Runaway.html

Harry woke up and stretched, then he froze. He didn't know where he was. He looked around carefully. The room was light and airy with walls covered in painted silk and paneling. The windows were large, and covered with gauzy under-drapes with dark blue velvet draperies. The colors of the bed hangings and duvet were a combination of blue and green that went beautifully together. Every fitting in the room was gold, from the candle holders between the windows to the sticks on the mantle piece and the door knobs.

He gazed around the room with wonder. It was huge. There was a sitting area near a fireplace that was nearly as big as the Dursleys bathroom with two chairs and a side table for each. There was also a nice desk and comfortable chair where, he assumed, he was to study or write letters. Near the foot of the bed was another chair and beyond that, to the side of the room, he could see a door. Farther on was another door. He wondered where they led but refrained from exploring. He still felt very weak and ill.

There was a soft tap on the door opposite the foot of the bed. Harry called, “Come in.” and blinked as Draco came in with a small rack of potions in one hand.

“Well, how do you feel?” Draco walked briskly to the side of the bed and looked down on Harry. “I have your potions here. Are you going to take them nicely? Or do I have to wrestle you some more?”

Harry started to glare at Draco but stopped when he realized that Draco's eyes were twinkling in amusement not scorn.

“Sorry. Um ... will you tell me what the hell is going on? Or do I have to guess?”

“Potions first.” Draco handed the first one to Harry who held it up to the light then downed it with a shudder. He obediently finished off all four potions without asking what they were. Draco couldn't help asking, “You're not going to refuse or even ask what they are?”

Harry shook his head. “The first one was a nutrient potion, the second one immune system booster, the third one a healing potion, specific to infections and the last one was a very mild calming draught.”

Draco boggled inelegantly at Harry who smirked back. “I've been in Madam Pomfrey's care enough to recognize most healing potions. Besides, I had time to study while I was away. I learned quite a bit that I was supposed to have learned in first through fifth. Snape is a shitty teacher, but I'm not half bad a student, when I want to be.”

Draco started to snap back a nasty rejoinder when he remembered that he was supposed to be taking care of Harry, not arguing with him. He gritted his teeth and held his tongue.

Harry realized that he'd managed to offend Draco, something he'd promised himself he wouldn't do. There was no sense antagonizing the Malfoys when he was ill and in their power. He wasn't sure where his wand was so he was more or less defenseless. “Um ... sorry. I didn't know you'd be so sensitive about your head of house.”

Draco looked somewhat mollified and answered, “That's because he's also my godfather. But I'll admit his teaching methods are ... irregular. At best.” Draco essayed a small smile and was rewarded when Harry smiled back. “And I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised that you recognize a healing potion when you taste it. You have had enough of them at Hogwarts.”

Harry grimaced. “They all taste ghastly. Why is that? And why don't you sit down?”

Draco settled in the chair, arranging his robes carefully. “Well, because you didn't offer until just now. That was an offer?”

Harry just nodded then commented, “Offer? It's your house.”

“But these are your quarters. I do have some manners. And Father would be very disappointed if I were stupid enough to get into a fight with you while you're so ill. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need anything?”

Harry started to say no, then realized that he had a rather pressing and embarrassing need.

“I need the loo.” Harry flushed, eyed the glossy, slippery looking hard wood floor between him and the bathroom and then gazed at Draco in what could only be characterized as a pleading manner. “I don't think I'll make it without some help.”

“Ah, and I'm to do so?” Draco nodded. “Very well. You do realize that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, don't you?”

Harry sighed. “Just sort of hold my arm so I don't fall on my arse.”

So Draco helped Harry into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Now what?”

Harry glanced at Draco who was just standing beside him. “You leave, I do my thing, then I call you and you help me back to bed. And maybe feed me?”

Harry took care of his business, washed his hands and eyed himself in the mirror over the sink. He wished he had his glasses, he couldn't see very well without them.

The bathroom was as well appointed as his bedroom, with a huge tub and a shower enclosure the size of a small closet. The walls were marble as was the floor. The ceiling was painted with ornate scrolls and ocean waves. He admired it and wondered when he was going to be moved to his real quarters.

“Draco! I'm done.”

Draco entered the room and helped Harry back to the bed. “There, all covered and cozy.” Harry shot Draco a disbelieving glance before settling into his pillows. “What? Mother used to say that to me when I was little. Sorry, I guess I ...” Draco trailed off as Harry reached out to pat his hand.

“That's ok. I guess I'm just a bit surprised. Why are you both, you and your dad, being so nice to me. When is Voldemort coming to get me?”

Draco's face filled with disgust and anger. “Never! Never say that name in my hearing. I hate him! I won't serve that maniac. That's ... he's ...” Draco flung away from the bed stalking back and forth at the foot, trying to calm himself enough that Harry wouldn't think he was crazed.

Harry watched Draco in surprise and interest. “Ok, that's good. I mean that he's not coming to get me. And that you won't serve him. But ... what brought all this on?

Draco snarled inarticulately for a moment then managed to snap, “Riddle is a right lunatic. And a bastard. If you'd seen what he did to Father you'd understand.”

Harry just shrugged slightly. “He did kill my parents, you know. And I didn't get this scar from a love pat. Glad you finally saw the light, so to say. I'm hungry, is there anything ...” He trailed off as Draco curled his lip.

“Yes, there's all sorts of things. What would you like? All you have to do is say 'Service.' and your elf will come.”

Harry brightened. “Dobby?”

Draco's face went discreetly blank for a moment then he just shrugged and said, “No, Mimsey. Father assigned her to you.”

Harry settled back against the pillows again, he'd leaned forward while speaking with Draco and called a bit tentatively, “Service, please.”

Mimsey popped in with a broad smile. “Mimsey is here, Sir. How may Mimsey serve?”

Harry eyed the elf for a moment. “Well, first, wash. I don't want anyone dirty getting near my food and second, food. I don't care what. Um...anything that suits? I'm just hungry. Please?”

Mimsey nodded. “Mimsey will be back soon. Washing first is taking time. But Mimsey will tell Cook that Master Harry Potter is hungry.” She disappeared with a soft pop.

