Epitome of a Soldier - What it is to be Necessary

Hi everyone :)

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and who reviewed the last chapter :) I'm glad everyone's enjoying everything so far.
As always, if you review, I reply ^_^

Tesgura
Yeah, Harry's feelings are there, he's just not entirely sure what to do with them at this time. Remus and Sirius play a bigger part in "What It Is To Be Necessary" so you have a few more chapters before they come into it again.

thrnbrooke
Wow, you really are addicted; you get one hit and you immediately need another XD

Judy Bisbee
I'm glad you liked it ^_^

snappy pants
Dancing with Voldie? Interesting mental imagage XD

Kati-chan
Glad to hear it :)
Remus and Sirius will have a larger part to play in the next part "What it is to be Necessary" so they won't be seen again until the end of this "Epitome of a Soldier".

kunf_you_z-ed
Yeah, Harry's getting there. I like to think Draco's little rant at him unlocked something in his brain XD

Kuromei
You're right, I'm not going to answer that question because, yeah, you'll find out eventually XD *hugs Kuromei-chan*

frozenrose
Apologies, but I really don't have the time to e-mail people when updates come out. However, I can promise you that I always update every five days like clockwork ^_^

SP777
Ah, a careful reader. I'm much the same on the rare occassion a fic catches my eye; I wait until there are a decent amount of chapters before I take the chance and start to read.
Hermione and Ron come into What it is to be Necessary. So no, in this first section, there's no Hermione and Ron.

Right, I'm done for now, on with the story.

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When Snape woke the next morning, he was rather astonished about just how well he felt. After Draco had basically told the Dark Lord off for not planning to save Lucius from receiving the Kiss, both he and the young Malfoy had been punished with several rounds of the Cruciatus curse. Thankfully, they were dismissed almost straight after the Dark Lord was through with them which meant he didn't have to hold onto his consciousness for that much longer. The moment he had been allowed to go, he had picked up Draco, who had passed out sometime during the torture, activated their Portkey back to the cottage and got them through the front door before promptly passing out.

He had fully expected to wake up where he had passed out on the floor, suffering from the stiff, aching body and the pounding headache which usually went hand-in-hand with being put under the Cruciatus for any length of time. But, instead, he was greeted with a soft sofa, a warm blanket, no headache and no pain or stiffness at all. How was it possible though? It couldn't have been Draco; not only had the boy been out cold but he wasn't strong enough to get a fully grown man such as himself from the front door and up onto the sofa even if he hadn't been suffering from the same effects he had.

A groan from the blond in question pulled the man from his thoughts and he looked over to see the young aristocrat stirring. Draco yawned and stretched before sitting up, moving his legs over the side of the sofa and rubbing his eyes to clear the sleep away no doubt. "Did you stuff me full of potions or was last night just a dream?"

"Neither." Snape answered, also sitting up. "I don't know why we're both in such fine health after last night's events."

Draco frowned lightly at that before sniffing the air delicately. "Are you cooking breakfast?"

"Do I look as though I have left this sofa yet?"

"Well no, but I smell bacon, and if you're not cooking it, who is?" The young man inquired.

The two Slytherins shared a look which seemed to ask a silent question. Then, together, they both stood and hurried to the kitchen door. Low and behold, there, standing in front of the cooker, was Harry Potter.

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Cooking, Harry was finding, could be quite pleasurable. He'd never done it before (though he knew how it was basically all done having watched people in his dreams do it), always either eating something Snape had cooked for him or eating things raw like fruit. It had always seemed like such chore to him when there were things which could be eaten with little or no preparation so he had never tried, but now he had, he admitted he could see why some people could do it for a living or a hobby. Of course, when you got burnt it wasn't much fun as he had discovered. Over the course of the night, the pain receptors in his nerves must have finally woken up because when a spit of hot oil from the bacon splashed his arm, it hurt a hell of a lot more than it had when the cup had practically burnt his hand off, which was now rather sore and stiff as well.

