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Harry cast a tempus and snarled. He'd slept too late and he was hurrying to get bathed and dressed before he was late to breakfast. They were leaving at nine for Paris and he was afraid that, if he was late, Lucius would cancel the trip. He also missed his exercise regimen, he always felt better after meditation and a good workout.

Mimsey asked Harry which robes he wanted and he said that he didn't care, whatever was available and fit him. She pulled a set of dark, clay colored velvet robes out and handed them to Harry. He took the robes and put them on over his charcoal grey slacks and black turtle neck. They were muggle clothes and comfortable. He didn't think anyone would care because they were covered by the robe.

He grumbled when he realized that he hadn't put on his short boots yet. They buttoned and it was a real nuisance to do them up. Mimsey just motioned him to a chair, brandishing the button hook cheerfully.

“You is not to fuss. Mimsey is doing up your boots. Sit.” Mimsey motioned to him again.

Harry sat and stuck out one foot. Mimsey started buttoning up the boot but Harry couldn't sit still, she was tickling him. He squirmed a bit with each button until Mimsey swatted him on the calf. “Sit still, Mimsey can not button boots on a galloping goose, young Sir.”

Harry laughed when she caught herself, squeaked and stared at him in fear. “Don't worry. You're nearly as opinionated as Dobby. Finish buttoning my boots. I'm going to be late.”

Mimsey finished buttoning the final boot and shooed him on his way. He hurried down the stairs and into the breakfast room.

Lucius looked up from his paper and frowned at Harry's robes. “Oh for Merlin's sake, those robes were ghastly when Narcissa bought them for me. They look even worse on you. That color doesn't suit either one of us. Draco, do something, please. Before my eyes start to bleed.”

Draco gave Harry a smug look and brandished his wand. “There. Much better.” Harry's robes were now black. “Sorry I can't turn them some other color but it's always easier to go darker than lighter and that particular color is ... difficult to deal with. Eggs?” He pushed a plate of eggs over to Harry.

Harry filled his plate with eggs, toast and bacon. He refused cheese sauce, grilled tomatoes and kippers. He drank the potions Draco handed him without protest but shuddered at the taste. “Bleh! Those are foul. Draco, how's your progress on fixing the taste?”

“Not good. It seems that all my ideas have been tried before. Anything that alters the taste reacts with one ingredient or another.”

Harry sipped at his tea. “Why?”

They wound up listening to a rant about flavoring extracts actually being ingredients, which, Draco complained, no one seemed to understand, except a few very intelligent brewers, himself included. Harry just listened with one ear, glancing at Lucius who was making intelligent sounds from time to time while still reading his paper.

Lucius folded his paper just as Harry finished the last of his toast. “Very well, Draco, that's enough now. We're leaving in five minutes. Harry, do you know how to apparate?” Harry shook his head. “No? That's a shame. I'll begin teaching you on this trip. I'll side-along you, but you'll be providing the coordinates.”

Harry nodded his understanding. He'd studied the theory of apparition but hadn't had any practical experience. His panicked apparitions during his run away didn't count in his opinion, he felt that he was particularly lucky not to have splinched himself.

“Now. Draco, you go first. We'll make contact at the Dover Stop then on to Paris.”

Draco disappeared with a pop of inrushing air.

Lucius took Harry in his arms and gave him the coordinates, Harry concentrated on them, carefully keeping all other thoughts out of his mind. Lucius said, “Apparate.” and they followed Draco.

Harry blinked when they popped into the Dover point. “Were are we? You said Dover.”

“This is just an exchange point. Come off the arrival target.” Lucius led Harry off the circle on the slate floor. “It's a place where people who are going a long way can stop and recover before going on. It keeps people from splinching themselves trying to go farther than their powers can take them in one jump. We'll go to the departure point and continue on to Paris.” He stopped to look around. “Ah! There's Draco.”

Draco was waiting for them at the side of the circle drawn on the floor about ten feet away from the arrival target. He smiled a bit when Lucius approached him

“I'm glad to see that Harry managed well. No missing toes or other parts?”

Lucius nodded. “Indeed, he did quite well. I'm seriously considering letting him try the second leg by himself.”

“Um, I don't have a license, how am I going to stay out of trouble?” Harry wanted to try by himself but he didn't want to cause any trouble or attract attention to himself.

“I'm your guardian and you can apparat with my permission. Also, the French have more lenient rules about young people and magic. So ... do you want to try?”

Harry grinned, then paused to cough. “Yes, please. Draco? I'm about out of cough medicine, do you have any more?”

Draco gave Harry a scornful look. “Of course I do. Here.” Draco fished inside his robe for a moment then handed Harry a small vial.

Harry murmured his thanks and took a sip. He held out the left side of his robe to look for a pocket to tuck it into. That was when he realized that both fronts of the robes were covered with pockets of all sizes. “Nice. Now I know how you all do it. Why don't my school robes have this many pockets?”

Draco smirked. “Because school robes are cheaply made. I've complained for years that it's not fair that I have to have my robes made at Madam Malkins. It's ridiculous.”

