Could You Love Me?

Author: TheSiner
Title: Could you love me?
Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama and some attempted humour :)
Pairings: Harry/Lucius; Draco/?; Severus/?(mentioned)
Word Count: ~ 150,000
Summary: HP/LM, slash, mpreg. Lucius forces Harry to marry him. Things get bad and then they get better. This is a story about two different people from different worlds trying to make it work. Complete.
Rating: For some sex, but there’s not that much of it.
Disclaimer: These characters are not my own and belong to J.K. Rowling and affiliates. I am not making any money.
Warnings: slash, mpreg - a boy having a baby, OOC (kind of), non-canon, not betaedited, dubious consent, A/U – it is the same old Wizarding world though. And there is angst and emotional suffering.
Setting:– after Harry’s fifth year. Lucius doesn’t get caught at the Ministry.


ELEVENTH PART – GONE

46. Missing

His hair felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. He was definitely not ready to wake up, not yet. Why did he always felt so tired these days? Oh, of course, it was because of the baby. It was because he just had to stand out even in the Wizarding world and be not only the first wizard to survive the Killing curse, but also one of the rare wizards who could carry a child.

Harry opened his eyes and was quite surprised when instead of the red drapes of his four-poster, he saw white ceiling above him. And it was not the Manor either, the ceiling was too low and plain, besides, he hadn’t been at the Malfoy Manor, he had returned to the school after the fight with Lucius. The Hospital Wing? No, couldn’t be. The hospital wing smelled like herbs, potions and cleanness. This was just not it.
But it wasn’t the hospital wing as well. Where was he?

Harry lifted his head looking around in panic. The room was light and very homely. Not too fancy, but the furniture looked nice, comfortable and practical. Wooden. It had that particular craft work look about it. Every flat surface was cowered with embroidered doilies; there was a clay vase with dried flowers on the table and unmoving pictures of landscapes on the walls. The blanket that he was sleeping under looked handmade as well, and like nothing, he had ever seen. It felt a bit scratchy. (1)
His bed was at the one wall of the room, there were two windows at the one wall and two doors in the other two walls.

There was nothing familiar about the setting, but it felt somewhat rural.

Then suddenly there was a knock and the door and it started to open. Professor Maxim Rasputin entered the room. He was smiling.
Harry frowned.

“Professor? Where am I? What is happening?”

The man’s smile broadened: “Don’t worry, Harry. You are safe.”

Harry tried to sit up, but he was still feeling somewhat woozy. Rasputin hurried to help the boy, arranging the pillows so he could lean against them.

“Thanks,” Harry was feeling really confused. “But where exactly am I? This is not Hogwarts, right?”

“No, Harry, it’s not,” Rasputin kept smiling.

“Wait a minute…” Harry rubbed his forehead with his hand. “I remember going to your office after coming back from Lucius… then we talked and… and… well, after that I don’t remember anything… What happened?”

“What do you think happened?”

Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Ok, Ok,” Rasputin chuckled. Then he pulled a chair to and sat next to Harry’s bed looking at boy seriously. “You see, Harry, I couldn’t watch it anymore. I couldn’t look at you sacrificing your happiness… you deserve so much more. Don’t interrupt me, please,” the man stopped all the objections the boy had been ready to voice.
“You are the most amazing young wizard I have ever seen. You are strong, smart, and courageous. You are honest and always try to be fair to everyone. In addition, you are such a beautiful boy. And you have a heart of gold, you forgive everyone everything, but people just keep hurting you… it’s so unfair, Harry, so unfair…”

Harry was watching the man wide-eyed and really taken aback.

But Rasputin continued: “I couldn’t look at you being hurt again and again, so I made a decision to take you to somewhere you will be safe.”

For a long moment, they sat there in complete silence. Harry staring at his Professor in disbelief and Rasputin… well, that was rather disturbing. Rasputin was looking at the boy with eyes full of adoration and… something else, something that made Harry feel rather unsettled. Harry almost wanted to ask Rasputin, if he was related to the Creevey brothers. But it didn’t really matter right now.

“Well, then,” the boy stated crossing his over his chest, or rather, above his stomach. “Thank you very much, it is kind of sweet, I guess… but you can take me back now. And you still haven’t told me where this ‘somewhere safe’ is.”

“We are at my home, Harry,” Rasputin finally admitted. “I think you will be very comfortable here. Do you like the room?”

“Yes, the room is fine,” Harry was starting to loose his patience. “But it doesn’t mean that I want to be here. I want to go home. I don’t like this at all. I assume you meant well and everything, but it was no necessary. I. Want. To. Go. Home.”

“I am sorry, Harry, but that will not be possible,” Rasputin shook his head sadly.

“What!”

“I am doing this for you, I am sorry, but it is for your own good. It’s time to get your breakfast,” the man stood and went to the door.

“Wait! What is going on? Have you kidnapped me or something? Yu can’t do this to me!” Harry shouted after Rasputin, but didn’t receive an answer. Why those things did always happened to him?

***


Severus Snape was leaning over a potion, watching its progress thoughtfully. Of course there wouldn’t be any doubts about its quality, if it wasn’t an experimental brew.

But no matter how deep his concentration was, the former spy would never miss any change in his surroundings. Especially the pop that announced arrival of a house elf. The man didn’t like creatures in his lab and the castle elves knew that very well. They better not be trying to clean out any of his vials or else…

“M-master Severus Snape!” The elf squealed worriedly.

“What do you want? Speak!” The man ordered. If it was the Headmaster again, then he was going to tell him where to stuff his heart-shaped chocolates. Yes, this was exactly how he wanted to spend the Sunday evening.

“Master Severus Snape,” the elf exclaimed. “Master Potter-Black-Malfoy not back! Chirpy worries. Very late!”

Snape scowled at the creature: “You are Potter’s house elf.”

“Yes! Chirpy’s a good Malfoy house elf!”

Obviously, the elf had come to Snape since he was the closest adult to Lucius here, at Hogwarts. However, it was probably not the first time Potter was out of his room after the curfew. Why was the elf so worried? It was about fifteen minutes before midnight. Not that late at all. Not for a mischievous teenager.

The elf obviously sensed the Potions Master’s doubt: “Chirpy checks Lion’s house, checks kitchens… master’s not there! Master’s nowhere!”

“Alright, alright! I got it,” Snape grumbled. He took the potion off the fire and walked out into the living room where he fire-called the Headmaster.

Albus confirmed that Lucius had returned Harry earlier today.

“Chirpy!” Snape barked. “Did you see Potter at all today?”

“No, no… Chirpy don’t see Master,” Snape looked with distaste as the round eyes were filling with tears.

“That is most alarming,” Albus Dumbledore’s eyes had lost the twinkle. “I will start questioning portraits, ghosts and other elves.”

Snape nodded: “Do you want me to call Lucius?”

“Not yet,” the Headmaster shook his head. “First alert Minerva and Filius. I will send an elf to Hagrid and Rolanda, so they can start searching the grounds.”

Snape nodded gravely. This didn’t bode well with him.

He had been watching the brat more closely than ever, since Harry had returned to the castle. But the Professor had to admit that lately he had not been as devoted to his task. He had thought that there was less reason to worry about Potter since the boy had eliminated the threat of the Dark Lord and had gotten in the family way. Apparently, there had been less need and inclination for dangerous nightly escapades, surprisingly; Potter had been very well behaved. Even Severus Snape had been forced to admit that Harry Potter didn’t get into trouble on purpose and just for kicks, the way his father had done. It had been circumstances, mostly.

