Just For Now by MarieLewis

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J. K. Rowling

Mothers and Sons II

At a later point in time, Harry would never really be able to recall exactly what happened first, that day on Privet Drive. Perhaps it was his Shield Charm blocking Malfoy's half-hearted Cutting Curse, it could have been the loud 'cracks' that sounded when several Order members appeared in their midst, or maybe it was the rustling of the bushes as Mundungus Fletcher sprung from behind it.

"Get Potter!"

The world was chaotic around him, but Harry's mind was clear.

He rushed towards his relatives, pushing and shoving Death Eaters as he went, firing a spell or two when he could. Number Four was close, if he could just get them across the street and onto the lawn...

"Harry! Harry!"

Somebody grabbed his wand arm, and Harry swung his left fist with all his might, ready to crash it into his offenders jaw. He stopped short when he saw who it was pulling on him.

"Tonks?"

"You have to get to the house now! Move!" she yelled, slashing her wand at the death eater in front of them. The man's mask and hood fell off as he was blown back, revealing dark brown hair and a face that Harry could not recognize.

He tugged his arm out of Tonks' grip, "I can't, my relatives!" he shouted, all ready running away from her. He'd apologise to her later. He hoped.

Finally he spotted the Dursleys, but instead of the feeling of relief he had expected, dread swelled inside him instead.

Dudley was missing.

Harry knew Aunt Petunia sobbing, even though he still could not hear her. Uncle Vernon's mouth was opening and closing at a rapid rate, he was cursing, Harry was almost positive. Harry stepped forward, his throat was dry, and his hands shook horribly as he untied his aunt and uncle. Taking a deep, calming breath, he cancelled their silencing charm.

"Where's Dudley?" he asked immediately, barely registering that he was right about Uncle Vernon's swearing.

"They took him!" His aunt sobbed, "That dirty man with the blond hair! They took my Dudders!"

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT, BOY!" Uncle Vernon bellowed in his face, his fat fingers scrabbling to wring Harry's neck.

But Harry didn't have time for this, he needed to find Dudley... now. He pressed his wand into Uncle Vernon's throat, leaning forward menacingly. "If you want your son to live, I suggest you tell me which way they went," he hissed, eyes narrowed as he stared directly into his uncle's. "Now."

It was Aunt Petunia who answered him, Uncle Vernon, far to busy spluttering and turning puce.

"That way," she whimpered, pointing a shaky finger, Harry turned to look. She was pointing directly into the middle of the battle, and from where Harry sat he could see both Remus and Tonks dueling ferociously with three Death Eaters. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, but there was no sign of Voldemort, and more importantly, no sign of Dudley.

Harry tried not to think of what happened to his cousin, instead putting all his focus on getting his aunt and uncle out of the street and into their house. Then he'd come right back and search for Dudley.

"Come on."

Aunt Petunia stopped blubbering, "W-what?"

Harry didn't give her time to protest, "Come on! Move!" He hauled her up by the arm, prodding Uncle Vernon with his wand to get him moving as well. "We've got to get back to the house, it's the only place you'll be safe. Stay close by me. We're going to have to make a run for it." He tried not to send a skeptic look toward Uncle Vernon, who was already huffing and puffing from lifting himself of the asphalt.

"Ready," he said, mentally running through all the defensive spells he knew. "Now!"

Aunt Petunia and Harry took off, Uncle Vernon lumbering close behind them. The were a yard from Number Four, two feet, one... Harry breathed again.

Uncle Vernon stumbled to the front door, yanking it open and throwing himself across the threshold. Ridiculous, Harry thought, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. He glanced at Aunt Petunia, noting that her lips were pinched with worry, and her nose red from crying. He felt the need to reassure her.

"I'm going to find Dudley, get inside, keep quiet, and stay down."

Harry turned to go, but his aunt stopped him by laying a bony, long-fingered hand on his shoulder. He peered at her curiously, and to his utter surprise, she leaned forward and hugged him, wrapped her arms around his somewhat stiff back and pulled him to her. The blood from his forehead got on her shirt, but she didn't seem to mind. "Be careful, Harry," she whispered against the side of his head. Harry's eyes burned and his throat clogged up, "I will be," he whispered thickly, stepping away from her and towards the sidewalk. "I'll find him, Aunt Petunia. Go back inside." Harry turned away, breathing deeply, he'd find Dudley, and if it was Lucius Malfoy who had him...