Harry just made a sort of Hum-ing sound.

Lucius took Harry's arm and gave Draco a gentle push. “The departure point is clear now. Come along.” They stood in the middle of the circle and Lucius announced the coordinates in a clear voice.

Harry concentrated and, seconds later, stumbled into the foyer of a large building.

“Clear the point, s'il vous plait.” Harry got out of the way, noticing that Lucius was already waiting on him but Draco wasn't there.

A soft pop and Draco walked up behind him. “I'm ready for some serious shopping.”

Lucius bowed, smirking and lead the way into the shop.

Draco went straight to a rack of clothing and started flicking through the hangers. Harry went to stand beside him.

“What about this one? I like the cut.” Harry pulled a robe from the rack and held it out.

“Has possibilities. It's a bit old for someone your age.” Draco frowned at the robe for a moment. “But ... I do like the cut, it'll look good on you. You've got some shoulders on you now.”

“Thank you. And what about this one. I like the outer part but the button down the whole front thing is ... confining.”

Draco eyed the robe Harry held now. It was double layered, the inside was stove pipe cut, the same circumference from shoulders to feet, and looked like an old fashioned hobble skirt. The outside, however, was bell backed and open in the front with three lapels, each one wider than the one on top of it.

“Interesting, what would you have the under robe look like.” Draco fingered the top lapel with a frown.

“V-neck, button starting about here.” Harry pointed to about where the V of a v-neck sweater would fall. “Three or four buttons to just about here.” Harry pointed to a spot about three inches under his belt. “Then open to the floor. No cut back.”

Draco looked interested. “I wouldn't have thought you'd know or care much about clothing, the way you usually dress.”

“I learned from Frankie and Johnny, not to mention the rest of the guys. And I am interested in what I wear. I just never had clothing before Hogwarts and I wouldn't invest in stuff that Uncle Vernon would just sell the second he got a chance.”

Draco glanced at Lucius and shuddered, the look on his father's face wasn't pleasant. He really looked like he wanted to hex someone. Lucius noticed Draco's look and smoothed his expression. It wouldn't do to be seen looking like that.

Lucius turned when the owner himself came to see what was wanted. He gushed over Lucius,  called Draco 'Le Enfant' and turned his back on Harry. Harry blinked. Lucius froze.

“Excuse me. Harry, come along.” Lucius gave the man a cold shoulder and turned to leave.

Draco sneered and pivoted on his heel, following Lucius out the door. Harry just glared at the man and followed after.

“Well! The nerve. Where will we go now, Father?”

“Madam Amorçage. She's your mother's new favorite. Harry?” Lucius turned to look for Harry. He'd been so angry that he'd forgotten to make sure Harry was following. “Ah! There you are. Come along. Ghastly little frog. We'll be going elsewhere. Be thinking about what you want as we go.”

Draco bit his lip. This could be a very bad day if Lucius wasn't appeased. When he spoke in short, choppy sentences like that it was a sure thing that he was on edge.

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. We can just go back to the manor. I can wear whatever Mimsey can find. The seamstress can alter it for me.”

Lucius stiffened and Harry flinched, just a bit but both Lucius and Draco noticed. “You will not wear cast-off's. Mine or anyone else's. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I'm sorry.”

“And, please do stop apologizing. When one is needed, I'll make sure you know it. Come now.”

Harry glanced and Draco who pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. Harry sighed and followed.

It didn't take them long to reach the small shop of Madam Amorçage. Harry decided he liked the shop much better than the ostentatious place they'd left. Granted that the other place was in the most popular Wizarding mall in France, but Harry had felt overwhelmed by everything and only recovered himself by entering into the conversation with Draco.

Lucius opened the door and the little bell over it tinkled cheerily. A woman flicked the curtain  in the door from the back aside and stalked over to Lucius. She vaguely resembled Madam Maxime.

“May I help you? Mr. Malfoy, I believe it is. Óui?”

“Yes, Lucius Malfoy. I've come to purchase clothing for my sons.” Harry jumped at this.

“Ah, I see. Sit here, it is most comfortable.” She motioned to a couch across one corner of the room. “I shall send out the models.”

Lucius sat, motioning Harry to sit beside him on one side and Draco on the other. They settled where they were told to and the models started out.

Harry soon realized that this method of shopping was much more pleasant than shuffling through examples on a rack. He could see exactly how the robes hung and how the sleeves were set. He silently made note of which robes he liked and which he didn't. He also had a few ideas of his own.

“Harry. You have that thinking look that Draco got just before he did something outrageous. What's on your mind?” Lucius accepted the cup of coffee the hovering assistant handed him.

Harry took his cup then answered, “I'm not sure if this is ok or not but you said to ask if I wanted something. I have some ideas that I'd like to at least have Madam look at. Is that ok?”

“Of course. Madam, if you would?”

The lady bowed slightly and fetched a sketch book. “If you could describe what you have in mind, I'll try to draw it.”