About an hour later when there was no sign of Potter, Severus had been forced to fire-call Lucius who was now standing in the Headmaster’s office, looking rumpled, angry and upset, but was hiding his worry behind more anger and almost open hostility.

“Are you telling me, that my husband had simply vanished without a trace from the school which had been deemed the safest place in Britain?” The man demanded.

“Calm down and show some respect, Lucius,” Snape tried to reign his friend’s temper.

“I am not one of your students, Severus!” Snarled Lucius. “You have to deserve my respect, you can’t order it!”

Severus ignored the insult. Lucius was upset, he could understand that.

“We are doing everything we can, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall who was wearing a tartan dressing gown piped in.

“Have you questioned his friends yet? The other Gryffindors?” Lucius ignored the witch and addressed the Headmaster.

“It’s the middle of night!” McGonagall was indignant. Surely, it was not necessary to trouble the children right now.

“I don’t care!” Lucius bellowed. “My husband, my pregnant husband has disappeared without a trace! I will like to hear you making excuses to the whole Wizarding world tomorrow, Headmaster… you think I care that I care if it’s past someone’s bedtime?” He and the Transfiguration professor disliked each other greatly since the witch had been Lucius’ teacher.

“Summon Mister Weasley and Miss Granger, Minerva,” Albus smiled conciliatory at the head of Gryffindor, who looked like she was about to launch into quite a tirade. Lucius Malfoy did have a point.

As the witch angrily stalked out of the door one of the house elves popped up. “Professor Rasputin not in castle,” the creature announced.

“Why am I not surprise,” Draco Malfoy growled as he stepped trough the door. “Chirpy woke me up. She was ordered to let me know, if something happened to Potter,” the young Slytherin explained his presence to get the questions about him being there out of the way.
“Let’s get to the point, shall we? Whatever has happened, Rasputin should be our first suspect.”

“Professor Rasputin, Mister Malfoy,” corrected Dumbledore. “And that’s quite an accusation you are making.”

“So, if he’s not guilty, then where is he?” Draco looked at the Headmaster pointedly.

Severus Snape decided that Draco’s tone was as haughty as Lucius’, his friend could be proud. Looking at the both Malfoys one would be inclined to swear that arrogance ran in their blood. But he could be on something.

“I can’t answer that, Mister Malfoy, but there could be million of reasons for Maxim’s absence,” the Headmaster noted.

“It is too much of a coincidence,” Draco argued. “Something is not right with that man, besides he was way too much interested in Potter.”

“Harry trusted Maxim, he was the one Harry could talk to…”

“Oh, come on, that doesn’t mean anything, Potter is the epitome of naivety,” Draco interrupted the old wizard.

“Draco! Show some respect!” Barked Severus, in his mind recalling everything he knew about Rasputin. Then he cast his mentor an inquiring look. “Could Draco possibly be right?”

“Headmaster?” The older Malfoy backed up his best friend even if it wasn’t necessary.

“Maxim would never hurt Harry,” Albus Dumbledore announced.

“How can you know that?” It was obvious to Severus that the old man wasn’t telling something. “Albus? We have to know everything.”

“I really don’t think it has anything to do with Harry’s disappearance…”

“Humour us,” Lucius’ voice was flat. He really, really didn’t like this.

Dumbledore sighed, still looking unsure if he should reveal anything: “Maxim Rasputin is a member of an organisation that helps witches and wizards in cases they are suffering of domestic abuse.”

Snape’s eyebrows hit his hair-line: “That’s rather unusual choice for the post of Defence Professor.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes, his mouth tightening into a thin line.

“It all started when I realised that it would be impossible to get Harry free of the marriage contract,” Dumbledore sighed. “Harry was not well even before. The poor boy was not himself, the final confrontation with Voldemort had affected him more than anyone knew. And then came your demand, Lucius. I was afraid that it would be too much for the boy, for his mental health and I was afraid that you would not treat Harry well,” the blue eyes were hard as they looked at the blond aristocratic wizard.

Lucius didn’t say anything, because the old man was not that far from the truth.

“I was looking for the way to help Harry, at least somehow,” Dumbledore continued. “I came across the information about an organisation that helped witches who were abused by their husbands, children who were mistreated and so on. I owled them, assuming that they would have someone who would be able to help Harry at least by counselling him when he retuned to the school and they sent Maxim to me. He made a very good impression and it turned out was quite competent teacher, not only a healer of mind. He agreed to help Harry and obviously have; the boy had gotten considerably better.”

“It all sounds very nice, but if Rasputin doesn’t turn up before dawn today, you will have to admit that he is our number one suspect of kidnapping Potter,” Draco was not going to let it go.

“Mr. Malfoy,” the Headmaster started sounding annoyed. “I am very sure that Maxim wouldn’t put a finger on Harry. Those people help others to get away from their abusers. The wizarding law can be very old fashioned in many countries and sometimes there is no legal way to help them. Maxim and his friends have dedicated themselves to a very noble cause. I refuse believe…”

“Oh, you refuse! You are so sure?” Draco mocked. “Were you sure about Quirell? And Lockhart and Moody?”

“Draco!” Severus admonished.

However, he should have known better; Malfoy junior was not one to be easily silenced and there were not many people in the world he really respected: “It fits perfectly! He helps people to get away from their abusers? So he might have helped Potter to get away.”

“I am not abusing him!” Lucius sounded indignant.

“I am not saying that you are, father,” Draco rolled his eyes. “But who knows how Rasputin perceived the situation?”

That moment someone cleared his throat. All the man looked at the direction of the sound – it was the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.

“I have questioned portraits as I were requested, Albus,” the man reported. “Your boy has been last seen entering the office of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

“And have Harry or the professor been seen after that?” Dumbledore inquired.

“Yes, indeed, he has,” Phineas puffed out his chest, full of himself as usually. “Some time later he had been seen walking down the corridors, levitating a trunk behind him.”

“Thank you Phineas,” The Headmaster sighed deeply and despite having proved that he had been right Draco Malfoy didn’t look happier at all.

“I am going to kill him if he has done anything to Harry!” Lucius voice was steel. “Where can we found him or his ‘organisation’.”

“We have a problem here,” Headmaster admitted, seemingly reluctantly, as if refusing to believe the facts. “The ‘organisation’, they are very secretive, since there is a need to hide people they save from their abusers. All I have is a name. I owled that name and Maxim contacted me.”

“Marvelous…”

“We should try to owl them and demand that they return Potter,” Snape reasoned. “I don’t believe that he left voluntarily.”

“We had a fight,” Lucius suddenly admitted, it was as though the words burst out by themselves. Lucius was deeply worried.

“And?” Snape grimaced. “Wasn’t the first time, was it? That doesn’t mean the brat would voluntarily take off without saying a word to anyone. Was it that serious, your fight?”

“I am not sure…” the wizard sighed raking fingers through his long hair in frustration. “He wasn’t speaking to me when we parted, but to leave, just like that? I don’t want to believe it.”

“No, I don’t think, Harry would do that,” the Headmaster shook his head.

“Alright,” Lucius had obviously composed himself. He had to stay level-headed. “I think it’s time to involve Aurors and some other… of my sources.”

The mentioning of ‘other sources’ earned the blond wizard a stern look from Albus Dumbledore. “Lucius…”

“I am not yours to command,” the Ex-Death Eater snarled. “You are the one who lost my husband and my unborn heir! Better send someone to search that Professor’s room.”