Harry made his way into the thick of things.

"There you are, Potter. I'm afraid the Dark Lord has some unfinished business with you." A hand clamped down on his arm, yanking him around.

Antonin Dolohov raised his wand, an ugly sneer on his equally ugly face.

"Sectumsempra!"

The shout came from behind him, and when Dolohov's grip loosened, blood pouring from the man's forehead, Harry yanked his arm from Dolohov's grip, turning to thank his savior.

But no one was there.

No one that would have saved him at any rate, instead Harry saw the unmistakable form of his unconscious cousin being dragged along by none other than Lucius Malfoy. But Dudley wasn't the only one with Lucius, Draco Malfoy was being dragged as well, though from what Harry could see the other boy was fully awake.

Not bothering to think, Harry charged after the trio, already shouting the first spell that came to his mind, "FLIPENDO!"

Though his spell may not have been what one might use when fighting Death Eaters, it did the trick. Lucius flipped over, his robes and hair swinging in mid-air, before he crashed in a heap on the street, cracking his head on the side walk.

Harry dashed forward, completely disregarding Malfoy, who was was staring at his father in shock. He knelt by Dudley, checking him for injuries, it didn't appear as though Malfoy Sr. had had much of a chance to do anything.

"Ennerverate," he muttered waving his wand over Dudley's prone from. His cousin's eyes flickered open, he sat up suddenly, nearly plowing Harry over.

"You're fine, Dud, but we've got to get you back to the house. Your mum and dad are there already," he added, patting his cousin on the shoulder before he pulled his cousin to his feet.

Almost involuntarily, his eyes wandered to Malfoy. He was still standing there, staring at his father, grey eyes strangely vacant. Harry felt sorry for him, he really did, but he couldn't just leave Lucius Malfoy lying on the ground unconscious. He pointed his wand at Malfoy Sr., muttering, "Incarcerous," and watching as thick snake-like ropes wrapped around the man.

Harry glanced at Malfoy again, only to find that the boy hadn't moved at all. Harry swallowed past his suddenly parched through, and extended a hand to tap Malfoy on the shoulder. He supposed he wasn't too surprised when Malfoy did not respond.

Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped closer to him, "Malfoy," he shook his shoulder a bit, "Come on, you're going to get hit by a stray curse or something."

Malfoy turned to him, eyes still vacant, he looked as though he wasn't all there, but that was to be expected, Harry supposed. If his mother was killed before his very eyes he would have lost some of his marbles as well.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Dudley, his eyes switching from Malfoy to Malfoy Sr. and back to Malfoy.

"I'll explain later, Dudley." said Harry in an undertone, he didn't much fancy the idea of blurting that the woman still lying in the street was Malfoy's mother.

Deciding that he couldn't just leave Malfoy standing in the middle of a fight, though it did seem to be winding down (there were at least five of the original ten death eaters bound and stunned on the street), Harry closed his hand around Malfoy's arm, pulling him away from the still flashing lights and his father's body. Malfoy stumbled along beside him, and seconds later they were back on Uncle Vernon's lawn.

Several loud cracks interrupted Harry's hastened progress into the house, and all three of them whirled around.

Remus, Tonks, Professor McGonagall, Bill Weasley, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and Albus Dumbledore stood in the middle of the street, confusion written on each on of their faces. All of the Death Eaters were gone, including the ones that had been bound and stunned.

Harry shook his head, "Your parents are inside, Dudley, and they're worried. Go on, then." He gave his cousin a little shove towards the front steps, watching as he nodded dumbly, and tripped over the Welcome mat and through the front door.

Malfoy's breath hitched oddly from beside him, and he glanced over to see that Malfoy was stumbling his way across the grass and back to his mother's body, which still lay off to the side in front of house Number Three.

"Malfoy... Malfoy wait."

But the boy in question ignored him, just as Harry ignored the Order members now rushing towards him. He watched as Malfoy dropped to his knees beside his mother, and encircled her limp shoulders with his arms, sitting back on his heels, and pulling Narcissa onto his lap.

A sharp intake of breath was heard behind Harry.

"Oh, Albus, is that...?"

"I am afraid so, my dear."

