Have it all figured out and all.”
Harry thought about that for a moment then said, “Hermione, just the idea that the family line will continue is good enough. Let him have the joy of being involved too. So ... pigs?”
Hermione nodded in a decisive fashion and replied, “Yes, pigs. Draco?”
Draco frowned as he went through his mental catalogue of properties. “I think we have some on the home farm, but they're not ready to butcher yet.”
“I don't want a dead one. I need a sow, alive and ready to breed.”
Neville had been thinking while they were talking. “Look, I have an idea. Why don't you write up everything and just send it to Mr. Malfoy. Then he can get you everything you need to continue your research over the summer. Thank goodness we graduate this year. NEWTS are making me mental. I don't know how you do it.”
Ron just looked proud as he replied, “She's just obsessively organized.” he turned to Hermione. “But you do need to ease off a bit. You are doing too much. We've still to finish searching the Room of Requirement, and this Dena-aye stuff is too much, on top of everything else.”
Harry agreed with Ron as did all the others. Harry prioritized easily. “We need to find that diadem soon. That's on top of the list. I have to figure out something to get all the idiot pure bloods off Draco's back before I accidentally kill someone. I don't actually get it.”
Draco took Harry's hand as he tried to explain. “Harry, the potion ... it ... focused all my attention on you. I'm ... technically, Hermione, so you don't blow a gasket ... your slave. Everything I own, will own or inherit, belongs to you now. I only own what you let me have. It's tradition. That way a woman's family couldn't claim the property of her spouse's family. Long, involved and just ... outrageous. And not just because it's happened to me.” He looked so sad that even Ron eased closer.
Harry just put both arms around him and hugged him close. “It's ok. We'll figure out something. I promise.”
Madam Pince walked by behind them and hissed, “No canoodling in the library.” she cleared her throat gently, “You might want to check the section on bonding rituals.”
Harry thanked her absently. “Thank you, ma'am. Bonding rituals?” He pushed Draco away a bit, to took him in the face. Draco was rather teary eyed so he gave him his handkerchief. “Here. Aren't we already bonded?”
Neville nodded. “You are, but it's a wild bond. There's been no ... ritual to ... define and control it. No telling what is going to happen if you don't do something soon.”
Harry growled indignantly, “Well, why didn't Papa tell us to do something.”
Neville just shifted uncomfortably. “He can't. It's not tradition, and you know damn good and well that he's Old Pureblood Traditionalist to the bone. He's probably frantic.”
Hermione, who had darted off the second Madam Pince had spoken, returned with a pile of books. She flopped them onto the table with a thump. “There. Neville, Ron, you two are the experts on tradition so we'll need a lot of help from you, no matter what we find.”
Harry shrugged. “I don't care about the rituals or traditional expectations. Draco is going to be treated with respect and honour. He'll have control of the Malfoy properties, as is only right and proper. We just have to figure out how to do it.”
Draco looked at the faces around him and finally realized that they were his true friends. “Oh, Merlin. Harry.” He just put his head down on the table, and tried hard not to cry.
Harry rubbed gentle, comforting circles on his back until he could get himself back together.
Hermione patted him on the shoulder then returned to her books. Neville and Ron both just eased closer, offering comfort in their physical presence.
.
Voldemort eyed his Death Eaters and demanded, “Did you find the Gaunt ring?” miserable head shakes, “The cup?”
One Death Eater managed to reply, “No, Master, the goblins won't let us in. They say that the rightful owner of the vault is ...” he mumbled off.
“Is who? Do not try my patience.” Voldemort cast a spell on the man, who whimpered but was grateful that it wasn't Crucio.
“Harry Potter, Master. They say the rightful owner is Harry Potter.”
Voldemort exploded in fury and Avada Kadavadra-ed the man. All the other Death Eaters in attendance scattered, some even jumping out the second floor windows to get away. Being a minion of Voldemort was becoming less and less desirable.
As his minions all fled, Tom Riddle, the self-styled Dark Lord, demolished his hiding place beyond usefulness, screaming about his horcrux's and Nagini. No one paid much attention to his rantings as they were all just glad to escape with their lives. Many never returned, going instead to the continent, Australia or America.
The rest, less than half of the original number, the number before Malfoy defected, resigned themselves to finding a new stronghold. This residence had been the last one of the original ten. The Auror corp. had discovered the rest, looted them and burned the buildings. Things were not going well for the Glory of the Purebloods.
.
Lucius Malfoy left the Ministry with a very satisfied expression quirking his lips. He was still allowing his contact in the Auror corp to question him, more a genial chat over tea than anything resembling an inquiry. It was very advantageous for both of them. He 'accidentally' let fall information about the location of safe houses and strong holds and his counterpart mentioned abandoned vaults that he just happened to know the passwords and account numbers for. It was strange how several of a certain someone's vaults managed to be appropriated under some obscure Ministry law or Gringotts regulation. It didn't hurt that the Goblins charged a fee of 15%, for 'administration'.
He sighed rather heavily. It was a shame that his family would end with Draco. He would have cried but that wasn't the Malfoy way. He was going to have his revenge, however, as the two families who had ended his would also end.
He went home to brood and drink. Something he rarely did, but he felt he deserved a good brood, that was not to say sulk, once in a while.
He was interrupted by an owl post. Tuggy brought it to him and put it in his hand taking the drink Lucius put down and popping out with it.
“My drink! Bring that back.” Lucius was indignant. “Blasted elf.”
But he was soon a much happier man as he read, “Have finished research. Now need experimental subjects, i.e. Pigs. Please reply soonest. H. Granger”
His reply was simple. “Christmas is coming. Please send full report on process.”
The owl that dropped the letter on Hermione's plate the next morning at breakfast lit on Draco's shoulder. He fed it a piece of bacon, whispering to it.
When she finished reading the letter Hermione dragged a neat journal book out of her bag, exclaiming, “What luck! I just finished writing up all my notes last night just after I send Mr. Malfoy that note. Here, Draco, will you put it on the owl properly?”
Draco took the book and did as she asked. “Thanks, Hermione. Now, what have you done about that ritual?”
Hermione didn't bother to ask what ritual, she knew as well as they did that Harry was planning to rub the wizarding worlds collective noses in the fact that Draco was his, was not to be disrespected and that he would be The Malfoy in his turn.
Harry just smirked at them all. “Hermione, not telling. Not that I don't trust you all, I do. But the walls have ears. Literally. He grinned at their puzzled looks. “Portraits.” this cryptic remark brought knowing expressions to Ron and Neville's faces. Draco just looked smug while Hermione took a moment to puzzle it out.
When she did, she snarled. “There's a portrait in my room. Some pink woman. Bitch. I bet she's been telling Dumbledore everything we've discussed all along.”
Harry shrugged. “Incendio practice tends to get the point across. Or just throw a sheet over her. But I'm still not telling.” He wiped his mouth and stood up. “I have some plans to make, I'm going to speak to Dumbledore about leaving for a couple of days. I can trust you to take notes and what not. Right?”
Hermione nodded, “Of course, if he lets you leave. I bet he doesn't.”
Harry just gave her a louring look. “I bet he does.”
Neville agreed with Harry. “I bet he does too. He's really in Harry's black book so he'll let him get away with just about anything. But, what about that damn diadem. I've spent hours looking for it. We all have. It's getting really annoying, I'm tired of searching.”
Ron, who'd also gotten more than tired of searching for it, grumbled, “Me too. We've all been up late every night this week looking for the damn thing.”
Harry looked at them all and saw that they were looking worn thin. “I'm sorry guys, you too, Hermione. We have to find it. And neither Dumbledore nor Tommy boy can know we know where it is. Dumbledore would want to save it and ... well, you all know that Tom would just hide it even better. I'll come back and tell you what Dumbledore says about me leaving.”
Harry walked to the gargoyle and nodded to it. It opened at once and Harry climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office. His knock was answered by a 'come in.' so he opened the door.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with a rather befuddled look on his face.
“Professor? Is something wrong?” Harry looked at the old wizard with some concern. He knew that he and Dumbledore were on the outs but had hoped for some sort of reconciliation, or at least an understanding. He now thought that the old man looked very off.
“Harry? Did I summon you?”
“No, sir. I came on my own. I need to ask you for a favour.”
“Oh, I see. Well, ask then.” He glanced down at a pile of parchment on his desk then back at Harry. “I'm getting old. Would you ask Minerva to come up and get these when you leave?”
Harry sighed, there was definitely something wrong, but he didn't have the time nor the inclination to worry about it. He picked up the parchments and tucked them into his robes. “I'll do that. I need to borrow parchment and pen, please.” Dumbledore just shoved the requested items across his desk.
Harry wrote out a permission for him to be gone from school for three days, as long as he turned in all assignments in advance. This was the usual form for such a request and put off most students from further requests. Harry had found out about it from Percy in third year. As it was now only days from Thanksgiving the professors were taking it light on assignments so he wasn't going to have any problems.
“Professor? This isn't signed.” Harry set his permission in front of Dumbledore, ready to argue his case if the man actually objected to it.
Dumbledore just signed and pushed it back. “There you go, my boy. Where are you going?”