Draco eased into the chair again and settled back to wait for Mimsey to come back with Harry's food.

When she returned and settled the tray across Harry's legs, Harry smiled happily. There was a nice bowl of soup and a cup of tea, bread and butter and marmalade. Mimsey bobbed a quick, clumsy curtsey and popped out again. Draco noticed that not only was she wearing a clean towel, but she was scrupulously clean as well.

Harry ate quickly, gulping the soup and tea then buttering the bread and pilling on the marmalade. He lay back with a sigh.

Draco couldn't help his expression of disgust. Harry shot a sheepish glance his way and flushed. Draco smoothed out his expression, eating around Weasley must have been a real trial to make Harry gobble up his food like that.

Harry suddenly sat up straight and started struggling to get out of bed. His feet tangled in the covers so Draco tried to push him back down to untangle him. Harry, mistaking Draco's efforts to help him get up as an attempt to keep him in bed, struggled harder.

“Be still, you git. You're tangled in the sheets.” Draco tried harder to hold Harry down, while Harry struggled harder to get up.

“What the devil is going on in here?” Lucius was shocked to see Draco and Harry wrestling on the bed. “Draco, stop that at once. He's much to ill to be ...”

Harry proved just exactly how ill he still was by vomiting violently, all over himself and the bed. Draco had managed to get out of the way by jumping back the second Lucius had started speaking.

Both Draco and Lucius were startled when Harry whimpered softly. “I'm sorry, I'll clean it. Just ...”

Lucius snapped. He flicked his wand and cleared away the mess then turned to Draco to demand. “Just exactly what the devil did you think you were doing?”

Draco didn't bother with excuses he just admitted. “He was tangled in the sheets. I was trying to keep him from falling and hurting himself.” Draco turned to Harry who was still in the bed, face flushed with humiliation. “Harry, I'm really sorry. I had no idea. If you'd have told me, I'd have conjured a basin.”

Harry looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment. He was waiting for Draco to say something sarcastic then what Draco was saying penetrated. “I ... um ... it's ok. I'm sorry I made a mess.”

Lucius broke in with, “Enough. Is this a common occurrence?”

Draco bit at his lip then admitted, “He's usually sick off and on for the first week or two of the first term. Then, well, he puts on weight and stops.”

Lucius 'connected the dots' and scowled at the picture he'd made. “I see. Harry, I am going to ask you some questions and I expect honest answers. I'm not Dumbledore, I don't have any objective outside protecting my family, which you are now part of. I'm going to start our conversation by asking, Do you need a stomach calming draught?”

Harry blinked rather owlishly at Lucius, he needed his glasses. He hadn't been wearing his contacts as he couldn't take care of them on the streets. He hadn't had them since he'd been caught. “Yes, and I'd really like my glasses too, please.”

Lucius looked at Draco. Draco shook his head. “I have no idea. I'll ask Mimsey. She'll know, if anyone does.” Draco called the elf and told her to bring Harry's glasses and wand. Mimsey just said that Harry's wand was on the dresser. He had completely forgotten that he'd placed it there when they'd brought Harry 'home'. He retrieved it and handed it to Harry with a small bow. “Here's your wand. I'm so sorry I put it out of reach.”

Harry stared at Draco as if he'd grown two heads. “Why do you keep apologizing to me?”

Draco sighed. “No idea. It just seems ... Never mind.”

Harry decided to forget that small question for the bigger ones bouncing around in his aching head.

Meanwhile, Lucius had told Mimsey to find Harry's glasses and his backpack. Mimsey just went into the walk-in closet and produced the requested items, putting them on the foot of Harry's bed she bowed and popped out again.

Harry put on his glasses and clutched his wand in one hand. He still felt sick and weak so he settled back in bed and just waited for Lucius to explain himself.

Lucius gazed at Harry for several moments. He was no fool, no matter what anyone said, and he knew the signs of an abused child when he saw them. He wondered again at Dumbledore's handling of Harry. This defensive, suspicious man-child was never going to be the tool that Dumbledore thought he would be. Honesty was going to be the only way to reach him. Total honesty and a firm hand.

“I have turned my coat. Voldemort is insane. When I started to serve him, he upheld the true Old Traditionalist customs. Now, he tortures his loyal followers for no reason except to amuse himself. I will not follow him.” He gave Draco a startlingly loving look. “Draco won't tolerate him for a second. So ... I have to make other arrangements to protect my family. To a true Traditionalist, family is all.”

Harry thought about that for a moment and had to admit that it made some sense. He still didn't trust Malfoy but he was willing to wait and see. Not that he had many other choices.

“Oh, ok, I guess. I ... ugh!” Harry doubled over as his stomach cramped, as it did when he'd eaten to quickly after going without for so long. The vomiting hadn't helped either.

Lucius caught him as Harry doubled up and eased him back in the bed. “Draco, have Mimsey get that stomach calming draught then send to the kitchen for some weak tea and dry toast.” Draco did as Lucius ordered while Lucius fussed over Harry.

Surprisingly, Draco didn't feel in the least jealous, actually he felt a bit sad. This was the side of Harry that no one but Ron ever saw and he wasn't sure he liked it much. Harry looked ill, tired and defenseless.

Mimsey returned with the required potion and food then stood wringing her hands. “Is young master alright? Is Mimsey doing something wrong? Should Mimsey punish herself?”

Harry groaned then whispered, “I'm fine, just a bit ... stomach. Sorry. Don't punish her, she did the best she knew how.”

Lucius said softly, “She's your elf, only you have the right to punish her. If you do not desire it, she'll not be punished.”

“I don't. I ... oh ...” Harry surged up again and Lucius thrust a basin under his chin. Harry tried to help but couldn't manage more than keeping his face over the basin. Draco hurried to help, clutching the draught in one hand.

“Here. If it doesn't help, I'll call the medi-wizard.”

Harry swallowed the potion without complaint, he felt so bad that he was almost hoping that one of the Malfoys would murder him. It would be a relief. He didn't realize that he'd said that out loud until Lucius said in a flat, angry tone, “Never let me hear you say such a thing again. No one will murder you here. You're my ward and I assure you that I take my responsibilities seriously.”

