Dancing with Fire

“So, are we not going to talk about it?”

Harry would throw a pillow at Krum’s face if Pomfrey wouldn’t hurt him for it. Unfortunately, he values his taste buds. 

All four of the champions were forced to the hospital wing after the match, shoved into the emergency wing and told to lie down. Since the hostages had been in cold waters for Godric knows how long, they were her first priority. 

Fleur hasn’t made eye contact since they entered the room, Cedric won’t stop pacing, and Krum is merely lounging on one of the empty beds. Harry just really wants to go to the Gang’s room. 

He knows everyone is there and waiting for him and Ron. He’ll have to give an explanation because he’s sure they’re all confused about everything, and yeah, he’ll have to deal with some mild frustration and anger, but it’s still preferable to Fleur tearing up every five seconds.

“What?” Cedric pauses his twenty-fifth round around the room, looking at Krum who just shrugs.

“Well, I’m not sure what happened, but I believe we’ve just seen Fleur-”

“Shut up.” Fleur hisses. “You saw nothing.”

Harry would beg to fucking differ.

And apparently, so would Krum.

“Are you ashamed? Why should you be? Veelas are respected in many cultures, you know.”

Fleur turns to him with her eyes wide and fists clenched. “You think I’m embarrassed of my magical heritage?” She scoffs, “Never. I am proud to be who I am, let them call me a beast, I hope the pictures of me pointing my wand in the headmasters’ stupid faces make the front cover of every wizard magazine! I am still infuriated over the idiocy they displayed! They endangered more than just children today they….” She casts a glance at Harry and then stops talking all together.

Great. Another thing that he has to deal with.

“Look,” Harry sighs, moving away from his spot by the windows, “If this is about the merpeople, Ra said it’s fine. He gets it, if anything I think he’s more pissed at Dumbledore for being so reckless. I healed one of the mermen you attacked, and if he had the time to take us back to shore then the rest are probably fine so, you know, no harm done.”

He has no clue why Cedric is frantically waving at him to stop talking, all he’s doing is trying to calm Fleur down, but Krum is starting to look highly amused also….

Fleur finally looks him in the eye and oh fuck, did he do something wrong?

“No harm done?!” She seethes, answering his question, “I nearly killed them and I-I would’ve killed you if you hadn’t stunned me! I had no control! I was a danger to everyone, including Gabbi!”

Harry holds his hands up in surrender, “But you didn’t! No one got hurt! And everyone understands, they took your sister! I was ready to kill anyone who got in the way of me getting Ron, and if it makes you feel any better you looked like a badass the entire time!”

Fleur blinks twice at him, but her anger seems to be dying down, so he keeps going.

“Like, I mean complete warrior. It was kinda scary, but I have to be honest I have never respected you more than I do right now. And, you know what? If you had killed someone, it would’ve been completely understandable!”

Even Krum is giving him a funny look now, but it only lasts for a second and then Fleur is laughing, light and airy. She pops off her stool and crosses the room to pull him in for a hug.

“You are a strange boy, Harry Potter.”

“You know I’m getting told that more and more these days. I think it’s the scar, it’s gotta be the scar, right?”

“Actually,” Cedric pipes up, “I think it’s the inability to stay away from trouble.”

“Yeah, Hermione tells me that too.”

Krum laughs at that, they end up bickering until Pomfrey comes into the room. Harry swears that if she wanted to she could kill them all, but she just heals their wounds and tells them to get some sleep. Harry she pulls aside to thoroughly inspect.

“Um...is there something wrong, Madam?”

Pomfrey glares at him in a very calculated way that he doesn’t really care for.

“You have no wounds, Mister Potter.”

He doesn’t? That’s cool. But, to be fair, that’s probably because of Ra. Should he tell her that? Is it really important?

Harry catches a glimpse of orange hair and decides that no, no it’s not important so he rushes out some bullshit excuse and goes running to his best friend. Ron catches him in a bear hug, swinging him around just for the hell of it.

“Godric above I nearly pissed myself when Dumbledore drew his wand at me.” Ron tells him as they walk down the wall. “Really, mate, he went all stoic and said something about me being important to you, then BAM wand in my face. From the most powerful wizard alive, not exactly comforting.”

