Darkmoon and LIght

Disclaimer.... Not mine....No money was made from the writing of this story.

A/N. Thank you all for your patience with waiting for this chapter to come out. I just wanted you all to know the correct way to pronounce the name of the Doctor in this chapter. Girret Van Der Meulen, is pronounced Garret (sounds like carrot) Van Der Mule Lynn. Trust me; I've had years of pronouncing this one to people who keep mixing it up.


Chapter Five

Not a word was said until the sound of the running water from the shower came from the other room. As soon as Poppy deemed it safe, she turned to face the others. “I do believe, gentlemen, that I had just finished explaining the need for Mr. Potter to remain calm. The best way for him to do so is for those around him to do the same. I'm not sure if anyone else noticed, but that young man barely managed to keep his magic under control, which as the case may be, put even more strain on his already damaged lungs then if he would have let it all out,” she told the four of them, her anger rising.

“I'm not sure if Albus informed Severus just who destroyed his office at the end of last term, but he told me who it was, so let me explain,” she said while looking at the Potions Master, who shook his head no. “It's a good thing that Harry forgot that he could do magic when he was last in that office, otherwise there would not have been anything left, as is there was almost nothing left of the magical artifacts in it. That's how bad that young man’s temper is, and how strong he is. Knowing that, think about what would have happened if he had released his hold on his magic in here.” Poppy paused and let that sink in for a few minutes. “I can not honestly say that the Manor would have remained standing; I do know that this wing of the Manor would have been destroyed,” she told them all slowly, barely keeping hold of her own temper.

Draco, for all his astonishment at what Poppy had just told them, couldn't help exclaiming in disbelief. “But Madam Pomfrey, you would actually allow him to see a Muggle?!”

Before Poppy could hex the young man in front of her, she was stopped by Severus. “It doesn't matter, Draco, if she would or would not. I happen to agree with Harry. Before the Dark Lord’s return, I spent time with one of my Muggle born students who went to a Muggle University and became a Muggle Healer. He's very good at what he does, and treats both Muggle and Wizard kind. If Harry would like to see him, I will do what I can to get him in,” he told his godson.

Lucius looked at Severus in curiosity, though there was still a hint of disgust showing in his eyes. “Which student?” he asked softly.

“Girret Van Der Meulen. He was an excellent student in all his classes, and felt that he could make more of a difference serving both Worlds. He's very busy, but I'm hoping he'll make the time if I ask him to.”

No one had heard the shower being turned off in the bathroom, so Harry's return to the conversation surprised everyone. “Can you contact him by Floo?” he asked softly.

Severus and Lucius both turned quickly, wands automatically in hand, and stunning spells on the tip of their tongues. Harry for his part, also responded subconsciously to the threat, and brought up a wandless shield by instinct alone. When he realized what all three of them did, he started laughing. “Merlin, if Mad-eye could see us now,” Harry laughed leaning against the wall for support. “Constant vigilance,” he finished before sliding to the floor, dismissing the shield as he went, while being careful not to show how much laughing hurt his chest.

Severus brought his wand down and gave a snort of disgust, he actions mirrored by Lucius. “Brat,” he muttered under his breath as he walked out of the room. “Of course I can contact him by Floo. How else do you expect for him to see his Wizarding patients?” he asked over his shoulder.

Harry watched his father walk out of the room before attempting to stand, and wished that he could get everyone else to leave also, not wanting them to see him struggle with both standing and breathing.

Draco watched Harry through narrowed eyes, and caught the glimmer of embarrassment that flashed through those green eyes. “Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't you be going with Uncle Sev to talk to this Healer? It would probably be easier if this guy knew what he was dealing with,” he said with a trace of his usual sneer.

Poppy and Eve exchanged a look before both hurried out the door to catch up with the Potions Master, leaving only Lucius in the room. Giving his son a considering look, he too turned on his heel and left the boys alone.

