Lucius ate very little at dinner. Mostly he just tried to listen to Harry's engaging chatter, and Severus quizzing his wife about a shop. He had been invited to a game of chess by his old friend... old friend, indeed! How often had Severus taken on the wrath of the Dark Lord to spare Lucius? How often had Severus listened to Lucius' rants after a meeting? Lucius felt ill knowing that he had often taken the younger man's loyalty for granted, used him, in some cases even. It made him ill.

He downed the Calmitave Potion and then the sleep potion, called Lucid Dreams Potion. That potion would allow his dreams, but it would give Lucius a measure of control over the dreams. If he wanted to be in the dream, he could be, with just a mere thought. If he wanted to view the dream as one might view a pensieved memory, that, too, was a simple thought.

Lucius burrowed into the soft bed and pulled the covers up to his ears. He drifted into sleep rather quickly and found himself facing his memories in his dreams.

He could have concentrated on assimilating the pleasanter aspects of his past, but instead, he chose to tackle the worst of his memories: his years as a Death Eater.

Like Severus, Lucius had managed quite well in not taking part in the revels, those times when the Death Eaters were a pack of bullies that tormented Muggles, Muggle-born, and half-Muggles. Rarely did such revels devolve into torture and murder. When the revels became bloody, and neither Lucius, nor Severus could get themselves excused, they had made it their silent pact to put those, that they could, mercifully and quickly to death.

In those early years, those days when Abraxas still lived, his father's one, humane act, had been to persuade the Dark Lord to spare the children. Whether they were Muggles, or Muggleborn, they were not touched.

Only a few days after Abraxas' unfortunate death, a meeting had been called. Bellatrix Lestrange had arrived, a few minutes late. At her feet was a small, Muggle child, weeping and covered in blood. Both Severus and Lucius were repulsed at the blood spattered sheath that Bella wore, and both men had frozen at seeing the child, a small, blonde-haired boy.

Just as Voldemort was about to rebuke his filthy follower, Bella had summoned an object, an old book, that she sent gently to her lord and placed on the table before him. Bella's eyes glittered madly as the Dark Lord reviewed the pages that opened themselves to him.

"Severus." The Dark Lord crooked a slim finger to the young wizard who had not yet earned his Potions Mastery.

Lucius tried not to blanche as he saw what color there was, drain from his friend's face. Voldemort smiled tightly towards Bella. She fell gratefully to her knees.

"It is a legend, Master," Severus said with cool detachment. Only Lucius had noticed the nervous swallow. Voldemort had still been looking between the book and Bella.

"A legend is often based on fact," Bella declared. "Old McGonagall told us that!" She giggled madly.

Severus turned an icy black look upon the woman who had begun to dance around the weeping child. "My lord," he said softly and with great care, "There is no recipe in existence for Bathory's Blood..."

Voldemort's thin voice, taut with displeasure, cut across Severus' negativity. "As you are about to become the youngest Potions Master in the world, I am fully confidant you can find that recipe, or discover one yourself." His pale lips thinned out into a grimacing smile as he glanced towards Bella and the boy. "If Nott has kept from the boy, then we have no end of virginal blood, don't we, dear Bella?"

The Death Eater, Nott, fumed at the Dark Lord's insinuation, and found himself immediately writhing upon the floor from a Cruciatus Curse. Bella ignored Nott, and asked, "Do you wish to keep the boy, Master?"

Voldemort waved his hand as he closed the book and handed it to Severus. "Dispose of the boy, Lucius." Voldemort rose, moved around the table and stepped upon Nott's prone body. "Bella. With me." Voldemort disappeared through the arched door and a very pleased, almost puppy-like Bella followed him.

One by one the Death Eaters assembled left quickly. All of them ignored the broken child in their path. Severus swept over towards the boy the moment the last Death Eater was gone. Lucius was quickly at his friend's side. He knew the spells that Severus was casting; they were diagnostic spells.

With a silent plea, Lucius cast his grey eyes upon Severus. After the last of the spells had been cast, Severus sadly shook his head. Lucius dropped to his knees and drew the small boy into his arms.