“Oh, talking about searching rooms,” Draco spoke up and dug an envelope out of his pocket. “I found this in Rasputin’s office. It isn’t making much sense, but might be a clue anyway. Believe me, there wasn’t anything much lying around. He was very careful, for obvious reasons. Obvious now, that is.”

“And what were you doing in the Professor’s office?” Severus tone was scathing.

“Investigating,” Draco shot back. “Honestly, if Potter had listened to me… but I guess it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t have any proof, just a hunch that the man was up to no good. Too nice, too good to be true, you know?”

“Thank you, son, you have done well,” Lucius praised ignoring the Headmaster and the head of Slytherin who were obviously not approving of younger Malfoy’s activities. He could not care less what they thought. The pure-blood was proud that his heir had been looking out for his husband and other child and concerning his son he override their authority. “I will keep in touch and I suggest you do the same. Headmaster. Severus. Draco.”

The wizard bowed and activated the floo.

***

“I want to go HOME!” Harry shouted. It was unbelievable. It turned out that his Professor, the mind healer whom he had talked to; probably more openly than to anyone else, had turned out to be some kind of psycho and kidnapped Harry.

That was what it was. Kidnapping. No matter what Rasputin was trying to make him believe.

“Harry,” the man had said in his usual calm tone. “I understand that you are angry right now. I do. But it will get better, you will understand in time. You see, the muggle family you were living with was dreadfully neglectful and emotionally abusive. Neglect is a form of abuse as well. Then there was numerous traumatic experiences every year since you started schooling. Things no child would have to go through. You have been wronged greatly Harry.”

“I know! I know that the Dursleys were no good! But I am not living with them anymore. And you are trying to do, what? Correct those wrongdoings by kidnapping and imprisoning me?” Ha! What a great idea!

Then Rasputin’s expression changed from irritatingly understanding to deeply saddened: “Harry, you are not a prisoner here. I am sorry if you are feeling like that. I simply had to take you away from the people that have hurt you, to give you a chance to have new life, to find your happiness. You have been abused systematically, that means your perception of what is normal has been distorted. You do not see abuse for what it is. But with time you will understand.”

“I am not being abused!” Harry had protested.

“You think so, Harry, I understand. But as I told you already, your perception is flawed. Have you ever heard of the Stockholm syndrome?”

“Stockholm is the capital of Sweden,” the boy grumbled.

“But the Stockholm syndrome is a psychological response a person displays in certain situations. It’s when the victim feels loyalty to a powerful abuser. It is very common in cases of domestic abuse.”

“Lucius is not abusing me!” Harry had shouted in response.

“Harry, you can’t tell the difference,” Rasputin had looked at the boy with pity. “You will never see the difference if you will remain close to him. I understand that you feel safe with Mr. Malfoy, that you feel tied to him, but it’s not healthy, my dear Harry.”
“It’s a defence mechanism. You have convinced yourself that you want it, because that is easier way to live in your situation, where you think you have no choice. We are going to show you that you have a choice. You can be free.”

“But… but you are the one who is keeping me captive! You are taking away my freedom, my choice!”

“It only seems so, only seems so, you will see, in time,” Rasputin had smiled. “Now eat. We don’t want you getting sick, do we?”

Harry had no other choice, but to comply with the man. He couldn’t loose his cool. So, Rasputin thought he was some kind of weak, little boy who was clinging to Lucius Malfoy, because… whatever. He was not the psychologist there. He had to give it to Rasputin, his arguments sounded very good. Nevertheless, nothing was that simple. Maybe Harry would have been convinced if he hadn’t actually gone through a ‘clinging to Lucius’ phase just a couple of months ago. And gotten over it.

Now it was more like he was very attracted to the man in some ways and was struggling to accept some other things about him, like his manipulative, Slytherin nature… as far as Harry knew in that aspect they were like any other couple. Hell, Hermione put up with so much to date Ron, they were both so different, but no one said that they did not fit together. Sometimes that was the point, to be different, to complement each other.
Was it so wrong if he was falling for his husband, just because they had had a quite rocky beginning? Was it so wrong that Harry was not running, but trying to solve their differences? What right did Rasputin have to judge him?

Harry snuggled down in the bed hugging his tummy. “We are going to be alright, baby,” he whispered. “Daddy will find us. He will come for us. We just need to stay calm and wait, don’t we? It is going to be alright.”

Harry didn’t know how much time he had spent hiding under the blanket lost in his thoughts before he heard the door opening. The boy didn’t turn to look at Rasputin, he was not in the mood.

“Harry,” the man spoke. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

Alright, that got boy’s attention. Maybe it would be someone somewhat sensible, who would help him to return home.
He peered past the hem of the blanket. A girl, or rather young woman no older than twenty was standing next to Rasputin. She had the same light brown eyes, but her hair was a bit darker and curlier or just looked like it, because it was longer.

“This is Vera, Harry, my sister,” Rasputin introduced. “Vera, this is Harry.”

“That’s nice… I guess,” the boy muttered under his breath. Sister. Most likely she would take Rasputin’s side in everything. She even looked meek.

“I am very happy to meet you, Garry,”” the girl smiled. Unlike Rasputin, she spoke with an accent that vaguely reminded Harry of Viktor Krum.

Harry didn’t say anything; he simply pulled the blanket over his head again. The boy was not interested; he seriously doubted that Rasputin’s sister would help him.

“You will like it here,” Vera sounded cheerful. Too cheerful for Harry’s taste. “We have only magical people here; there is no reason to hide your magic. There are a lot of witches and wizards our age, they all know about you and want to meat you!”

Just great. Harry was looking forward to see the horde of adoring fans. This was getting worse and worse.

“I think Harry is not ready to socialise yet,” Rasputin finally said. “Rest, Harry, there is no hurry. But Vera is right; everyone really wants to see you, but we will give you all the time you will need.”

Before leaving Rasputin dared to touch Harry’s shoulder. The boy flinched and shrugged it off.

Then he was left all alone.

***
47. Coping

Come morning the whole Wizarding world was on alert and searching for their missing Saviour, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter-Black-Malfoy.

Everyone was involved. Starting with ‘The Daily Prophet’ which this time wasn’t spreading insane rumours and refrained from the usual panic-mongering. Their report was to the point and urging anyone who knew anything at all to come forward. The Ministry of Magic and Aurors were on their toes as well and those who were closer to ‘the family’ could tell that the muggle authorities were also aware that someone important had been possibly kidnapped.

Some of the ‘Order’ members that had been involved were obviously uncomfortable and didn’t even want to contemplate the fact how much power and influence someone like Lucius Malfoy had. None of them really liked or trusted Harry Potter’s husband, especially since they knew too well, how the marriage had come about. There were also some witches and wizards who had suggested that maybe The-Boy-Who-Lived had finally had enough and he had ran away and they should leave the poor boy be.

But they had been immediately reassured by those that were closest to the lost boy, that Harry had been if not happy about the situation, then content at least and would never had done anything like that and most likely had been taken against his will.

Many members of ‘The Order’ had taken residence in the castle. No one had raised any objection since the general public held opinion that everything had to be done to bring back their hero, besides Lucius Malfoy was on the board of the Governors and would have silenced all the objections immediately.
In addition there were worries that the castle was not completely safe and some more competent wizards to watch over the children could not hurt. Just in case.