Harry felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders from behind, turning him around and pulling him against someone's chest. "Thank God you're all right!" Remus breathed against his hair, holding Harry tightly against his chest. A display of affection Harry had never witnessed from the man ever before. His eyes burned again, and suddenly, he felt very tired, and the headache that had been temporarily blocked by adrenaline, returned with a vengeance, pounding mercilessly, right between his eyes.

He dropped his head against Remus' shoulder, breathing shakily. He didn't think he had ever been so tired in his life.

"Let's get them inside," murmured Tonks from beside him, Harry felt her hand rub his back lightly, "We'll sort it out later, eh, Harry?"

He pulled away from Remus, nodding to Tonks and turning around again to see McGonagall gently prying Malfoy away from his mother, and Dumbledore pat the boy on the shoulder as he passed.

Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and Harry allowed himself to be lead into the house behind Malfoy and McGonagall. He made it all of two steps before the ground rushed towards him as he pitched forward in a dead faint.

0000

"Crucio!"

Severus writhed in pain, a thousand white hot needles stabbing through his skin and grating against every bone in his person. He was not the only Death Eater being punished tonight. Lucius Malfoy had long since lost his wife, son, and consciousness. Severus drove his teeth into his tongue, tasting blood as he bit through the flesh. Abruptly, the pain stopped, and Severus panted for breath, every muscle in his body achy and sore from being tensed up.

He bit back a groan as he rose to his knees, gritting his teeth and bowing his head.

"I trust you will not make this mistake again."

The Dark Lord's voice rang in the silence.

"Never, my Lord," swore Severus, bowing further, his body screeching in protest. "I swear to you."

0000

"Here on the sofa, I'll go fetch a blanket." Petunia rushed up the stairs going straight for the linens just inside the wall closet.

The man, Remus, had come in carrying Harry in his arms. Her heart had nearly stopped when she saw how pale Harry was, and the bruise-like cut congealed with blood... Petunia shuddered, stopping in the kitchen to fetch a tea towel and a bowl filled with cold water. Balancing everything in her arms and making her way back to the sitting room.

Harry had been laid out on the settee, his eyes flickering open, Remus and the pink-haired woman who had come in with him breathed identical sighs of relief.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"

Remus leaned down over Harry, and Petunia set the bowl of water down on the small coffee table beside them. She shook out one of the blankets, laying it gently over her nephew's form.

"Remus?"

"He's right here, kid." The pink-haired woman she had met at the King's Cross after Harry's last school year, propped herself up on the back of the settee, sending a look at Petunia that clearly stated that she was not moving.

"Gave us quite a scare there," Tonks, leaned over further, using a hand to brush the fringe from Harry's eyes, "Heart nearly leaped straight out of my throat when you fell forward like that. Good thing Remus here's got so much practice catching people, eh?"

Harry chuckled lightly, coughing a bit as he did so, "Where's...?

"Dumbledore's with him, your Aunt set him up in the upstairs guestroom, Minerva put a sleep spell on him. We weren't sure we could travel until you woke up, and we didn't think he should stay up any longer." Remus answered.

Petunia stepped closer, thankful that both Dudley and especially Vernon had already gone upstairs. Vernon had blustered and yelled until Petunia explained that they might be caught again, then Vernon had quieted. She wrung the tea towel in her hands, using it to dab at the dried blood over Harry's head wound.

Harry glanced up at her, smiling a little when he saw who it was before turning back to Remus. "Is Malfoy, you know... alright?"

Petunia saw Harry wince a little as the words came out, and she wondered why.

Tonks answered him, "He hasn't said a word since he got here, feel sorry for the little blighter... No idea what happened though. You saw the mark on his arm."

"He killed her, his mum, right in front of him. Right after he'd branded his arm." Harry shuddered. Petunia couldn't blame him, she had watched herself, though she still did not understand exactly what exactly had gone on. It was a scene that would haunt her when she slept.

"I don't really know why Voldemort did it though-" mused Harry blearily, "But... I don't know, maybe- maybe Malfoy doesn't want to fill his father's shoes after all."

Petunia swabbed the last of the blood from Harry's forehead, listening as Remus tutted reprovingly.

"I don't believe Mr. Malfoy ever understood what his father really was until Voldemort returned. The only good that will come of this is that Draco will no longer have Lucius Malfoy around to influence him," said Remus decisively, pushing himself up from the floor. "I should check on the mess outside, and relieve Bill, Molly's probably biting her finger nails off sitting in front of that clock of hers."