The moment his father was out of sight, Draco quickly crossed the room to close and lock the door, before once more turning to face a very pale Harry. “Alright Scarhead, the adults are gone, but knowing them, they'll be back soon. Knowing your father the way I do, I also know that he'll be back long enough to pick you up and take you to the Healer’s, not worrying at all about your clothing or lack thereof,” he said with only a hint of disgust.

Harry glared half-heartedly at the blond as he struggled to get to his feet. Giving up, he settled against the wall and stretched his legs. “And your point would be what, oh Mighty Ferret?" he sneered, still not willing to forgive the other teen just yet.

Returning the glare Draco started walking closer to Harry. “My point would be that for the moment you need to accept my help. First we'll get you off the floor and into some of my clothing, and then make sure that you have your wand and the Goblin glamour. After that, we'll call that demonic house elf of yours and have a cup of tea in the adjoining sitting room and wait for the adults to come back,” Draco said, stopping a foot away from the dark haired teen with his hand outstretched, giving Harry the option of accepting his help or not.

Looking up from his spot on the floor, Harry considered Draco's offer. “I'm still not willing to forgive you,” Harry said softly.

“I know. You can yell at me later,” Draco said just as softly.

Harry looked at the hand that was still being held out to him, and was reminded of the first time that hand was held out to him, only this time asking for trust instead of friendship. “There will be a condition to me accepting your help right now. You will need to find me plain clothing. Nothing fancy. Deal?” When Draco reluctantly nodded his head in agreement, Harry reached out and grabbed the hand that had never wavered, allowing the blond to carefully pull him onto his feet.

Twenty minutes and three arguments over what was considered nothing fancy later, Draco and Harry finally sat down to a cup of tea, Draco looking smug and Harry glaring disgustedly at the blond, while picking at the sleeve of the blood red silk shirt that he was now wearing, along with a pair of form fitting black trousers. “Nothing fancy I said. I have nothing plainer you said,” Harry grumbled.

“Oh stop your complaining-- I could have brought out my dress clothes,” Draco finally snapped.

“Malfoy, these are dress clothes!”

Draco gave him a considering look, before nodding his head. To Harry, those were dress clothes. “Those are dress clothes to you, but not to me. Just wait until the adults decide to gang up on you, and have the tailor brought in,” he said. ‘Besides, you look bloody amazing in them,' he thought to himself, turning his face away so that Harry could not see the faint blush that came to his cheeks.

Harry sat fiddling away with the edge of the sleeves on his borrowed shirt for a few more minutes before he looked over at Draco. “Is being a half-blood, or a Muggle-born so different from being a pure-blood?” he finally asked.

“Of course!” Draco exclaimed. “Pure-blooded breeding has insured that we will always be better then those who dirty their blood with an inferior race,” he started to explain, only to see Harry's eyes darken to almost black in anger.

“Dirty blood? Inferior race?” Harry practically hissed. “I have never heard such racism from one who is supposed to be of the proper breeding,” Harry continued, his hair starting to shift in a magical breeze.

Draco swallowed against his suddenly dry throat before gathering himself. “I don't see why you're so upset. With James Potter and my Godfather as your parents you, yourself are a pure blood.”

Harry laughed bitterly before answering, “You are wrong, Draco Malfoy. James Potter was a pure blood, true enough, but your Godfather is a half blood. His father is a Muggle,” he said, watching as the young blond stared at him in shock before loosing what little natural color he had. “You also seem to forget that it's a Muggle born that kicks your arse in every subject.” Grabbing hold of his magic and his anger, Harry took as deep as a breath as he could, before deciding to drive his point home, vaguely aware of three others standing at the door listening in. “Tell me Draco, do you know who Tom Riddle is?” When he saw the blond shake his head in the negative, he continued, his voice dropping down to the dangerous purr that was so like his father’s. “Tom Riddle’s mother was a pure blooded Witch who ensnared the senses of a young Muggle Lord. His full name is Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Harry explained, spelling out the name in the air with his wand like the young Riddle did all those years ago in the Chamber of Secrets, and then waved his wand until the letters rearranged themselves in the one name that would get his point across, 'I am Lord Voldemort'. Harry let them hang there for a moment before banishing the words and snarling, “Get. Out. Of. My. Room. And don't darken the door again, until you come to your senses.” Harry then turned his back on the young pure blooded blond.