He had woken in the arm chair in the study early that morning and, after a bit more reading, had decided that he was hungry. So, he headed out to the kitchen, intending on merely grabbing some fruit to satisfy himself with. Of course, he had to go through the living room to get to the kitchen and that was when he saw the two sleeping men on the sofas, exactly where he had left them the night before. It occurred to him that they would both probably be hungry when they woke up and in no state to make something for themselves, so with little to no thought, his plan had changed. No longer would he settle on fruit. Instead, he'd cook something and make something for the two Slytherins as he did so. It was only when he actually began to cook that he questioned why he was doing it and no matter how long he thought about it, he couldn't answer himself, something which was becoming disturbingly common.

Harry became aware of the presences of Malfoy and Snape the moment they reached the entrance to the kitchen, they weren't being particularly quiet after all. He chose to ignore them though. If they wanted to question him then they could but he wasn't going to volunteer answers if only because he wouldn't be able to explain them. However, when a few minutes had passed and still they had said nothing, he found he had to say something as the bacon was ready and the microwave had just sounded to alert him to the fact that the scrambled eggs were cooked as well.

"Good morning." He greeted them quietly, the words sounding foreign to him; it was the first time he had ever said them. Words of greeting. They seemed so unnecessary, merely a delay in the conveying of information and yet, somehow, they did serve a purpose.

"Um...Morning." Malfoy replied, sounding unsure of the situation.

"You should sit down." Harry instructed them as he used some metal tongs to remove the six rashers of bacon from under the grill and set them on three plates, two on each. As he went over to the microwave to retrieve the eggs, he heard the sound of the two men walking further into the room, pulling out the chairs of the kitchen table and then scooting forward into position. "I have located another Horcrux; Riddle's diary has made its way into a bookstore in Knockturn Alley." He said, mostly to Snape as he broke up the cooked egg in the bowl and then dished some out onto each plate. "I shall retrieve it tonight."

"I've been trying to pin-point its current location for years; how did you find it?" Snape enquired as Harry took the pieces of toast from the toaster and placed those and some already cooked slices on each plate.

"I have my methods." Was all the dark haired youth replied as he picked up the plates meant for the two Death Eaters and brought them over to the table, placing them in front of the two Slytherins both in turn. Once he had set them down, he turned and went back to his own plate, the sound of metal cutlery on porcelain immediately starting behind him. He had fully intended on taking it back to the study and cloistering himself away again but a small part of him stopped himself from doing that and, eventually, it made him ask: "For what reason were you both punished last night?"

The sounds behind him stopped and for a moment there was complete silence. Then, quietly, Snape replied. "Draco spoke out of line while in the presence of the Dark Lord."

"I see." Was the only reply Harry gave to that before he picked up his plate and cutlery and turned, heading straight for the doorway.

"Potter." Snape called after him and, for some weird reason unknown to him, Harry stopped as he was supposed to. "Why do you ask?"

Harry remained silent for a long while after that question was voiced. Why did he ask? He hadn't intended to ask, it wasn't necessary information after all, it was irrelavent to his search for the Horcruxes. But he had felt compelled to enquire for some reason. Was it for the same reason he had helped the two Death Eaters the night before when they had been quite clearly injured? Was it for the same reason he had felt that strange feeling when he had watched them go to the meeting, knowing they could get hurt? And if it was all because of that one reason, what was it? Why was he suddenly acting in this strange manner?

"I do not know." The stoic young man finally replied in a voice which was barely above a whisper but could easily be heard in the silent kitchen, answering both Snape's and his own question. No comment was made in return to that and Harry bowed his head a little and closed his eyes for a second. "If you will excuse me." He requested, opening his eyes again. Without waiting for an answer, he left the kitchen and went straight to the study.

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With very little care, Harry searched through Draco's trunk full of his clothes, trying to find something casual that he could wear. Retrieving Riddle's diary wasn't going to be like getting the other Horcruxes. With the others, he'd been able to remain out of sight because he'd had to break in somewhere to get them; therefore he hadn't had to consider what clothes he was wearing. This time it was going to be different. The diary was actually in a shop, meaning he'd have to be seen (hence finding suitable clothing) and also meaning that he'd have to interact with at least one other person (the shop keeper) and it was that last bit which had Harry thinking.

