When Living Ain\'t Easy

All warnings, disclaimers, and most story notes found in prologue.
Sorry, no smut yet... and this chapter took a more serious turn than originally intended. Still, it seems to have worked out nicely. Enjoy!

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Chapter Nineteen : Valley of the Dolls

Harry grinned as he closed the book he\'d just finished reading. He could see why such a topic wasn\'t taught at Hogwarts -- the urge to use this information against his peers was niggling at him, so very tempting.

Looking up, he found himself to be the focus of a matched set of silver gazes. \"Right then, where do we start?\"

\"Severus should be back shortly with a few... tidbits for your experiment.\" Lucius\' smirk was almost a true smile as he watched the young wizard. It was a relief to all that Harry\'s black mood had lifted, however temporary that might prove to be. \"If memory serves, it is best if one creates the simicula by hand. Why don\'t we begin putting together the essential materials while we wait.\"

In a flash, Harry fled the room to find whatever scraps of fabric and stuffing were laying about the house that might prove useful to his Voldie Voodoo doll.

With the Gryffindor out of earshot, Lucius leaned toward his son and asked in a quiet voice, \"How long do you expect his good temper to hold?\"

\"Honestly? I have no idea. He was so much more predictable before fifth year. Now... we probably have a day or so before something else sets him off.\"

Nodding, the Malfoy patriarch made no attempt to hide his grimace of displeasure from the pronouncement. \"After Harry returns with his supplies, do go search through his possessions for some small item we could use as a focal point.\"

\"Father!\" Draco\'s eyes widened in mock horror. \"Surely you don\'t wish to add phantom pain to Potter\'s list of complaints.\"

Lucius chuckled softly, leering playfully in the Gryffindor\'s direction. \"Not at all, Draco. Let us just say that the books fail to mention an alternate usage for these little dolls.\"

Knowing he would get nothing more out of his father before the man was ready, Draco sat back in his chair and allowed his mind to wander. He soon caught on to the inferred suggestion, and grinned at the older man.

Their attention was diverted toward the hall as they heard Severus return, just in time to meet Harry on his way back to the study. The Boy Who Lived radiated an expectant air of mischievous pleasure, made more wicked by the expression on Severus\' face: complete malicious satisfaction, almost to the point of triumph.

\"I see you were successful in your foray.\"

A deep rumbling laugh answered the implied question. Severus tossed a small bag on the morning\'s breakfast table before shrugging out of his robes and shoes. He folded long legs into a comfortable position and began removing the various items scavenged from his private stock. A knot of long, curly hair. A vial of fingernail clippings. Two stiff whiskers. A wad of rust-colored cloth containing a broken tooth. A small beaker of formaldehyde with something fleshy suspended within. A small grainy black stone. A curved disk, possible of bone. A second vial containing several strips of scaley skin and a tiny splinter.

Lucius recognized at least half of the items, and had to hold himself in his chair for fear of falling out of it as he burst into whooping laughter. His little display went on so long that the younger wizards became concerned.

\"Father, I\'ve heard that the occasional breath is important to continued brain activity.\"

Waving away his son\'s comments, and Harry\'s uncertain hand on his shoulder, Lucius forced himself to calm down. Through gasps of air, he glared in mock accusation at his friend.

Severus was the perfect picture of feline satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with the \'dead mouse\' he had brought to the party. With one long, pale finger, he identified each object.

\"A lock of hair formerly belonging to one Bellatrix Lestrange. If I recall correctly, this was rather forcefully removed by your mother, Draco. One of their frequent... conflicts.\"

Pointing to the disk of bone. \"And this would be her beloved husband\'s. Rodolphus spent weeks hobbling around as his kneecap was regrown.

\"The whiskers are from Pettigrew\'s animagus form, of course. They were plucked for us by Nott, for some petty revenge I assume, which led the rat to take this sample of Nott\'s right hand. During the entertainment, Dolohov got a little too close, receiving an elbow to the face for his trouble -- it knocked a tooth loose, not that his dental status is good by any means.\"

Bouncing the stone in his hand, he smirked. \"A gallstone, rather large for such impurities, rather painfully removed from Avery in emergency surgery last winter.\"

Holding the first vial, Severus continued, \"These were rather more difficult. McNair is almost as paranoid as Mood, but even the most vigilant will eventually slip up.\"

At this, the Potions Master paused to summon tea for the group. He took his time adding honey and lemon to his cup, breathing in the fragrant steam before sipping down half the liquid. He looked up finally at the expectant faces, then let his lips curl into a vindictive sneer.

\"This last bit is what you were all hoping for, I believe. A skin sample from Voldemort\'s new body, and a sliver of his wand.\" Somewhat thoughtfully, Severus\' voice lost its triumphant quality, turning curious. \"I have never seen a wand \'molt\', but it appears to be doing just that. Ollivander has told us for years that the wand and its user are connected at the most primal levels. Shall we see how true that is, gentlemen?\"

The expressions on his companions\' faces were everything he might\'ve hoped for. Lucius\' normal aristocratic hauteur was gone, replaced with glowing pride in his lover\'s contribution. The younger Malfoy fairly radiated of vengeful hunger. And Potter... Harry\'s jaw was practically dislocated in shock. But even as he reveled in the teen\'s gobsmacked look, the young man launched himself at his teacher, latching on in a death grip hug and burying his face in Severus\' neck.