The shell shocked teen stared at his darker companion for a moment longer before he turned to the door, his already pale features going pasty white, seeing the three adults standing there glaring at him. Realizing that not only did he break rule one when it came to Harry at the moment (don't get him upset) but also managed to disappoint and anger his Father, Godfather and Aunt, he dropped his eyes and slowly made his way past three sets of eyes, and moved towards his room, his mind and beliefs in a jumbled mess.

Severus watched his Godson’s back until he started up the stairs leading to his tower room, and then turned back to his own son. Walking into the room, he slowly went to Harry's side and put a careful hand on his shoulder, not surprised when he flinched away. “Harry?” he asked softly, keeping the anger he felt out of his voice.

Raising his head, Harry turned his tear filled green eyes on his father, for an agonizing moment, before giving a despair filled sob and burying his head in the mans robes, clinching his hands into fists in the fabric tightly, as if his life depended on this one act.

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tight for a moment, and then let go, bending over slightly and picking the slight teen up and sitting down in one of the chairs with Harry on his lap, gently running his hands over Harry's back. “That's right son, let it out,” he whispered.

“'M sorry,” Harry whimpered

“You did the best you could do. It's up to Draco now to take what you said and find his own truth.”

“My fault.”

“What is?”

“Everything.”

“Utterly ridiculous notion. This is not your fault,” Severus told him firmly.

Harry lifted his head high enough to look his father in the eye, hoping to read the truth in those dark eyes. What he saw, gave him his first taste of hope, that someone actually did believe that he was not to blame for this mess. Giving his father a slight nod, he attempted to rub the tears out of his eyes only to have them grabbed away from his face, and a silk handkerchief thrust in them.

“If it's the only thing we teach young man, we will install proper manners into you,” Lucius sneered at a blushing Harry.

“You can try, you mean,” Harry said with a small smile, earning him a swat upside the head from his grandmother and smirk from his father.

“Alright brat, it's time to get you to that Healer. He said he can see you today, as long as we are there within the next hour,” Severus snarked.

“Of course father. Just give me a moment to get cleaned up,” Harry replied, before getting off Severus’s lap and going to the bathroom, unaware of the shocked looks on the adults faces at his slip.

Severus turned and looked at Lucius and his Grandmother with sheen of tears in his eyes. “Did he…?” he tried to ask.

Lucius smiled slightly as he nodded his head. “He did indeed,” he said

“And I don't think he realized it,” Eve continued.

The corner of Severus' mouth turned up slightly in a small smile, and used the time given him by Harry cleaning up to get control of his own emotions once again. When Harry walked back into the room, Severus once again had himself in control, and with a gentle touch on his son's shoulder he led him to the Floo in the library. Moments later, the two of them were swept away in a haze of green flame.

~~hp~~hp~~hp~~

Arriving at the Healer’s, the two of them were admitted immediately into Healer Van Der Meulen's office by the intern and told to sit for a moment and wait for the Healer to arrive.

Five minutes later, a distracted man dressed in Healers robes, entered the room, reading a thick file as he went and sat behind his desk. A moment later he looked up and made eye contact with Harry. “Mr. Potter, I only have one question for you at the moment. Is what I have read in this file true?”

Harry's eyes flicked between the Healer and his father, “Which part, Sir?” he asked licking his lips nervously.

Opening the file to the beginning Healer Van Der Meulen started flipping through the pages. “I understand the Quidditch injuries, even the one where you had your arm removed in your second year. Those Madam Pomfrey has made sure to highlight so they are not connected in anyway with anything else. I just find it amazing that your bones have withstood over the years as well as they have with the malnutrition and all the beatings you've taken over the years from those who you lived with. What I'm trying to get over where the other injuries you received while at Hogwarts. In your first year you made your way through a series of traps designed by the Professors themselves and faced You-Know-Who, and had his spirit blow through your body, leaving behind internal bruising and Dark Magic that to this day has not been healed,” he said in disbelief, looking up to meet Harry's eyes once again.