Draco nodded his head then startled Harry by exclaiming, “Besides, you've got a contract. Father can't violate the terms of a Guardianship Contract, it's not possible.”

Harry sighed and decided to give up for now. His stomach was still protesting the rich butter and marmalade. “Ok, I have a contract. Nice. Uncle Vernon was always violating the terms of his contracts but ...” He caught sight of identical arrogantly scornful glares. “Never mind. I'm still to sick to argue.” He nestled into his pillows. “If I really have a contract, I'd like Ron to take a look at it. He's really brilliant with that sort of thing. I wish...”

“Wish and, if it is in my power, I'll grant it. But, for now, go to sleep the minute you've had this tea and toast.”

Harry rolled his head wearily on his pillow. “Don't want it. That potion ... they just kill my appetite.” But Lucius wasn't taking no for an answer and coaxed and cajoled until Harry had gotten it all down.

Draco waited until Lucius had left then touched Harry gently. “You might as well give up. When father is determined on something it's like ... like a force of nature. I'm well aware that my standing up to him on Voldemort was some sort of fluke.”

“Yeah, I can tell. I wish I understood what is going on. Why did ... Chauncy. lock me up like that. What..” Harry trailed off in confusion.

Draco couldn't help snarking a bit. “What is going on is exactly what it looks like. Believe it or not, we're now brothers. Chauncy's name is never to be mentioned again. Father told him to keep you there and notify us at once ... if someone actually managed to get hold of you. ”

Harry gave Draco a horrified look then just sighed. “Go away. I'm too tired and too sick for this.” He resolutely closed his eyes and pulled the covers up to his ears. Draco wisely went away.

.

Lucius commanded Draco to the library and pointed to the chair in front of it. “Sit. I want to know everything you left out. Every single thing.”

Draco shrugged. “You're not going to like it.”

“Probably not. What the hell did those muggles do to him to make the streets seem safer?”

So Draco talked. Lucius had seen the cupboard and supposed that it was used for punishment, something he found appalling enough. But to find out that the young Savior of the Wizarding world had actually lived in it. Stayed in it unless he was being worked half to death. He was disgusted, to say the least, and he truly wondered if Dumbledore wasn't senile.

“I see. You're sure they actually starved him?”

“Father, you've never seen him just after term begins. He's never looked as thin as this but he's always skinny as a stick.”

Lucius gazed into the near distance for several seconds. “So, the muggles are even worse than I thought they would be. Hmmm, and Dumbledore thinks leaving Harry with the Dursleys will convince him to protect muggles, how? Strange. Very, very strange. What is going on in that old coot's head?”

Draco shrugged irritably. “I have no idea, but Harry's not going to trust us, not anytime soon. No matter what he acts like. I expect him to ... act out, try your patience. And I'm not sure what to do about it.”

“I'm not either. But I have to abide by the terms of the contract. If I violate them, there'll be hell to pay. The only reason you have been allowed to escape some punishments is your condition disallows them.”

Draco's sour expression made Lucius snort. “Well, enough of these heart burnings. What do you think about his present condition?”

Draco just shook his head. “He's very good at hiding how bad off he is. If he says he's fine, that only means that he has managed to avoid being dismembered. Right now, I'd say he's on the verge of total collapse. He'll need careful management to keep him from taking off the second our backs are turned.”

“Should I be worried?” Lucius could see Harry sneaking out of the house and disappearing as they sat there.

“No, he's too sick to take off just yet. And, if we instruct Mimsey to keep an eye on him, she'll do it.” Draco called for Mimsey who popped in at once. “I know Father gave you to Harry Potter, but this is important. You must tell us if he tries to leave the house. He's too sick to do so and could hurt himself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master Draco, sir. Mimsey is doing as you say. Master Harry, sir, is very sick. He tries to hide it, but Mimsey can tell.” She bowed and disappeared.

Draco sat, sipping the tea that they always had together and came to a conclusion. “Father, I think we should get Weasley to come visit as soon as Harry's able. But not Granger. She'll go running to Dumbledore, she's convinced that he's the only one capable of making decisions about anything. Let Weasley see the contract if Harry asks. Weasley is an idiot in a lot of ways, but don't play chess with him. And I have heard that he loves contract law. He was talking about an apprenticeship until he found out how much they cost.”

Lucius just made a humming sound deep in his throat and nodded.

.

Neville Longbottom eyed the young mint plants with a jaundiced eye. He loved Herbology and was going to go into the field, Potions or no. But planting out flats of mint was not his idea of fun. He was more interested in tinctures, tonics and plasters. And tisanes.

He finished potting up the young plants and turned to harvesting some other herbs. Professor Sprout was going to teach him a new formula for a tincture and a tea. Things were beginning to look up a bit. He just hoped that Harry was found soon. Who knew what was happening to him?

After settling his mind he bent to his task of harvesting then went into the professors office. She wasn't there, all that was was a note that he was to follow the recipe exactly, weigh out exactly one and a half grams and package it in the envelopes on the work table then seal them with wax and the seal next to the wax pot. This worried Neville, Professor Sprout didn't usually leave him on his own like this, something was going on. He wondered what for a moment then turned his thoughts to the task at hand.

.

Ron Weasley had to admit that he was really worried, Draco had been taken home and Harry was still missing. Neville was working with Professor Sprout a lot and Seamus was retaking Arithmancy so that left him with Hermione and Parvati Patil. Not a happy thing for a guy who needed to let off steam once in a while. He was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

The owl that fell into his tea at dinner saved his sanity. It was a summons to come home for the long week-end. He fed Errol a bit of bacon as he read the letter. The poor owl just sat on the table for several minutes looking tired and a bit frowsy. Ron wished he could get his parents a new owl, not only because they needed one but also because Errol was getting way too old to be carrying mail. He stroked the birds head. “Why don't you go to the owlery and rest. I'll send my reply back with Pig.” Errol made a grumbling noise and flapped his wings, taking off in a flurry of feathers.