Harry laughs through his anger, “You should’ve seen it when they first told us, I was sure Fleur was about to kill them all, and to be honest I probably would’ve joined her.”

Ron pauses outside the door to the Gang’s Room and grabs him by the shoulders.

“Harry, listen.” He really hopes this isn’t going to be sappy, neither of them handle sappy well. “It means a lot that I was the one down there, you know? I mean, we all think of you as family. You mean the world to us, hell, you know you even have your own bed back at the Burrow and I just. What I’m trying to say is uh, well, me too, buddy.”

“You too?” Harry asks, just because Ron trying to be serious is second only to Krum-Shark and this conversation is way too emotional for either of them. 

“Shove off, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do, mate.”

Harry holds up his pinky, Ron takes it, they bump thumbs and grin like they’re eleven and hiding from McGonagall during class again. 

“Great.”

“Yup.”

“Ready to go inside and face the wrath of your boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

Ron, being the great friend that he is, just laughs and swings open the door, using his unfair height advantage against Harry and really! He’s seen a lot of fowl play this morning, but this is definitely at the top of the list! When did Ron even so tall?! He’s like a fucking  giant-

“You fucking bastard!”

Harry gulps, realizing that Ron’s height is the least of his problems. Especially when he has a room of angry friends looking at him. Well, room of angry friends and Luna. He’s half convinced that Luna doesn’t really feel anger, but Hermione and Draco most certainly do.

“Didn’t you promise Sirius not to do stupid shit like that?!” Draco yells, poking his chest unnecessarily hard.

Hermione glares at both of them, opening her mouth probably to insult their intelligence, but then the rest of the Weasley crew come up behind her. It takes all of one second for the twins to pull Ron and Harry into a bone-crushing hug, Ginny right in the middle.

“We thought you were dead under there!”

“Seriously, Ickle Ronniekins!”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” 

They all pull back just in time to see Hermione wiping her eyes, “You could’ve at least told us you were going to be a part of the trial, Ron. We were all worried sick.”

“And you!” Blaise steps through the mops of red hair, Pansy hot on his heels. Harry has half the sense to cower behind Draco, and all the courage and stupidity to face them head-on. “What the hell were you doing with the King of The Black Sea?!”

“The who?”

Hermione and his pureblood friends look scandalized.

“Tell me he’s joking,” Millie groans, sitting down after making sure her friends are actually in one piece. “We spent a month going over merpeople, tell me he’s fucking joking.”

“Hey! In my defense, we never covered royalty!” 

Blaise and Hermione glare, but Fred and George nod. Draco sighs, “He’s got a point.”

“And for the record,” Ron sits beside his sister and brothers, Luna on the floor smiling in front of them, “I did not agree to be a part of the tournament, Dumbledore ambushed me and then pulled his wand out okay! I had no consent or opinion on that.”

Dumbledore should really stop pissing people off. Really, he already has Narcissa, probably Belle, definitely Sirius and Remus pissed at him, but he’s about to have the whole Weasley clan after his head and Harry knows Dumbledore is more powerful, but there’s a lot of strength in numbers. 

 Plus, they might be teenagers but every last one of them are starting to grow a personal vendetta against the man.

Ron tells them about his morning, how he woke up super early because he was planning on surprising Harry with a ridiculous banner, Harry was completely right about the tail-jokes, but then Dumbledore sent a note saying to meet him in the headmaster’s office, so he went, thinking he was absolutely in trouble for the one joke about eating the other champions’ ‘tails’. But when he got to the office Dumbledore was as cryptic as ever, going on about friendship and loyalty and how valuable he was, which was great for Ron’s ego until the Albus Dumbledore pointed his wand at Ron’s face. From that moment on he doesn't really remember much, which pisses them all off. Draco to the point that he’s ready to march into Dumbledore’s office and have a word with the man himself.

“You think I won’t?! Dumbledore has been hiding from a lot of people’s anger this year and I’ve about had it! What’s he gonna do next, hm? See if he can burn the champions alive?! Roast them over the fucking fire?!”