Harry knew he wasn't normal and he knew he acted no where near what could be called normal, even without Draco telling him that was the case and saying he was dead inside. He was trying to work on his behaviour, he really was, but it was all so new and difficult and, dare he say it, frightening. People were hard to figure out. There was no way to tell what they were thinking or planning on doing next and that un-nerved him. Before, it had been all right. Before he had watched everything safely from the side and hadn't taken part in anything. With Snape and Malfoy it was manageable because they were hardly the most sociable people in the world (well, at least Snape wasn't) and, to an extent, they both followed fairly predictable behaviour patterns. Going out into the wide world and interacting with complete strangers who he hadn't had a chance to study at all, his behaviour was going to attract attention and that was the last thing he wanted because that was going to create a chance for Voldemort to find out about him.

As far as Harry knew (from what Snape had told him), Voldemort was none the wiser to his existence. As far as the Dark Lord was concerned, Harry Potter had died along with his parents on that Hallowe'en night. That gave Harry and the Light the advantage; he could run around doing his business without having to be aware of the fact that Death Eaters might come marching along at any moment and cause a problem. If Voldemort did find out about him and what he was doing, things would become a lot harder and happen a lot slower and that was something the Light just couldn't afford.

A knock suddenly sounded at the closed door of Draco's bedroom. Harry didn't bother to look up or even stop looking through the trunk, he just lifted his right hand and flicked it in the direction of the door. As it swung open slowly, he returned to looking through the trunk with both hands as whoever it was that knocked entered the bedroom. "Have you found anything suitable?" It was Snape's voice which spoke.

"The majority is too refined and would attract unwanted attention." Harry replied, pausing in his search to hold up a plain, white cotton shirt he had just found. "There are some items which are suitable however." He murmured before going back to looking through the trunk.

"Why don't you try transfiguring it into something more suitable?" The man suggested, remaining in his position by the open bedroom door.

"That may prove to be unnecessary." Was the only reply that got before a short period of silence took them over. Then, when a few minutes had passed and still Snape was standing at the doorway watching Harry, the dark haired teenager voiced something which had been on his mind since he had entered the bedroom and started his search. "Draco Malfoy was not present when I entered this room."

"He's in one of the spare bedrooms; thinking, no doubt." Snape revealed, knowing that the statement was actually a question of where the blond was.

"Thinking of what?"

"His father, Lucius; he receives the Kiss this evening."

Harry stopped his movements then and remained silent for a considerable length of time. Thoughts swirled around his mind, challenging everything he had been told in his dreams and through the influence of Dumbledore to believe in all his life. For a Death Eater to receive the Kiss was justice and justice was the most pure and beautiful thing in creation. Yet what about the families left behind because of justice? What about their pain? Their lives? Was there justice in the ruining of a family just because of one person's fault? Should a life be taken in compensation for another life? Was there justice in death?

Slowly, Harry's eyes flickered from staring down at his knees to looking back into the trunk. He brought his arms back up to it and brought out the first pair of trousers he was able to get his hands on. "These will be sufficient." He said before standing with them and the white shirt he had pulled out before. They probably did look a bit too expensive and would draw some attention to him but he just wanted to get on with retrieving the Horcrux so he could focus on that instead of questioning everything he had ever known.

"I will leave you to change then." Snape said as he turned and began to leave. "You will be Apparating from here?"

"Yes." Harry replied, already pulling free the few buttons which held the collar of the black robe he was currently wearing to his neck.

"I will see you in the basement upon your return then." With that, the door to the bedroom slowly closed with a light click, signalling that Severus Snape had left the room.

Harry stripped and then dressed again quickly before grabbing a small wallet which rested on the dressing table and contained a fair amount of money to use to buy the diary with. He checked its contents over quickly before putting it in his pocket. Then, he went to Apparate but stopped upon hearing a sound. It was a faint sound and one he'd never heard before. He knew the word to describe it though; whimpering. It was definitely a whimpering he could hear which meant someone was crying.