“I'm going to make preparations for my espousal. I'm not going to have anyone say I didn't do my duty to my foster brother. There are several rituals in the old traditions. I'm going to take the best of each of them, but I need to leave to make proper preparations. Never let it be said that I did anything by halves.” He gave Dumbledore a soulful look.
Dumbledore fell for it. “Good. Wonderful. I look forward to the festivities. All the proprieties observed and all that. Yes?”
Harry tucked his permission into an inner pocket. “Precisely. Excuse me. I better take this stuff to Professor McGonagall.”
Dumbledore offered him a lemon drop, which Harry refused, then went back to shuffling parchments around. Harry watched him for a moment, saw him sign something without reading it and sighed. There was something very wrong with the professor but he had no way to tell what nor did he trust anyone to believe him if he told them.
Stuffing his misgivings to the back of his mind, Harry went back down to tell his friends that he would be found at Malfoy Manor for the next five days.
Hermione shook her head. “But Harry, this excuse is only for three days.”
“Hermione, think. What is today? And before you ask, no, I have no intention of handing in anything early. I'll take my chances with turning them all in on time.”
Hermione glanced at the parchment then sighed, “Sneaky. Today is Wednesday. You're not coming back until Monday. I just hope it's worth it.”
Harry glowered for a moment then gripped Draco's shoulder. “It's worth anything to see that Draco is taken proper care of. I'm tired of all the insults and insinuations. The next person who disrespects Draco is going to need Madam Pomfrey's attentions.”
Draco patted Harry's hand. “Will you sit down and quit looming? Eat some breakfast.”
Harry grabbed a sweet roll from a tray. “I don't have time. I have to take a bunch of parchments to McGonagall and give her my excuse. Guys, keep an eye on Dumbledore, something's really wrong with him. Despite our differences, I really don't want anything bad to happen to the old goat. I just want him to butt out of my business.”
Draco gave Harry a sharp look but nodded. “Ok, lover. Whatever you want.”
Ron and Neville also nodded that they would do as Harry asked.
Hermione just blinked for a moment then asked, “What do you think is wrong with him?”
Harry mumbled around a mouthful of roll, “No idea. Just ... he's getting vague. Stares off into space. Do wizards get senile?” and with that he hurried off to see Professor McGonagall.
When Harry reached McGonagall's office he had a sudden cold chill. What if she wasn't there? She wasn't at breakfast so he'd assumed she'd be in her office, but she could be anywhere. He knocked then waited, hoping for the best.
He was rewarded by a call of, “Enter.” which he did.
“Professor, I'm so glad you're here. I brought these down for Professor Dumbledore.” He gave her the pile of parchments, with his permission on top. “Please read the top form now. I need to get going.”
Professor McGonagall read as requested then looked at Harry over the top of her glasses. “Why do you want to be away for ... five days?”
“I need to set up for a ritual of Espousal. I'm sick of people picking on Draco. If it isn't someone asking to use him, it's some idiot making nasty remarks. I'd just like to get it all done with. Then we can ...” Harry trailed off, red in the face.
Minerva McGonagall had been young in her day, and married. “I believe the phrase is fuck like bunnies. And if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it to your face.” But she smiled at him in a genial way.
Harry laughed. “Yes, ma'am. We're observing the pureblood proprieties. Draco and I both agreed. So ... I really need to get this taken care of.”
“Very well, Mr. Potter. On your way.” Professor McGonagall eyed the pile of parchment with a jaundiced eye. Dumbledore had gradually pushed all the chores of managing Hogwarts off onto her. She grumbled a bit then started to read the first parchment.
“Professor?”
“Mr. Potter, I thought...” She got a good look at Harry's face. “What is it? You really can tell me, you know.”
Harry hesitated a bit more then decided on one more chance. “There's something wrong with Dumbledore, and don't tell me to call him Professor. This is too important to distract ourselves with quibbling.”
“No, you are right. What are you saying?” McGonagall felt her heart seize in her chest.
“He's ... different this year from last. He seems ... distractible. And he stares off into space a lot. He's ... just ... off. I can't put my finger on it.”
“Harry, Albus is a very busy man. He's Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock. As well as Headmaster. It's not that unusual for him to be a bit distracted.” Harry gave her a speaking look to which she replied, “However, if you have concerns, I'll keep an eye on him.”
Harry smiled at her. “That's all I'm asking. I know something's wrong, perhaps it is just that he's extra busy just now, or maybe it's something else.”
“I'll speak to Madam Pomfrey as well.” She sighed. “He's old and busy. You'd better get on your way now. Good day to you.”
“You as well. And thanks for listening.” Harry got out before he thought of something else to do.
He jogged down to the front gate and the apparition point there. It was cold, so he was wearing his heavy cloak with the Lion and Snake clasp. He still thought of it as something special rather than a mistake. He grumbled at the snow drifts, he really, really hated treadmills.
.
Lucius Malfoy sat in his private parlour, waiting for his foster, and soon to be son-in-law. He was drinking tea with a drop of calming draught in it. He greeted the tap on the door with pleasure.
“Harry, come in. Tea?”
Harry sighed and held out his hand. “Yes, please. I only had a sweet roll for breakfast. Could I impose?”
Lucius just tapped a small gong. Tuggy had admitted that he hated being yelled for, he said it was undignified.
“Yes, Master Lucius?”
“Harry missed breakfast, please bring him something.”
“Yes, Master.” Tuggy turned to Harry. “Is young Master Harry wanting anything special?”
“No, food would be good.” Harry smiled at Tuggy. This was guaranteed to get him his favorites.
“Sly rascal.” Lucius nodded to Harry with amusement. “Have you come up with something acceptable?”
“Yes, Hermione did research.” Lucius smirked at Harry. “Oh, don't give me that look. You know she's brilliant at that sort of thing. We've come up with something that's perfect.” Harry handed his Papa several sheets of parchment. “Read that and tell me she's not the smartest witch ever.”
Lucius read then started laughing. He laughed so hard tears trickled down his cheeks. Tuggy popped in with Harry's plate, gave his master a look and popped out again.
Harry ate a few bites of his second breakfast and waited for Lucius to recover himself.
“Ha! Oh, I haven't felt this good in ... I don't remember how long. I see that Hermione also sent along some ... genealogical charts. I wonder why she did that?”
Harry hurriedly swallowed a forkful of eggs. “Genetic something or other. Inbreeding evidence. I'm not really sure. Once you're done reading it, I'd like a stab at it.”
Lucius nodded absently, immersed in his reading. Lucius was a very smart man, exceptionally so, except for a couple of blind spots that he couldn't help, due to his upbringing. One of those blind spots was being rather ruthlessly illuminated.
After he was done reading Lucius carefully handed the parchments to Harry. Harry started to read but jumped a foot when Lucius exploded.
“Son of a bitch!” the stream of invective that followed made Harry blink. “You realize, Harry, that all our efforts to ensure that the power and magic of the wizarding world survives did exactly the opposite? Right?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. Pureblood politics aside, biology won't be toyed with. Basically, the way I understand it from biology class, you've been breeding back to the line so closely that you're lucky not to have two headed kids.”
Lucius turned a rather nasty shade of grey. “There have been. Not two headed, but badly deformed squibs. In addition, Squibs have become more and more prevalent in recent years. Many families, like my own, have only one or two children. Some of them ... not quite all one could wish.”
Harry sighed, “Like Greg?”
“Yes. His mother and father are ... third cousins? I'm not sure. Finish reading that. I need a drink.” Lucius started to pour himself a drink then put the bottle back. “What the hell am I thinking? Drinking before breakfast is done? Damn it!”
Harry chuckled a bit. “Papa! Calm down. Think about it. We both know that, when Hermione puts her mind to a problem, it just lays down and gives up. If she figures out this DNA thing, and she's well on her way if she's asking for experimental subjects, she's nearly solved it.”
“That is not what I was thinking of. Muggleborns, they are natures way of ensuring that magicals don't inbreed. We've been scorning them and refusing them entry into polite society for centuries. We should have been doing exactly the opposite.” Harry scowled in thought. “Harry, you're seventeen and nearly as powerful as I already. Your mother was muggleborn, while your father was pureblood. But there was a muggle in the wood pile about three generations back.”
Harry snickered at the image the idiom created, but agreed, “You're right. I wish there was somewhere I could go to really go all out one time. Somewhere that Dumbledore wouldn't feel me.”
Lucius eyed Harry for a moment. “You are hiding something, Harrison. What is it?”
Harry just shrugged. “An advantage. I'm a bit more powerful than I've been letting on. I need to test myself to find out just how much power I can put into certain spells. And keep it secret. Ok?”
“Of course.” Lucius smirked at Harry. “I know of a place we can go. We can floo there. I'll get an appointment while you start your arrangements. Is it actually going to take you five days?”
Harry smirked in a very self satisfied way. “No. But three whole days out of Hogwarts and away from Dumbledore? Not to be sneezed at.”
“Draco is going to be furious.”
Harry laughed at that. “He'll throw a tizzy. But that's just tough. I should get some benefit out of being the Boy-Who-Lived besides hordes of staring idiots and bad press.”
Lucius looked dismayed at that remark. “You really do not like all that fuss and attention, do you?”
“I hate it. Have you seen the Daily Prophet? It's outrageous. Death Eater scion caught in own trap. Idiots. And there's worse in Witch Weekly. I swear, I'd burn down the buildings if I thought it would do any good.”