Harry frowned, "Do you have to go?" he asked before he could stop himself. Remus smiled at him kindly, "I'll be back in later," he paused glancing up at Petunia, "If your aunt doesn't mind too much...?"

Petunia cleared her throat, "I- of course not, we will be... happy, to have you."

Harry smiled up at her again, and Petunia decided that she would spend a lot of time putting that kind of a smile on his face.

"I'll be in later than, Harry, and I know Albus will want to talk to you once he's finished upstairs." Remus reached down to pat his shoulder. Tonks yawned beside them, "I should go too." She stood, stretching her arms into the air above her head, "Bloody Death Eaters, did you get a chance to see the state of that car..." Tonks voice faded as she followed Remus out the door.

Petunia traced her fingers lightly around the edges of Harry's wound, it was a rather nasty bit of work, the skin right in the middle of his forehead was an ugly purpleish-green and right in the center of the bruise there was a wide slice, though it wasn't deep.

"This is from the crash?" she asked quietly, brushing her fingers through his hair, his eyes slid shut.

"Mhm, I had my head against the window. Doesn't hurt too much though..." he murmured in reply. Harry cracked one eye open to peer up at her, "You didn't get hurt did you? Or Uncle Vernon?"

Petunia shook her head, "We should clean this up a bit," she murmured, brushing her thumbs across the sides of his forehead, deflecting the question. They hadn't been hurt at all, but Harry had. And all Petunia could think about was of Vernon ranting and raving about Harry being unnatural. How had she ever agreed? And how could Vernon still think that after Harry injured and sick as he was, had gone off and saved Dudley, again.

Petunia, straightened, swiping her damp cheeks with the pads of her fingers, exiting the sitting room and making her way to the loo. The mirror above the sink in the lavatory was stocked, as always, with different sorts of medicines, antiseptics, band aids, gauze pads, and ointments... Not to mention Vernon's four different types of heart medication pills.

Petunia reentered the sitting room with a tube of antibiotic, a rather large band-aid, and hydrogen peroxide, cotton swabs, and a fresh cloth. She intended to empty the bowl she already had and refill it with clean water.

She set everything down on the table, and retrieved the bowl, glancing at Harry as she did so. He had curled on his side, one hand pressed between the arm of the sofa and his cheek, the other clutching the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

A smile flitted across Petunia's face before she retreated to the kitchen.

0000

Draco awoke in an unfamiliar bed, in a unfamiliar room, it what was sure to be an unfamiliar house.

He sat bolt upright in the bed, any lingering sleep cobwebs torn away abruptly. Immediately, his hand flew to his pocket, delving inside to close around the handle of his wand. It wasn't there. Draco's heart leaped into his throat, throbbing painfully in the area just behind his Adam's apple.

Frantically, he pat the bed around him, throwing off bed sheets that he had never once seen before in his life. It was dark still, and the room was nearly pitch black, the only light was a sliver of yellow that streamed through the window through a crack in the drapes.

Draco swung his legs over the side of the bed... or he tried to anyway. They collided painfully with a piece of furniture with a flat surface that jolted all the nerves in his heals when they landed too heavily.

"Bloody effing-!"

Something crashed on the floor, and Draco heard the distinct sound of a rolling object just before it bumped against the side of his ankle.

He breathed in and then out, blinking away tiny spots from behind his eyelids as the pain in his heels subsided. Sliding his feet from whatever they were on and down to the floor more carefully this time, Draco reached forward, patting his hands along the spot his feet had previously occupied.

It was a bed side table, he realised, tapping his fingers along the surface, a table and his... wand?

He plucked the stick from the table, running his fingers over it. It was his wand. He could feel the ridge around the handle, the length, the smoothness of the wood. Draco sighed in relief, his heart, returning to its normal place.

And for the first time, he allowed himself to consider his situation... Foreign room, a sudden urgency to use a lavatory he wasn't sure existed, his mother...

The events of the past day flooded his mind, and Draco's throat closed painfully. It was his fault... all his fault. His eyes pricked with un-shed tears, and temporarily, he forgot that he wasn't in his own home, on his own bed, in his own room, and gave way to his sorrows, pressing his face against one of the odd smelling pillows propped up behind him.