Harry gazed at the sketch book with longing. Madam noticed and offered it to him.

“If you like, you could try to sketch them yourself. I can help you if you like.”

“Thank you. I think I can manage.” Harry took the sketch book and stroked the paper lovingly

It was a very fine book with a hard spine and smooth paper. He took the charcoal stick and started to sketch. When he was done, he had a good sketch of the robe he'd described to Draco as well as two other designs, one labeled 'school robe'.

Draco nodded, looking over Harry's shoulder. “That's very nice. You'll never get away with it though. Dumbledore is a real stickler about robes.”

Harry suddenly got a very stubborn look on his face, the one Johnny called his mule look. “I really don't care. I'm not wearing those robes, they're too tight in all the wrong places and never hang right, no matter how hard Madam Malkin tries. And I hate that sleazy fabric, it wears out in one year.”

Lucius got a good look at Harry's face and shuddered slightly. He had a very bad feeling about that look, he was sure that it presaged nothing but trouble.

Madam  Amorçage looked at the sketches and nodded her approval. “These are very nice. Excellent work. I can see exactly what you want. And fabrics. You need to choose fabrics.” She turned a page. “Oh, my, you even sketched the pockets. That's very clever.”

Harry smiled at her. “I'm tired of carrying a book bag and struggling to find things. I have a pocket there for books and one for parchment, another for ink and quill and so on. I know Mr. Malfoy can teach me appropriate shrinking charms.”

Madam gave Harry a strange look. “I see. But, you call your Papa, Mister?” She started to say something more but Lucius caught her eye and shook his head. “Well, never mind. You English are a bit strange to we French. Fabrics, yes?”

Draco had written down the styles he liked and done the same for Harry. He handed the list to Madam and remarked, “I'm really sorry that Harry liked that style, I like it too. But ...”

Harry looked over Lucius's lap to see what style Draco was talking about. He realized that the robes would look very well on both of them and said so, ending, “I don't see any reason we shouldn't both have that style, if you like it. All we have to do is pick different colors.”

Draco thought about it. It was uncommon, in fact, down right unheard of, for people to knowingly wear similar robes. “I think that would be fun. Imagine Pansy's face when she sees. You should wear greens, blues, and purple ... black, of course, but not earth tones. They make you look yellow. And no crimson and mustard. I don't care if they are your house colors, they don't suit you. Come look at the swatch book with me.”

Draco dragged Harry over to a huge lectern and flipped open the book on top of it.

Harry had never seen such a thing. It was a giant book full of squares of fabrics.

 “What is this? Why ...”

Draco flipped a page and shook his head. “It's a sample book. It keeps people from fingering the end of a bolt until it's dirty. See?” He pointed to a spot on the page he was looking at. It had a greasy spot on one corner. “Do you like this fabric? I think it would be very good for our school robes. And it comes in a very nice black, not that rusty one Madam Malkin always uses.”

Harry eyed the fabric for a moment then reached out to finger it for a moment. “Yeah, I do. It's sturdy but light enough to hang well. And I want a velvet cloak. I've always wanted one.”

Draco laughed softly. “I've had one forever. Mother makes sure to get me a new one every time I get too tall for mine. I'm not due for another until next year. I haven't grown enough yet.”

Harry watched as Draco flipped through the book. It didn't take him long to realize that Draco had the same fashion sense that Frankie did, he vowed to allow Draco to pick all his fabrics and color schemes. He told Draco this only adding that he reserved the right to veto any choice. Draco's eyes lit up with delight and Harry announced that Draco could drool over fabric but he wanted his coffee.

He settled on the couch next to Lucius and picked up his coffee cup again. He sipped for a moment then sighed.

“That's such a big sigh. Are you feeling unwell? Would you like to go back home?” Lucius gave Harry a concerned look.

Harry rewarded this with a brilliant smile. “No. I was just thinking.” He stopped to cough.

“Take a sip of that cough medicine.” Lucius listened as Harry continued to cough, it was wet and rattly sounding. He relaxed slightly. Mw. Thomas had told him that as Harry's pneumonia broke up, he would cough. As long as it was productive, it was fine.

Harry did as he was told and returned to the subject at hand. “I'm really fine. But, I have to say, I'm really glad Draco is picking fabrics. That's the most boring thing in the world. But, he passed over a real chance to ... play a rather nasty prank on me. I know what colors look good on me, Frankie made sure of that. Draco is picking the best colors for my complexion without a second thought. It's really nice of him. Um ... can I ask you a question?”

Lucius smiled at Harry. “You just did but I'll allow you another.”

Harry grinned back. “Thank you. What should I call you. I can't keep calling you Mr. Malfoy, people will talk.”

“You can call me Lucius, if you like.” He didn't look like he really liked that idea and neither did Harry.

“No, that's going to cause just as much comment.” He looked at his hands, tightly clasped in his lap. “Can I call you Papa?” He pronounced it in the French fashion.

“Yes, you may. I would be very pleased by that.” Lucius refrained from cheering by main force of will. He was a Malfoy after all.