Lucius just poured them both more tea. “I did try to shut them off. It didn't work. Here, drink your tea, then we'll get about our business.”
Harry took the cup, sniffed, recognized the drop of calming draught and drank. “Thank you.”
They drank in silence for a while then Harry thought to ask, “Did you ever find out if Parkinson and Brown are actually going to pay the wergild. Brown said something about being ruined.”
“Remember when we discussed the wergild?” Harry nodded. “I left Brown with enough to care for his family, if they are very frugal, but that is all. Parkinson, I intend to ruin completely. Pansy is a slut. I have absolutely no intention of having such a person in my family. So ... I just hope he challenges me to duel in public.” Lucius achieved an expression that was not only feral but satisfied.
Harry just shrugged. “I'll second you.”
Lucius bowed from his seated position, managing to look elegant and relaxed. “Thank you.”
.
Lucius left his solicitors office unsatisfied. Mr Parkinson was still digging in his heels. The man insisted that his daughter would never willingly dose someone with a potion. He couldn't believe that his precious Pansy was now in a holding facility charged with Potion Facilitated Assault and Assault on a Family Line. Lucius' threat to have her house arrest amended to incarceration had been ignored, so he'd carried it out.
The solicitor had advised that they quit, as he put it, faffing around and go to court. Taking the suit to court instead of settling out of court would lead to more publicity than Lucius wanted but he was willing to do that if necessary. He left instructions to make one more offer of out of court settlement then file papers.
As he walked, Lucius wondered what Harry was planning. He was sure it was going to be spectacular. He was a bit irritated that Harry wouldn't tell him anything. He supposed that Harry wanted to wait until he was sure everything he wanted was within tradition. He appreciated that a great deal.
Glancing around Lucius found Harry at Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour where he was devouring a huge sundae with evident enjoyment. Lucius joined him.
“Harry, the solicitor has just about given up on settling out of court. How are you going to feel about testifying in court.”
Harry made a face. “As long as it's not in Courtroom Ten, and I don't have to sit in that bloody chair, I'm fine.”
Luicus shook his head. “I really don't know what the hell Fudge was thinking.”
Harry shrugged but said with wisdom beyond his years, “Probably trying to scare me into saying Tommy wasn't back. That's when I really started not to trust him, or Dumbledore. Things worked out a bit too conveniently. And while we're on the subject, he's gone odd.”
“I've noticed.” Lucius nodded to the hovering waitress. “Tea, please.” She squeaked and scurried off to fetch it. “I am, however, very reluctant to push for an evaluation. It will not look good at all. Our animosity being so well known.”
Harry scooped the last of his sundae out of the dish, then held the spoon in mid air while he examined it. “Don't do anything. I've laid the groundwork with Professor McGonagall. You might ask Professor Snape to keep an eye on the old man, just as a favour to Hogwarts, you understand.”
Lucius eyed Harry for a moment as he shoveled the last of his ice cream into his mouth. “That's quite Slytherin of you. Well done. I will have a word or two with Severus.”
“Well, the hat did want to put me in Slytherin, you know.” Harry leaned back in his chair, sipping at his water.
Lucius looked surprised. “It did? That is interesting. And why didn't you go into the house of cunning?”
“Draco put me off. Ask him about it, as I'm not about to carry tales out of school.” Harry sighed, rejected the idea of any more ice cream and signaled the waitress to bring another cup with the pot of tea she was making up.
The tea things were set out and Lucius accepted the cup that Harry poured for him. “I am seriously thinking about challenging Parkinson to a duel. He is delaying for some reason. I do believe that he's trying to hide his assets from me.”
Harry snorted into his cup. “She-yeah! Like that will work.”
Lucius only said, “Harry! Manners.” although the reprimand was said in a mild tone. “If he thinks he is going to get away with that, he has lost the last of his ... er ... marbles?”
Harry nodded at Lucius' attempt to use idiomatic 'muggle', it could get quite amusing. But he did appreciate the attempt.
Harry picked up the tea pot, hefted it to see how much was left and realized that it was empty, or nearly so. “There's no more tea. Do you want to order another pot?”
Lucius finished the last of his cup, putting it down he said, “I do not believe so. We both need to be on our way. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Not much. I've gotten my inquiries started and I'll have to wait until I find out what the lawyers say before I can finalize anything. I thought I'd take the opportunity to paint. I haven't had time at school and there's no place for me to set up anyway. I caught Ernie Macmillan pinching a tube of paint.”
“What did you do to him?” Lucius knew how defensive Harry was over his paints.
Harry shrugged. “Not much. I just let him open it.” His smile gained a slightly evil touch. “It was oil.”
Lucius chuckled. “I assume that that ended people ... exploring your paint box.”
“No, the locking spell I put on it did.” Harry's expression turned satisfied.
“Oh? Which one did you use?”
“The screamer. The whole house was running to see who was getting murdered.” They both laughed over that. Then Harry said, “I do miss living in Gryffindor but things are much better now that I have private quarters. I can find my stuff and I don't run out of parchment, ink and pens. It’s amazing how roommates, or even housemates, seem to have some ... sense of entitlement. And really annoying.”
The conversation had continued through paying for their treats and getting out the door, but now it was interrupted by someone yelling Lucius' name.
“Malfoy! You bastard! I'll kill you!” Mr. Parkinson was the opposite of Mr. Brown. He was well dressed and neatly groomed, but no less insane for all that. “You've destroyed me. I'll be broke when the wergild is paid. And my little girl is in prison. I'm going to kill you for that.”
Lucius just sighed. “Parkinson, is it possible for us to take this off the street? I really do not think we should be airing your dirty linen in public like this.”
“No! Now! I'm not giving you a chance to wriggle out of this.” Parkinson strode across the street to get right in Lucius' face. Lucius didn't back up an inch, he stood toe to toe with the man.
“I would not dream of it. If you wish to fight with me, that is your prerogative. Suicide is, however, such a waste. Aurors will be here in a moment, I am sure. We will take this off the streets, collateral damage is such a nasty thing.” Lucius smirked at Parkinson as his remark about aurors was proven true, the cracks of them apparating in made several observers jump.
Lucius and Harry just stood and waited for one of the aurors to come question them. It didn't take long and Lucius answered the stream of quick questions calmly. The auror then went to question the auror who had spoken to Parkinson.
“Well?” The lead auror didn't want to hear what his subordinate had to say.
“Sorry, Parkinson won't be reconciled. I doubt that Malfoy would allow it anyway. Coercion by potion is a nasty thing.”
“Well, shite! Ok, let's get this done. Cordon off both ends of the street and set up protective wards to keep the shop fronts from being damaged.”
And with that, each auror returned to his subject and read them the rules of engagement.
Harry listened with interest. Professor Flitwick had explained them, but they weren't covering them in detail until after Christmas. He wondered if he shouldn't ask the professor to cover them sooner.
Lucius also listened, but with a rather bored expression on his face. Finally he interrupted, saying irritably, “Yes, yes, I know all that. Where are we going to do this?”
The auror, who's name they were never to learn, just pointed. “Right here. We've got a shield master coming to shield the shops and both ends of the street. We'll get it over with quickly. No sense in trying to move this dog and pony show. There'll be an outcry of indignation if we try to delay it. Parkinson will have a fit and all the people who want to watch will demand seating in the arena. It'll be days before we get it all sorted out.”
Lucius frowned, snarling, “Of course, we cannot deny the hoi-polloi their amusement, can we.”
The auror made a face. “I am sorry. I know you hate making a public spectacle of this but ... we have orders. I really think it's to stop claims of cheating by ... well, either party. So, who's to be your second.”
“I believe you have already taken that métier. You may continue. Harry, pay attention, for future reference.” Lucius turned his head and winked at Harry with his off eye. Harry just grinned back.
“Yes, sir. I'll do that. You ready.”
Lucius bowed slightly to the auror. “I am always ready. Proceed.”
The shield master turned out to be some Unspeakable who kept hidden in the depths of his silver gray cloak and hood. He even wore gloves of dark gray leather.
He stepped into the middle of the junction of Diagon Ally and Knockturn Alley. “Attention. This is a duel of honour between Lucius Malfoy and Peter Parkinson. The claims are, it seems, well known but will be repeated here. Mr Parkinson claims that Mr. Malfoy has maligned his daughter and impoverished his family with wergild claims that are not in accordance with the facts. Mr. Malfoy claims, and has proven, that Miss Pansy Parkinson drugged his son with a potion, irreversibly changing his status to that of property, thus robbing him of both son and heir and ending his line. The duel will be to first blood or unconsciousness or inability to continue combat. No Unforgivables. As Mr. Malfoy is the challenged, those rules are amended to include, no blades of any kind, only curses. Duellists, advance to the middle of the field.”
Lucius walked to face Parkinson, they turned back to back, wands in hand.
The Unspeakable went to his place in a doorway, waved his wand then announced, “Shields in place. You may begin.”
The team leader called, “One ... two ... three ... four ...” for every number called both combatants took one step forward, until the last number was called, then, “Turn! ... Duel!”
