Once inside Prince Hall, Severus whisked Draco up the two flights of stairs to his room, calling for Norie to send for Madame Pomfrey, while Harry headed for his own room. He went over to his wardrobe, took out a brown jumper with a golden snitch embroidered on the front, and tugged it over his head. He wrapped his arms across his chest, although he wasn't really cold anymore, not now that he was inside and with the warm heavy jumper on.

He looked uncertainly at the door and the corridor beyond. Part of him wanted to go up to the top floor, to be with Severus and to see how Draco was. But part of him wanted to stay in his room and avoid it all.

He'd been doing a lot of that lately, hadn't he? Avoiding things, hiding away from everyone. It wasn't like him and Harry didn't like to think that he was being such a coward. But he was so tired of having to face people and deal with things. All his life he'd had to face hostility and ridicule, and he was just so tired of it. He was tired of being strong and brave, and now more than ever, he just didn't think he could do it anymore.

He wasn't the same person anymore, anyway, no matter what Severus said. He was just a slave.

But the instant that thought crossed his mind, another, even stronger one, came...the memory of his father holding Harry's hand between his own, studying him intently with black eyes soft with emotion; his father's voice, warm with concern and strong with conviction.

You are my son.

How many times had Severus told him that, Harry wondered suddenly? How many times had Severus tried to convince him that he was a valuable, worthwhile person...a unique and wonderful person?

Of course he wasn't wonderful and special like Severus said, but there were people who loved him...his father, Hermione, Ron, his other friends, maybe even Dumbledore. They loved him, no matter that he was a slave. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't completely worthless, even if the Dursleys had hated him, even if he was a slave.

Because in spite of all that, he was loved.

He was loved, and he was Severus' son, and he was home. And even if he wasn't ready to face the world, he wasn't going to be afraid to face anyone in his own home, not ever again.

Harry lifted his chin and walked out of his room, heading upstairs to the little room where Draco Malfoy was staying.

There was no one to face though. The other boy was still unconscious, lying on the bed, pale and still with his eyes closed. Severus and Madame Pomfrey were there, standing beside the bed, with their backs to the corridor. Harry went to stand quietly beside his father. Severus glanced at him as he came in and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry wanted to ask about Draco's condition, but Madame Pomfrey was still going through healing spells, frowning in concentration, so he thought that he should probably stay quiet and not interrupt.

Finally she straightened and turned to look at Severus and Harry.

"Draco should make a full recovery, but he lost a critical amount of blood and will need to take replenishers for a few days. He had a very close call. Do you know what happened? How was he injured so badly?"

Severus was quiet for a moment before answering, "Somehow he cut himself on pruning shears while working in the garden. Harry was flying and saw him lying on the ground."

Madame Pomfrey was quiet as well. She and Severus shared a long look. Then she cleared her throat and said briskly, "He'll need a dose of blood-replenisher every six hours for the next two days. I want him on bed rest until then, and you may need to limit his physical activities for another week or so afterwards as well."

Severus nodded. He patted Harry's shoulder and then moved to accompany the medi-witch as she stepped towards the fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts.

"I'll be back tomorrow." Madame Pomfrey glanced Harry's way. "Harry, your father told me how you saved Draco. You did well, dear."

"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Harry murmured.

He watched as the medi-witch left and then looked back at Draco. The other boy was as white as the sheets on the bed he lay on, and he looked uncharacteristically young and vulnerable. Harry abruptly turned away, feeling unsettled again.

Severus sighed and came back to the bedside. "Harry, I think I ought to sit with Draco until he wakes up. I think I need to talk with him."

His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, almost as if he were asking for Harry's approval, which seemed a little odd, but then again Harry knew that his father wanted to be certain to put his own son's needs first. But it was all right. Harry understood that someone needed to talk with Draco and Severus probably was the best choice. He didn't entirely like that, but he understood and he trusted Severus' love for him.

He nodded. "All right." He bit his lip. "Dad, do you think it was really an accident?"

"I don't know," Severus replied. "That is one of the things I need to ask Draco."

"If it wasn't an accident," Harry said slowly, "If he did this to himself on purpose, what will happen to him then?"

Severus shook his head. "Let's worry about first things first, shall we? Draco needs to heal and regain his strength before we make any decisions. And it might have been an accident after all."

They were quiet for a few moments. Harry couldn't decide whether to stay with Severus or leave. He wanted to be with his father, but he didn't really want to sit with Draco. He was still trying to make up his mind when the other boy moaned softly and stirred, moving his arms feebly.