In general, the Wizarding World was worried. After all Harry Potter was not just a regular schoolboy. He was a symbol. Not only the young wizard had survived the Killing Curse and defeated The Dark Lord that had wrecked chaos and threatened to destroy their world. Harry Potter had almost one of the most influential and feared of the wizards, the head of the family with dark leanings. And while most hadn’t really liked it at first, after some time they had started to look at the Potter-Black Malfoy marriage as a political union of two opposite sides testifying the end of the war and many believed that Harry Potter would certainly curb Lucius Malfoy’s dark tendencies.

And then there was Harry’s pregnancy, which was a miracle even by the wizarding standards and a proof that magic was great and omnipotent. Harry’s kidnapping had even started discussions in some circles about giving the young wizard and hi child the status of a national treasure.

Everyone wanted back their Harry Potter.

***

Under different circumstances, Draco Malfoy would have been delighted that his lover, who technically was not his lover yet, was temporarily staying in the castle. Right now, it was a cold comfort. However, the blonde found himself sneaking out of the dungeons, up to the corridor where he knew the members of ‘The Order’ were staying.

He had to be careful, since Hogwarts was bustling with life these days. It would not do to run into a member of ‘The Order’ or some Auror; they were a curious lot. He did not want people to start asking questions.

There was no portrait guarding the entrance, so Draco simply rapped on the door. After less than five seconds, the door opened and the blonde was pulled into the room and into a tight hug. He closed eyes and buried his nose into the knitted sweater that smelled like smoke and wilderness, so different from Draco’s own, expensive cologne. Large, strong fingers buried themselves into his perfect, blonde hair, probably messing it up completely. The young Slytherin never allowed anyone to touch his perfect hair. But he somehow doubted that The Dragon Tamer would comply with that rule even if Draco had tried to insist.

Not that he wanted… and the hair, as unbelievable as it was, at the moment was not his priority.

“How are you feeling?” The redhead asked when he had finally released Draco from the fierce hug a couple of minutes later.

The blonde’s shoulders sagged and he averted his eyes.

“Make a guess,”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Alright then,” Draco lifted his head and met the inquiring blue eyes. It was obvious that he was tired and stressed out, but the grey eyes were as stubborn and full of pride as always. “If you want me to describe how I am feeling then I think if I said ‘fucking shitty’, excuse me for my French, it would describe it pretty close!”

Charlie lifted one of his hands to caress Draco’s cheek: “I am sorry, Draco. I had no idea that you felt so strongly about it.” Harry was very dear to his family, but Charlie himself didn’t know the boy as well as his parents and younger siblings. He was less emotionally attached.

Draco’s lips tightened into a thin line: “Well, I do! You have how many, six brothers?”

“Five brothers and a sister.”

“Whatever, five then and the girl. I have only one and he has not even been born yet… all I ever had was Father and a mother who was not really much of a mother. Merlin, it sounds fucking weird, but I would choose Potter over her any time.”

Draco looked The Dragon Tamer into the eye: “Have you any idea how many things could go wrong? Even if they are not torturing or starving him, he could go into labour prematurely or fall… he needs to be watched by a competent mediwizard all the time! And I mean it! COMPETENT mediwizard, not some… Of course, I am worried and of course, I care! How can you accuse me of…”

Draco was silenced by Charlie’s finger on his lips: “I am not accusing you of anything. I know you care.” He pulled the younger man into another tight hug. “But it’s going to be alright. Harry will pull through and return to us. He always does. We have to believe in him.”

Draco scoffed: “Don’t give me The-Boy-Who-Lived crap. He is not The Harry Potter! He is not that strong. Yeah, he has a lot of dumb luck and some whacky magic he cannot completely control, but he is not the invincible Hero everyone wants to see. He is just a sixteen years old boy…” Draco whispered into Charlie’s neck.

They were standing together in silence, leaning against each other for some time.

Then Draco heard the Dragon Tamer sigh: “I guess you are right. We all expect too much of him. And I don’t really know Harry that well.”

“Of course I am right,” the blonde huffed. “I am a Malfoy. Malfoys are always right,” he rubbed his nose against redhead’s neck. He had not come here to fight.

Charlie chuckled and let his own hands wander a bit, up and down Draco’s slender form, his back, hip, thigh…

“Let’s sit down,” the redhead finally offered and led Draco towards a standard Gryffindor burgundy red armchair and sat on the second one opposing it.

Draco made a face: “You know, your family couldn’t have picked a House with less flattering colour-scheme. Green or blue would go with that hair of yours much better. Even yellow.”

Charlie simply smiled as he stood up and got two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey out of his trunk and set them on the little table and poured two fingers for both of them.

Draco took his glass and sniffed at the amber-coloured liquid. Charlie thought that it was awfully cute, the way the blonde wrinkled his nose. Draco was used to better brands than Ogden’s. His father had a taste for whiskey. But then… he preferred wine or champagne anyway and all the strong stuff was just too strong for his taste; it didn’t matter if it was expensive or cheap.

But Draco took a sip anyway and screwed up his face.

“You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to,” The Dragon Tamer stated the obvious with the usual enigmatic and kind smile upon his lips.

“I know. But I really need something stronger right now,” he took another sip and grimaced again. “But, really, it’s… yuck, disgusting!”

Charlie laughed merrily: “I think that’s the point. Most of the wizards enjoy the challenge. Only a real man can get it down. And then, you can get nicely drunk from it, well, no, more like completely wasted… But the taste, I am afraid that it can’t be helped… or maybe…” he appeared to be thinking of something. “Maybe like this…” and then the Dragon Tamer leaned over the table and pulled the blonde into a slow, leisurely kiss, allowing the young wizard to taste the drink that have remained on his tongue, which was invading Draco’s mouth.

“Mmm…” Draco hummed after he had been released. “I think I’ll start liking whiskey if I’ll always be able to have it this way. I think I will become addicted…” he leaned down, playfully sucked/bit on Charlie’s lip, and then released it. “I think that I’ll never have enough. This way.”

Then the blonde got up from his chair and crossed the distance of no more than one step that was between them. He was not going to take any excuses tonight. Draco needed a distraction and The Dragon Tamer was going to provide it if he knew what was good for him.

With a sinister smirk, the younger wizard crawled into his lover’s lap, straddling his powerful thighs. Draco put both of his hands on Charlie’s broad shoulders and wriggled making a show of getting comfortable, but actually shamelessly rubbing his round bottom where he knew it would be most appreciated.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, trying to look unimpressed. But he couldn’t actually fool the younger wizard; there were reactions that were impossible to hide. But The Dragon Tamer was trying. Why the hell he was being so stubborn. Draco could feel that the man wanted it. Wanted him.

The blonde gave an exasperated sigh: “Listen, what’s wrong? You want me. Don’t try to deny it.”

“Have I ever?”

“No. You haven’t. So what’s the problem?” Draco licked his lips. “I am here. Ready. Willing. Getting a bit desperate,” the boy pouted.

“Desperate enough to beg?”

“Malfoys don’t beg,” Draco scowled.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. We make other’s beg,” he punctuated what he had said with another wriggle into the other man’s lap.

Charlie let one of his fingers trail from blonde’s temple, down his cheek and line of jaw to his neck and further down the soft skin of boy’s hairless chest, under his uniform shirt to stop at his nipple: “You are so very eager to become mine, little Dragon.” Charlie drew a circle round the small bud and then flicked the protruding tip; Draco made a sharp intake of breath and Charlie’s finger stilled.

“But are you ready to deal with the consequences? Because after I will have you, after taking you and making you mine, I am not sure if I will be able to let you go again,” he punctuated the words with another tweak of Draco’s nipple.