Concentrating on the sound carefully, Harry followed it to the right-hand wall, the one the bed was pushed against. He stopped when he reached it and pressed his ear closer to the surface, trying to determine if the sound was actually coming from the adjacent room. Indeed, the sound did come, a little clearer now that he was closer to the source, and with a hitched sob came one word:

"Father."

Harry flinched away from the wall as though he had been stung once he had heard the one word. He stopped when he was about a foot away from the wall and although he could still hearing the crying, it wasn't as definite anymore and he definitely couldn't make out any actual words. The one crying was obviously Malfoy and that realisation made the dark haired youth's heart sting in a most unpleasant manner.

Draco Malfoy. Harry wasn't sure about the teenager who was but a month older than himself. Ever since the previous day, when the blond had punched him and said that they were now friends, he had been more respectful in a way. He had continued to bring Harry his meals but he had failed to use that as an excuse to linger behind and try to engage in conversation as he usually did. The odd attempt to start a conversation had occurred during the day but only when it was painfully obvious that the saviour was not in the middle of anything. And, for some reason, Harry had not simply ignored the Malfoy.

For a long moment, the dark haired teenager simply stared at the wall, thinking over the events of that day before worrying and disturbing thoughts began to run through his head. He was considering...Merlin, he was actually considering going and...For someone, like him, who had been told their whole life that they were destined to do only one thing and then to go in a total opposite direction and go and...Could he really do it? Could he live with himself if he did it? Could he live with himself if he didn't? Would it even work? Was it worth the risk? Why did he want to do it? Why now? Why so suddenly?

Another soft sob floating through the wall and Harry suddenly knew. He knew what he had to do, he knew he didn't care about the consequences and he knew why he had to do it. And so he left. He Apparated away, though not to Knockturn Alley as he was supposed to.

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To spend any amount of time in Azkaban was depressing, to say the least. But to stay in Azkaban longer than you really expected to, that was far too depressing for words.

Lucius really hadn't been too worried when he had been sentenced to a term in Azkaban. He was the Dark Lord's right-hand man, surely he would be broken out because, well, he was indispensable. Without him the Death Eaters would be nothing. He'd done so much for the cause in all areas. He'd offered financial support, he'd done more than his fair share of raids and he had recruited more new members than any other Death Eater. All of that considered, the Dark Lord would surely retrieve him before the place got too tiresome.

But no one had come for him. The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months and then a year had passed by...And then the worst had happened; it had been declared that he was to be given the Kiss by one of the few remaining Dementors which were left. In only a few hours, his soul would be sucked out of him. Surely if he was going to be saved, it would have already happened by now. All his years of work and loyalty and this was his reward, a life as a souless shell.

If, through some twist of fate, he ever got the chance, Lucius swore that he would get his revenge somehow.

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Harry edged around a corner carefully, peeking around it to make sure no one was ahead of him before looking back over his shoulder to check no one was suddenly following him. He was thankful for the fact he had decided to go with soft-soled shoes as it meant he made very little noise when he moved and, considering where he was, making no noise was essential. Due to his slightly messy entrance when he first Apparated in, his clothes were dirtied with dust which helped him in blending in the his surroundings a bit more than he would have if everything was still clean and crisp as it was before.

This was the first time Harry had gone into something so blindly. He had no idea of what the layout of the area was, he had no idea where he was actually going and he only had a vague idea of the possible opponents that he was at risk of confronting. It wasn't ideal but he supposed when you just decided to do something on the spur of the moment, it was obviously going to happen. He didn't like it though and simply wanted to get in, get out and then get back to the safe house where things were familiar and he could go back to doing what he was supposed to be doing instead of...Personal errands.