Harry glanced at his father and decided that he would let Severus speak with Draco in private. He was no longer afraid to face Draco, but he didn't exactly want to talk with him either.

"I think I'll work some more on my Transfiguration essay, all right, Dad?"

"Of course," Severus agreed. "Harry, I might not be at dinner tonight so you may wish to eat in your room or with Norie and Zan."

Harry refrained from sighing. He would be understanding about the fact that his father needed to talk with Draco, to figure out if the other boy were suicidal and to decide what would be the best course of action to take now. Of course all of that would take some time. It wasn't a conversation that could be rushed.

And if Draco was that disturbed, perhaps he could be sent somewhere else and Harry could have his home all to himself again.

Except that there wasn't any other place to send Draco, was there? Just Azkaban and Harry truly didn't want him to have to go there.

He did sigh then.

Severus looked at him quickly and reached to squeeze his shoulder again. "I'll come and talk with you later. Perhaps you could show me how to play that Muggle card game that Hermione was teaching you the other night."

Harry nodded. "You're on." He raised his eyebrow at Severus. "You called her ‘Hermione'."

Severus' lips quirked. "Merlin help me, I'm being corrupted by Gryffindors."

Harry grinned at him as he left the room.

***

Harry set his quill down and re-read the final paragraph of his essay. He frowned thoughtfully, biting his lip, and then picked the quill up again and added another couple of sentences. There, that was better. Severus said he had a tendency to rush his conclusions...probably because he was in a hurry to get the work finished and move on to something else...so Harry had been trying to take a little more care with that lately. But he thought he'd done a decent job with this essay on the steps of Animagi transformations, if he did say so himself.

The clock on the wall chimed softly, reminding him that it was time for dinner. Harry considered whether to ask for a tray in his room but quickly rejected that idea. He would rather go down and eat in the kitchen with Norie and Zan.

The elves were still preparing dinner; a ham with baked potatoes and a mix of vegetables. Harry joined in, setting out plates and silverware and table napkins.

"Oh, no, Master Harry," Norie protested. "Zan and I can get that. You just have a seat and everything will be ready in a second."

"It's all right, Norie," Harry told her. "I don't mind helping."

"But..." she still looked unhappy.

"Really, Norie, I want to help. You and Zan do so much for me. You always have, from the very beginning, and I don't know if I ever even thanked you," Harry added, smiling at her.

"We were happy to help, Master Harry," Zan said.

"I know, and I'm happy to help you, too." Harry got glasses for the drinks. "There, is that it?"

While Norie poured glasses of water and butterbeer, Zan prepared a couple of plates and set them trays. "I don't know if Master Draco is able to eat properly, but Master Severus didn't tell us of any special requirements so I suppose this is all right."

He snapped his fingers and the trays vanished, presumably re-appearing upstairs. Then he, Norie, and Harry sat down at the kitchen table to have their own dinner, though Norie fretted over Harry sitting in the kitchen with them.

"Are you certain you don't want to sit upstairs in the dining room, Master Harry?" She kept asking.

"Will you and Zan come too?" Harry wanted to know.

"Oh, Master Harry, you know we don't like to do that," she scolded.

"You did for my birthday."

"But that was a special occasion," Norie protested.

"Then I want to sit down here with you," Harry said. "It's no fun to eat by yourself."

So they settled down to eat, but before they had had more than a few bites green flames flared in the fireplace and they heard Ron's voice calling.

"Hello? Harry? Is anyone there?"

Harry jumped up and hurried over to kneel by the hearth. "Hey, Ron, I'm here. Is everything all right?"

Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared above the flames. Ron had a black tri-cornered pirate's hat perched atop his head and a patch covering one eye, while Hermione wore a delicate golden crown and had her hair fixed in a braided coronet.

"Oh yes, we're all right," Hermione spoke first. "But we were concerned for you, with today being Halloween and all."

Harry smiled at them. "I'm okay, guys. So you're going to the masquerade party then?"

"Well, yeah, we thought we would," Ron replied.

"I hope you don't mind?" Hermione asked, slightly anxiously.

"Course not," Harry told them. "I'm glad you're going. I always felt bad that you guys missed out on the fun."

"You know we always wanted to stay with you," Ron said firmly. "We never minded that."

They all were quiet for a moment; then Harry cleared his throat. "Well, obviously Ron is a pirate. What are you, Hermione, a princess?"