"Lucius," hissed Severus. "We cannot stay! He might come back."

Lucius lifted the broken body into his arms and gently shushed the child's cries of pain. With a hand to the man's elbow, Severus quickly escorted Lucius out of Riddle Manor and to the Apparition Boundary. During the ten minute, rushed walk, Severus' heart beat rapidly as he worried that someone might have stayed behind, or that they would run into Bella, and she would witness the aristocratic pureblood softly singing a lullaby to the boy.

Once at the Boundary, Severus didn't hesitate in Apparating himself, Lucius, and the boy to a safe house. Once inside the small cabin, Severus collapsed into the nearest chair. Apparating three people, and one who was dying, had been a serious drain on his magic.

Lucius sat with the boy in another chair. He looked up at Severus. "There is nothing more you can do?"

"There is nothing to be done!" snapped Severus irritably. "I don't know of any Healers we can trust and my healing spells barely heal us after a revel!" Severus' fingers drummed angrily before he rose abruptly to his feet and withdrew a phial from his Death Eater robes. He handed the phial to Lucius. Lucius held up the phial and stared at the violent green substance within.

Lucius paled as he recognised the potion. "Severus! This is...!"

The Potions Master interrupted. His voice was low, and sharp as obsidian. "Give him all of it. He'll just..." Severus stared down at the boy, and at the child's blood that stained Lucius' Death Eater robes an even darker black. Placing a hand firmly upon his friend's shoulder, he took a deep breath, and finished his sentence. "He'll just go to sleep. Peacefully."

With that, the dark clad wizard vanished, with a flourish, into one of the bedrooms. The door snicked quietly shut behind Severus.

Lucius did give the child the potion, and the small, Muggle boy, slipped quickly into sleep, and then into the arms of Death.

With a heavily beating heart, and grief so strong within, that it was a physical pain, Lucius woke and stumbled from the unfamiliar bed. In trying to right himself, he fell against one of the bed posts, hard.

He did not hear the sharp pop. Dobby, an outline in the flame-lit shadows, gripped his floppy ears. "Is you hurt?"

Lucius turned, and in the faint light from the fireplace, recognition flashed, as well as unreasonable anger. The blonde wizard's hands went around Dobby's throat. The elf managed a sharp squeal before his breath was cut off.

Normally, Dobby would have divested himself of the stranglehold with his elf magic. However, he had taken an oath to protect all those within Fairwinds, and thus there was nothing he could do against Lucius. Dobby was quite resigned to death, if it must be so. After all, he had betrayed Lucius by taking the side of Harry Potter.

"LUCIUS!" Severus' thunderous voice caused the other wizard to let go of the house elf. Lucius tried to go for his wand, but neither it, nor his snake-headed cane anywhere within his sight.

Lucius collapsed, suddenly, as the anger left him rapidly. The grief he'd awakened with took him over, and he began to weep silent tears.

Severus knelt down beside his old friend, placing an arm over his trembling shoulders. "What is it, my friend?" He asked gently.

"The boy," he gasped. "He looked so much like Draco..." Lucius lifted his head. "Severus, I need to see Draco. Please!"

Severus felt Echo's hand against his back. "I'll get him. Stay here."

Albus Dumbledore was awakened by one of the castle elfs. He stirred, doing his best not to awaken his wife, Minerva McGonagall.

"Yes?"

"Is Madame Snape, Master Headmaster. Is needing to speak to you." The elf popped away before Albus could warn the little creature not to wake his wife.

Minerva stirred. "Albus? What's wrong?"

"I am about to go and see, my dear. Why don't you...?" Albus sighed as Minerva left the warmth of their bed and floated Albus' red dressing gown to him as she slipped into her green velvet dressing gown. Just as Albus had his gown belted, Minerva had her brown, white sprinkled hair, in a tight bun.

"Come along, Albus. We shouldn't keep Echo waiting." Albus followed Minerva out of their room and down into his office where the head of Echo was patiently waiting.

"Good evening, Echo!" Albus greeted warmly. "Is everything all right?"