“Dragon, love, your flames will come out.” Pansy remarks, idly tying up her hair. Draco glares at her before relaxing into Harry, who still has a lot of questions.

“But wait, maybe what Ra said will calm him down? He’s a big deal, right? Maybe he can make Dumbledore, I dunno, calm down a bit?”

“He’s a big deal…” Millie echos, a little bit disgusted which doesn’t make sense at all. “He’s only descendant of the first born son of Mother Ocean, only one of the heads of the Kings of the Nine Seas, only.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, Hermione just sighs along with the rest of them.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Blaise-Bear, you know it best.”

“Yes, yes I suppose I do.” Blaise sighs, and then he flicks his wand a bit and one of the books on the shelves comes flying out.

“We all know that the elements created magic, right? You all paid attention to that in History of Magic class?”

Harry nods, Blaise glares at Ron who just shrugs. 

“Ronald you are a menace, but so you’re aware, yes magic evolved from the elements. Water being one of the four eldest, she was once known as Am'ma Veḷḷaṁ, but as Earth began to take over, and magical creatures began to rise, she was forced to split into different bodies. The first, what we know as rivers and lakes, is known as Ertt Vāṭṭar. The second, while most commonly known as Mother Ocean, is called Yathārt'tha Veḷḷaṁ. Okay? You with me?”

Harry nods once again, although this isn’t near as interesting as the story Geia showed him. 

“So, Mother Ocean, after the first few millennia of Magical Creatures, realized that too many things were being born and she couldn’t keep up with them. Too many creatures needed too much of her, the land was beginning to ruin her own creatures that had begun to evolve inside her, and so she split into nine seas, and in turn had nine children. The first was Kaṟupp, Ruler of the Black sea, Father to Rallam, King of the Black Sea. That is the king you met today, Harry you absolute dumbass.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Harry protests, letting go of Draco’s hand to wave it in front of him. “There’s no way! Rallam can’t be over fifty years old-”

“Harry, he’s nearly fifty thousand years old.”

Harry’s eyes bulge out of his head, “What?!”

Fred and George are laughing at him now, thank Godric Ginny finds Luna’s hair more interesting than this conversation.

“Yes. His father, King Kaṟupp, was born about the same time as the Old Trolls, so probably four hundred and thirty thousand years ago.”

Harry needs a full thirty minutes to digest that, but Blaise only gives him ten seconds.

“Anyways, the reason why it’s such a big deal, besides the obvious I mean, is because in the last couple of hundred years humans have been real dicks to Mother Ocean,  just look at the amount of trash that’s polluting the waters. Obviously this isn’t good, but some merfolk are sympathetic to humans, some are not. King Rallam...is not. Well, he’s usually not on friendly terms with humans, and holds most of wizardkind in contempt for their similarities. So him not killing you, and then giving you his nickname as a show of friendship is a big deal Harry. Do you get it now?”

Harry nods, not getting it whatsoever, but at least he does understand why Ra was so rude at first. Blaise is looking at him expectantly, and Harry realizes a bit too late that the whole room is looking at him funny.

“What? Did I do something?”

“You were the only one uninjured when you came out of the lake.” Hermione points out suspiciously.

And yeah? He was? Why is that such a big deal to people today?

“Um? Yeah, Ra healed me before we came up?”

Blaise’s jaw drops. 

“It was kinda gross, actually, he was rubbing blood onto this wound in my arm, it’s right-” Huh? That’s funny. Harry knows, he knows that he was bleeding less than two hours ago. The cut was bad, probably from one of those pointy things he thought he dogged, Pomfrey let him go so he thought it wasn’t a big deal. But here, on his arm, instead of a scar, or even a jagged line that he was half expecting, are some weird blue symbols nearly translucent on his skin.

“What the fuck is-”

Blaise rushes forward, grabbing his arm in a particularly painful way and twists it until he can see it. Harry has no idea why this is happening, it literally just looks like a bunch of curly drawings to him, but he does know that Blaise is fucking hurting him.

“Hey! Blaise-Bear!” He calls out, “What the fuck!”

Draco flicks Blaise on the forehead, whispering something in French that gets the boy to be a little gentler.