"Not just any princess. I'm Elora," she explained.

When Harry just stared blankly, she sighed. "The ancient Greek princess who was a famous Transfiguration genius."

"Don't worry, I didn't know who she was either," Ron remarked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. She discovered many of the fundamental principles of Transfiguration. We learned about her in History of Magic. What were the two of you doing?"

"Probably sleeping," Harry admitted wryly.

"You know I'm no use without my mid-afternoon nap," Ron grinned.

"I didn't know you were much use even with it," Hermione retorted.

"Ouch. Hermione, you wound me." Ron feigned hurt feelings. "Pity me, Harry. She's a cold woman."

Hermione just rolled her eyes again and shook her head. But then she grew serious and gazed at Harry intently. "You're really all right, Harry?"

"I'm fine." Harry hesitated and then lowered his voice slightly. "I'm not sure Malfoy is, though."

"Why? What happened?" Ron and Hermione spoke together.

So Harry told them of the afternoon's events and how Draco had been injured so badly in the garden.

"And you think he might have done that to himself?" Hermione questioned, looking horrified.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Dad's talking with him now, trying to find out."

"How do you feel about it?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"I don't know," Harry repeated with a sigh. It was true. It was rather like the time, several weeks ago now, when he had heard Draco sobbing and telling Dumbledore and Severus how he had been hurt by Death Eaters and how they had killed his mother. Harry couldn't bring himself to forgive the other boy. Draco had enslaved him, and told the newspapers, and he didn't even feel any remorse. How could you forgive someone if they weren't even sorry for what they'd done? And Harry was so angry and hurt, he wasn't sure he would forgive Draco even if the other boy did apologise.

But Harry also couldn't help but feel a little sympathetic. He would never wish such horrible experiences on anyone, even someone he considered an enemy. And Harry knew what it was like to be miserable and desperate and all alone. He knew what it was like to feel that death was a better choice than life. He wouldn't wish that on anyone either.

So now he just didn't know how he felt about Draco Malfoy or what he wanted to happen.

So he just shrugged again.

"Well, I don't want him to die or anything, but he's still a slimy git," Ron said angrily. "He hasn't even really been punished for what he's done to Harry. So he's had to do a few chores for a couple weeks. Big deal! And he's such a coward he can't even face up to that. I just can't feel that sorry for him."

"Maybe coming here and working isn't so bad, but Dolohov and Greyback tortured him and killed his mother," Harry said quietly. "That was really terrible."

Ron studied him. "You're not feeling sorry for him, are you?"

"No...I don't know. I'm just saying that that must have been horrible," Harry muttered.

"Well, the Malfoys brought that on themselves, if you ask me," Ron said.

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads.

"Not even Draco deserved that," Harry said. "He may be rotten, but he's just a kid like us. He didn't deserve that.'

Hermione added. "Lucius Malfoy is the one who joined Voldemort and got their family involved with all of that, not Draco, maybe not even Narcissa. And I don't think anyone deserves to be tortured, especially if they're only sixteen."

"I know you're both right. I mean, I'm not happy the slimy little git was tortured, or anything awful like that," Ron replied. "But I just can't help being angry. Look what he did to Harry, and he's not even sorry."

They were all quiet again for a moment and then Ron spoke again, sounding a little awkward.

"Hey, Harry, I know it's got to be rough for you, having Malfoy there and all. I didn't mean to upset you or anything. The whole reason we called was to make sure you were all right."

"I am all right, and thanks, both of you," Harry said firmly. "Don't worry about me. Just have fun at the party and I want to hear all about it tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Ron grinned. "Later, me heartie. Yo ho ho, and all that."

"I don't think pirates really spoke like that," Hermione pointed out, but Ron had already disappeared.

She turned her attention back to Harry. "Well, I suppose we'd better get going."

"Have fun. I'll see you tomorrow," Harry responded.

Hermione's head vanished and the green flames below died down. Harry stood up and went back to the table to finish his dinner.

***

Severus watched as Draco softly moaned and stirred. He couldn't help but hope that the boy would fall back into unconsciousness for a time; Severus didn't feel ready to speak with him. The truth was that Severus still had not managed to figure out his own complicated emotions towards Draco and today's incident was only making things even more tumultuous. He felt alternately torn between sympathy and anger. It almost reminded him of how he had felt back in the summer when his relationship with Harry had first begun to change.