"Could you send Draco to Fairwinds, Albus?" asked Echo bluntly. "Lucius is dealing with his memories and has asked for his son."

Minerva was already summoning an elf to gather up the seventh year Slytherin. The elf popped away, and Minerva replied. "Just give him about ten minutes, Echo."

"Thanks, Minerva!"

Minutes later a sleepy, and slightly cranky Slytherin appeared in the Headmaster's office. He tried to stifle a yawn. He'd been revising with Hermione, and a few other students until two hours ago.

"I'm very sorry to have disturbed your sleep, Mr. Malfoy," greeted the headmaster as he led the young man over to the Floo.

Staring at the Floo, Draco felt himself snap awake. "Is something wrong? Is Harry all right? Uncle Severus?"

Albus placed a calming hand upon Draco's shoulder. "They're fine. Madame Snape called. Your presence is required at Fairwinds."

"But, I've got a test in Transfiguration tomorrow!" Draco felt unreasonably stupid for bringing up the test. His curiosity smacked him, reminding him that he was needed for something more important than a test he could make up later.

With an apology to the headmaster, Draco was on his way through the Floo to Fairwinds. He gracefully stepped from the green flames and was met by Echo.

While ushering Draco up the stairs, Echo quickly summarized for the young man that Severus had released Lucius' memories and the wizard had awakened from a nightmare requesting to see his son. Thus, he was somewhat prepared as he entered the guestroom to see his father seated on the bed, his head bowed. Next to him was his godfather, who rose to his feet.

At Severus' movement Lucius raised his head. The glisten of fading tears sent Draco back to the only time he'd ever caught his father weeping. No longer feeling like the seventeen year old he was, he felt like the child he'd been.

"Daddy?" he whispered.

"Dragon!" gasped Lucius. He spread his arms wide and Draco was enveloped within that strong, protective embrace he'd not felt in a long time. He wrapped his arms around his father's waist and buried his head in the man's shoulder.

Down in their living room Severus tried to drink the tea he had made. He rarely made tea without the use of magic or by having Dobby make it. Tonight, the old ritual of making tea soothed him. It was something that his mother had taught him one stormy day and was one of his few happy memories from a childhood that had been no better than Harry Potter's had been.

Severus glanced over at Echo who was curled up with Harry. Harry had awakened while Echo had been talking to Albus, and he had gone to the guest bedroom. A glare from his father had sent him promptly back to his bedroom where he waited, nervously, until he couldn't stand the waiting any longer.

Harry's father and mother had just been leaving the guest room, when he emerged from his bedroom. Severus apologised for his stern look when he realised his son had been afraid for Lucius. He and Echo had then explained what had happened and that Draco had come at a summons from his father. An hour later Harry had fallen asleep next to his mother. Echo, too, had drifted off to sleep.

Forcing himself to drink his tea, Severus glanced upward as he wondered if Draco was all right.

Draco barely registered the closing of the guest room door as his godfather and godmother left. He held onto his father, partly in fear. He didn't want the embrace to end, but he was intensely curious as to what had frightened his father so.

"Father?" Draco asked softly after several, quiet minutes. He wanted to call his father 'daddy', but he hadn't been permitted to since he was five. His earlier outburst had been accidental.

Lucius took a deep breath and pulled back enough so that he could see into his son's eyes. He cupped his son's cheek, knowing that such blatant affection hadn't been imparted to Draco, by either parent, from the moment he began to learn how to be a society pureblood.

"I have no memory of ever telling you that I love you, Dragon," Lucius whispered with great regret.

Tears spilled from Draco's eyes as his heart broke, and then was repaired. To hear his father tell him that he loved him had always been what he'd most wanted.

"I've always wanted to hear you say that, but I think I've always known how you feel," he said. Lucius frowned in puzzlement.

Draco reached beneath his shirt for the small amulet he always carried with him. At one time, it had been a portkey created by his father that would take him to his godfather if he was in danger. Lucius, also painfully cognizant of his temper, meant for Draco to also escape him, if needed.