“Oh, Salazar…” Draco whimpered. Weasley was just too much. Purring such things right into Draco’s ear, driving him half mad without even “Shut up and put your-- you know what-- where your mouth is or I’ll swear, I’ll…”

“Charlie,” the other man interrupted his other hand moving under Draco’s shirt and one finger trailing over the knobbles of his spine.

“Charlie, what?”

“It’s my name. Say it,”

“Charlie. Charlie… please…” Draco whimpered clutching the redhead’s shoulders.

“And for someone who claimed he couldn’t beg, I think you are begging nicely,” Charlie smirked and stood up lifting Draco with him, as if he weighed nothing, guiding the long legs so they wrapped around his waist.

Draco got almost dizzy with the desire he felt the moment he felt himself press against the hard body.

The younger wizard managed to loose his shirt and shoes on the way across the room. Strong, calloused hands were all over him, joined by a forceful mouth sucking on his neck, certainly leaving marks there. Good. Draco liked it a bit rough sometimes.

Then his back hit a soft, springy surface. A mattress. A bed. Oh, yes, that was good.
Draco wanted… well, about everything, but he was so high already that all he was capable of was lying back, moaning and letting The Dragon Tamer, to ravish him.

The younger wizard didn’t even register, when exactly the rest of his clothes had come off, one moment he just noticed that they were gone. Unsurprisingly. Since Charlie was kissing and licking alternatively every bit of naked flesh he could reach.

Except… the damn tease was avoiding where Draco wanted to be touched the most! And the blonde was not coherent enough to vocalise his wishes. Then Charlie slid up Draco’s body and captured his lips with his. The Dragon Tamer was still clothed, the rough material deliciously rubbing against Draco’s sensitive, heated skin. In contrast, the blonde was not wearing a stitch and, Merlin, it was such a turn on.

Draco couldn’t have told if minutes or hours passed as he was being teased by skilful hands and… fuck… but the things Charlie’s tongue was doing to him couldn’t be legal! Then Draco felt his hips being lifted and a pillow pushed under his bum.

Usually Draco was not the one to submit to someone, but with Charlie he had not been asked, had not been given much choice and it was not a surprise. He had known that it would be like this.
Draco was being savoured and pleased and it seemed that all the participation the older man required was shamefully wanton sounds Draco was making.

Merlin, but he wanted to belong to Charlie Weasley. Body and soul.

48. Conflicting


Harry had spent the day in his bed hiding under the covers. The seriousness of the situation had started getting to him. It was as if he had expected something to happen, some one to come and fetch him. He had hoped that the members of ‘The Order’ would dash in and take him back to Hogwarts or even that Lucius would come and carry him away on his strong arms.

But the hours had passed and no one had come for him. Harry was left alone in an unfamiliar place, in unfamiliar room at the mercy of people whose intentions he knew nothing about. The boy had tried not to panic, to stay strong and optimistic, for the baby if for no other reason.

And that was exactly it! His child, what would happen to his baby if Harry was not able to return home? He wasn’t sure if he could go through everything on his own. Harry wanted Ron and Hermione and Remus and Chirpy and Lucius and even Draco, the little spoiled brat who had been trying to mother Harry on his every step lately.

He needed them, he just wanted to go home!

Harry hadn’t wanted to cry, he had tried really hard to stay calm, but the tears had broken out and were trickling down his cheeks without asking permission. The boy didn’t want to be a wimp, he didn’t want to feel sorry for himself, but he couldn’t quite help it, Harry couldn’t do anything to stop his lithe form from shaking with sobs.

Harry had gotten so carried away with weeping that he had not noticed that he was not alone in the room until he almost jumped up when he felt someone’s hand touching his shoulder.

The boy spun around, startled and saw Professor Rasputin, Vera and another man standing in front of his bed.

“It’s alright, Harry,” Rasputin smiled. “Crying is a good start of healing; you must let it out…”

The boy saw red and reached for the first object he could reach, which happened to be a glass of water on the bedside table, and hurled it at the infuriating wizard that was the cause of everything. Harry wanted to hurt the man the way he was hurting!

The Russian avoided it by a hair’s breath at the last moment and the glass smashed against the wall.

“How dare you! How dare you to do this to me and then talk about healing! You… I hope Lucius gets his hands on you first! I can just imagine what he would do to you!” The boy shouted. It was kind of not his style to make use of his husband’s name like this, but he was very angry. Furious. He wanted to throw and hit things.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He yelled at the top of his lungs and then collapsed on the bed as another wave of heart wrenching sobs overtook him.

It was the girl, Vera who dared to approach the distraught teenager: “Garry… Please calm.” The girl touched his hair. “It iz not good for ze baby.”

The boy simply batted her hand away and glared at her: “Since when do you care? If you cared about my baby, or me, you would let me go home… if my baby needs anything, then it’s his father!”

“It’s going to be alright, Harry,” Rasputin cooed and the boy really wanted to smash his face in. He wan not some kind of frightened animal! Merlin, but he was too angry to speak!

“There is no reason to worry,” the sandy-haired wizard turned towards the other man who had come with him. “He is simply projecting his anger on…”

Harry found out that it was possible for him to feel more angry: “He is in the room! And, he isn’t projecting! He is very sure who he is angry with!”

The boy knew what Rasputin meant, because they had talked about projecting one’s anger and frustration on other people, because sometimes it was impossible to take it out on the person one was actually upset with.

At the moment Harry didn’t care about the psychological shit.

“Harry,” Rasputin came closer to the bed. “You have to calm down. Franz is our mediwizard. He came to have a look at you; he could give you something, a calming draught maybe…”

“You want me to let you to drug me! And don’t you even dare to touch me!” He shouted at the short, plump mediwizard who had made a step closer to the bed.

Maxim was silently praising himself for the foresight – he had put up magic dampening wards around the room and keyed them to Harry’s magical signature. That was the reason why the room was still intact. Harry’s temper-triggered, accidental magic wasn’t working there.

But if the boy continued like that, he could really hurt someone or even himself. Maxim had to put an end to it, even if he really didn’t want to resort to using magic. Rasputin made a wave with his wand muttering a sleeping charm. Harry’s gaze became unfocused, he blinked a couple of times and then his body slacked, falling down on the bed.

Vera looked at his brother, obviously distraught: “He really doz not want to be here, Max. Are you sure zat…”

“Yes I am,” the former professor looked at his sister sternly. “We are doing the right thing. He will come around. He is not the only one who has had trouble accepting that he is free. Harry will get used to us, find new friends. As soon as he will realise that we are not going to hurt him, he will be all right and ready to stat a new, happier life. Trust me.”

The young woman looked doubtful, but nodded and helped Maxim to set Harry so he was lying on the bed properly and make everything ready for his check-up with the mediwizard Franz.


***

Lucius was doing everything he could and more, but so far, the search had been unsuccessful. He hadn’t slept since Harry had disappeared, but the wizard estimated that he could stay awake for at least twenty four hours more aided by pepper-up potion and other means he knew of.

If only, there had been results…

They had sent an owl to the person whom the Headmaster had contacted previously. Someone using name, Grau Retter. The bird had returned and the letter had not even been opened. Apparently, it had been a temporarily assumed alias, which had been dropped soon after.
However, Lucius was sure that eventually he would find someone who would know and be ready to sell out one of the members of that damned Organisation. The problem was that Lucius was not willing to wait for that to happen.