Draco curled on his side, his throat aching and sore, a dull thump hammering against his left temple, and his nose so clogged he was positive he'd never be able to breath through it again. He felt... well not better, but the suppression that had once been present, had lessened, allowing his lungs to inflate freely.

When he was younger, his mother would read him a story before bed, even though his father had greatly disapproved, she had been there, every night, without fail. Or she was, until Draco had told her he was far to old for his mother to come to his bedroom and tuck him in every night.

To have the knowledge that he would never have the chance to be tucked in... or read to, by his mother ever again, made tiny desperate sobs escape from his throat. She had always been there, but now, she was gone. And she would never, could never, read to him again. Keening moans escaped Draco's lips, sounding very loud in the dark, unfamiliar room in which he lay. He pulled the pillow closer to his face, using it to muffle his hitching breaths. His heart was tearing apart, breaking into tiny little pieces that he'd never be able to put together again.

Unfortunately, nature did not stop for heartbreak.

The ever more pressing need to use a lavatory as soon as possible returned to him suddenly. But he had no idea if there was a lavatory here... In fact, he had no idea where here was. And what was more, his throat was horribly dry from all the crying, he needed water, badly. But thinking of water made getting up to find a lavatory even more necessary then before.

A truly awful predicament.

There was nothing for it, decided Draco, pulling himself into a sitting position, wincing when his headache throbbed in response to his movements, he'd have to find it himself. He patted blindly around the bed, keeping one hand against the mattress, lest he trip on something he couldn't see.

He reached the door, creaking it open slowly, and poking his head out, looking from side to side. What looked like an oddly flat lamp connected to the ceiling lit the hallway, and Draco saw two doors opposite him on the right, and two more on his left, one a... slightly ajar, a thin sliver of light escaping the doorway.

Draco stepped out into the hallway uncertainly. Someone groaned just inside the doorway, and a toilet flushed. Draco resisted the urge to step back into the room he came from. Instead, he moved forward, his wand raised in front of him.

Running water sounded as the person inside the lavatory (he was sure it was one), twisted the tap. His heart hammering against his rib cage, and his breathing some what irregular, Draco used his foot to slide the door open wider.

For a moment, Draco thought he was still sleeping.

A rather skinny, pale, and completely real, Harry Potter, stood in front of a mirror, picking at his forehead.

He dropped his wand...

0000

Harry awoke not much later after he fell asleep. He was still on the sofa, a thick blanket spread over him and a pillow behind his head, both of which had not been there when he'd fallen asleep.

Must have been Aunt Petunia, thought Harry, smiling even as he yawned. He sat up, the blanket sliding from his shoulders and pooling around his waist, Aunt Petunia had left the lamp on, it cast a dim light over the sitting room. Which, Harry realised when he plucked his glasses from the small table and shoved them on his face, was not empty but for him. Remus slumped in the arm chair on the far side of the room, his wand held loosely in his hand. He looked greyer, and even asleep he looked overtired.

Full moon was two nights away, Harry realised with a jolt, Remus was probably aching and sore, and now he had fallen asleep in a most uncomfortable position just to keep an eye on Harry. Sympathy twinged within him, but at the same time, Harry couldn't help but feel more than a little bit happy with the way things were turning out this summer.

Despite what had happened yesterday...

Another twinge of sympathy, but this time, it was for Draco Malfoy, who still slept in the guest bedroom upstairs. Ron would burst a vein if he knew, mused Harry swinging his legs to the floor with a quiet chuckle. He stood, swaying a little as he did so, an unexpected wave of nausea swept through him.

"Urgh," Harry groaned, and clapping a hand over his mouth, he bolted for the loo, fully intending to release the contents of his stomach the moment he bent over the toilet.

Harry groaned as he sat back on his heals, ripping off a strip of toilet paper to wipe over his mouth. He flushed the toilet, getting up to rinse the abhorrent taste from his mouth and give his teeth a vigorous brushing.

He twisted the cold tap, cupping his hands beneath the faucet, and then slurping the accumulated water into his mouth. He gargled before spitting it out, cupping his hands again to wash off his face before replacing his glasses.

Belatedly, he realised that he'd just splashed water over the patch on his forehead. Harry sighed twisting off, and bracing his hands against the sink, leaning forward to peer at himself in the mirror.