Hermione grimaced, she was going to have to go home for the long weekend as well. All the professors were having parent teacher conferences and students were required to either go home or stay in their House. This was going to put her way behind in her studies. She had wanted to research the last potion Snape had assigned them. Hers had been a total failure and she wasn't sure why. She knew that she'd done everything correctly so why her potion had boiled over and dissolved part of the worktable was beyond her. She sighed, life was so unfair.

.

Lucius tapped on the door and then entered without waiting for a summons. It was, after all, not only his house but his ward as well. He was not pleased by what he saw.

Harry was hollow eyed and feverish again. Lucius checked to be sure that his bell was within reach. It was so he knew where to place the blame.

“Harold James Potter, what are you thinking? You're sick again. Why didn't you ring for Mimsey?”

Harry opened one eye and moaned. Lucius eased Harry into a sitting position and pressed his cheek against Harry's forehead. He was burning up again. Lucius rang the bell on the night stand and, when Mimsey popped in, snarled, “Tell Master Draco to come at once, then bring me a fever reducing potion and a calming draught. Go.” Mimsey popped out and returned almost at once with the potions.

Lucius held Harry in position and eased behind him. After settling Harry back against his shoulder he put a potion to his lips and urged softly, “Drink this, it'll make you feel better. Come, Harry, swallow it.” He dribbled a bit of the potion into Harry's mouth and Harry swallowed it. The expected reaction to the taste was that Harry would spit it out, he didn't, instead he swallowed it, making a face. “Good boy. Another.” Lucius tried the other potion with the same results.

The tap on the door let Lucius know that Draco was there. He called to Draco to come in then sighed. The expression on Draco's face was priceless, a combination of horror, amusement and confusion.

“He's sick again? I thought he was getting better. You look very comfortable there, but ... um. A little touchy-feely maybe?”

Lucius snorted. “You didn't think so when you had the dragon pox. I've done exactly the same thing for you every time you've been sick. He's feverish again. I thought he was on the mend too.”

“I think we should call the medi-wizard again.”

Lucius thought about that for a moment. “If his fever doesn't go down in half an hour. It'll take the potion that long to take hold.”

“Fine. Breakfast? I'm starved.”

“Please. Have it set up there.” Lucius pointed to the open area in the middle of the room. “We'll take it in turn to eat.”

“Very well. I'll be back in a moment. I have a chapter to finish and I'd like to have it done by noon.”

Lucius just nodded, rested his cheek on the top of Harry's head and started to hum again.

Harry sighed in his sleep, the calming draught combined with the fever reducer had sent him into restful, healing sleep. He didn't dream, really, but he registered what was going on around him as one. He liked the humming, it made him feel safe, as did the strong arms around him. He unconsciously snuggled against Lucius.

Draco had to smile at the picture they presented, Lucius was running his fingers through Harry's bangs, humming softly. He turned his head to look at Draco and nodded. Draco moved to help him shift Harry onto the bed so he could get up and eat some breakfast. Harry made an unhappy little noise then subsided again. Draco watched him for a moment then settled in the bedside chair.

Lucius ate his breakfast then called for a house elf to bring something for Draco. They exchanged places and Draco had his meal. They both watched Harry sleep, worrying over the new addition to their family.

He wasn't getting better. Lucius cast a tempus then checked Harry's fever and pain levels. His fever was 102 degrees and the Dolor Modus was still more red than green. Lucius went to call Mw. Thomas.

The medi-wizard stepped through the floo and followed Draco back to Harry's room. He calmly sent both Draco and Lucius out of the room and set to his examination. He cast several diagnostic spells and then crossed his arms over his chest while he thought.

“How sick am I, really?” Harry had stayed still while the medi-wizard did his examination, but now he wanted answers.

Mw Thomas jumped. “Oh, goodness. Well, young man, you should be out cold. But, since you're awake and aware, you're very ill. You have pneumonia, malnutrition, a bad case of post-Cruciatus, and some sort of digestive upset that I can't figure out.”

Harry nodded. “Oh, I see. Is that why I'm not getting better? The digestive thing, I mean?”

“Yes, I do think that's it. The potions are not entering your system as expected. I need to figure out what is interfering with your digestion. I need to ask you a whole list of questions but I have to have your guardians permission. I'll just ask Lucius to step back in. Also, he'll have to be here while I ask my questions. Be aware that my oath as a healer forbids me to discuss my findings with anyone but your guardian. All right?”

Harry nodded and settled back in the bed. He thought hard until Lucius came in. He had always hidden his troubles, believing that no adult would do anything to help him. He remembered something that Johnny had told him, “Give us a chance, if we don't help you, then you can be angry without guilt.” So he would give Lucius Malfoy a chance.

Lucius came in and silently settled into the chair, Mw. Thomas sat in another, placed by a silent Mimsey. Draco slipped into a place behind Lucius half hidden by the chair.

“Now, with Lucius's permission, I'm going to ask you some questions. Just answer truthfully, no one is going to make fun of you or ...” Lucius scowled at Mw. Thomas, who just shrugged and continued on with his reassurances that no one would think less of him no matter his answers.

Harry answered the medi-wizard's questions as honestly as he could. The medi-wizard's expression never changed but Lucius and Draco both seemed to freeze. The cold expressions on their faces didn't escape Harry's notice. He continued his answers until the medi-wizard was satisfied.

Then Lucius spoke, his voice like a splash of cold water. “Are you ... you are telling me that you had nothing but gruel while you were in the town house?”

Harry nodded. “It was sort of ... bad. I didn't like the taste of it much and it was oily. I'm sorry. Don't be mad. Skezy did the best she could.”

Lucius sat, rigid in his chair, as he thought furiously. “Skezy! Come here!” Harry started, could the elf hear Lucius all the way there?

It seemed that she could as she popped in at once. “Yes, Master? How may Skezy serve?”

Lucius eyed her up and down until she was trembling in her towel. “I want to know exactly what Master Potter had to eat while he was with you.”