“Thank you .... Papa.”

Lucius was surprised by how much that simple word affected him.

Draco, coming to consult Harry about his choice of colors, silently applauded Lucius on his cunning. He also checked out Harry's expression. Harry looked pleased, shocked and a bit bemused.

“Well, here we are. I've chosen these colors for me and these for you. We'll have to be careful as two of the colors are the same. It wouldn't do to have, not only robes the same style, but the same color as well. So ...” Draco waited as Harry flipped through the samples the assistant had pulled for his approval.

Harry examined the colors that the assistant had pinned to the sketches for Draco. “I like this. Papa, do you like this green? The velvet in dark forest and the lining in this deep emerald will make a beautiful cloak. Don't you think so?”

Lucius looked at the colors and had to admit that Draco had chosen very well.

They spent the next two hours discussing the various styles and what colors to use with what style. Lucius finally called a halt to it, he'd been listening to Harry's stomach growl for five minutes.

“Enough. You two will talk the lady's ears off. I'm sure she has copious notes by now. Draco, we have to go feed that puppy Harry has in his pocket.”

Draco snickered softly. Harry gave them both a blank look, then flushed in embarrassment as his stomach growled rather loudly.

“Oh! Excuse me. Is it lunch time?”

“Yes, it definitely is lunch time.” Lucius turned to Draco. “Where should we take him?”

“Honoreé's. It's nice, quiet and not too ostentatious. Harry will be comfortable there.”

“Excellent choice. And, they specialize in country fare.”

Harry listened to this with interest, both Lucius and Draco seemed determined that he like lunch.

Lucius led the way to the door, bowing to Madam Amorçage on his way out. The lady just nodded absently causing Draco to snort softly, the woman had her nose buried in her papers already. A small seamstress scurried to open the door for them. Harry gave her a small smile then hurried to catch up with his foster father and brother.

“What are the coordinates of the restaurant?”

“We won't be apparating, it's only three blocks. We'll walk.” Lucius set off at a pace that made both Harry and Draco lengthen their strides to match him. None of them realized what they looked like with Lucius in the lead and on either side of him one dark and one light young man, following close behind.

“Here we are.” Draco went in first then Lucius with Harry behind.

The entry way was paneled with dark wood and contained a few chairs and a couch. Lucius noted that they were full as he went to the lectern to speak to the hostess. She smiled up at him and checked the book.

“I can have you seated at once, Monsieur de Malfoy. Party of three?” At Lucius's nod she made a mark in the book and waited a moment.

Harry leaned over a bit to see what she was doing. The hostess smiled at him and pointed to a page in the book. “You 'av never seen such a thing?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it's sort of like something I have seen but not really.” His vague references to the Marauder's Map went over the heads of both his companions. “How does it work?”

“I place ze number of seats required 'ere.” She pointed to one page. “And ze clean ones are 'ere.” She pointed to the opposite page which contained a line drawing of the restaurant. It showed three seats with a glowing gold outline around them. “Are these acceptable?”

Lucius noted that the seats were at the same table, in an alcove off the main room where they could see the whole room without being seen from the door. “Very.”

Harry cast a lingering look at the book, wondering what spells were used to create it.

“Harry?”

“Coming, sir.”

They were seated and Harry gazed at the menu in dismay, it was in French. “I can't read this. I'm sorry to be so much trouble, but would you mind ordering for me?”

Lucius just said, “Draco, oblige me.”

Draco nodded and eyed the menu for a moment. “Harry, I don't think we need to take the time to translate every entry. I'll just translate the one's I'm sure you'll like. Do you like shrimp? I know you like chicken.”

Harry looked over Draco's shoulder, leaning to one side to do so. Lucius said softly, “Sit up, Harry. Only commoners do that.”

“Oh, sorry. I was going to have Draco point to what he was translating, thought I might learn something.”

“I see. I'll have you tutored in French, if you like. Sit back and read from your own menu. Draco will read in French first and then English.”

“Yes, sir, ... Papa. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“We are Malfoys, we are never embarrassed. It's just not good form. Continue.”

So Draco translated the menu items that he thought Harry would like. Harry finally decided on Shrimp Scampi on fettucini, a small salad with poppy-seed dressing and garlic bread. Draco found that he enjoyed translating for Harry. He asked intelligent questions and caught on quickly. 

“Mr. Malfoy? Um ... Papa?”

“Yes, Harry. What is it?” Lucius looked up from his contemplation of the menu to look at Harry.

“Why did that lady call you de Malfoy?”

“Because that is the French form of our name. From the area our family originated in. The original form of the name is Mal de Forage. Or bad grazing.” Lucius stopped to see if Harry understood what he was being told and was delighted to see Harry biting his lip in concentration. “Do you remember everything you hear?”

“Mostly. I hate taking class with a chatter box. I can't write with a quill fast enough to keep good notes, so I just listen and try to remember then I write it all down in the evening. Hermione lets me copy her notes to supplement what I've got written down. I hate it that there's no time between classes to get any notes down. I forget stuff, not much but enough to be annoying.”