“What is it?” Hermione asks. The twins have suddenly become interested in the conversation again, even Ginny is looking up from Luna’s sleeping little face. 

“It's writing.” Blaise whispers. He sounds a little awe-stuck, which is something so unlike Blaise that Pansy comes over and checks his head for a fever. 

“Writing?” Harry scoffs, looking down at the marks on his arm. “There’s no way that’s writing-”

“കറുത്ത രാജാവിന്റെ അടയാളം.”

Every single person in the room blinks.

“I’m sorry,” Millie begins, “What?”

“It’s ancient Malayalam. The water language. It means ‘Mark of the Black King’.”

Draco sighs like he’s a thousand years old himself, “Did he do anything else to you, love?”

Harry takes a second to really look at his arm, Blaise’s wonder-filled face, and Draco’s tired one. Then he looks down and says, “Um, he kinda made me drink his blood?”

“What?” Draco asks, sitting up completely to look at him. 

Blaise is one second away from cutting off his arm and putting it in a museum. “He….you’ve been...what?”

“Yeah? I was drowning, so he just stuck his thumb in my mouth I guess.”

The Weasleys laugh at the obscurity of it all, Draco and the other purebloods blink at him, and Hermione is the only sane one who looks just as disgusted as he feels. Seriously, was blood sharing the only way? Harry feels like it’s a bit dramatic, but nothing like watching Blaise gain control of himself again.

Harry taps him on the forehead. “Hey, how do you know so much about this stuff?”

Draco elbows him in the side, so maybe he wasn’t supposed to ask that question, but Blaise just sighs and lets Pansy wrap herself around him in a back hug. 

“Magical Ancestry, dumbass. You should read up on yours.”

And that is an excellent point. He hasn’t had much time to with, well, the everything that’s been happening this year. Luna only gave him the book around Christmas time, and that was the day before the Yule Ball, the day before he and Draco officially got together, and well, Harry really forgot about the book when he was kissing Draco, plus he has that photo album that Sirius and Remus gave him, and he looks through that way too much for it to be healthy. That’s not even taking in school-work and preparing for the tasks.

So yeah, he should probably sit down with his Ancestry book and figure it out, but he promised to go by Hagrid’s hut and tell him all about the trial, and because Krum seems like the type to like big dogs, Cedric likes Hagrid, and Fleur’s sister also likes big dogs, all the other champions (and Gabbi) join him, and he can’t not stay for tea with Hagrid, so there goes one day to look at the book.

And the next day Hermione sends out their end of the year study schedules, he has no idea what the final task will be, and he’s busy with living life in the present, so Harry makes a promise. 

He’ll do it in the summer, when he’s trapped at the Dursleys’ with nothing better to do than read about the dead people that might have loved him.

Fleur really needs a confidence boost. After all, she did just expose her Veela in front of everyone and he can see the papers haven’t exactly been nice about it. ‘Pretty Witch Or Ugly Monster?’ written by Rita Seeker and backed up by bigoted children who have no idea what they’re talking about. At least she was singing Harry’s praises instead of calling him a siren, Blaise would have a fit...much like Fleur is probably doing.

She wasn’t at breakfast, and she never misses the blueberry muffins that grace Slytherin tables every weekend morning. Or her daily ten cups of coffee...

So yeah, Fleur needs a confidence boost, and a change in attitude.

Which is exactly why Draco goes to see her on Sunday morning, well, that and because his little cousin is there and Luna demanded he go with her.

“Go away.” Lynda, the only Bebuxton with red-hair answers. Draco just rolls his eyes.

“We’re here to see Fleur.”

“Fleur doesn't want to see anyone.”

“We’re her fucking family, so open the door or I’m blasting in.”

That seems to make them change their mind, as the door slowly creeps open to reveal bushy red hair and a frown. “You’re risking her wrath, you know.”

Draco just shrugs, pulling Luna in with him and making a b-line for Fleur’s room. It’s on one of the highest levels because she’s a seventh-year and at the top of most of her classes, all the way to the right because Madam Maxiene knows she loves fresh light in the morning. Spoiled is what she is, and rightfully so, in his humble opinion.