Skezy twisted the hem of her towel in both hands while she replied. “Gruel, sir. The Chauncy man didn't give orders for the young master to be fed at all but Skezy is knowing that he must eat. Elveses is forbidden to even touch Master Chauncy's food so Skezy is putting extra Moogra oil on the gruel for the young master. Is Skezy doing wrong? Skezy is very sorry, she did the best she knew how.”

Lucius sighed, rubbed his face and dismissed the elf. “Well, that tears it.”

Mw. Thomas sighed too. “You're right. Moogra oil! What on earth ... this Chauncy must have known that the elves had no access to wizard food, what was he thinking?”

Harry cleared his throat. “He was thinking that he'd break me. But I'm used to little food and bad living conditions so all he did was piss me off. I tried to escape but that didn't work out too well. What is Moogra oil?”

“House elves consider it a condiment, like salt or pepper and it has some nutritional benefits for them. It's not so good for wizards however, it does all sorts of undesirable things. And it stays in the digestive tract, blocking the receptors there. You're not absorbing the nutrients from the food you eat.”

Lucius grumbled, “Not that he's eaten all that much. He sicked up most of what he ate.” He leaned back in his chair, that bland expression on his face. The one that said he was going to hex someone. “So, what do we do now.”

“I have to do some research. Give him easily digested foods and a nutrient potion three times a day. I'd suggest he eat small meals about every three hours or whenever he's hungry. We'll have to find some way to flush the oil out of his system. When I know what to do, I'll send you instructions. And potions, I'm sure.” He couldn't help but smile at Harry's expression. “Yes, young sir, I'm sure they'll taste delightful.”

Harry just sighed. “I'm sure they will. Why do I keep relapsing? I want to get better but despite all the potions and stuff, I keep ... getting worse, I think.”

“Your system has been over stressed for much too long a time. You'll take some doing to get back on your feet. I want you to quit worrying about anything. You have a contract. Lucius is scrupulous about such things. Now.” He clapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. “The pneumonia is what is causing you to feel so bad, along with a slight amount of nerve damage from what amounts to several hours under Cruciatus.” At Lucius's alarmed expression he hurried to say, “It's not bad, a few doses of Nerve potion and he'll be fine. The pneumonia should clear up under the influence of the immune system booster and nutrient potions along with good food and the removal of that oil should finish the job. It's not going to happen over night and he needs a great deal of rest just now.” He headed for the door calling to Harry over his shoulder. “I'll finish my research as quickly as I can. You rest.” Lucius followed him out.

Harry lay back and sighed, the poking and prodding he usually suffered through with Madam Pomfrey had been reduced to a few gentle prods and several very complicated diagnostic spells. He was relieved in one way but he was worried about the diagnosis. Moogra Oil? What was that? And what had it done to him? The medi-wizard's explanations hadn't been very informative.

Draco was sitting in the chair the medi-wizard had vacated with a worried look on his face. Harry decided it was time for a test.

“Ok, so what did the medi-wizard actually say?”

Draco gazed at Harry speculating on what he should tell him, he decided to be brutally honest. “A lot. You've gone hungry so much that your system is off balance. You're short on micro nutrients and vitamins that help you heal, your immune system just can't cope anymore. The pneumonia should have cleared up with that potion you had last night. You just don't have the resources you need to do the job. And I know you've never heard of Moogra oil. It's very dangerous for wizards to consume. It blocks the receptors in your digestive system so they can't take in nutrients. So you're not getting any good out of the food you do eat. You're in a lot of trouble. But don't worry. Moogra oil is easily bound to a carrier, it just takes time.” He gave Harry what he hoped was a reassuring look. “You'll be a pain in my arse again in no time.”

Harry gave Draco a doubtful look, but asked his next question. “The medi-wizard said I have a contract? What? I mean, contract?” He stumbled into silence, only giving Draco a slightly panicked look.

“Every wizarding child has a contract of guardianship. Most with their parents, traditional families have actual written ones, some with a guardian and those are always written. I'm actually surprised that you don't have one with the Dursleys. But Dumbledore ... well, the old coot is ... either very trusting or ...”

Harry interrupted Draco's thinking pause with, “Or didn't give a damn what happened to me as long as I was still his little tool. A wand to wave then put back in its box until he needed me again. I'm a bit slow, but I'm not really stupid and the muggles I was living with ... well, they taught me a lot.” He broke off in a coughing fit that made his eyes water.

Draco handed him a handkerchief and waited while he wiped his eyes. Then Draco handed Harry a potion. “This is a cough suppressant, don't bolt it. Sip it so it has time to do its work. It doesn't taste too bad, very licorice.” Draco wrinkled his nose, he wasn't that fond of the taste but cherry didn't hide the taste of the active ingredient.

Harry obediently sipped the potion and he too wrinkled his nose at the taste. “It tastes better than other potions only ... it's rather aggressively licorice.” He sipped again. “My throat already feels better. Should I finish it or keep it for later?”

“Keep it for later. I'll bring you some more in a while. Father will be back to explain some stuff to you and I'll go to the stillery room and make more.”

Harry looked startled. “You made this?”

Draco stiffened. “I did. Something wrong?”

Harry couldn't help a small smile. “No, as I haven't dropped dead or sprouted tentacles or spots, I don't think so.”

Draco snorted and leaned back in his chair. “Well, fine then.”

Harry realized that he was falling asleep again just as he did exactly that.

.

After his consultation with the medi-wizard Lucius was ready to eat nails and spit horse shoes. Potter had been subjected to some of the worst abuse he'd ever heard of. And he, as a Death Eater, had seen and heard of some pretty bad things. The part he particularly objected to was that Harry had been a child when it started. The wizarding world was a hard, cruel place but it did tend to wrap its children in cotton wool. Punishments could be harsh but rewards were extravagant too. At least in his world.

Now he was absolutely outraged, and he would have revenge. He just had to figure out how to do it.

He checked on Harry and saw that he was still asleep with Draco in attendance.

“Draco, come into the library for a moment. I want to talk to you and I don't want to disturb Harry.”

Draco followed his father into the library, smirking slightly. He knew his father better than anyone, including his mother, so he was fairly sure what was wanted.