Draco gapped at Harry for a moment. “What would you write with, if not a quill?”

“A fountain pen, a pencil, even a steel dip nib would be better than a damn feather.”

Lucius wondered what Harry was talking about but forgot that in favor of something a bit more important, to him. “Language, Harry.”

Harry ducked his head and made a face at the tablecloth. “Sorry.”

Lucius just said, “Hush.” and went back to deciding what to have.

It took exactly fifteen minutes from the time the waiter handed them menus to the second he came back for their order. Lucius ordered Smoked Salmon and Dill Crepes, a small side of asparagus and rolls. Draco ordered Terrine of Salmon and Spinach with green salad and rolls. No one ordered wine, but they all ordered coffee.

The waiter nodded and left. Harry noticed that he didn't write anything down and returned with coffee immediately.

They sat and talked about nothing much until the food came. Lucius and Draco's food was set in front of them almost reverently, Harry's plate was more or less dropped from about an inch above the table. Lucius looked up and raised his eyebrow. Harry took one look at Draco's shocked face and decided.

“Do you like your job?” Harry looked up at the waiter with a glint in his eye.

“Excuse me?”

“It's a very simple question. Do you like your job?”

The waiter looked at Lucius who glowered back in a way that made the man cringe.

“Yes, very much.” The waiter somehow found that the look in the young man's eye was more disturbing than he'd though such a young person could produce.

“Then I'd suggest that you try that again.”

The waiter picked up the plate and gently put it back down again. He got away from the table as quickly as he could.

“Snob.” Harry eyed his scampi for a moment then started to eat.

Draco blinked once. “Him? He's not a snob, he's just stupid. I wonder who he's trying to impress.”

Harry shook his head, chewing the shrimp he'd just put into his mouth. He swallowed to say, “He's not trying to impress anyone. And he knows second hand robes when he sees them. Poor relatives don't get much respect. This shrimp is delicious, Draco. Thank you for helping me select it.”

“You're welcome. And now you see why Father was so upset when you told him that hand-me-downs were good enough for you. Prat.”

Harry just snorted. “Pillock.”

Lucius looked from Draco to Harry then realized that it was some sort of new teen bonding ritual and shook his head. “That's enough. I'd like to enjoy my meal without all this foolishness.”

Both Harry and Draco said, “Yes, sir.” at the same time then their eyes met and they started laughing, keeping it down so as not to disturb the other dinners.

.

They returned to Malfoy Manor after lunch and a short walk up and down La Rue des Magiciens. Harry window shopped without shame, Draco ignored most of the shops and Lucius patiently put up with Harry. Draco finally announced that he was tired so could they please go home.

Harry just came back at once. He still wasn't entirely sure about the Malfoys, either one of them, and didn't want to start anything. At least until he was stronger.

Lucius sent them to their rooms, telling them both to study. Harry started to object that he didn't have the summer assignments but Draco cut him off by telling him to drop by his rooms first to get them.

Draco led the way to their opposing rooms for which Harry was grateful. He still got a bit lost from time to time and hated to bother the house-elves who had to come and show him the way. He vowed to get one to show him all around the house so he could get his bearings, as soon as he felt well.

“Here we are. Out of your fog?” Harry gave Draco a shamefaced look, well aware that Draco had been making polite conversation as they walked, conversation he'd more or less ignored. “Come in and I'll make copies of all my notes for you.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate that. Nice rooms.”

“Thank you. I'm glad you like them. Do you like your rooms? Is there anything you'd like to change?”

Harry smiled at Draco, taking his questions at face value, for now. “I really like them. I don't want to change anything. I like the colors.” Draco quickly found his notes and the assignment sheets. He made copies and handed them to Harry, saying, “Here. I don't know what classes you're signed up for for next term but this is everything.”

Harry took the pages and flipped through them. “I'm seriously reconsidering my class schedule. I think I'm taking some very light weight subjects. I'm dropping Divination. Total waste of time. I'm going to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.”

“That means you can't take Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures either.”

Harry just shrugged and announced, “And that breaks my heart. Not. I really don't see the need for either of those classes either. Potions, well, I'll probably get kicked out but ... I really need to do well in that class and I'm not. Do you think that ... um ... do you mind me calling Lucius Papa?”

Draco shook his head, “Kind of you to ask. No, I really don't. You're part of the family now.” He held up one hand. “I know I keep saying that. I'll keep saying it until you believe it. He liked it that you asked and I think it's a very good idea. Just do not call me bro'.” He shuddered dramatically.

Harry shuddered too. “Never thought of it. I'm not into that sort of slang. Thanks for the notes and assignments.”

Harry turned to go but Draco stopped him. “Just a moment.” Harry looked back over his shoulder. “If you want to take different classes, talk to Father about it. He'll be approving your schedule, so he'll make sure you get what you really want. Instead of what Dumbledore thinks you ought to have.”