Lucius didn't bother to turn as the calls were so close together, instead he jumped to one side then whirled and cast his first hex, “Difodio!” cobblestones were thrown about as the hex cut a deep gouge right where Parkinson had been. He was running toward the mouth of Knockturn Alley, casting 'Everbero' and 'reducto' as he went. Lucius ran at the shield wall and right up it. His back flip made the observers gasp in unison as Parkinson's everbero went under him. As he flipped he cast an everbero of his own. It hit Parkinson in the chest with a loud thud, knocking him into the lamp post behind him.
They fought for several minutes, casting hexes and jinxes at each other. Parkinson was the sort who tried to bull his way through by brute force while Lucius was more refined and more deadly. He didn't 'come out swinging' he kept away from his opponent until he had all his moves down pat, then he unscrupulously exploited all of them.
In this case, Parkinson telegraphed his spells, even before he shouted them. Lucius knew what he was going to cast as soon as he did. The man seemed to know only three spells; or, at least, spells that were legal in this duel, and cast them in the same order every time.
Lucius had that order figured out, everbero, difodio, everbero, reducto and back again.
Lucius on the other hand knew a catalogue of spells that would have made him a wonderful defence teacher. He cast them in such a random order that Parkinson was always on the defensive. And to top everything, Parkinson didn't shield, while Lucius was quite capable of maintaining a low level shield that kept all but Parkinson's most powerful spells at bay.
Parkinson was showing signs of exhaustion which made Lucius more cautious, he knew that exhaustion led to desperation which in turn led to foolishness. He was wise to watch Parkinson more carefully. He was quick to cast 'bouclier', it was in French but was a very effective shield charm. The 'diffractum' it barely blocked would have fractured both his legs.
The watching aurors knew better than to interfere in an affaire d'honneur but Parkinson had just used a dark spell in public. He was on his way to a holding cell at the Ministry after the duel was done.
And done it was. Lucius lost his temper in that cold, dangerous way of his. He turned full face on to Parkinson and snarled, “You utter fool. Using Dark Arts in an affaire d'honneur on a public street.” he took a deep breath, “I tried, I really did, to let you settle this with your pride intact, but now ... Apis!” The stinging hex hit Parkinson on his wand hand, making him lose his grip. “Expelliarmus!” Parkinson's wand shot toward Lucius as Parkinson hit the shop front behind him with a resounding thud. He slid down to lay on the street in a pile of robes, limbs akimbo.
Lucius just tossed Parkinson's wand to the auror nearby. “Here. See to that mess, will you?” Lucius pushed his hair out of his face, combing his fingers through it to rearrange the locks that had been put out of place by his exertions. “Harry! Come! We're leaving.” he didn't bother to ask if he was needed, he didn't care. Let the minions of the Ministry deal with the mess, he was done.
He took Harry by the arm and apparated him back to Malfoy Manor with a loud crack. He was more than startled to find himself enveloped in a rather frantic hug.
“Papa, damn it, I was so scared! If he'd hurt you, that fucker would never have left that street in one piece.” Harry was babbling and he knew it but he couldn't stop.
Lucius got a very nasty feeling. “Harry, let me see your wand.”
Harry handed it over without protest. Lucius cast a quick spell and found that Harry had a spell that he shouldn't even have known already loaded and ready to cast.
Lucius grabbed Harry, turned him around and swatted him, hard. Harry yelped then gave Lucius a hurt look.
Lucius proved that he was all Malfoy by exclaiming, “Damn it, Harry! Never preload a spell like that. It'll get you caught every time.”
Harry just nodded, “Ok, but I meant it.”
Lucius sighed, rubbed his face and realized that no one in all his life had ever been ready to kill on his behalf. “Harry, I find myself totally without a thing to say. No one has ever ...” he trailed off.
Harry, wise beyond his years just said, “Tell me you wouldn't do the same for me.” he sighed too, “Suddenly, I find myself totally exhausted. I was going to paint but now ... I just want a nap.”
Lucius settled on one of the couches in the back parlour, where they'd somehow found themselves. “So do I.” Five minutes later Mimsey and Tuggy tip-toed in to cover their masters with afghans and slip off their shoes.
“They is so cute, sleeping like that.”
Tuggy just replied, “Shush.”
No one knew, or cared, that Peter Parkinson disappeared into the Ministry and never came out again.
.
Everbero - bludgeoning hex
Reducto - blasting curse
Difodio - gouging curse
Diffractum - Breaks bones on contact
Yes, I have been hording chapters to do this. *g*
Title: Runaway Wizard
Chapter:
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of J. K. Rowlings, who has kindly allowed me to play with them.
Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Living on the streets with everything that entails, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language, and Pissy Snape.
Parings: H/D eventually
Beta: 50ftqueenie Brit picker: purpledodah
Banner code for RW
Merry Christmas to all. I was hoping to have the actual Christmas chapter done in time but ... sorry, it's not. This only betaed once as one of my betas is having RL issues of major proportions. When it's redone, I'll edit this. Hugs to
purpledodah
Lots of stuff is happening fairly fast as things start to warm up for our friends.
.
Draco woke, grumbled and cuddled up to Harry. Harry grumbled back and scooted over. He fell off the side of the bed with a thump and a yelp. He lay on the bedside rug for a moment then Draco's face appeared, peering at him over the edge of the mattress.
“What are you doing down there?”
“Fell.”
“Well ... why?”
“You keep crowding me.” Harry let his irritation show.
“Oh, sorry. I just ... got cold.” Draco managed to look both smug and apologetic at once.
“Prat.” Harry got up and scrambled back into bed.
“Idiot. You're supposed to cuddle me.” Draco pulled Harry close, wrapping his arms around him.
“Well, how am I supposed to know things like that?” Harry happily allowed himself to be cuddled.
“I hate your relatives. I'm going to ... do something nasty to them.” Draco rubbed his cheek against Harry's braid.
Harry sighed, “Rotten snake.”
“Too right.”
They lay there, cuddled together and just enjoying the morning until Mimsey came in with a pop.
“Up, you is going to be late for training.” she tugged all the covers off the bed to wails of dismay. “Up! Up! You is needing to run. Go!”
Draco cussed her roundly while Harry groped for his clothing. “Ok, ok. I just need new contacts and I'm ready. Meanie.”
“Hump! Both of you.” Mimsey crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at them. She was now Harry's personal elf at Hogwarts as Dobby was extremely busy keeping track of all the house elves belonging to both the Potter and Black properties and consulting with the wizards and elves still repairing various properties. Harry was now having to spend an hour with him just to keep up with what was being done where. Lucius was insisting that he make many of the major decisions about his properties now.
Harry washed his face and dragged a brush through his bangs. New contacts, a jogging suit and he was ready. He was hoping for at least another week of good weather but the Highlands of Scotland didn't look like they were going to cooperate.
It had already snowed a couple of times, but it had melted quickly. Those days had been rather miserable. They were all reluctant to retreat to the gym and treadmills, but that was going to happen sooner or later.
Harry and Draco jogged gently to the front door as a warm up. They were met there by the rest of the group and opened the salliport, a small one-person door, in the great doors and groaned. It was snowing hard, the first blizzard of the season was upon them.
“Well, fuck!” Neville glowered at the snow as if it was coming down as a personal insult to him.
Ron and Hermione both just sighed, they'd all been expecting this for the last three weeks since the duelling club fiasco in which Harry had trounced Brown.
Those three weeks had been normally busy, with classes, workouts, research, training and homework. Harry had been bothered by the attitudes of some of their classmates more than Draco had, but they were all annoyed to one extent or another.
Some people seemed determined to ignore the whole potions fiasco as Hermione dubbed it, others seemed to take delight in asking Harry to make Draco do various embarrassing or even dangerous things. Harry had taken to hexing the worst offenders on sight, something that most of the faculty ignored and Professor Snape outright encouraged. Everyone noticed that all of the Slytherins had stopped within 48 hours of the facts coming out.
“Now what are we going to do?” Ron hoped that Harry would give them a day off.
It was not to be however as he sentenced them to the dreaded treadmills. Hermione jumped up and down a bit exclaiming, “Oh, goodie. Now I can read as I run.”
Harry and Draco had already found out about that particular benefit of treadmill running, and had Mimsey fetch books so that they could work on their required reading as they ran.
Harry was also a bit worried about something else. His magic was becoming a bit problematic. Spells went awry, some being more powerful than he expected and others failing altogether. Seamus sent an owl to his grandmother on his mother's side to see if the Irish might be a cause.
Her reply was that the only thing she knew of that would cause such results was some sort of damage to the wizard's wand. Flitwick checked Harry's wand and could see no damage. He advised having Olivander check it over during the hols and an appointment was duly made.
For now, Harry was being careful with his wand, not wanting to cause more damage. It was very worrying none the less.
As they ran on the treadmills, they either read or talked. Harry finished his chapter quickly and was bored so he began a conversation with Draco on his left and Ron on his right. Anyone thinking that Ron would actually run and read had another thing coming.
Draco swiped sweat off his forehead, then grumbled, “I wish Father would put Parkinson out of our misery. I'm sick of all the questions.”
Hermione came out of her reading trance at the name. “I do too. But ... is Pansy ever coming back?”
Harry groaned at that but Draco shrugged as well as he could while running at a pace he'd never dreamed he'd be able to manage a year ago. “I think she will. She's got to have an education now that her family is ruined. She'll have to get a job as she'll never marry well. But that's at least three years in the future. Didn't Father ... oh, shite.”