“Yes? Do I even have to ask?”

“Probably not. What do we do?”

Draco managed to avoid looking too self-satisfied. “Well, I did hex them all about ... three months ago.” At Lucius's look he hastened to reassure him. “Not anything deadly. Just a double hex. And one half is one that a lot of girls use for reducing. None of them can get full, and they get very little nourishment from the food they do eat. That's the reducing one.”

Lucius nodded. “Quite ingenious. But we need something that makes sure they know exactly why they're being punished.”

Draco subsided into thought, absently nibbling at his lip. “There's something called Child Protecting Services or something like that. They take an interest in child abuse and neglect. Granger was babbling about it once. Now, who do I know that is muggle, we have to do something about that appellation, and will talk to me. Besides Granger.” Draco looked up sharply. “Father, do not let Granger know Po ... Harry is here. She'll run to Dumbledore for sure.”

“I believe we've already covered that.” Lucius raised an eyebrow at Draco.

Draco just shrugged, an elegant, French sort of gesture. “Sorry. Hmmmm, maybe ... Covington. He's fourth year, Hufflepuff and ... sort of, not aware, if you know what I mean. But he knows about such things.”

“Is he discrete?”

Draco sneered. “No, but he's afraid of me.”

“Go see what you can find out. And while you're out, remove the hexes from the Dursleys. It wouldn't do for the Aurors to get mixed up in this somehow and discover a hex on a muggle.”

Draco stood, bowed slightly to Lucius, an Old Traditionalist custom, and left.

He made his way to the floo and called Covington's home. He spoke with Mrs. Covington, who was glad to speak to anyone from Hogwarts. It seemed that her son was singularly close-mouthed about things at Hogwarts. Draco immediately took advantage of this and offered to tell her some stories in return for some help from her. She agreed and he stepped through, glad that the Malfoy's still had a universal floo instead of a standard one.

“Malfoy, Draco. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Draco bowed gracefully over the woman's hand and kissed her knuckles. She smelled of carnations and some fruity something.

Mrs. Covington led Draco into the sitting room and offered tea. Draco accepted before he realized that she was going to have to make it. He followed her into the kitchen with some interest.

She smiled and told him, “You don't have to come into the kitchen, you can stay in the sitting room.”

Draco was much wiser than that, however, and announced, “I've never been in a muggle kitchen, or even in the kitchen at the manor either. Shall I sit here?” He indicated one of the chairs at the kitchen table and at Mrs Covington's nod settled in it.

“You've never been in a kitchen? Is that unusual?”

“I've been in the kitchens at Hogwarts. It's customary to sneak in and get treats from the elves, although it's prohibited, officially. But I've never been in the kitchens at home, nor do I know anyone who would offer me a space at the kitchen table. My family is Old Traditionalist, rarified circles and all that. Not unusual in my circle for a wife to live in her husband's home and never enter the lower house at all.”

“Oh, I ... see. Um ... Malfoy? I know Arnold has mentioned you but ... I can't quite remember what he said.”

“Probably just that I'm in Slytherin House. We don't have much to do with each other. And that brings me to why I'm here actually. I need to report a case of child abuse. Rather severe actually. And, since the offenders are muggle, the Aurors aren't equipped to do anything about it.”

Mrs Covington set the pot on the table and got a tin of cookies off the nearby counter. “Biscuit?” Draco accepted and nibbled on it while she continued, “Do you have any proof? There has to be some substantiating evidence.”

“Um ... the child in question disappeared during the Christmas holidays, shortly before or after Christmas Day. He has been missing since and they've not reported it. The man and wife are separated and there's some evidence that he beat her at least once. The son is ... in therapy for anger issues and that's disquieting as well. “

The lady frowned over her tea cup and then sighed. “This isn't good. Sometimes one member of a family will be the scapegoat. If that member disappears, by rescue, murder, or runaway, another member is often chosen by the abuser, or the whole family begins to suffer. It sounds like this may be the case. Since he is a wizard, is there any chance that he might be hiding by magic?”

“No, there's a law about underage magic use. Young wizards and witches can ... cause all sorts of problems with out of control magic. So you see why I'm so concerned.”

“Yes I do. I'll look into it myself. I'm a social worker with CPS. Name and any other particulars of both the victim and the family.”

So Draco hid his glee and gave her all the information he had about the Dursleys, which was a great deal more than anyone could have suspected. He left, full of tea, biscuits and satisfaction. Vernon Dursley was in for a very uncomfortable time, Petunia as well. He wasn't so sure about Dudley.

.

Harry woke to Lucius calling his name softly. “Harold, wake up. Come now, potion time.”

Harry grumbled softly. “It's Harry. Gimmie.”

Lucius didn't really understand so he just handed Harry the first potion. “Sorry, I didn't understand that grouchy grumble.”

Harry swallowed the potion. “It's Harry, not Harold. Sorry, I'm not really awake yet.” He rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses, wishing for his contacts.

“Harry, I see. What in the world...never mind. Next potion.”

Harry eyed the small rack of open potion tubes, they looked like a set of muggle test tubes in a wooden holder. “How many and what are they?”

“Don't you trust me yet? I'm sorry.” Lucius managed to look both dignified and crushed.

“Sort of. But I really like to know what I'm taking, call me crazy.”

“Not really, come to think of it. So ... Nutrient potion, a potion to move the oil out of your system, immune system booster, nerve repairing potion, and one for the pneumonia.”

Harry nodded then asked, “Nerve repairing potion? What's that for?”

“The after effects of your escape attempts resemble the effects of suffering Cruciatus, this will repair the effects. You're a very stubborn young man.”

Harry shrugged and held out his hand for the next potion. “So you've had to hire a brew master just for me, or is Draco making them?” He swallowed the potion with a disgusted grimace.

“No, I didn't hire a brew master, and Draco isn't making all of the potions. He does make most of the household potions. Headache remedies and stomach calming draughts and so on. These potions are specialities except for the nutrient potion, which Draco did brew. Do you object?”

Harry shook his head. “No, he's really very good at potions. I wish I was, but ... next please.”