\"Thank you, Sev, oh gods, thank you!\"

Awkwardly putting his arms around his student, Severus returned the hug even as his eyes begged suggestions from the blonds. Draco nodded once, firmly, silently telling him to continue his current actions. Moving toward the two dark-haired men, Lucius knelt beside them and wrapped his arms around the babbling teen. Together, the older wizards rocked Harry in a gentle rhythm, allowing him to release the emotional buildup within their stable embrace.

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Draco kept himself apart from the trio on the floor. As much as his conscience nagged him to join them, the memory of his visions said otherwise. That this was a pivotal moment, the starting point of the triad. He knew the eventual outcome -- Saw it clearly, well before the summer began -- but to be witness to its beginnings...

He felt a wistful jealousy try to take hold within his heart, and ruthlessly squashed the unwelcome emotion before it could settle into something truly nasty. For every person, there was a match. The gods had hinted that he would not meet his mate until after the Dark Lord\'s defeat. Draco resigned himself to monitoring the triad\'s progress, making certain that nothing interfered with their budding relationship, until the day when the gods finally led him to his own lover

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Safe. Warm. Comfort. Compassion. Alleviation of fear. Arms to hold him, keep him sane, share the burden of his turbulent emotions. Balance -- something new and different, a feeling he\'d never been blessed with before. Completion -- as if his very soul had finally been cemented to his body. Nothing in Harry\'s short life had ever made him feel so secure, so well cared for. His brief relationship with Ginny had been all blushing giggles and childish gestures compared to this. *Nothing* could compare to this.

His mind replayed the sensations of ghostly hands in more intimate places, but Harry refused to allow the threatening surge of arousal to interrupt this moment. He knew that there was an attraction between him and these men, but that was a matter to be addressed later. At present, he only wished to memorize the completely new sensation of rightness that enveloped him. Here, in the arms of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. The irony of his old prejudices versus his instinctual need for these men was not lost on him -- he simply chose not to think long on it. Later, he would ruminate over the situation. For now, his starved mind and heart would receive their fill of every comfort these two seemed so determined to offer.

He snuggled deeper into their embrace, at last secure enough to unload the tears that had accumulated over the years. Tracks of silver tears slid down his face, wetting Lucius\' arm, Severus\' shoulder. Neither man made any comment. Harry finally opened the dam of grief he\'d kept locked inside. Without knowing when it began, he cried for Dumbledore\'s sacrifice, for Sirius\' senseless loss behind the veil, for Cedric -- so young, for the betrayal of his parents, for their deaths. He cried, at last, for himself. For every year at Christmas when he was forced to observe the \'happy family\' he was never allowed to be part of; for the birthdays he\'d spent locked in his cupboard, nursing his own wounds; for every pang of hunger, both physical and emotional; for growing up too fast; for his ignorance, his too-early loss of innocence; for the numerous undeserved beatings and malicious words. Finally, finally, he cried tears of hope. For the first time in his life, Harry allowed himself to believe that he wasn\'t alone, that just maybe he had someone to support him.

Over his head, Lucius and Severus shared one of their \'looks\'. In this instance, neither man felt bad for their unspoken communication. What Harry needed was not empty words of comfort, but the very real presence of strong arms and sturdy bodies. A physical guarantee to back up the silent statement: \"We are here, and we won\'t let you fall.\" Even having expected this breakdown, neither Slytherin was prepared for the strength of their need to comfort and shelter the Boy Who Lived.

The elder Malfoy felt his lungs constrict at the wealth of emotion he experienced, as never before. He saw a similar revelatory expression on Severus\' face, a tenderness that spoke of deep empathy and caring. If he had once entertained thoughts of a quick, meaningless tumble with Harry, those thoughts were now overrun with the desire to never let loose his hold on these two precious men. His frozen heart cracked its thick layer of ice as the brunets wedged their way inside. He wondered briefly why he had not taken his off again-on again relationship with Severus more seriously, finally concluding that it was not time. Now he was ready to accept whatever the future held for him.

For many long years, Severus had wished for a more stable partnership with his fickle lover. The period of Lucius\' marriage to Narcissa Black had been a trial for all involved, but most especially to his own heart. When she left, he had entertained notions of a firm commitment from the blond, but nothing was ever said. Only now, sharing a desperate embrace with his love and his most exasperating student, did he finally understand -- as much as he loved Lucius, they would not have been enough for each other. With Harry Potter, they stood a chance at the fulfilling relationship he had dreamed of since that first night in Lucius\' bed, almost two decades ago. Some small section of his brain laughed maniacally at the thought of James Potter rolling over in his grave, but it was quickly subdued by Lily\'s voice admonishing him to think only of the present.

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He didn\'t need stealth to escape the room, as the triad\'s full attention was on each other, but Draco decided the practice would do no harm. Quietly shutting the door to give them more than an illusion of privacy, he made his way back down the hall.

There was little more he could do for the day, except to track down the Gryffindor\'s token for his father. Calling Dobby, he asked the elf to locate some article of old clothing that Harry might have forgotten to destroy. He added a request for supper to be delivered as well, figuring that none of his companions would be up to cooking.

With the elf\'s energetic departure, Draco was at loose ends. He could take care of his summer assignments, but that idea was dismissed out of hand -- not only was he feeling too lazy to worry about them, but his books were currently in the study. His changed alliance meant that any correspondence with his housemates would be awkward at best. This left him only one option. Something that could easily occupy him for hours at a time.

Collecting his bag and a clean change of clothes, Draco shut himself in the bath. A long soak in steamy water sounded just the trick. And since he was such a good boy, leaving the lovebirds to their own devices, he decided to indulge a bit. With bubbles.