He really wanted to hurt that damned Albus Dumbledore very bad this time. Meddling, old coot. Could not just leave Harry alone. What good had he ever done to the boy? That was what happened when one tried to play with lives of others. Well, yes, pot was calling a kettle back, but at least Lucius was straightforward about manipulating people. Without doubt, it was usually for his own gain, not for the greater good or for their sake. The results were predictable – Lucius achieved his goals, whatever they were.

The kind of meddling Dumbledore preferred was unpredictable. Trying to help someone else in a roundabout way was too risky. Sometimes the help was not needed and caused more harm than it did good, therefore, Lucius believed in helping himself and his family.

Dumbledore was a hypocrite, but unfortunately, a powerful one, because everyone thought that he could do no wrong and the old codger had obviously started to believe it himself… alright, maybe Lucius Malfoy often had made the same mistake and almost lost Harry that way… but it didn’t matter anyway. Most of what was happening now was Albus Dumbledore’s fault as far as Lucius was concerned.

It was a pity that he was too busy at the moment; Lucius would have tried to relieve the Headmaster from his post. Since his marriage to Harry, his influence in the Wizarding world had increased as expected. He might even succeed this time. But Harry was more important.

Lucius strolled down the hall trying to remember which room the werewolf was occupying. He had a lead, but, while it hurt the man’s pride to admit anything like that, there were people who didn’t want to talk to him, but would probably gladly pour their hearts out to a mangy beast like Lupin.

The worst thing about being married to Harry Potter was definitely the in-laws, if they could be called like that. Technically they were not even related to the boy. Not that he was going to risk pointing that out to Harry.
Light wizards, mudbloods, halfbreeds and Weasleys. Lucius wished he could get rid at least of the muggles that had raised his husband. Harry didn’t care for that scum anyway, did he?

Merlin, but he hoped that Harry was alright…

Suddenly Lucius was almost hit in the face by a door that opened right in front of him. The man jumped back.

“Bloody, damned…” the pureblood had not resorted to profanity since he had been a teenager, but Harry’s disappearance had really shaken him and now... it was just too much!

Then Lucius froze on the spot.

There was Draco standing in front of him, holding the door and looking really startled and… guilty? The older man raised an eyebrow. What was his son doing there so early in the morning, so dishevelled, looking like he had just climbed out of the bed… someone’s bed.

“Draco! Hold on!” A voice called from the room. “You forgot this.”

Next moment a… Weasley appeared in the doorway holding out what Lucius recognised as a green and silver Slytherin tie, he had had many of those in his own time after all.
Draco gulped audibly, went very pale and the older Malfoy had no doubt of what exactly had happened there.

The redhead had a gall to look perfectly calm. Well, for a moment Lucius was sure that he saw a flicker of something, but otherwise, he had to give it to the boy, he didn’t bat an eyelid.
„Good morning Mr. Malfoy,” the redhead greeted politely and Lucius could have sworn that there was a smirk tugging at one corner of the whelp’s mouth. As a Slytherin and a Malfoy he could have written a dissertation on smirks.

The fingers of his wand-hand were twitching. There was nothing much he had ever forbidden his son, but Draco had never disappointed him this far. But then, the man actually scowled (he was too tired for his usual level of self-control), as they said, there was always the first time for everything.

The timing, though, could not have been worse.

“I don’t have time for this at the moment, Draco,” Lucius let his disappointment show. This time it was appropriate enough. “But we will have a serious talk very soon.”

And with one more disgusted look sot in the red-head’s direction he strolled down the corridor.

***

49. Conversations

Severus was working on a tracking potion, when Lucius Malfoy invaded his laboratory not even knocking on the door and waiting to be admitted. Damned Malfoys, impertinent, self-centred, pampered pricks, all of them. Why had he ever gotten involved with that blasted family?

Really, if he thought about it, The Potter-Black-Malfoy marriage made a lot of sense; they had a lot in common and really deserved each other. Both of them annoying imbeciles whom Snape wished to never see again.
‘Oh, really?’ An annoying little voice, that sometimes showed up (uninvited as the most people who trespassed in his quarters), teased. ‘Yes really!’ Snape wanted to snap back and almost groaned in frustration when he couldn’t. But, yes, he couldn’t.

For about millionth time the Master of Legilimency cursed himself for his stupidity. There was no way around it. Snape had to admit it, yes he had acted foolishly. Too blinded by his hate of everything Potter, he had thrown caution to the wind and invaded Potter’s mind when the boy had been overtaken by very strong emotions, he still shuddered, remembering. He had seen almost everything, due to Potters depression and despair, the worst moments of the boy’s life had surged forward and flashed before Snape’s eyes.

A Legilimens was supposed to know better and never go into someone’s mind when they were not very sane. Grief-stricken, desperate, deeply depressed, furious, crazy in love, full of lust. It affected Legilimens’ mind in one way or another, like created a bond.

Consequently Snape could say that he new Harry Potter better than anyone else. He could not in good conscience call the brat spoiled, arrogant, glory-seeking or use any other epithet, the Potions Master had eagerly applied to James Potter. He knew the truth. He couldn’t even say a stronger word to the boy here days. But the wizard didn’t have to like it, did he?

No one liked to being proved wrong.

“Is it going to work?” Without even a proper welcome Lucius interrupted Snape’s conversation with the only person in the room who was really worth talking to.

“Unlikely,” Snape grunted, stirring with precise motion of his wrist. However, to try potion was better than do nothing. Lucius understood that. He nodded.

“I am considering using something more effective…” he drawled.

Severus’ eyes flashed and lips thinned into a tight line; he knew what Lucius meant by that. Dark magic.

“Of course you are,” he sneered. That was typical Malfoy behaviour. As soon as something skipped their control, as soon as something didn’t go as smoothly as they would like it to go, they turned to Dark Magic. Snape didn’t delude himself, he was well aware that despite numerous Ministry raids, the Manor was stuffed with tomes and scrolls holding secrets that even Lord Voldemort would have sold his soul for, collected by several generations of Malfoys.

He also knew that Lucius hadn’t actually used much of it, studied, yes, but not practiced. Some magic just wasn’t worth the price. Draco probably hadn’t even seen that part of his inheritance. No matter what some people thought, the last two generations of Malfoys had not been particularly dark.

Lucius Malfoy was really not as dark as they coloured him. He used spells and potions and artefacts the Ministry fools and self-righteous Light wizards didn’t approve of (as well as Severus), but it was nothing to the knowledge that he had access to.

But it was all there. And Severus knew that the Dark Magic Lucius was relaying to was the kind he usually didn’t touch. It was dark and it came with a price.

“Don’t do anything hasty, Lucius,” Severus warned. “I think the old man is right about one thing. Those people will not hurt Potter on purpose.”

“Ah, so hurting him accidentally would be fine?” Lucius retorted nastily.

“I didn’t mean that and you know it,” Severus snapped back. “I just don’t want to see you doing anything stupid. You shouldn’t turn to that before we have exhausted all the other means. There are sacrifices Potter wouldn’t appreciate,” he tried.

“Harry wouldn’t know,”

“The, hell, he wouldn’t! He is not stupid and those things always come out. Just wait Lucius, it’s been only three days!” Snape took a deep breath. “He is a magically very strong wizard.”

“He’s sixteen and pregnant!” Lucius shouted. “I can’t wait! I am loosing my mind with all this waiting!”

The man suddenly sagged on one of the chair, hiding face in his palms.