Lucius resolved to make sure that Harry was truly up to speed before he went back to Hogwarts, handed him the next potion and smiled at Harry's expression.

When Harry was done taking his potions he felt much better, he knew it wasn't going to last so he decided to make his requests before he 'crashed' again.

“Sir? I'd like to write to Frankie and Johnny and tell them I'm safe. If that's ok?”

Lucius was astounded that Harry even thought of the two men, but he knew any refusal of a reasonable request wasn't in his best interests. “I'll bring you a lap desk and send it off at once. Do you have any idea what you want to say?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, thank you. And could I have my backpack? I need to ... shit!”

“Language Harry. What do you need?”

“I left all my homework at Frankie and Johnny's place and most of my other stuff as well. I only have some clothing and stuff. I'd really like to have my books and things. I need to work on my assignments. I've been doing the end of chapter reviews and that. And ... never mind.”

Lucius just left in a swirl of robes. He never trusted a house elf to bring a desk, they always forgot either the ink or the quills. He returned quickly and found Harry staring off into space biting his lip.

“Are you alright? What is wrong?”

Harry jumped slightly. “Nothing's wrong, I'm just trying to decide what to tell them and how to get my stuff. And I need to do this quickly or I'll never get it done today. I'm feeling pretty good right now but I”ll be out of it by three. And I still want to ask some questions. Like: why did you let that man chain me up? If you're supposed to be my guardian, I don't think that was a very good idea. And ... well, I'd just like a reasonable explanation, that's all.”

“Well, here's the desk. Why don't you just write down everything you want to say, edit it then copy it out. That should do. They don't expect an epistle, just a note telling them you're ok and a request to give me your things. They will, don't you think? Give me your things, I mean? Then, when you're done, I'll explain it all. Satisfactorily, I hope.”

Harry took a sheet of fools cap out of the desk and started writing. “I really, really wish there was a pencil in here. I hate these quills, messy damn things. I've gotten ink all over my hand already.”

Lucius wondered what a pencil was but he flicked his wand and cleaned Harry's hand for him. “You need to learn an ink eradicating spell. Here, why don't you dictate your thoughts to me. I'll help you organize them then you can copy off the final draft in your good hand.”

Harry blinked at Lucius for a moment then thanked him, handed him the desk and tried to organize his thoughts while Lucius got settled.

Harry dictated his letter and Lucius realized that it was concise, polite, informative and to the point. Gossipy enough to be reassuring, but not all inclusive. Very Slytherin in fact. He was pleased and a bit surprised at how pleased he was.

Harry copied it off in his best hand, seated at his new desk as he refused to even try to write in bed. Lucius sealed it with a plain seal then remarked, “You need to get your seal and put it in your desk.”

Harry gave him a puzzled look. “My seal? I don't have a seal. Do I?”

Lucius found himself scowling ferociously. Harry ducked. Lucius managed to smooth out his expression.

He took a deep breath then said as calmly as he could, “Yes, you have a seal. As the last of the line, you're the head of the Potter family and thus, you are entitled to use the family seal. And the Black family seal as well. I need to have a talk with you about your finances soon. But ... that's all for later. I'll take this to Messieurs. James and Thomas. Get some rest, you're already alarmingly pale. I'll set Mimsey to watch you until I get back. Then I'll explain what happened at the town house. Excuse me.”

With that he left to see if he couldn't deliver Harry's message to his friends, and ask some questions.

.

Frankie opened the door to the sharp knock. Lucius just nodded to him and held out Harry's letter.

Frankie grabbed it, barked, “Come in.” and yelled for Johnny. Lucius decided there and then that, muggle or not, he liked these two men.

Johnny came running, the urgency in Frankie's voice convincing him something was either very wrong or very right. It was very right.

“It's a letter. A letter from Harry. Oh, my god, Harry's Ok. Thank goodness. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I know ... um ... you don't approve of us, but this is ... just thank you.”

Lucius just smiled slightly then said softly, “And what, may I ask, gave you the idea that I didn't approve of you?”

Johnny shrugged. “We're the owner/managers of a Gay BDSM night club. Need I go on?”

“Is it lucrative?” Johnny nodded. “Then no. And you are sadly mistaken if you think that would put me off you. I've done much worse in my life than provide a haven for people with different tastes.”

Frankie looked at Lucius for a moment then said, “You did notice the gay part, right?”

Lucius shrugged, “I'm bi myself. I believe that's what you call it when a man has no preferences in the gender of his lovers? Yes?”

They both nodded and relaxed. Lucius took time to really look around. The apartment was neat, clean and well appointed. The furniture was comfortable and clean. He was as impressed as he ever was by muggles. He was even more impressed when Frankie got in his face. “Where is Harry? All this note says is he's ok.”

“He's at my home in the country. He's quite ill right now. He's been living in the streets since I scared him off here.”

Johnny gave Lucius a cold glare that rivaled one from Snape. “And?”

“I've had a ... doctor to see him. He's getting better, the medicines are already taking effect. I'll bring him to visit as soon as he can travel. I swear.”

He got a close look from Frankie who finally nodded his head. “His stuff is in here. We packed it all up and put it away.”

Lucius realized that things were getting awkward so he just followed the two men to what had been Harry's room. It was as nice and well appointed as the rest of the apartment so he felt he should compliment it. “It's very nice. Almost a flat itself. And an en suite. You've been very good for Harry. Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking us? We did it for Harry.” Johnny started to look angry but suppressed his urge.

“I'm thanking you because Harry is my ward. As his guardian it is my duty, and in this case pleasure, to thank people who do a service for him. He'll be sending a longer letter as soon as he's feeling up to it and I did promise a visit. I don't promise often as that way I don't have to worry about breaking one. I'll do my very best to keep this one. And on the subject of letters, would you like to write to Harry? I'll take it with me if you do.”

So Frankie showed Lucius Harry's things while Johnny dashed off a short note. Lucius was happy to see that all Harry's things were packed in a trunk about the size of two large suitcases. Frankie sat down on the bed and stroked the top of it gently for a moment.