Harry glanced at him at that exclamation. “What?”
“In all the stress and excitement of the damn duel, I forgot to tell anyone. I got a letter from our solicitor ... she and Brown both got sentences of two years home confinement for dosing us with those potions. Sorry.”
Ron excused him by saying, “Well, we've all been a bit ... distracted. You two most of all.”
Harry threatened to swat Ron who dared him to. Draco looked at Hermione and rolled his eyes. She just returned to her book. Neville just stayed out of it all.
Ron finished last of the bunch and so was stuck with cleaning the mills and the weapons they used in practice. This idea had been thrashed out among them early on so that all of them would do their best to keep up the training. It was working quite well as no one had to do the chore more than twice in a row.
When he finished his chore, cleaned up and got his books together, Ron headed for breakfast. Harry and Neville had made sure that the chore would only make the person stuck with it late to breakfast. This meant that they would go without the more desirable foods like sausages, and bacon, sweet rolls and such; not go without completely.
So Ron flopped down to glower dismally around at all the hogs who'd only left him porridge and toast. He poured cream into it and added sugar. He was just lifting a spoon to his mouth when a sarcastic drawl asked, “And why don't you have your bum boy feed Weasley, Potter. I'm sure he'd make less of a mess.”
Ron carefully put his spoon back in the bowl. He turned around to see seventh year Ravenclaw Justin Wynchwynder standing and smirking at Draco.
Harry started to stand, but Ron was already on his feet. “Wynchwynder, are you insinuating that I'm incapable of feeding myself?”
The look on Ron's face made the other young man decide that he needed to be elsewhere on important business. He scurried away, calling over his shoulder, “Need to talk to someone. Just ... don't take insult so easily.”
Seamus just grinned at Ron. “Well done, fecker didn't have a chance. You know you looked like you really were going to hex him.”
Ron sat down with a grunt, poked at his porridge then said, “I was. They all need to leave Draco alone, he's one of us now.” he then crammed a huge spoonful of porridge in his mouth, scowling.
Draco looked surprised then pleased. His soft, “Thank you” was returned with a short nod.
Classes continued with a few changes. Snape was now distant, but more amenable. McGonagall also was quite a bit more careful with the group. Flitwick drilled every seventh year in duelling protocols, ruthlessly running them through the steps and quizzing them on the International rules.
.
One other thing was interesting, the increasing relationship between Harry and Draco. They were caught more than once, necking in the dark corners of Hogwarts. A few people wondered why they did that when they had quarters of their own. Others just grimaced and walked on. Hermione scolded. They paid no attention.
“Draco.” Harry jerked his head at his ... whatever he was.
Draco raised one eyebrow. “Yes?” his lazy drawl made Hermione glare. “Hermione?”
“I hate it when you get like that.”
Draco laughed, an easy care-free sound. “Like what.”
Hermione blushed bright red and hissed, “You know like what. All kissy face and ...” she trailed off, looking at Ron.
Ron raised one hand as if fending off something. “Don't look at me. Frankly, I think it's cute.”
Draco snorted then exclaimed, “Cute! I'll have you know that Malfoy's are never cute.”
Neville blinked for a moment then asked in a serious tone. “Not even when they're little?”
Everyone fell down laughing.
Draco was the first to get himself back together. “Well, that was fun. But ...” he sighed sadly.
Hermione shook her head. “I know what you're thinking, but don't. There is hope. I just have to figure out ... one little thing.”
Draco looked at her for a moment. “If you're thinking of one of us getting preggers, forget it. It's been tried, several times in fact, it won't work.”
“Oh, I know that. I've got something else entirely in mind. But I need to experiment on ... well, pigs would work wonderfully.”
Neville's jaw dropped. “Pigs? What the devil do pigs have to do with wizards? Especially getting babies from them.”
Harry looked stunned for all of ten seconds. “Pigs? Hermione?” he thought for a few more seconds. Hermione gave him his chance to look like the smart one. “Pigs are used a lot to test things as they actually have a biology very near a humans and their reproductive cycle is faster than an ape.”
Hermione nodded, looking very satisfied with herself. “Exactly. So ... see, but I need some more information. Draco, Neville, Ron? How does the wizarding world feel about surrogate mothers?”
Neville bit his lip, thinking hard. Ron admitted quickly that he had no idea what that even was. Draco frowned, also thinking.
Hermione explained the concept to Ron while Draco and Neville thought about it.
Draco finally opined, “Well, I'd think, if the woman was sterile that a man could get a child on a surrogate to continue his blood line. But the woman would be thought of as ... less than chaste.”
Neville admitted that he agreed with Draco.
Hermione scowled at them both. “That's ridiculous. The woman wouldn't even be contributing her DNA it would be Harry's and Draco's. She could even be a virgin.”
Draco blinked once at that. “I think we better get Father in on this.”
Hermione frowned for a moment then sighed. “Ok. But I was so hoping to keep it for a ... Christmas surprise. Have it all figured out and all.”
Harry thought about that for a moment then said, “Hermione, just the idea that the family line will continue is good enough. Let him have the joy of being involved too. So ... pigs?”
Hermione nodded in a decisive fashion and replied, “Yes, pigs. Draco?”
Draco frowned as he went through his mental catalogue of properties. “I think we have some on the home farm, but they're not ready to butcher yet.”
“I don't want a dead one. I need a sow, alive and ready to breed.”
Neville had been thinking while they were talking. “Look, I have an idea. Why don't you write up everything and just send it to Mr. Malfoy. Then he can get you everything you need to continue your research over the summer. Thank goodness we graduate this year. NEWTS are making me mental. I don't know how you do it.”
Ron just looked proud as he replied, “She's just obsessively organized.” he turned to Hermione. “But you do need to ease off a bit. You are doing too much. We've still to finish searching the Room of Requirement, and this Dena-aye stuff is too much, on top of everything else.”
Harry agreed with Ron as did all the others. Harry prioritized easily. “We need to find that diadem soon. That's on top of the list. I have to figure out something to get all the idiot pure bloods off Draco's back before I accidentally kill someone. I don't actually get it.”
Draco took Harry's hand as he tried to explain. “Harry, the potion ... it ... focused all my attention on you. I'm ... technically, Hermione, so you don't blow a gasket ... your slave. Everything I own, will own or inherit, belongs to you now. I only own what you let me have. It's tradition. That way a woman's family couldn't claim the property of her spouse's family. Long, involved and just ... outrageous. And not just because it's happened to me.” He looked so sad that even Ron eased closer.
Harry just put both arms around him and hugged him close. “It's ok. We'll figure out something. I promise.”
Madam Pince walked by behind them and hissed, “No canoodling in the library.” she cleared her throat gently, “You might want to check the section on bonding rituals.”
Harry thanked her absently. “Thank you, ma'am. Bonding rituals?” He pushed Draco away a bit, to took him in the face. Draco was rather teary eyed so he gave him his handkerchief. “Here. Aren't we already bonded?”
Neville nodded. “You are, but it's a wild bond. There's been no ... ritual to ... define and control it. No telling what is going to happen if you don't do something soon.”
Harry growled indignantly, “Well, why didn't Papa tell us to do something.”
Neville just shifted uncomfortably. “He can't. It's not tradition, and you know damn good and well that he's Old Pureblood Traditionalist to the bone. He's probably frantic.”
Hermione, who had darted off the second Madam Pince had spoken, returned with a pile of books. She flopped them onto the table with a thump. “There. Neville, Ron, you two are the experts on tradition so we'll need a lot of help from you, no matter what we find.”
Harry shrugged. “I don't care about the rituals or traditional expectations. Draco is going to be treated with respect and honour. He'll have control of the Malfoy properties, as is only right and proper. We just have to figure out how to do it.”
Draco looked at the faces around him and finally realized that they were his true friends. “Oh, Merlin. Harry.” He just put his head down on the table, and tried hard not to cry.
Harry rubbed gentle, comforting circles on his back until he could get himself back together.
Hermione patted him on the shoulder then returned to her books. Neville and Ron both just eased closer, offering comfort in their physical presence.
.
Voldemort eyed his Death Eaters and demanded, “Did you find the Gaunt ring?” miserable head shakes, “The cup?”
One Death Eater managed to reply, “No, Master, the goblins won't let us in. They say that the rightful owner of the vault is ...” he mumbled off.
“Is who? Do not try my patience.” Voldemort cast a spell on the man, who whimpered but was grateful that it wasn't Crucio.
“Harry Potter, Master. They say the rightful owner is Harry Potter.”
Voldemort exploded in fury and Avada Kadavadra-ed the man. All the other Death Eaters in attendance scattered, some even jumping out the second floor windows to get away. Being a minion of Voldemort was becoming less and less desirable.
As his minions all fled, Tom Riddle, the self-styled Dark Lord, demolished his hiding place beyond usefulness, screaming about his horcrux's and Nagini. No one paid much attention to his rantings as they were all just glad to escape with their lives. Many never returned, going instead to the continent, Australia or America.
The rest, less than half of the original number, the number before Malfoy defected, resigned themselves to finding a new stronghold. This residence had been the last one of the original ten. The Auror corp. had discovered the rest, looted them and burned the buildings. Things were not going well for the Glory of the Purebloods.