“Thanks for the advice. I'll do that.”

.

Harry woke the next morning and sighed. He'd slacked off enough. He stretched, got out of bed and summoned Mimsey with a soft, “Service, please.”

“Yes, Master. What can Mimsey do?”

“I need a place to run. Somewhere I won't have to worry about running over someone.”

“Yes, this is easy. How far does master want to run?”

Harry thought. “Um ... about a mile. It would be nice if it was easy to add more distance later, instead of repeating the same circuit. Can you do that?”

Mimsey proved up to the task. “It is done. I was thinking as Master Harry was saying he liked to run that it would be good to have running path setup. Master follows the red flags for one mile, the yellow ones for two miles and the green flags for five. If more is needed we will flag that as master asks. Is this good?”

Harry scooped the elf up and twirled her around hugging her. “Yes! Mimsey you are brilliant. Excellent. Where's my jogging suit? I'm ready to go and I need to go now or I won't have time for yoga and a shower before I have to be down to breakfast.”

Mimsey squeaked at Harry's exuberance and demanded to be put down, admonishing, “Put Mimsey down, how is Mimsey to get suit if Master Harry is spinning her around.”

Harry laughed and put her on her feet again. “There. Better?”

Mimsey just humphed and got him his suit.

Harry scrambled into it and made it down the stairs and out the side door to the gardens in record time. He saw the flags at once and followed them at an easy trot. He knew that he was probably not going to make it all the way through even a half mile but he was determined to make it as far as he could. If he took it easy he was sure he'd make it most of the way. The only thing that concerned him was his still slightly congested lungs.

As he ran, Harry did an internal check just as Liu-sifu had him do every day. He reluctantly acknowledged that he'd been very remiss during his 'gutter boy' days in not doing this. He realized that he could help clear his lungs with a daily regimen of yoga poses intended to strengthen his lungs. And head stand wouldn't hurt either.

Harry finished his jog at exactly a mile. He felt good, strong and well. He was a bit more short of breath than he liked but had done much better than he expected. He decided to go to his dojo and do tai chi then a kata and cool down with yoga.

He started his tai chi carefully, as he was uncertain how much he could do. He managed to get through the first, easy, set and the second one; the third one, he only managed about half of the total 60 forms. He sighed and sat down to rest for a moment. He flinched a bit when Mimsey popped in with a pitcher of water and a goblet. He laughed and drank the water.

He got up and stretched carefully, checking for any catch or weakness in his muscles. There were none, he felt incredibly good for as sick as he'd been just a few days ago.

He stood for a moment thinking about which kata to do, then decided to do the last one he had learned, the one he called 'cat scratch'. He figured he'd better find out how much of it he could do. He actually managed to get all the way through it but he was feeling very tired by the time he finished and he wasn't satisfied with some of the forms. He hadn't done as well as he'd like. There was time to correct his errors though.

The yoga he did helped stretch out his hot muscles and cool him off. He did a slow series and held the poses until he started to shake a bit. When he was done, he settled into Corpse Pose to relax and meditate.

He realized almost immediately that this was not a good idea. The yoga mat that he was lying on was poor protection from the cold wooden floor. The floor was only a scant three inches above the slate floor of the room and that was even colder than the wood. Harry started to shiver slightly.

.

Lucius looked up from his paper with a slight scowl. “Draco, where is Harry?”

Draco sighed, he was wondering the same thing. “I don't know. He's never late to a meal. He knows to be punctual, I told him.”

Lucius took his watch out of his pocket and opened it. It had two covers, one on each side. One opened to an ornate clock face and the other to a family clock, much like the Weasley's. The time piece didn't actually work, the affectation only serving to camouflage the true use.

“Now why would that boy be in the wine cellar? I better see what he's up to. I wouldn't think ... Draco, call his elf and see what you can find out from her.”

Draco just called Mimsey by name and growled slightly as Lucius swept out the door leaving him to deal with the elf.

Lucius glanced at the watch in his hand then tucked it back in his pocket as he made it down the stairs in no time. He had an idea of which room Harry was in, the tasting room, but he was wrong so he spent a bit of time opening doors.

Mimsey popped in, making him start. “Master Harry sir, is in here.” She opened a door and stepped back.

Lucius was shocked to see Harry laying on the floor flat on his back and shivering. He pulled his outer robe off and hurried to Harry.

“Harry, what happened? Where are you hurt?” Lucius pulled Harry into his arms and wrapped the robe around him.

“Uh! ... shit!.” Harry struggled for a second then relaxed when he realized who was holding him. “Sorry. Did you call me? If you did, I didn't hear you. I was meditating.” Harry sighed softly. “Mmmmm, warm. I'm too cold.”

“Devil take you, boy, you ... what are you doing lying on a cold floor like that?”

“I told you, meditating. I did my exercises and was relaxing. Only, it was too cold and I couldn't stop shivering. Too stubborn for my own good, I guess.”

Lucius finally got his mind to stop gibbering and listen. “You do yoga? I've heard of it but I've never seen any. Could you demonstrate it?”