The bandage was at least two inches long and one inch wide, thankfully Aunt Petunia had put first aid tape over the entire patch, instead of just on the sides. It was odd, he thought, poking experimentally at the gauze, jerking his hand away when the motion caused an ache in his forehead, Aunt Petunia cleaning up his cuts... obviously she'd never done that before. It was... nice, sort of like when Mrs. Weasley cleaned his knee when he had scraped it during his stay at the Burrow in the summer before his second year.

Harry prodded the bandage more carefully this time, he felt an inexplicable urge to pull it up a bit to take a look at the cut beneath. Pinching one corner of the tape, he peeled it up slowly, keeping in mind how much it would hurt were he to rip it off too fast.

Movement flickered in a corner of the mirror and Harry's eyes flicked up instantly, catching sight of a tall boy with blond hair standing in the door way of the loo. Draco Malfoy's wand dropped to the tiled floor.

Harry jumped violently, simultaneously ripping the bandage completely off of his forehead, cracking his knee against the sinks porcelain under belly, and yelping, "Malfoy!" very loudly.

"Ouch! Bloody- " Harry clapped a hand to his forehead, hopping up and down on one foot. Unfortunately, his now bare cut got the brunt of his slap and pain surged through Harry's head, and he overbalanced crashing to the floor at Malfoy's feet, the back of his head narrowly missing the toilet seat.

His clumsiness, apparently, spurred Malfoy into speech, and he watched as the other boy bent quickly and snatched his wand from the floor.

"What the hell is going on here!" shouted Malfoy, pointing his wand right between Harry's eyes. And that was when Harry remembered... Uncle Vernon slept right across the hall.

He scrambled to his feet at a pace much slower that he would have liked, but it seemed smacking his cut, bruising his knee, and being taken by surprise, brought nausea, a head ache and severe pain with every movement he made with his right leg.

Bloody Malfoy.

"Shut up!" he said sharply, listening for lumbering steps and huffing breaths... none. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't tell me to shut up, Potter! What are you doing here? And where the hell is here?" spat Malfoy, just as loudly as before. Harry cringed, waiting for the inevitable.

It came.

"BOY!" Thudding foot steps made their way down the hall way, followed by much lighter ones. Harry threw Malfoy a contemptuous look, right before he stepped forward, taking the boy by surprise as he shoved him inside the loo. And none too gently either.

"Whaa-?"

"Stay there!" ordered Harry sharply, surprised when Malfoy listened and backed into the loo. Harry stepped into the hall, preparing himself for Uncle Vernon's inevitable onslaught of verbiage. But it never came, instead Uncle Vernon's puce face came into focus for less than a second before he caught Harry's arm and dragged him down the hallway.

"I've had enough of this claptrap magic nonsense!" snarled Vernon, bypassing Dudley's second bedroom and shoving Harry down those stairs.

Harry stumbled and tripped, but the painfully tight grip his uncle had on his arm kept him from breaking his neck.

"I will not have it! NOT FOR ONE MORE RUDDY MINUTE!"

Harry tried to tug his arm from Uncle Vernon's grip as soon as the reached the level flooring, "Let go of my arm, you're hurting me." He tried to remain calm, "Uncle Vernon, stop, think what you're doing-"

"I'M THROWING YOU OUT ON YOUR ARSE! LIKE I SHOULD HAVE DONE WHEN YOU FIRST ARRIVED ON OUR DOORSTEP! I. WILL. NOT. HAVE. YOUR. UNNATURALNESS. HERE!" He jerked Harry around to face him, bellowing, spittle flying from his mouth and onto Harry's cheeks.

"Vernon! Vernon! Let him go!" screeched Aunt Petunia. Harry spied her running down the stairs, her hand clutching her throat, usually perfectly styled hair in wild disarray. Malfoy was right behind her... Harry avoided his eyes. Her hands scrabbled against the back of Uncle Vernon's shoulder, but Uncle Vernon ignored her, tugging Harry further from the stairway and closer to the door.

Fortunately, he never made it passed the kitchen.

Vernon's yelling had awoken Remus, whose wand was currently driving into what little of Uncle Vernon's neck that could be seen. Remus' eyes were bloodshot and wide, the expression on his face scaring even Harry. Aunt Petunia shrunk away, and Uncle Vernon's piggy little eyes were darting between Remus' face and the wand driving into his skin.

"Let. Him. Go." growled Remus, "Now."