.
Lucius Malfoy left the Ministry with a very satisfied expression quirking his lips. He was still allowing his contact in the Auror corp to question him, more a genial chat over tea than anything resembling an inquiry. It was very advantageous for both of them. He 'accidentally' let fall information about the location of safe houses and strong holds and his counterpart mentioned abandoned vaults that he just happened to know the passwords and account numbers for. It was strange how several of a certain someone's vaults managed to be appropriated under some obscure Ministry law or Gringotts regulation. It didn't hurt that the Goblins charged a fee of 15%, for 'administration'.
He sighed rather heavily. It was a shame that his family would end with Draco. He would have cried but that wasn't the Malfoy way. He was going to have his revenge, however, as the two families who had ended his would also end.
He went home to brood and drink. Something he rarely did, but he felt he deserved a good brood, that was not to say sulk, once in a while.
He was interrupted by an owl post. Tuggy brought it to him and put it in his hand taking the drink Lucius put down and popping out with it.
“My drink! Bring that back.” Lucius was indignant. “Blasted elf.”
But he was soon a much happier man as he read, “Have finished research. Now need experimental subjects, i.e. Pigs. Please reply soonest. H. Granger”
His reply was simple. “Christmas is coming. Please send full report on process.”
The owl that dropped the letter on Hermione's plate the next morning at breakfast lit on Draco's shoulder. He fed it a piece of bacon, whispering to it.
When she finished reading the letter Hermione dragged a neat journal book out of her bag, exclaiming, “What luck! I just finished writing up all my notes last night just after I send Mr. Malfoy that note. Here, Draco, will you put it on the owl properly?”
Draco took the book and did as she asked. “Thanks, Hermione. Now, what have you done about that ritual?”
Hermione didn't bother to ask what ritual, she knew as well as they did that Harry was planning to rub the wizarding worlds collective noses in the fact that Draco was his, was not to be disrespected and that he would be The Malfoy in his turn.
Harry just smirked at them all. “Hermione, not telling. Not that I don't trust you all, I do. But the walls have ears. Literally. He grinned at their puzzled looks. “Portraits.” this cryptic remark brought knowing expressions to Ron and Neville's faces. Draco just looked smug while Hermione took a moment to puzzle it out.
When she did, she snarled. “There's a portrait in my room. Some pink woman. Bitch. I bet she's been telling Dumbledore everything we've discussed all along.”
Harry shrugged. “Incendio practice tends to get the point across. Or just throw a sheet over her. But I'm still not telling.” He wiped his mouth and stood up. “I have some plans to make, I'm going to speak to Dumbledore about leaving for a couple of days. I can trust you to take notes and what not. Right?”
Hermione nodded, “Of course, if he lets you leave. I bet he doesn't.”
Harry just gave her a louring look. “I bet he does.”
Neville agreed with Harry. “I bet he does too. He's really in Harry's black book so he'll let him get away with just about anything. But, what about that damn diadem. I've spent hours looking for it. We all have. It's getting really annoying, I'm tired of searching.”
Ron, who'd also gotten more than tired of searching for it, grumbled, “Me too. We've all been up late every night this week looking for the damn thing.”
Harry looked at them all and saw that they were looking worn thin. “I'm sorry guys, you too, Hermione. We have to find it. And neither Dumbledore nor Tommy boy can know we know where it is. Dumbledore would want to save it and ... well, you all know that Tom would just hide it even better. I'll come back and tell you what Dumbledore says about me leaving.”
Harry walked to the gargoyle and nodded to it. It opened at once and Harry climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office. His knock was answered by a 'come in.' so he opened the door.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with a rather befuddled look on his face.
“Professor? Is something wrong?” Harry looked at the old wizard with some concern. He knew that he and Dumbledore were on the outs but had hoped for some sort of reconciliation, or at least an understanding. He now thought that the old man looked very off.
“Harry? Did I summon you?”
“No, sir. I came on my own. I need to ask you for a favour.”
“Oh, I see. Well, ask then.” He glanced down at a pile of parchment on his desk then back at Harry. “I'm getting old. Would you ask Minerva to come up and get these when you leave?”
Harry sighed, there was definitely something wrong, but he didn't have the time nor the inclination to worry about it. He picked up the parchments and tucked them into his robes. “I'll do that. I need to borrow parchment and pen, please.” Dumbledore just shoved the requested items across his desk.
Harry wrote out a permission for him to be gone from school for three days, as long as he turned in all assignments in advance. This was the usual form for such a request and put off most students from further requests. Harry had found out about it from Percy in third year. As it was now only days from Thanksgiving the professors were taking it light on assignments so he wasn't going to have any problems.
“Professor? This isn't signed.” Harry set his permission in front of Dumbledore, ready to argue his case if the man actually objected to it.
Dumbledore just signed and pushed it back. “There you go, my boy. Where are you going?”
“I'm going to make preparations for my espousal. I'm not going to have anyone say I didn't do my duty to my foster brother. There are several rituals in the old traditions. I'm going to take the best of each of them, but I need to leave to make proper preparations. Never let it be said that I did anything by halves.” He gave Dumbledore a soulful look.
Dumbledore fell for it. “Good. Wonderful. I look forward to the festivities. All the proprieties observed and all that. Yes?”
Harry tucked his permission into an inner pocket. “Precisely. Excuse me. I better take this stuff to Professor McGonagall.”
Dumbledore offered him a lemon drop, which Harry refused, then went back to shuffling parchments around. Harry watched him for a moment, saw him sign something without reading it and sighed. There was something very wrong with the professor but he had no way to tell what nor did he trust anyone to believe him if he told them.
Stuffing his misgivings to the back of his mind, Harry went back down to tell his friends that he would be found at Malfoy Manor for the next five days.
Hermione shook her head. “But Harry, this excuse is only for three days.”
“Hermione, think. What is today? And before you ask, no, I have no intention of handing in anything early. I'll take my chances with turning them all in on time.”
Hermione glanced at the parchment then sighed, “Sneaky. Today is Wednesday. You're not coming back until Monday. I just hope it's worth it.”
Harry glowered for a moment then gripped Draco's shoulder. “It's worth anything to see that Draco is taken proper care of. I'm tired of all the insults and insinuations. The next person who disrespects Draco is going to need Madam Pomfrey's attentions.”
Draco patted Harry's hand. “Will you sit down and quit looming? Eat some breakfast.”
Harry grabbed a sweet roll from a tray. “I don't have time. I have to take a bunch of parchments to McGonagall and give her my excuse. Guys, keep an eye on Dumbledore, something's really wrong with him. Despite our differences, I really don't want anything bad to happen to the old goat. I just want him to butt out of my business.”
Draco gave Harry a sharp look but nodded. “Ok, lover. Whatever you want.”
Ron and Neville also nodded that they would do as Harry asked.
Hermione just blinked for a moment then asked, “What do you think is wrong with him?”
Harry mumbled around a mouthful of roll, “No idea. Just ... he's getting vague. Stares off into space. Do wizards get senile?” and with that he hurried off to see Professor McGonagall.
When Harry reached McGonagall's office he had a sudden cold chill. What if she wasn't there? She wasn't at breakfast so he'd assumed she'd be in her office, but she could be anywhere. He knocked then waited, hoping for the best.
He was rewarded by a call of, “Enter.” which he did.
“Professor, I'm so glad you're here. I brought these down for Professor Dumbledore.” He gave her the pile of parchments, with his permission on top. “Please read the top form now. I need to get going.”
Professor McGonagall read as requested then looked at Harry over the top of her glasses. “Why do you want to be away for ... five days?”
“I need to set up for a ritual of Espousal. I'm sick of people picking on Draco. If it isn't someone asking to use him, it's some idiot making nasty remarks. I'd just like to get it all done with. Then we can ...” Harry trailed off, red in the face.
Minerva McGonagall had been young in her day, and married. “I believe the phrase is fuck like bunnies. And if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it to your face.” But she smiled at him in a genial way.
Harry laughed. “Yes, ma'am. We're observing the pureblood proprieties. Draco and I both agreed. So ... I really need to get this taken care of.”
“Very well, Mr. Potter. On your way.” Professor McGonagall eyed the pile of parchment with a jaundiced eye. Dumbledore had gradually pushed all the chores of managing Hogwarts off onto her. She grumbled a bit then started to read the first parchment.
“Professor?”
“Mr. Potter, I thought...” She got a good look at Harry's face. “What is it? You really can tell me, you know.”
Harry hesitated a bit more then decided on one more chance. “There's something wrong with Dumbledore, and don't tell me to call him Professor. This is too important to distract ourselves with quibbling.”
“No, you are right. What are you saying?” McGonagall felt her heart seize in her chest.
“He's ... different this year from last. He seems ... distractible. And he stares off into space a lot. He's ... just ... off. I can't put my finger on it.”
“Harry, Albus is a very busy man. He's Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock. As well as Headmaster. It's not that unusual for him to be a bit distracted.” Harry gave her a speaking look to which she replied, “However, if you have concerns, I'll keep an eye on him.”
Harry smiled at her. “That's all I'm asking. I know something's wrong, perhaps it is just that he's extra busy just now, or maybe it's something else.”