“All his clothing and art things, his games and some batteries. His MP3 player...everything's in here. You'll really take it to him? He said that ... Vernon would sell his stuff. You ...” Frankie looked up to see the cold, distant expression on Lucius's face. “Sorry. I've just been so worried about him. Can he really write to us? How do we get the letters?”

“I have a contact through which I mail ... muggle communications, I believe you have that address. You'll have the letter the day after Harry sends it. It will be a hand delivery. If it's not properly sealed do NOT open it. Please believe me when I say it's important.”

“What do you mean by properly sealed? I'm sure no one could open a sealed envelope and me not notice.”

So Lucius took the time to explain about parchment and sealing wax and proper seals, finishing, “I'll have to find out which seal Harry prefers, he's entitled to three, no; excuse me, four. Including my own.” Johnny returned to the room with his letter and Lucius turned to take it from him. “Thank you. I better be going, Draco will be wondering what is keeping me.”

Johnny offered to carry the trunk to the door for Lucius but he smiled slightly, refraining from smirking by a millimeter and produced his wand which he waved. The trunk shrank to the sized of a pack of cards, Lucius bent, picked it up, tucked it into his pocket and made his farewells to a slightly dazed looking but much relieved couple.

.

Lucius returned to Malfoy Manor with Harry's things and the note. He emerged from the floo, flicked his fingers to dust off the microscopic bits of soot he'd managed to collect then climbed the stairs to Harry's rooms.

The first words he heard were Draco's, and 'oh, fuck.' did not sound promising. He hurried into the room to find Draco and Harry bent over a checkers board. Draco's sour expression and the tap of a check told Lucius that Harry had made it across the board and was being 'kinged'.

“Having fun, boys?”

Draco glowered. “Yes, except that that is the third king Po ... Harry has gotten. I believe I'll concede and save the remaining rags of my pride.”

Harry just smiled and started stacking the checkers so they would fit into their box. When he finished he handed the box and the board to Draco who put them on the night stand.

“Harry, I have the rest of your things. The ones that were at Frankie and Johnny's place. And a letter from both of them, Johnny wrote it while Frankie got your things for me. I promised them a letter as soon as you felt like it and a visit later.”

Harry sighed, a letter from Frankie and Johnny. “Can I see my letter now? Please?”

Lucius ignored Draco's tiny growl and handed Harry his letter. “If you're not too tired.” He hid his amusement at the way Harry tore into his letter.

Harry read quickly then folded the letter and put it back in its envelope. Draco blinked once, never having seen an envelope like that before. Harry peeked at Lucius from under his fringe.

“Ask, I can tell you're bubbling over with questions. Quite like an over heated cauldron. We wouldn't want you to explode.” Harry snorted, suppressing a laugh, then gave Lucius a faintly horrified look. “You may laugh when I make a joke.”

“Um ... ok. But, what's going on. Why are you being so nice to me. You hate me. And why is Draco trying to be nice to me? And ... and ... Um ... I just don't get it.”

Lucius realized that Harry didn't remember most of the explanations he'd gotten that first night, so he started from the beginning again. Harry listened to the explanation, including the disaster in the town house, then nodded. “Ok, that makes sense. I see. I'm glad that wasn't your idea. That would make things really hard. But ...” Harry rubbed at his forehead fretfully and got back to business. “Where am I going to stay? I think I ought to move my stuff soon. I'm feeling much better and I'd ... well, I'd rather not get used to all this comfort.”

Draco choked on his own saliva, earning him a sharp look from Lucius.

“These are your quarters for as long as you live here, unless you dislike them. I could show you other rooms but these are the rooms that are usually assigned to a second son. Or, if you like the rooms but dislike the colors, we'll redecorate...in Gryffindor colors if you insist.”

Harry blinked at Lucius, his glasses making him look like a small owl. Draco put in, “They're as large as my rooms only on the opposite side of the hall to mine and at the end of the family wing.”

Harry absorbed this information with a blank expression. “Opposite side of the hall? End of the ... from where?”

“My quarters.” Lucius settled on the foot of the bed, making Harry cringe back, it was very subtle but Lucius was nothing if not the master of subtlety. “A hold over from medieval times. The sons were supposed to protect the master of the family by interposing themselves between their father and any attackers. Old Traditionalist families still hold to some very peculiar customs, at least in your eyes, I'm sure.”

Harry just nodded. “I see. Makes sense, I guess.” He rubbed his forehead again.

Lucius was just about to ask him about it when a fierce pang shot through his mark. He clutched at his arm and groaned. Draco yelped then surged to his feet, an expression of fury on his face. Neither Draco nor Lucius noticed that Harry had fallen back on his pillows with a groan.

Draco snapped, “Stay in bed, I'll be back as soon as I can.” and helped Lucius stagger out the door.

Harry pressed his hand against his scar and whimpered, he heard Draco but he was in so much pain that he couldn't make sense of the words.

.

Draco got Lucius to his bed, covered him and called his house-elf to take care of him. The elf popped in, wringing his hands. “What is needed? Tobby is ready to serve.”

Draco just snarled. “Keep him covered, give him a pain potion when he asks and stay with him. I have to go back and explain to ... Harry. Fuck!”

The last bit was caused by Mimsey, who had popped in behind Draco. When he turned the first thing he saw was Mimsey's blood covered hands.

“You must come. Master Harry is bleeding. Please!”

Draco just rushed out to see what was wrong with Harry. He found him on his side in the bed, holding his bleeding forehead with one hand and his stomach with the other. The puddle on the rug beside the bed told it's own tale.

Draco just ordered Mimsey to clean up the mess then tried to roll Harry over so that he could see what was wrong.

“Don't, it won't do any good. Voldemort is up to something. He's torturing someone. I can feel it.”

Draco just snarled, “I know, he's calling father. I'll bring you a pain potion when I get one for father. Lie back on the pillows and relax.”

Draco nodded to Mimsey to keep an eye on Harry and went to get the potions, including one to staunch the bleeding. He was very glad he'd brewed a batch of extra strength potion just a few days ago, he was going to need every drop.

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