But this was even worse, Severus thought. It had been difficult to let go of his misconceptions and to accept that he had been wrong about Harry. But his resentment towards Harry had been based on his delusions and his old grudge against James Potter. Once Severus had been able to see his mistakes and had gotten to know the real Harry, he couldn't help but care for him.

With Draco, things were more complex. He couldn't help feeling sorry for Draco, for what the boy had suffered, but Draco had hurt his Harry. Severus had always found it difficult enough to forgive someone for hurting him...but forgiving someone who had hurt his beloved son was near impossible.

But Draco was young. He had suffered more than any child ought to have, and Severus was having more doubts than ever about the current situation. Did Draco need more punishment? Perhaps, but he also needed some counseling, someone to act as a mentor, someone who could be firm if necessary, but who could also show compassion.

And Severus did not think that he could be the person that Draco needed, not when his first loyalty was to his own son and his own emotions were so unsettled.

But someone was going to have to talk with the boy when he woke and right now Severus was the only candidate. So he had hoped that Draco would stay asleep at least a little longer, until he felt better prepared. But no, Draco's silver eyes blinked and then opened, staring uncertainly about the room before resting on Severus' face, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and apprehension.

Severus gave a mental sigh and tried to pull himself together. The moment was upon him, ready or not, and he would just have to do the best that he could.

"Draco, how do you feel? Are you in pain?" He asked, keeping his voice quiet but level.

Draco hesitated before giving his head a slight shake. Then he lay back against his pillow as if he were exhausted.

"If you are uncomfortable, Madame Pomfrey said you could have another dose of pain-killers," Severus continued.

"I'm all right," Draco mumbled. He glanced about the room again. "What hap...oh."

"I take it you recall being injured."

"Yes, sir." Draco glanced down and gingerly rested a hand on his chest.

"What happened?" He repeated. "I remember getting hurt with the shears, but then everything went black."

"Harry was flying and noticed that you were injured," Severus told him. "He landed and rushed to your side. He sent for me and slowed the bleeding by holding his own jumper to your wounds. I managed to stop the bleeding completely and to close the cuts. We brought you inside and sent for Madame Pomfrey who completed the healing task."

Draco looked up at him. "Thank you, sir."

There was an odd tone in the boy's voice and a look in his eyes...uncertain and beseeching. It made Severus uncomfortable and he almost wished his godson would resort to his cool aloof façade again. But that wasn't healthy for him, Severus knew.

He cleared his throat. "You're welcome, but you really need to thank Harry. He likely saved your life."

Draco looked away with a grimace and didn't respond. They were silent for a few moments and then Severus asked the question that he knew had to be asked.

"Did you deliberately injure yourself, Draco?"

Draco stiffened. "Of course not. I tripped and fell."

But he refused to meet Severus' eyes and his hands had clenched tightly into fists.

Severus sighed. "Draco, harming yourself is not the solution to your problems."

"I didn't! It was an accident!"

Severus studied him in silence while Draco resolutely stared at the wall. He sighed again, feeling completely out of his depth. When Harry had been suicidal, Severus had held him and let him cry and comforted him. But by that point he had already grown to love Harry.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Draco now. It really was most unfair of Albus to have put them all in this position and Severus decided that he was going to speak with the headmaster later tonight, even if it would be late when the Halloween festivities were over. Albus needed to know how distraught Draco was, and they were going to have to figure out some way for the boy to get the counseling he needed. But Severus simply could not handle trying to make these decisions on his own, not when he himself was so conflicted. Yes, he thought, it was high time for Albus to take more of a hand in matters.

"Very well," Severus said finally. "Madame Pomfrey said that you will make a full recovery, but that you need to rest for a few days. You need to stay in bed for now. Naturally you are excused from your chores for the time being. If you feel up to studying during the day, then I will come up here to work with you, but you are not to overexert yourself. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded silently.

A clock chimed and as if on cue, two plates of food and two glasses, one of wine and one of butterbeer, appeared on trays.

"Ah, dinner is ready." Severus set the tray with the glass of butterbeer before Draco and then took the other for himself. He settled back in his chair and they began to eat. Or rather, Severus ate and Draco distractedly picked at his food.

Neither of them spoke again until they had finished and Severus had sent the trays back downstairs to the kitchen. Then he stood and asked, "Do you need anything else?"

He had expected Draco to decline and he was shocked speechless when the boy swallowed hard and then looked up at him, his chin lifted defensively.

"Yes, sir. If he'll see me, I need to speak with Pot...with Harry."