Harry wriggled a bit. “Yeah, I'm still warm enough.”

Lucius refrained from asking about being warm as he was well aware that it was unwise to indulge in athletics with cold, stiff muscles.

Harry stepped away from Lucius and pulled off the robe. He handed it back to his foster father and moved to the middle of the floor. He showed Lucius what he could do, carefully choosing poses that wouldn't strain his muscles.

“There. How was that?”

Lucius gazed at Harry for a moment. “I've never seen anyone that flexible before.”

“Thank you. I really missed that. I need to do a workout every day. I hope you don't mind that I've taken over this room. If it's not ok. Could I have a different one?”

Lucius shook his head gently. “I don't mind. If you like this room, keep it. Perhaps a warming charm on the floor wouldn't go amiss?”

Harry grinned. “I tried. Didn't work out that well. Will you do one for me?”

“I'd be delighted.” Lucius took out his wand and flicked it. “There. Come up to breakfast.”

“I'm all sweaty.”

“I think we can forgive that. Just this once.” Lucius called for an elf to bring them both clean robes.

.

Draco looked up from his tea with a smile. “Mimsey told me Harry was ... doing a funny dance? I have no idea. I told Cook to keep the food warm until you got here. I hope that was appropriate?”

“Yes, very good.” Lucius settled in his chair again.

Harry followed Lucius into the room and took his place without comment. He smiled at Draco as he was handed his potions.

He eyed the platters of food and decided that he was hungry enough to try one of the sauces that were always provided. He took eggs, bacon, ham, and toast; covering the eggs with the cheese sauce. He also had tea, orange juice and water.

Harry listened to Draco and Lucius talk as he ate. He had to smile a bit when he realized that Lucius was explaining to Draco how he was going to handle a business deal. He remembered his Uncle Vernon trying to explain a deal he was involved in to Dudley who'd yawned all the way through it. Harry had actually been interested in it but Vernon had run him out of the kitchen with a blow to the head and a curse.

So he listened with interest and learned as much as he could.

“Now to Harry.” Lucius turned in his seat so he could look directly at Harry. “What ... I believe you call them arts, do you practice? I need to know so that I can get you teachers. And I'm going to have you tutored in the classes you want to take next year. You're going to need it. And I insist on you applying yourself.”

Harry thought about that for a moment. “Oh, ok. Um ... Tai chi, mixed martial arts, and yoga. And dance.”

Draco snorted a laugh into his tea cup. “Dance? You can't dance!”

Harry growled, tossed a toast corner at Draco and announced, “Can to, prat.”

Draco pitched the toast back at Harry and started to say something when Lucius interrupted their horse play sharply.

“Stop that at once! What are you thinking? Appalling behavior.”

Draco froze, hung his head and waited. Lucius glanced at Harry and clenched his teeth. He wasn't about to put up with that sort of behavior at his table. In normal circumstances he'd have blistered both of them and that would have been that. But, due to Draco's condition and Harry's past, that was not an option he was willing to consider.

Harry blushed and cringed slightly. “I'm sorry. Please ...”

Lucius held up a hand. “No. Apology accepted but it's not going to get you out of a punishment. You will ... go wash dishes as the house-elves do. Splidy, come here.”

The elf popped in and Lucius gave his instructions. 'Splidy, you are to take the two young gentlemen to the kitchen and set them to washing dishes, just as you do. No magic. Do you understand?”

The elf looked puzzled for a moment then brightened. “You is punishing the young one's by having them wash dishes just as elveses do it. I is to take them to the kitchen and show them what to do, yes?”

“Yes. Go, now, both of you. I'm ashamed of you. Outrageous.” Lucius hid his upset by picking up his paper and starting to read.

Draco just folded his napkin and stood up. “Come on, Harry, we better go.”

Harry felt his stomach clench, nausea flooding through him. “I'm really sorry ... Papa. I didn't mean to make trouble.” He stood and followed Draco out the door.

Lucius sighed and tossed his paper aside. He had always hated punishing Draco and found his dislike extending to Harry as well.

They made it to the kitchen before Harry was ill then he vomited violently. Draco flinched and, to his further shame, dithered. Harry just flicked his wand to banish the mess then turned to the elf and asked what they were supposed to do.

“You is washing the breakfast dishes. There is not many. There.” Splidy pointed to the sink and walked away.

The sink was full of steaming hot water covered by a layer of suds. On the side of the sink was a stack of plates, platters, cups and saucers, as well as some pots and a frying pan.

Draco eyed the setup with dismay. “Harry, I have no idea how to go about washing a dish. What do we do now?”

Harry just sighed. “I know how to wash dishes. Get one of the elves to show you how to dry them. I'll wash and rinse, you dry, and we'll let the elves put them away so that they get put up where they belong. Let's get started and get it over with.”

Draco corralled one of the elves to show him how to dry, never noticing Harry's flinch when he put the stack of place settings in the sink. The water was scalding hot, and the rinse water in the other sink wasn't much better.