“I wasn't told about the injuries themselves, but if that's what Madam Pomfrey said in the file then it is the truth, but the circumstances in which I received them in are true,” Harry said quietly.

Shaking his head, the Healer continued, “Second year… now this I find really hard to believe… you battled with and then were bitten by a Basilisk, which you did indeed kill, and moments later, using the fang of said Basilisk, which was coated with venom, killed once again, a younger version of You-Know-Who.”

“Fawkes healed that bite.”

“But you continued to handle the fang after you were healed? Did you also know that the touch of Basilisk venom against the skin will also kill?”

“No Sir,” Harry said going slightly paler then before.

“Where is this fang, Mr. Potter?”

“The Headmaster gave me a small wooden chest to put it in. It's with the rest of my things back at the Manor,” Harry told him.

“When you have a chance, I would like to examine it, Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked at the Healer for a moment, trying to read the man's eyes before nodding his head. Turning to his father, he started to ask him to retrieve the box only to find that Severus was staring at him in complete shock. “Um… Sir… are you alright?” he asked, but received no answer. Sighing softly he knew that there would be a whole lot of questions waiting for them, when they got back to the manor, and almost decided that it wasn't worth the effort to stay where his father could find him. Sighing once again, he concentrated on the box that held all of his belongs, and raised his hand directed his magic to curl around it. With a twist of his wrist, not unlike the move he would make to catch the snitch, and with the box still pictured in his mind, he called the box to him, and felt his magic respond.

A smile lit up his face as he set the box down on the desk, touched the lid and watched as it opened for him. Reaching inside he felt around until his hand came in contact with a second familiar box. Pulling it out and trying not to watch as it returned to its regular size as it exited the box, he gently cradled it in his hands before opening it with careful fingers. Looking up to catch the Healers eyes, he placed the opened box on the desk as well and turned it so the Healer could see what was inside.

Leaning forward Healer Van Der Meulen glanced inside the box, and almost toppled over his chair again as he tried to put as much distance between him and the desk. “Dear Merlin Mr. Potter, tell me you at least have that box warded?”

“Um no, not unless the Headmaster did so.”

Swearing under his breath, the Healer looked over at the Potions Master who had the same look of shock in his eyes. “Professor, I'm afraid my spell work is not all that great. Never has been for that matter. Would you be kind enough to check to see what protections have been placed on that box?”

Severus had finally managed to get over his shock when Harry had produced the box using Elven Magic. His pride at that accomplishment had once more been overshadowed by shock when he saw what was in the box. With a slight nod of his head at his one-time student, he flicked out his wand, and started casting diagnostic spells. Heaving a sigh of relief he looked up at the Healer. “It's alright Girret, it seems the crazy old coot managed to do this one correct. The only one who can open that box, never mind see it in the first place, is Harry. The protections around it are formidable. There is no chance that the venom can leak from it in any way.”

Heaving a sigh of relief himself the Healer came back to his desk. “Alright then, as this has indeed answered the question on wither or not this file is true, I don't believe reliving any of the rest of it is necessary.” With another look at fang and a small shudder, Healer Van Der Meulen turned back to Harry. “Mr. Potter, if you would please put that away…” He only relaxed when it was once more out of sight. “I was wondering if you would be willing to submit to a few blood tests. I would like to see just why you are able to handle that fang, when you should not be able to.”

“Of course, Healer Van Der Meulen,” Harry said trying to get his mouth around the unfamiliar name.

With a laugh the Healer waved away the apology he knew was coming. “Don't worry about it Lad, but you may call me Girret, much easier to pronounce. And thank you very much for allowing that, I just love a good puzzle.” Girret glanced once more at the file on the desk, this time to the last few pages, and then looked sadly at the teen. “I have been told there has been damaged done to your lungs. I would like to look at them myself, both the Wizarding way and the Muggle way.”

“That is why I'm here, Si--Um, Girret. I figured that the asthma medication may work to help me with my breathing.”

“We'll see young man, we shall see.”