Uncle Vernon's grip slackened, Harry wasted no time in yanking himself out of reach. "Wait in the sitting room, Harry. Petunia, go with him. Make sure your lump of a husband didn't hurt him." Remus' eyes narrowed at Harry's uncle, who whimpered slightly."And you, can get up those stairs before I curse you ten ways to next year!" Remus shoved Uncle Vernon forward, towards the stairs Harry had nearly tumbled down.

"Downstairs, Mr. Malfoy," said Remus upon seeing the boy still standing in the shadows on the second floor. Aunt Petunia lead the way into the sitting room, and almost instantly, Malfoy crossed the floor to the farthest chair from the both of them.

Harry dropped on the settee, thoroughly wishing he had never gotten up from it in the first place. He made to lie down, but Aunt Petunia sat beside him.

"Are you alright?" she asked immediately, her eyes wide with worry. "I'm-"

"Mum? Mum!" Dudley lumbered into the sitting room, his expression frantic.

"That m-man, he's got Dad upstairs! He was threatening him-" Dudley stuttered lowering his hulking form onto the settee on Petunia's other side.

"He's not going to do anything to him, Dudley," intoned Harry from the other end of the settee. "He's just... shaking him up a bit," he added, not quite sure he believed what he had said himself.

Remus reentered the sitting room, raising a hand for silence when both Harry opened his mouth, "Dursley is fine, I merely put him back in his room," he said ominously.

"Put him...?" asked Aunt Petunia tentatively.

Remus fixed her with a look, "I did nothing to hurt him, Mrs. Dursley. Which is more than he can say, I am sure."

He turned to Harry, "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, "I'm fine, just wasn't expecting it." He could tell by the look on Remus' face that the conversation wasn't over. But Harry easily warded off Remus' inquisition jerking his head at Malfoy, who still sat silently on the other side of the room.

"Mr. Malfoy-" began Remus, but the boy in question, interrupted him.

"Why am I here?" he asked, knuckles whitening around the handle of his wand.

"Mr. Malfoy, your mother-"

"I know about my Mother!" Malfoy cut in sharply, his jaw clenched and unclenched. "Why am I here. And where is here anyway."

Remus sat down in the arm chair on Harry's right, rubbing a hand across his forehead, "You-" but it seemed Remus' sentences just weren't going to be completed tonight.

"You are in Harry Potter's summer home in Little Whinghing, Surrey."

Harry's whipped his head around so fast it made a horrible cracking noise. Snape and Dumbledore stood just inside the sitting room, grim expressions on their faces. But it wasn't that that Professor, greasy haired, bat-like, Snape, was standing in his relatives' house... it was his voice.

"Sectumsempra!"

It was him!

Harry's mouth dropped open as he stared. Snape's eyes swiveled to him for a second, and Harry was sure that Snape knew what he had just now figured out. The man's lips tightened briefly, he turned away from Harry again.

"Draco, get your shoes, we must hurry," said Snape, Draco stood immediately, though he looked down at his feet as though he had not realised his shoes were missing at all. He hurried from the room.

Snape's gaze returned to Harry, "And you, Potter," he began, an ugly sneer on his face, "I suggest you pack your things as quickly as possible, we do not have time to dawdle."

Comprehension dawned on Harry's face, and his mouth dropped open to protest.

"Harry, you must leave Privet Drive in all haste, Voldemort's attack was not only troubling, but entirely unexpected." said Dumbledore, and not unkindly, "Severus will be taking you to a safer location, at this time I believe it is prudent to remove you from your mother's protection."

Harry's eyes flickered to Aunt Petunia's, "But what about...?"

"Your relatives shall be moved as well, several order members are reinforcing protective enchantments there as we speak. I apologise for the inconvenience, Mrs. Dursley."

"I- it's-" Aunt Petunia's mouth opened and closed like a fish's. "I'm afraid time is of the essence in this situation, an Order member will return for your things." added Dumbledore, "Please, Harry, get your things. All will be explained in due time."

Harry hesitated.

"Move, Potter."

He threw Snape a scathing look, but went up to Dudley's second bedroom all the same.

Packing took less than five minutes anyhow. All of his things were still in his trunk, except Hedwig, and the pile of fresh laundry Aunt Petunia had placed on his bed yesterday afternoon.