Harry started washing the dishes, careful not to chip the fine porcelain. He hurried as much as he could without missing any food smears. He washed the plates and other flat pieces, putting them in the drain rack for Draco to dry. Draco dried as best he could, taking care not to drop anything. The elf put the dishes away and provided Draco with dry towels as needed.

Harry started on the cups and flatware, hissing as his hands started to really burn. He knew he was working on a serious scald already. He kept washing, there wasn't any other option, trying to slack on a punishment only made it worse.

“Draco, I'm almost done with the platters, you need to clear me a space on the rack for this one though.”

Draco turned just in time to catch the platter before it hit the floor. “Damn, Harry, what's the matter with you? This is ... “ Draco's yelp made Harry flinch. “What the hell have you done to your hands? They're so red.”

Harry held his hands away from his body and gritted his teeth, now that Draco had called his attention to them, they really hurt. “The water's really hot. It's ... hot.”

Draco barked, “Get Father!” at the nearest elf and turned on the cold water. The elf popped out while Draco was holding Harry's hands under the stream of water. Draco barked orders to the nearby elves, who flew around pulling the plug on the sink and fetching burn cream.

“What the hell is going on here? Draco, what are you doing?”

Draco pointed to the still full washing sink. “Is the water supposed to be that hot?”

Lucius turned to the senior house-elf and raised an eyebrow. Harry noticed that the creature cringed but cast both him and Draco sullen looks. “Yes, master. Master said to wash dishes like a house-elf. Elveses uses very hot water to wash up. They is not doing it right either. They is making an elf put up the dishes.”

Lucius tried the water for himself and found it still scalding hot. “Damn it! That water is much too hot for a wizard. What are you ... Harry!”

Harry couldn't help swaying on his feet a bit, the pain was starting to make him light headed.

“I'm sorry, sir, I don't think I can finish. I'll ... do it better next time. Only ...”

Lucius got a really good look at Harry's hands and totally lost his temper, which meant that he got very quiet. “Harry, I never meant for you to hurt yourself. I only meant for you to learn that food is not a toy, or a ball. Draco, how could you let him hurt himself like this?”

“Father, I'm really sorry. Harry, I'm sorry. I never dried a dish in my life before and I was trying not to make more of a mess or drop something so I didn't notice until just now. I didn't realize that the water was that hot. If I'd realized, I'd have stopped him at once. Harry, sit down before you fall down.”

Harry just sat, a house-elf made sure that there was a stool under him.

“Sir, I'm ok, don't punish Draco. If anyone deserves a punishment, I do. I should have ... but I'd rather you beat me, really I would. I hate chores more than anything. And Draco shouldn't be punished for something I started. Please, sir, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Really I won't.”

Lucius sighed softly, “Harry, I'm not mad at you. I'm furious with myself. I never meant for you to be hurt by this. Come, here's the burn cream, I'll put it on and we'll get you to your room to rest.” He turned to the head house-elf his expression promising reprisals. “You'll wash dishes yourself for one month. Be sure to use the proper temperature of water. I'll not tolerate you taking your vexation out on Harry. Understand?”

The elf wrung it's hands for a moment, peeked at Harry then nodded. “Yes, master.”

Harry whimpered when Lucius dabbed the cream on his hands. They were very badly scalded. Lucius wondered how the boy could have stood the pain then realized that this was another example of the Dursley's abuse conditioning him.

“Idiot boy.” Harry blinked at the affection in the tone. “Come along, let's get you to your room. I'd give you a pain potion now, but it'll probably send you to sleep and I'd rather not try to carry you that far. A Feather Light charm would work but it'll make you dizzier. Up you go.”

Lucius helped Harry to his feet and started out the door. He never noticed the glare Draco sent in the direction of the head house-elf.

When Lucius got Harry back to his rooms he called for Mimsey, who popped in with a pain potion and burn lotion.

She fussed around, giving Lucius the potion for Harry then putting the pot of burn lotion on the bedside table.

“Mimsey is bringing lotion instead of cream. This way Master Lucius can just pour it on without touching tender skin. Is this good? Mimsey is fixing the nasty head elf. She will ...”

Draco bopped Mimsey on the head, snapping. “Hush, you. Not now.”

Harry peeked at Mimsey from under his fringe. He hoped that Lucius didn't realize what Mimsey had just said.

Lucius kept his opinion of Mimsey's intent to himself, let the elves sort this on their own. He was much more worried about Harry.

Harry accepted the potion from Lucius, opening his mouth to swallow it. Draco accepted the small vial, tucking it into a pocket without comment. He also held the basin under Harry's hands as Lucius poured the lotion over them. Harry just held still and let them fuss, feeling rather strange about it all.

“And I was just getting well again, too.”

.


Authors notes: From now on, I'm not going to write every time Harry has his potions. Only if they're important to the plot in some way. He takes potions every morning at breakfast and every night at bed time. Draco brews the nutrient potion and a mild sleeping draught, Snape brews all the other potions.
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