“You need to get some sleep,” Snape stated unemotionally, continuing to stir the potion. It was what he turned to, to try regaining control over his life.

They remained silent for some time. Lucius sitting, Snape stirring.

“Will you kill a Weasley for me, I don’t have time for that at the moment,” Lucius suddenly spoke up.

Severus raised an eyebrow; it was kind of out of blue: “Depends on which Weasley you want dead.” He would take care of those infernal twins anytime.

“One of the oldest sons. I don’t know his name. Red hair,” Snape snorted, no really, who would have thought? A Weasley with red hair. “Short red hair,” Lucius continued. “Lot’s of freckles, strong build. Not one of the twins.”

“That would be Charles,” Bill had long hair and an earring and no one would describe Percy as strong. “What has he done? Hardly the worst of them.” Severus actually liked the boy, as much as he liked anyone at all. He had been a decent student. Quiet, but not meek. Doer, not talker. It was curious that the younger the Weasley siblings got, the more irritating.

“What has he done? Well, I am quite sure that he has fucked my son,” the tone of Malfoy patriarch’s voice was could be described as dangerous.

That statement actually managed to surprise the Potions Master, but then… Charlie Weasley’s only obvious shortcoming was that he was a Weasley and Malfoys didn’t do Weasleys, until now, that is. Otherwise, he was attractive enough and Draco was promiscuous enough. No, really, the wizard couldn’t be the worst Draco has ever had in his bed. But not from Lucius perspective of course. The feud between the families was legendary, pointless, but legendary, and while Lucius might have tolerated Harry’s closeness to the Weasley family, it was a bit different.

Lucius obviously saw it as an insult to his enormous ego.

Severus was not sure what to say.

“He will tire of the man,” Severus tried. Draco always did.

“And?” The offence had been made already.

“And what do you want me to do? I am not killing anyone,” Severus almost rolled his eyes. “How many times I have told you that you are spoiling the brat? There you have the consequences.”

“Draco is a Malfoy,” as many Malfoys before him Lucius liked to use that sentence too often. As if that was supposed to explain everything. “He has been allowed a lot. Even for a Malfoy. And he should have decency to obey and not do those some things he knows I wouldn’t approve of!”

“Ah, children,” Smirked the Potions Master. “Precious little things they are. Very creative, always will find a new way to annoy you.”

Lucius groaned: “What should I do, Severus?”

“You should get some sleep. Besides that, you don’t have time to chase your son out of beds and I personally don’t think that it would be productive. You know how it works, the more you forbid something, the more they want it. In addition, your son is stubborn, even more than a regular teenager is. You could try to drop a hint to Molly Weasley, she’s the one who rules that family and bond to disapprove,” Severus mused.
“But I am not sure if she has that much of hold over her second older son. And the woman is…” Snape couldn’t quite find a non-offensive term. “She could make a public scene and it would become a public knowledge by the next day. I doubt that would benefit you.”

Lucius winced. He would feel disgraced if anyone found out that his son was consorting with a Weasley.

“So what are you implying? That I should pat Draco on the head and order him to be discreet?”

Snape looked at his best friend (even if he would sooner drink one of Longbottom’s potions than admit it) critically.

“You look like hell, Lucius. You should get some sleep and forget about your son for now; it is not as if Weasley can knock him up or something,” he concluded. When the arrogant snob was in a state like this, he usually could be ordered around quite nicely. Snape smirked in satisfaction when he saw the wizard drag him through the door that led to Potions Master’s private rooms.

Of course that meant Lucius was going to steal his bed and drool on his pillows… and it would be no use to even mention that to the blonde aristocrat who acted, as if he owned the world… but Severus was ready to let it skip. But just this time.

Or maybe nag Lucius about it after Potter returned. Yes, he smirked, that was a good compromise He was not a nice man after all and voluntary, random acts of goodness could ruin a wizards reputation for ever.

***

After three, four days of despair Harry decided that it was not going to help. No matter how much he cried or yelled, they were not letting him to return home. It was only hurting him and the baby. The boy knew that. He had started throwing up after he ate, which was not normal and he just intuitively knew that it was because he was so very upset and When Rasputin’s sister had caught the boy at it and called the mediwizard, the man had confirmed it.

Harry had to calm down, which was easier said than done. But in the end he had accepted the mild calming draught he had been offered, after Vera drank about half of it to show that they weren’t trying to drug him.

It was very mild, but still probably helped a bit. The rest Harry had to do himself, so he tried some of the calming exercises he had been taught by Hermione to deal with his temper. If he really lost it, he usually lost control over his magic as well. Luckily it was not a problem here, because something had been done to the room.

And anyway, to get himself worked up intentionally and let the magic go, was out of question. He could loose control and cause more destruction than intended. It had happened only once and he had killed Voldemort and several Death Eaters. He had become a killer No matter what these people had done to him, Harry had not wanted them dead.
He did not want Rasputin dead, not to mention his sister, Vera. Therefore, even if the room weren’t absorbing his magical outbursts, Harry would never intentionally try to blow up.

He was afraid of himself that way.

The boy tried to breathe deeply and think about the baby. Think positive, think good thoughts. He needed to calm down, to gather information, to plan. Maybe there was a way to send a message to Hogwarts; maybe he could get them to trust him and then escape. Maybe he could get to a fire-place… there were things that could be done. Panicking was counterproductive.

Maybe Lucius was already on his way to get him…

But, no, no matter how much he liked to have all his problems solved for him by Lucius, Harry couldn’t always rely on the man. He had saved the sorcerer’s stone, killed the Basilisk and saved Buckbeak and Sirius, and survived the Triwizard’s tournament. It was time to regain control over his life.

“Vera?” Harry started tentatively turning towards the young woman who was sitting on the chair by the window and busying herself what looked like knitting, but not like Molly Weasley, she knitted without magic.

“Yes, Garry,” the girl put down the half made knitting immediately and hurried to his side. It appeared to the boy that she was very eager to have him talking to her.

“I just wanted to apologise for yelling at you,” he could say it almost sincerely, since she had been looking after him and apparently was not a bad person or anything.

“Oh, Garry, don’t worry. It’s nothing, many have hard d time adjusting,” Vera smiled at him warmly.

The large, green eyes widened even more, if that was possible: “What are you saying? That there are more people like me here? That you kidnap people all the time?”

“Oh, no, Garry, no,” Vera laughed out. She pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. “I don’t exactly mean it like that… Well, I guess you are ready to hear more about this place, right?”

The boy nodded, oh, yes, he was ready to hear whatever she was ready to tell him. Especially something, that would help him to find a way to get out of here and return home.

“You see, Garry, this community was founded about forty years ago by our present leader, Constantine, we call him just that, since he has denounced his family and doesn’t want to hear their name… You see, Constantine was mistreated by his relatives, he suffered greatly in their hands, so he ran away. He built himself a house here and with a help of a kind friend it was put under fidelius charm, if you are familiar with it…”

Harry nodded, oh, he knew what fidelius was very well…

“After some time Constantine’s friend asked him if he could take in a witch who was abused by her husband and wanted to get away. Constantine agreed, of course. He is a very kind man, you see… and so it started. More houses were built, more people were coming…”

“But you kidnapped me. I didn’t come,” Harry objected.

“Yes, well,” Vera smiled sadly. “Sometimes there are other people who plead for their friends, siblings, mothers… well, you see, sometimes people don’t want to be saved. They are so used to abuse and they believe that they love their abusers… Sometimes people have to be helped against their will. They want to return to their homes for some time, but in time they realise that it is more of a habit and, and that they are better off here…” She sniffed and averted her eyes.