Shyly, Draco held the amulet outward. Lucius touched the surface gently with his fingertip. The memory of making the amulet, imbuing it with magic, and then giving it to his small son was bittersweet.

"It doesn't work anymore," Draco's voice had dropped back to a whisper in the semi-darkness. "I used to believe it had stopped working when I thought you were dead. Now... now I think it might have stopped because I no longer needed it."

Lucius smiled. He then shifted into a more comfortable position with Draco at his side. They no longer held each other, but the feeling of that comfort was still with them both.

"There is so much I wish to apologise to you for, Dragon. So many regrets I have... when I woke I was terrified that the Death Eater in me had pushed you so far away that I'd never know you again."

"Father," Draco began slowly, "there was a time when I had no idea how I felt about you. I would have been alone if it hadn't been for Uncle Severus. Sometimes... well, maybe a lot of the time..." he shrugged, knowing his father would understand that he had been an insufferable brat who often thought he knew better. "He'd tell me that what you did was to keep me safe. To keep Vold... the Dark Lord from taking me."

Draco had never quite known what Severus had meant when telling him that Voldemort wanted him. He'd always been afraid to ask. His imagination, when he let it go, conjured a nightmare, so he had never wished to know the truth.

Lucius felt a strong spark of protectiveness as he saw his son drop his head in shame at his 'confession'. He quickly cupped both hands on either side of his son's face and spoke vehemently, "Voldemort." He spoke the name firmly to show he no longer feared it, and that he would not punish his son for saying the name. "Voldemort knew that there was magic in you. Strong magic that he felt I could corrupt for him. Out of all the Death Eaters children, you were the one he wanted as his son. I would not give you to him!"

It was now the older man's turn to drop his head in shame, but it was only for a moment. His hands now gripping Draco's shoulders, his gaze connected with his son's.

"I was a shallow excuse for a wizard when my father forced me to take the Dark Mark, and contracted me to Narcissa." He regarded his son carefully before continuing. "Narcissa was a gift from Voldemort." Lucius looked away from his son. Draco wanted to ask a dozen question, but he kept quiet, allowing his father to finish.

"I know, when you asked us as a child how we met, and in a way it was the truth. I did know Narcissa at Hogwart's and I was smitten with her. She was... so beautiful..."

Briefly, Draco saw that at one time Lucius truly had loved his mother. Then the man's face hardened.

"Beauty is the power by which a woman charms a lover... and terrifies a husband. Such words were never truer not just with Narcissa, but her sister, Bella, as well. To my shame, I admit to you, my precious child, that I doubted whether or not you were mine." Lucius stretched out his hand and lightly drew his fingers through Draco's hair, and then caressed his cheek.

Draco shivered at the implication that he could have been the son of the maddest, most evil wizard to live.

"Please, father, tell me I wasn't!" Draco begged with a choked whisper.

Lucius rapidly shook his head and drew his son, for a moment, into his embrace.

"Your clever godfather and his potions proved beyond any doubt I had that you were mine. Innocent. Untainted by Voldemort." Lucius' voice faded as he drifted uneasily within his memories of his past. "I meant to keep you that way no matter what I had to do."

There was a long silence between the two wizards, and then Draco stated, "That wasn't what you dreamt of though, was it?" Lucius simply nodded. "The night I found you in your room. You were so upset and you held me for the longest time. I've never asked Uncle Severus what happened that night. Will you tell me?"

Lucius had never wanted his child to know of the darkness that was himself as a Death Eater. However, he did want Draco to know what had come of the Muggle boy's unfortunate death.

Draco listened stiffly as his father told him of the boy that his Aunt Bellatrix had brought to that meeting. Lucius kept the more gruesome details to himself and told his son only what he needed to know.

"When you ventured into my bedroom that night, and I held you so tightly, I realised that it wasn't enough to keep you safe, but that I had to save as many of the innocent that I could." He rose to pace for a moment, and then sat back down. "Severus and I already dealt mercifully with the adults, when we were able. We both knew that children, who'd been untouched before, would now suffer as the adults did. We did not want to end the lives of any children, yet there were times when we had no choice but to do so. In order to save those that we could, Severus created a potion that was easily administered by a simple scratch to the skin that feigned death."