~~hp~~hp~~hp~~

After leaving Harry's room, and the gazes of three disappointed adults, Draco slowly climbed the stairs to his room, and sat in the window seat that over looked the Quidditch pitch, not really seeing anything, as he thought about everything Harry had told him.

Hours later, he finally came back to himself, and realized that there was someone else in the room with him. Looking over he wasn't surprised all that surprised to see who his visitor was. Meeting those bright green eyes he smiled sadly. “I really screwed up, didn't I?” he asked softly.

“Yes Childe, you did,” Eve answered with an answering smile.

Heaving a sigh Draco carefully stretched his muscles before standing. “How do I make this up to him and Uncle Sev?”

“You try to see things from their point of view, and keep an open mind when it comes to Muggles and those who are Muggle-born.” Eve's voice hardened slightly as she glared at Draco. “You will need to apologize to both Harry and Severus, and then if you are honest in trying to be Harry's friend you will need to apologize to Hermione Granger as well,” she told him.

“I know. It's not going to be easy, but I'll try.”

“I'm not the one you need to tell this to,” Eve told him. “Harry's in his room resting. Your uncle has promised to let him out tomorrow if he behaves himself. Do try not to get him worked up again,” she said, before leaving Draco once more to his thoughts.

Draco stared after her for a moment, before he to stood and walked to the door. “No time like the present,” he said into the silence and closed the door carefully behind him.

~~hp~~hp~~hp~~


Harry looked up when he heard the soft knock on the door, and knew that it was Draco. Standing carefully, he walked over to the door and opened it standing so that the blond could not enter. “Can I help you Malfoy?” he said, and tendril of coldness in his voice, even as he watched those grey eyes.

Seeing and hearing the coldness coming from Harry sent a small pang of regret cursing through him. Swallowing against his fear, Draco met Harry's eyes and tried to show the Harry that he was being truthful. “I'm sorry Harry,” he said quietly, before dropping his eyes to the floor.

Sighing softly, Harry opened the door the rest of the way and stepped back, motioning for Draco to join him. Walking into the sitting room, he called Dobby and asked the house elf to bring tea for the two of them. “Sit down, Draco,” he told the blond, the coldness leaving his voice.

Feeling a small tendril of hope curling through him, Draco sat down, and gazed over at Harry. “I truly am sorry. I spent the last few hours thinking about what you said, and how I treated those around me, and realized that there are a lot of things that I need to do in order to be forgiven, but I am going to try.”

Harry smiled at the earnestness he heard in the blonde’s voice and nodded his head in acceptance. “It's alright, Draco, I know you will do your best. Just know that if you screw up over this again, you will be dealing with me, and I don't forgive as easily the second time.”

Draco gave another sigh of relief before smiling. “Deal,” he said. “Now, how did it go at the Healer’s?”

“It went exactly how I figured it would. I now have some medicine to help with my breathing while the potions Madam Pomfrey gave me do their job, but he cautioned that I may never actually be 100% again. I also have to follow everything she tells me to do, or Healer Van Der Meulen is going to admit me into the hospital so that he can personally see to it that I'm healing.”

“Sounds like a male version of Madam Pomfrey,” Draco laughed.

“Worse. Madam Pomfrey actually likes me, since I spend so much time with her. Even though he likes me, Healer Van Der Meulen doesn't know me, so will better be able to do what he said he would do.”

“Poor Harry,” Draco smirked, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up Blondie,” Harry pouted, also trying to hold back his laughter.

“Harry, Harry, Harry, what are we going to do with you?”

“Well, you could help me with my Potions homework. You see, I have this blond in my class who makes it really difficult to understand what's going on in class, and I could really use the help so that I understand what’s going on,” Harry replied with a smile.

“I would love to help you Harry. And if that blond every gives you a problem in class again, you have my permission to hex him.”

“Only in class?”

“Yes you prat, only in class. Any other time you're fair game.”

Both boys started to laugh once again, not realizing that the three adults in the manor once more watched. Backing slowly out of the room, they shared a glance and moved towards the study, small smiles playing around their mouths.