Harry felt sorry for the young witch. Obviously, she was talking more or less from personal experience.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s alright, Harry,” Vera tried to smile through her tears. “It has been ten years, I have healed, you will too.”

“Listen, Vera,” Harry tried. “It’s not like that with me…”

“Of course you think it’s not…” she just shook his head. “Max told me about your case—“

“It isn’t!” The boy snapped. He hated that whatever he said, they did not listen to him, just kept babbling about their damned Stockholm syndrome. “I am very aware that Lucius can be a bastard and that our marriage didn’t start well and that it was mostly his fault. He had no idea that he was doing something wrong. Lucius has been raised up to be that way. You could consider that abuse as well.”

“But Lucius realised his mistakes. He is trying to make it right; now he is treating me like a prince. He had not really hurt me since. And I realise perfectly well that I don’t love Lucius. Yeah, I am pretty much attracted to him and probably falling in love,” Harry blushed as he admitted that. “I think I could love him for real… but I am nowhere his voluntary love slave, slash, whipping boy or whatever your brother is trying to make of me!”

“I am sorry, but we can’t trust you on that, Garry,” Vera kept smiling sadly and the boy found it infuriating. “You are like a person who uses drugs; you’ll do everything to get the next fix…”

“You know what!?” Harry’s resolve to stay calm was fading. “You are the ones that are abusing me! You are treating me the same way I have been treated for my whole life! You are deciding for me where I should live and with whom, not asking me what I want! I am sick of it! Lucius at least came around and started considering my needs, he has learned. But some other people, obviously never will, like Albus Dumbledore…”

Suddenly Harry realised something…

“It was him! Wasn’t it? He hired Rasputin! He got me taken away, the damned, meddling… you shouldn’t have listened to him! That man had never made a good decision about my life! He was the one who forced me to live with the Dursleys and kept hiring all those awful Defence professors who all tried to kill me…”

Vera had paled and looked truly distraught: “Garry… none of us here means you any harm…”

“Oh, and that makes me feel so much better!” The boy snorted. “Everyone always means well, Dumbledore, the Weasley family. But it turns out badly. Lucius didn’t mean well at all, but it turned out alright. Ironically.”

“Garry, are you sure that…”

“Yes! I am fucking sure! You haven’t seen him, have you? He is gorgeous, you know, all that blond hair, down to his shoulder blades… and his face… he’s all high and mighty in public, but when there are only two of us and Draco, he has a gorgeous smile as well. And Lucius is so tall and strong…” Harry flushed, not really being able to admire his husband’s body aloud.

“But, Garry, good looks isn’t everything…”

“I told you already, didn’t I? He treats me like a prince. He takes me places and showers me with presents. He arranged an extra Hogsmeade weekend to see me, for Merlin’s sake! I know I might seem shallow, but I like fine food, I like watching Quidditch matches from a private box. I like knowing that he will always be there for me, that he does not expect me to save him or something, that he is ready to solve all the problems I might have for me. He is so strong, that I can be weak, if I want to. And I finally have a family, you know. Malfoys, they are very loyal to their family. They don’t care for others much, only for themselves, but they care for each other a lot.”

“When my life finally starts assuming its normal course your brother comes and takes it all away from me! I don’t care how well who means! I hate it! I hate it here. I hate wearing second hand clothes!”

The members of the community had donated items of clothing that they didn’t need anymore. Since Harry was pregnant, they were all oversized, ugly robes and shirts, one even looked like a maternity dress. He was not a girl!

“But, Harry, our people gave those to you from their hearts…” Vera sounded appalled.

“I DON’T CARE!” Harry shouted. “Don’t you get it? I am not going to feel grateful to you. You put me into this situation. I have a billionaire husband at home who is capable of buying me thousands of robes that don’t remind me of my cousins cast-offs I was forced to wear for years. I didn’t even have my own underwear or socks. Don’t you dare to tell me that I am spoilt or shallow and even if you think I am, I don’t care! I want to go home!”

Harry’s breathing was laboured when he finally finished shouting. So much for pretending to be cooperative and staying calm.

Vera looked truly disturbed though. She sprang to her feet, tears in her eyes and dashed out of the room.

TBC

A/N: I owe you some responses for chapter 8 and 9. And now there is chapter 10. The thing is that review answering takes a lot of time and I have no idea if you want me to answer or just to know. So if you have questions – make them very clear, so I know that I need to answer.

Ithilwen: I am glad that you like Draco and Charlie. I know that the story is a bit fluffy here. But don’t really want to do anything about it.

Woof: Who says he/she stopped reading the story – I am sorry if you found something upsetting here. But I have no idea what you mean.

Demerious: Thank you, you are great. Well, these days there are very few plots that aren’t clichés and I am glad that you find my version enjoyable.
I wish you to never run out of Fish & Chips. Thanks, that was interesting.

Rokkis: I love embarrassing my characters. Especially Draco. Hm, should do it more! And torturing readers… can I blame my Muse? Cheers!

ladyedgecombe: About Harry and Lucius taking their sweet time to get together – well, the story is not very realistic as it is. I think Lucius can be happy that Harry is letting him anywhere near him! Enjoy.\

mithrilandtj: Oh, my I am so embarrassed and LOFL. Did I really wrote that! Comfort Voldemort instead of confront. Oops!

MysticFae: Yes, you have a point about pregnant people. I think there are some annoying attitudes others display towards them.

Anon: Come on! Charlie and Draco is like Romeo and Juliet.All that tension and the opposites attract thing and dragons. I think a spoiled rich boy like Draco himself would bore him to death. Besides, Lucius hates Arthur and Draco – Ron, but he has never actually met Charlie and Bill.
About naming the child after Severus – an interesting idea, but, no. the thing is, while Severus’ opinion about Harry has changed, he had been more of a secret guardian, watching from the side than Harry’s new best friend. Harry had noticed that Snape has become kinder, but that’s about it.

SDrarrysLover: I am glad to hear that someone reads the stuff that isn’t the story and I am glad that you like the story. I hope you liked the Draco and Charlie part of this story.

ladyedgecombe: no, I think that is no secret that I would not kill the baby.

Sophie Max-Anderson: I am happy for—err, you both, he, he. But if seriously – enjoy it! Cheers.

Darkness Vasion: You know what? You are giving me ideas! That fan girl comment will make me to write Rasputin as an evil crosdresser or something.

Glossary
(1) Harry’s Blanket – living in London Harry has probably never seen a real woollen blanket. Trust me, the old fashioned, real ones are a bit scratchy.

Stockholm Syndrome - is a psychological response sometimes seen in an abducted hostage, in which the hostage shows signs of loyalty to the hostage-taker, regardless of the danger (or at least risk) in which the hostage has been placed.
Stockholm syndrome is also sometimes discussed in reference to other situations with similar tensions, such as battered person syndrome, rape cases, child abuse cases and bride kidnapping.

Grau Retter – grey saviour or something like that. (German)
Unanswered questions
Vera calls ‘Harry’ ‘Garry’, because that’s about how the name sounds in Russian.
Persons
Vera Rasputina – Vera (faith in Russian, also a popular woman’s name). Maxim Rasputin’s sister. About 20years old, has light brown eyes and dark brown, curly hair.
Time table
15th of February/evening – Harry gets kidnapped.
16th of February/morning – They discover that Harry is missing.