“I'll speak to Madam Pomfrey as well.” She sighed. “He's old and busy. You'd better get on your way now. Good day to you.”
“You as well. And thanks for listening.” Harry got out before he thought of something else to do.
He jogged down to the front gate and the apparition point there. It was cold, so he was wearing his heavy cloak with the Lion and Snake clasp. He still thought of it as something special rather than a mistake. He grumbled at the snow drifts, he really, really hated treadmills.
.
Lucius Malfoy sat in his private parlour, waiting for his foster, and soon to be son-in-law. He was drinking tea with a drop of calming draught in it. He greeted the tap on the door with pleasure.
“Harry, come in. Tea?”
Harry sighed and held out his hand. “Yes, please. I only had a sweet roll for breakfast. Could I impose?”
Lucius just tapped a small gong. Tuggy had admitted that he hated being yelled for, he said it was undignified.
“Yes, Master Lucius?”
“Harry missed breakfast, please bring him something.”
“Yes, Master.” Tuggy turned to Harry. “Is young Master Harry wanting anything special?”
“No, food would be good.” Harry smiled at Tuggy. This was guaranteed to get him his favorites.
“Sly rascal.” Lucius nodded to Harry with amusement. “Have you come up with something acceptable?”
“Yes, Hermione did research.” Lucius smirked at Harry. “Oh, don't give me that look. You know she's brilliant at that sort of thing. We've come up with something that's perfect.” Harry handed his Papa several sheets of parchment. “Read that and tell me she's not the smartest witch ever.”
Lucius read then started laughing. He laughed so hard tears trickled down his cheeks. Tuggy popped in with Harry's plate, gave his master a look and popped out again.
Harry ate a few bites of his second breakfast and waited for Lucius to recover himself.
“Ha! Oh, I haven't felt this good in ... I don't remember how long. I see that Hermione also sent along some ... genealogical charts. I wonder why she did that?”
Harry hurriedly swallowed a forkful of eggs. “Genetic something or other. Inbreeding evidence. I'm not really sure. Once you're done reading it, I'd like a stab at it.”
Lucius nodded absently, immersed in his reading. Lucius was a very smart man, exceptionally so, except for a couple of blind spots that he couldn't help, due to his upbringing. One of those blind spots was being rather ruthlessly illuminated.
After he was done reading Lucius carefully handed the parchments to Harry. Harry started to read but jumped a foot when Lucius exploded.
“Son of a bitch!” the stream of invective that followed made Harry blink. “You realize, Harry, that all our efforts to ensure that the power and magic of the wizarding world survives did exactly the opposite? Right?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. Pureblood politics aside, biology won't be toyed with. Basically, the way I understand it from biology class, you've been breeding back to the line so closely that you're lucky not to have two headed kids.”
Lucius turned a rather nasty shade of grey. “There have been. Not two headed, but badly deformed squibs. In addition, Squibs have become more and more prevalent in recent years. Many families, like my own, have only one or two children. Some of them ... not quite all one could wish.”
Harry sighed, “Like Greg?”
“Yes. His mother and father are ... third cousins? I'm not sure. Finish reading that. I need a drink.” Lucius started to pour himself a drink then put the bottle back. “What the hell am I thinking? Drinking before breakfast is done? Damn it!”
Harry chuckled a bit. “Papa! Calm down. Think about it. We both know that, when Hermione puts her mind to a problem, it just lays down and gives up. If she figures out this DNA thing, and she's well on her way if she's asking for experimental subjects, she's nearly solved it.”
“That is not what I was thinking of. Muggleborns, they are natures way of ensuring that magicals don't inbreed. We've been scorning them and refusing them entry into polite society for centuries. We should have been doing exactly the opposite.” Harry scowled in thought. “Harry, you're seventeen and nearly as powerful as I already. Your mother was muggleborn, while your father was pureblood. But there was a muggle in the wood pile about three generations back.”
Harry snickered at the image the idiom created, but agreed, “You're right. I wish there was somewhere I could go to really go all out one time. Somewhere that Dumbledore wouldn't feel me.”
Lucius eyed Harry for a moment. “You are hiding something, Harrison. What is it?”
Harry just shrugged. “An advantage. I'm a bit more powerful than I've been letting on. I need to test myself to find out just how much power I can put into certain spells. And keep it secret. Ok?”
“Of course.” Lucius smirked at Harry. “I know of a place we can go. We can floo there. I'll get an appointment while you start your arrangements. Is it actually going to take you five days?”
Harry smirked in a very self satisfied way. “No. But three whole days out of Hogwarts and away from Dumbledore? Not to be sneezed at.”
“Draco is going to be furious.”
Harry laughed at that. “He'll throw a tizzy. But that's just tough. I should get some benefit out of being the Boy-Who-Lived besides hordes of staring idiots and bad press.”
Lucius looked dismayed at that remark. “You really do not like all that fuss and attention, do you?”
“I hate it. Have you seen the Daily Prophet? It's outrageous. Death Eater scion caught in own trap. Idiots. And there's worse in Witch Weekly. I swear, I'd burn down the buildings if I thought it would do any good.”
Lucius just poured them both more tea. “I did try to shut them off. It didn't work. Here, drink your tea, then we'll get about our business.”
Harry took the cup, sniffed, recognized the drop of calming draught and drank. “Thank you.”
They drank in silence for a while then Harry thought to ask, “Did you ever find out if Parkinson and Brown are actually going to pay the wergild. Brown said something about being ruined.”
“Remember when we discussed the wergild?” Harry nodded. “I left Brown with enough to care for his family, if they are very frugal, but that is all. Parkinson, I intend to ruin completely. Pansy is a slut. I have absolutely no intention of having such a person in my family. So ... I just hope he challenges me to duel in public.” Lucius achieved an expression that was not only feral but satisfied.
Harry just shrugged. “I'll second you.”
Lucius bowed from his seated position, managing to look elegant and relaxed. “Thank you.”
.
Lucius left his solicitors office unsatisfied. Mr Parkinson was still digging in his heels. The man insisted that his daughter would never willingly dose someone with a potion. He couldn't believe that his precious Pansy was now in a holding facility charged with Potion Facilitated Assault and Assault on a Family Line. Lucius' threat to have her house arrest amended to incarceration had been ignored, so he'd carried it out.
The solicitor had advised that they quit, as he put it, faffing around and go to court. Taking the suit to court instead of settling out of court would lead to more publicity than Lucius wanted but he was willing to do that if necessary. He left instructions to make one more offer of out of court settlement then file papers.
As he walked, Lucius wondered what Harry was planning. He was sure it was going to be spectacular. He was a bit irritated that Harry wouldn't tell him anything. He supposed that Harry wanted to wait until he was sure everything he wanted was within tradition. He appreciated that a great deal.
Glancing around Lucius found Harry at Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour where he was devouring a huge sundae with evident enjoyment. Lucius joined him.
“Harry, the solicitor has just about given up on settling out of court. How are you going to feel about testifying in court.”
Harry made a face. “As long as it's not in Courtroom Ten, and I don't have to sit in that bloody chair, I'm fine.”
Luicus shook his head. “I really don't know what the hell Fudge was thinking.”
Harry shrugged but said with wisdom beyond his years, “Probably trying to scare me into saying Tommy wasn't back. That's when I really started not to trust him, or Dumbledore. Things worked out a bit too conveniently. And while we're on the subject, he's gone odd.”
“I've noticed.” Lucius nodded to the hovering waitress. “Tea, please.” She squeaked and scurried off to fetch it. “I am, however, very reluctant to push for an evaluation. It will not look good at all. Our animosity being so well known.”
Harry scooped the last of his sundae out of the dish, then held the spoon in mid air while he examined it. “Don't do anything. I've laid the groundwork with Professor McGonagall. You might ask Professor Snape to keep an eye on the old man, just as a favour to Hogwarts, you understand.”
Lucius eyed Harry for a moment as he shoveled the last of his ice cream into his mouth. “That's quite Slytherin of you. Well done. I will have a word or two with Severus.”
“Well, the hat did want to put me in Slytherin, you know.” Harry leaned back in his chair, sipping at his water.
Lucius looked surprised. “It did? That is interesting. And why didn't you go into the house of cunning?”
“Draco put me off. Ask him about it, as I'm not about to carry tales out of school.” Harry sighed, rejected the idea of any more ice cream and signaled the waitress to bring another cup with the pot of tea she was making up.
The tea things were set out and Lucius accepted the cup that Harry poured for him. “I am seriously thinking about challenging Parkinson to a duel. He is delaying for some reason. I do believe that he's trying to hide his assets from me.”
Harry snorted into his cup. “She-yeah! Like that will work.”
Lucius only said, “Harry! Manners.” although the reprimand was said in a mild tone. “If he thinks he is going to get away with that, he has lost the last of his ... er ... marbles?”
Harry nodded at Lucius' attempt to use idiomatic 'muggle', it could get quite amusing. But he did appreciate the attempt.
Harry picked up the tea pot, hefted it to see how much was left and realized that it was empty, or nearly so. “There's no more tea. Do you want to order another pot?”