Harry opened his trunk, ignoring the mess inside, and shoved his clothes in, closing the lid again. Thankfully, Hedwig's cage was mostly clean, and she was still inside. He didn't think it was safe to let her fly away just yet, and besides, she didn't even know where Harry was going.

Harry made to pick up both the cage and his trunk, but they rose into the air by themselves. Remus stood in the hall just to the side of Harry's door, directing his trunk and owl down the stairs. A thud and Hedwig's affronted hoot signaled their safe landing.

Remus stepped forward, leaning his shoulder against the door jamb, "It isn't indefinite, Harry, it's just for now," he said, a kind smile crinkling the skin his eyes.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, puffing out a breath, "Yeah," he muttered, trailing his sock clad toes across the carpet, "I know... I just think that putting Snape, me, and Malfoy together is a really bad idea." He admitted in a rush, glancing up at Remus before dropping his gaze back to his feet.

Remus chuckled, stepping further into the room, and closer to Harry. He put his hands on Harry's shoulders, leaning down to look him in the eyes, "You'll be fine, Harry... Just try not to get into too many arguments with the Slytherins, eh?" Remus' laugh was infectious, a small smile appeared on Harry's face.

"I'll do my best." he promised solemnly, but his playful mood dropped, "What about Malfoy? We can't send him back to his dad, and his mom is..." Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek, it was weird, feeling pity for an 'enemy' he wasn't quite sure how to explain it.

"I don't know," answered Remus, "Perhaps you should try talking to Mr. Malfoy, he may not be any different, but he isn't bad."

He ignored Harry's open mouth.

"He just never thought about being good."

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times before he answered, "That makes absolutely no sense."

Remus laughed again, "It will, eventually. Give him a chance, and maybe he'll give you one." Remus pat his back lightly, "Come on then, they're waiting for you."

Harry took one last look around Dudley's room, before he followed Remus back to the sitting room.

0000

Potter looked disappointed when he found out his muggle relatives had left without saying goodbye. Draco embraced the anger he felt, he hadn't gotten to say goodbye to his mother either. At least Potter still had relatives to say goodbye to at all.

Draco sighed heavily, it didn't matter now anyway, he thought, slumping against the wall in what he assumed would be his bedroom at Spinners End. Potter was staying in the room right across from him. Draco slid away from the wall to lie flat on his bed, blue, cotton, sheets wrinkling beneath him. His throat tightened painfully, and he swallowed passed the lump lodged there.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and the only thing that kept them from falling was the sound of foot steps ascending the rickety, creaky, staircase that lead to the second floor.

Hastily, he swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, settling himself on his side just as Severus appeared in the doorway. He stood, somewhat awkwardly, and Draco sat up, painfully aware that his eyes hadn't stopped watering.

"I am sorry, about your mother, Draco," he said quietly, "If there was something I could have done to prevent it, I assure you, I would have."

Draco nodded, tears trailed down his cheeks, he wiped them away, but more made their way down the erased path. "I know." He sniffed, not that it was much use, his nose was once again clogged passed usable abilities.

A white handkerchief appeared before him, and Draco took it, nodding his thanks. He swiped the cloth under his nose, bunching the cloth in his fingers, his gaze affixed to one of the buttons on Severus' robes.

He started when the man's hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing it briefly. "Never the less," murmured Severus, "I am sorry."

And he left, leaving Draco, curled on his side, quiet sobs hitching in his chest, staring disconsolately at the wall beside him.

0000

Severus entered Potter's current residence with a growing sense of dread. The last thing he wanted to do was attempt to teach the boy Occlumency, now he had to live in close quarters with him as well.

His lips tightened as he knocked once before entering.

Potter lay on his back, staring dismally up at the ceiling. He sat bolt upright when he saw Severus, his eyes going wide.

"You will be resuming your Occlumency lessons, Potter," he said, without preamble. "The Dark Lord has not yet discovered your condition, and it would be to our benefit that things remain as they are."

He sneered at the boy's gaping expression.

"H-how did you-?"

"Albus told me, and if you had any sense in your head at all you would realise why your lessons are of such import." He turned to leave.

"Wait!"

He looked back over his shoulder, eyes narrowing.

"Professor," added Potter hastily, "I just wanted to say... thanks. For, you know."

Potter gestured vaguely.

Severus stood stock still for a moment, then, inclined his head slightly, and left the room.