Harry ran down another corridor which appeared to be exactly the same as the one before, the grey stone walls occasionally interrupted by thick, steel bars blocking off smaller rooms, most of which housed people sleeping in the corners, curled into themselves to try and keep warm no doubt. It was a sad sight but it was their own fault. These men and women were criminals and if they hadn't wanted such a fate, they would have remained honest. Despite the opinion, there was an exception in Harry's mind and it was based merely on who the man's son was. He still couldn't understand why he was actually risking so much to free a man who everyone knew was a Death Eater. To be honest, he had stopped asking himself; it was easier that way.

Finally, after what seemed like a terribly long time, Harry saw the long, white-ish hair of the man he was looking for. He glanced over his shoulder one last time to make sure there was still no on behind him before he hurried up to the cell. The man inside was in a corner (as everyone seemed to be), leaning back and to the side as well. His hair was tangled and had lost its beautiful colour, looking rather grey like everything else in the place did, and the prison robes he wore made him look far too thin. This was a perfect example of how this monstrous place could shatter even the proudest of men and Harry was unsure whether that was something to be pleased with or not.

Reaching the bars to the cell the man was in, Harry paused, bringing a hand to lightly hold one of the bars. "Lucius Malfoy?" He said in his usual monotoned voice.

The head of dirty, blond hair lifted and hard grey eyes settled on him. "Yes?" The voice was somewhat hoarse but it was still strong and held a biting edge to it.

"I am here to retrieve you." Harry said simply before turning his attention onto the lock on the cell door.

A few seconds of silence passed before Lucius Malfoy spoke again: "You're not a guard, you're too young, so who are you?"

Harry hesitated a moment before answering: "I am a companion of your son's."

"You're a friend of Draco's?" Lucius checked slightly desperately as he forced himself onto his feet. "How is he? Is he safe? And Narcissa, do you know..."

"Draco is well and remains in a safe house with myself and Professor Severus Snape. As for your wife I have had no contact with her." Harry answered dutifully while trying to concentrate on the lock to figure out what charms were used to secure it.

"Do you know if Draco's got the Mark yet?" The man asked as he came right up to the bars of the cell.

"If you would with-hold your questions for a moment so that I can unlock this door." Was Harry's only reply to that and, thankfully, the eldest Malfoy fell silent as he was asked.

As Harry was now fully able to concentrate, the door was simple to unlock it. With a mere jerk of his hand over the lock, there was the sound of snapping metal before the clunk of a lock sliding away came. Lucius wasted no time and grabbed the door, throwing it in front of himself. It swung open, Harry only just managing to step back in time to avoid getting himself hit in the face. The blond man stumbled out awkwardly and the dark haired teenager lurched forward just in time to steady him. As he did that though, the call from a near-by voice came:

"Oi, what are you doing in there?"

Someone was coming! Harry had to hurry otherwise they would both be caught and all of this would have been for nothing. He quickly adjusted his hold on Lucius, who was having trouble keeping on his feet apparently, into a better one which was easier for himself and probably more comfortable for the aristocrat as well. It also served to give Harry a better grip on the man which he would need for when they Apparated away which was going to have to be very soon if the approaching footsteps were anything to go by.

"Are you ready to leave?" He checked in a rather breathless, hurried tone; Lucius looked lighter than he actually was.

Before the Malfoy could reply however, two of the Auror guards which had been brought in after the majority of the Dementors had rebelled, rounded the corner and easily spotted them as they were in plain sight. Everything that happened then passed so fast that it was pretty much a blur for both of the escapees. Literally seconds before Harry managed to Apparate himself and Lucius away, one of the guards cast a spell at him or Lucius; either way, Harry was the one it hit.

A terrible, awful sensation shot through Harry's entire body, like the sensation he had felt earlier that day when he had burned his arm while making breakfast only so much worse. An unfamiliar, repulsive scent of something hot and metallic reached his nose as a tortured cry tore itself from his throat just as he and Lucius disappeared with a pop and continued on when they reappeared in the living room of the safe house he was sharing with the younger Malfoy and Snape. It was the most intense, horrible thing the teenager had ever felt and it drained him terribly. Just as he heard rushing footsteps on wooden boards, the sensation became too much and lost his hold on consciousness and reality.