Lucius finished the last of his cup, putting it down he said, “I do not believe so. We both need to be on our way. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Not much. I've gotten my inquiries started and I'll have to wait until I find out what the lawyers say before I can finalize anything. I thought I'd take the opportunity to paint. I haven't had time at school and there's no place for me to set up anyway. I caught Ernie Macmillan pinching a tube of paint.”
“What did you do to him?” Lucius knew how defensive Harry was over his paints.
Harry shrugged. “Not much. I just let him open it.” His smile gained a slightly evil touch. “It was oil.”
Lucius chuckled. “I assume that that ended people ... exploring your paint box.”
“No, the locking spell I put on it did.” Harry's expression turned satisfied.
“Oh? Which one did you use?”
“The screamer. The whole house was running to see who was getting murdered.” They both laughed over that. Then Harry said, “I do miss living in Gryffindor but things are much better now that I have private quarters. I can find my stuff and I don't run out of parchment, ink and pens. It’s amazing how roommates, or even housemates, seem to have some ... sense of entitlement. And really annoying.”
The conversation had continued through paying for their treats and getting out the door, but now it was interrupted by someone yelling Lucius' name.
“Malfoy! You bastard! I'll kill you!” Mr. Parkinson was the opposite of Mr. Brown. He was well dressed and neatly groomed, but no less insane for all that. “You've destroyed me. I'll be broke when the wergild is paid. And my little girl is in prison. I'm going to kill you for that.”
Lucius just sighed. “Parkinson, is it possible for us to take this off the street? I really do not think we should be airing your dirty linen in public like this.”
“No! Now! I'm not giving you a chance to wriggle out of this.” Parkinson strode across the street to get right in Lucius' face. Lucius didn't back up an inch, he stood toe to toe with the man.
“I would not dream of it. If you wish to fight with me, that is your prerogative. Suicide is, however, such a waste. Aurors will be here in a moment, I am sure. We will take this off the streets, collateral damage is such a nasty thing.” Lucius smirked at Parkinson as his remark about aurors was proven true, the cracks of them apparating in made several observers jump.
Lucius and Harry just stood and waited for one of the aurors to come question them. It didn't take long and Lucius answered the stream of quick questions calmly. The auror then went to question the auror who had spoken to Parkinson.
“Well?” The lead auror didn't want to hear what his subordinate had to say.
“Sorry, Parkinson won't be reconciled. I doubt that Malfoy would allow it anyway. Coercion by potion is a nasty thing.”
“Well, shite! Ok, let's get this done. Cordon off both ends of the street and set up protective wards to keep the shop fronts from being damaged.”
And with that, each auror returned to his subject and read them the rules of engagement.
Harry listened with interest. Professor Flitwick had explained them, but they weren't covering them in detail until after Christmas. He wondered if he shouldn't ask the professor to cover them sooner.
Lucius also listened, but with a rather bored expression on his face. Finally he interrupted, saying irritably, “Yes, yes, I know all that. Where are we going to do this?”
The auror, who's name they were never to learn, just pointed. “Right here. We've got a shield master coming to shield the shops and both ends of the street. We'll get it over with quickly. No sense in trying to move this dog and pony show. There'll be an outcry of indignation if we try to delay it. Parkinson will have a fit and all the people who want to watch will demand seating in the arena. It'll be days before we get it all sorted out.”
Lucius frowned, snarling, “Of course, we cannot deny the hoi-polloi their amusement, can we.”
The auror made a face. “I am sorry. I know you hate making a public spectacle of this but ... we have orders. I really think it's to stop claims of cheating by ... well, either party. So, who's to be your second.”
“I believe you have already taken that métier. You may continue. Harry, pay attention, for future reference.” Lucius turned his head and winked at Harry with his off eye. Harry just grinned back.
“Yes, sir. I'll do that. You ready.”
Lucius bowed slightly to the auror. “I am always ready. Proceed.”
The shield master turned out to be some Unspeakable who kept hidden in the depths of his silver gray cloak and hood. He even wore gloves of dark gray leather.
He stepped into the middle of the junction of Diagon Ally and Knockturn Alley. “Attention. This is a duel of honour between Lucius Malfoy and Peter Parkinson. The claims are, it seems, well known but will be repeated here. Mr Parkinson claims that Mr. Malfoy has maligned his daughter and impoverished his family with wergild claims that are not in accordance with the facts. Mr. Malfoy claims, and has proven, that Miss Pansy Parkinson drugged his son with a potion, irreversibly changing his status to that of property, thus robbing him of both son and heir and ending his line. The duel will be to first blood or unconsciousness or inability to continue combat. No Unforgivables. As Mr. Malfoy is the challenged, those rules are amended to include, no blades of any kind, only curses. Duellists, advance to the middle of the field.”
Lucius walked to face Parkinson, they turned back to back, wands in hand.
The Unspeakable went to his place in a doorway, waved his wand then announced, “Shields in place. You may begin.”
The team leader called, “One ... two ... three ... four ...” for every number called both combatants took one step forward, until the last number was called, then, “Turn! ... Duel!”
Lucius didn't bother to turn as the calls were so close together, instead he jumped to one side then whirled and cast his first hex, “Difodio!” cobblestones were thrown about as the hex cut a deep gouge right where Parkinson had been. He was running toward the mouth of Knockturn Alley, casting 'Everbero' and 'reducto' as he went. Lucius ran at the shield wall and right up it. His back flip made the observers gasp in unison as Parkinson's everbero went under him. As he flipped he cast an everbero of his own. It hit Parkinson in the chest with a loud thud, knocking him into the lamp post behind him.
They fought for several minutes, casting hexes and jinxes at each other. Parkinson was the sort who tried to bull his way through by brute force while Lucius was more refined and more deadly. He didn't 'come out swinging' he kept away from his opponent until he had all his moves down pat, then he unscrupulously exploited all of them.
In this case, Parkinson telegraphed his spells, even before he shouted them. Lucius knew what he was going to cast as soon as he did. The man seemed to know only three spells; or, at least, spells that were legal in this duel, and cast them in the same order every time.
Lucius had that order figured out, everbero, difodio, everbero, reducto and back again.
Lucius on the other hand knew a catalogue of spells that would have made him a wonderful defence teacher. He cast them in such a random order that Parkinson was always on the defensive. And to top everything, Parkinson didn't shield, while Lucius was quite capable of maintaining a low level shield that kept all but Parkinson's most powerful spells at bay.
Parkinson was showing signs of exhaustion which made Lucius more cautious, he knew that exhaustion led to desperation which in turn led to foolishness. He was wise to watch Parkinson more carefully. He was quick to cast 'bouclier', it was in French but was a very effective shield charm. The 'diffractum' it barely blocked would have fractured both his legs.
The watching aurors knew better than to interfere in an affaire d'honneur but Parkinson had just used a dark spell in public. He was on his way to a holding cell at the Ministry after the duel was done.
And done it was. Lucius lost his temper in that cold, dangerous way of his. He turned full face on to Parkinson and snarled, “You utter fool. Using Dark Arts in an affaire d'honneur on a public street.” he took a deep breath, “I tried, I really did, to let you settle this with your pride intact, but now ... Apis!” The stinging hex hit Parkinson on his wand hand, making him lose his grip. “Expelliarmus!” Parkinson's wand shot toward Lucius as Parkinson hit the shop front behind him with a resounding thud. He slid down to lay on the street in a pile of robes, limbs akimbo.
Lucius just tossed Parkinson's wand to the auror nearby. “Here. See to that mess, will you?” Lucius pushed his hair out of his face, combing his fingers through it to rearrange the locks that had been put out of place by his exertions. “Harry! Come! We're leaving.” he didn't bother to ask if he was needed, he didn't care. Let the minions of the Ministry deal with the mess, he was done.
He took Harry by the arm and apparated him back to Malfoy Manor with a loud crack. He was more than startled to find himself enveloped in a rather frantic hug.
“Papa, damn it, I was so scared! If he'd hurt you, that fucker would never have left that street in one piece.” Harry was babbling and he knew it but he couldn't stop.
Lucius got a very nasty feeling. “Harry, let me see your wand.”
Harry handed it over without protest. Lucius cast a quick spell and found that Harry had a spell that he shouldn't even have known already loaded and ready to cast.
Lucius grabbed Harry, turned him around and swatted him, hard. Harry yelped then gave Lucius a hurt look.
Lucius proved that he was all Malfoy by exclaiming, “Damn it, Harry! Never preload a spell like that. It'll get you caught every time.”
Harry just nodded, “Ok, but I meant it.”
Lucius sighed, rubbed his face and realized that no one in all his life had ever been ready to kill on his behalf. “Harry, I find myself totally without a thing to say. No one has ever ...” he trailed off.
Harry, wise beyond his years just said, “Tell me you wouldn't do the same for me.” he sighed too, “Suddenly, I find myself totally exhausted. I was going to paint but now ... I just want a nap.”
Lucius settled on one of the couches in the back parlour, where they'd somehow found themselves. “So do I.” Five minutes later Mimsey and Tuggy tip-toed in to cover their masters with afghans and slip off their shoes.
“They is so cute, sleeping like that.”
Tuggy just replied, “Shush.”
No one knew, or cared, that Peter Parkinson disappeared into the Ministry and never came out again.
.
Everbero - bludgeoning hex
Reducto - blasting curse
Difodio - gouging curse
Diffractum - Breaks bones on contact