"And you were able to save them?" Draco asked.

Lucius sighed heavily as he felt the twinge in his elbow that was damage from the Cruciatus Curse Voldemort liked to use upon his servants.

"We saved as many as we could, Dragon..." Lucius stroked his son's cheek and as he felt the fine stubble upon his son, now a young man, he felt the loss of those years. Time when he could not show his son the love he'd always felt for him. Drawing his son once more against his chest Lucius silently thanked Merlin for giving him this second chance.

Draco stayed at Fairwinds the rest of the night in his father's room on a couch Severus had transfigured into a narrow, but comfortable cot. Lucius' own magic was still bound; something Severus would sort out later. It would not do to have an emotional, fully powerful wizard in the house. The accidental magic could be deadly to all concerned.

In the morning, while Severus and his father had their coffee and silently read the Daily Prophet, Draco had gone to help his little brother get ready for primary school.

Draco found the little boy staring into his open wardrobe, apparently with indecision.

"Problem, Snapelet?"

Harry spun around and his face lit up with a large grin. "Draco!" He ran to the tall, young man and threw himself into his brother's arms. "Will you come to school with me today? Please?"

"I wish I could, Harry, but I have to get back to schoo..."

"Pleeeeaaassseeee?" Harry begged.

Draco frowned. "What's wrong?"

Harry took a breath and then blurted out, "Sarah's a bully and she's going to school now and Miss Molly didn't understand that she broke my quill on purpose and that she pinched everyone and she wanted my journal and when I said no that's when she..." Harry ran out of breath at that point.

"Merlin's beard, Harry! Take several breaths." He smiled as the little boy leaned against him as he took in calming breaths. "Does your dad know about Sarah?"

Draco recalled the girl; one of a pair of twins that Percy Weasley had adopted. He'd had the displeasure meeting the little bully at Christmas and didn't care all that much for her attitude towards his brother.

"Yeah. Dad knows. He let me stay home from school yesterday so he could talk to Miss Molly about Sarah."

Draco smirked in amusement. His godfather was going soft if he'd let Harry stay home from school!

"How about if I take you to school today?" Harry smiled hopefully. "But I can only stay a half-hour, Snapelet. That's all the time I have before my first class starts." Draco didn't give Harry a chance to protest as he walked him over to the wardrobe and began picking out clothes for his brother to wear.

In just a few minutes Harry was neatly dressed. Draco had the little boy facing the mirror in the bathroom while he carefully drew a comb through the silken strands the just brushed his shoulders and curled up lazily at the ends.

"Does your hair get oily when you brew potions with your dad?" asked Draco as he scrutinised Harry over the boy's head and at the mirror.

Harry nodded. "Dad said he didn't much pay attention to his hair until mum complained about it. She found us some Muggle shampoo that worked pretty well." He grinned. "Dad improved it, though."

Draco smiled. "He's good at that, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Harry! Draco!" came Severus' shouting voice from the base of the stairs.

Draco dropped the comb, gave Harry a quick once over, and then urged the boy to be on his way out of the bathroom, his room, and then down the stairs. Draco was right behind his little brother.

At the bottom of the stairs, Harry dove into his father's arms and was treated to a rare back and forth swing before he was settled on his feet. Draco, catching his own father's eye as he was leaving the dining room, automatically slid into the persona of "proud son of Nobel Lucius Malfoy" he'd long ago been taught to play in public. Severus caught the change and frowned at the young wizard.

Lucius was all too aware of what had happened in that brief moment when his son had caught his eye. The elder Malfoy had felt, very strongly, his old personality exerting itself. This was the man that expected such great things from his heir, who believed that what one looked like to the general public, was important.

Visibly shaking off that much disliked part of himself, Lucius remembered holding his 'baby son' after he was born, and last night as they comforted each other. He held out his arms open to Draco. The young heir's facade faltered, and then Draco, the one loved by Hermione and adored by Harry, broke through. He embraced his father, leaning his head against the flannel shirt that would never have been part of the old Lucius' wardrobe.