He would knock on the door, but there’s no point because he knows Fleur is in a Mood, so he just casually picks the lock and opens it as quietly as he can.

Gabbi is asleep in the corner, Fleur quietly hanging clothes. She pauses when she sees them and Merlin, Draco really hopes she hasn’t been crying this entire time.

Fleur’s room is neat as always, despite Gabbi being there for over an hour. If she’s anything like she was as a child she’ll have the place destroyed the second she wakes up. But he can worry about that later because right now he’s going to pull Fleur in for a long hug.

“I am sorry.” She says, “Once they find out we share blood-”

“It will mean nothing,” Draco soothes her, stepping back so Luna can get a hug as well, “Look at My-ō-bu, she is related to us, but no one has called her a Veela.”

Luna flushes, “That is because they are busy calling me other things. Neither of you should worry, you forget that Harry encountered the Great King. That will hold their focus more than your Veela parts. Dragon always has good control, they will not assume.”

She takes a seat beside Gabbi’s sleeping little face, brushing hair out of the sleeping girl’s eyes. Fleur smiles a bit at her, and then grabs Draco’s hands. “I have something else I must apologize to you for personally.”

“If it’s about Harry I already know.” 

Fleur looks at him with wide eyes, Luna just keeps smiling, like she’s watching something she’s already expected.

“He told us already.”

She smirks at him, “So we have stopped pretending that you’re not friends?”

“Shut up, it’s only because you’re family. I wanted to introduce him to Gabbi, but I guess that will have to wait.”

Gabrielle stirs a bit at the sound of her name, blinking up to look at Luna a little confused. “My-ō-bu? What are you- Dragon?! You’re here too?!”

And from that point on Draco completely ignores the rest of the world for the day. Gabbi leaves tomorrow, so they spend the entire time playing games and talking late into the night. Gabbi tells them about Cousin Apolline and Cousin Monnie. She tells them that Grandma Aimee is coming to visit the second she gets back and yes, she’s just as furious as the rest of them. Apparently she’s already thanked Harry for saving her life when they went to visit Hagrid yesterday, which is great because Draco’s kinda thrilled at the idea of his family getting along with his boyfriend.

The night eventually comes to a close. Draco kisses his cousins on their foreheads, promising to see Fleur tomorrow, and then walks Luna back to the castle. He’s half tempted to get Winky to see if Harry is free, which reminds him that he really needs a way for them to communicate freely, which reminds him of his project. And because he has so much to do tomorrow and the rest of the week, Draco decides to go straight to bed.

He gets a letter from his father the next morning.

Not a note, not some poor set of instructions, but a letter.

Dragon,

I apologize for taking so long to write, your mother takes care of most important things with you, so it was difficult to think of what to tell you. I’ve read up on what happened at the latest Tournament Task, Fudge is furious about King Rallam’s disappointment, but that’s what he gets for putting headmasters and Crouch in charge. The man’s son has been missing for a month now and that poor Percy Weasley child has had to take over his work. I’ll give the boy this, without him his entire department would fall apart. I was happy to learn of Fleur’s and Gabbi’s safety, their parents flooed by with Gabbi before returning to Paris. And while your mother and I are furious with Dumbledore for his recklessness, we were relieved that you were not under the lake. 

I understand who you are important to, and who is important to you, and I hope to Merlin that neither of you suffer for the other. I’ve heard from Severus that your school-work is going well, that you’ve been taking extra classes with Pomfrey. Healing is in the family, you know. 

He goes on to talk about work, how Sirius and Remus have nearly finished redecorating the Black Ancestral House, and it’s so...normal. What any regular father and son would talk about. Boring, sure, and lengthy as fuck, but it’s everything to him. It’s his dad not Lucius, not ‘father’ none of that distant-ensuring bullshit. Just dad, complaining about Sirius’s bad alcohol.

Draco writes back in turn, tells him about the experience of seeing King Rallam in real life, complains about Moody, tells him about how excited he is for his Transfiguration project, how much he likes lessons with Poppy. 

It’s not much, it’s not perfect even, but it’s a fucking start. 

“We’re not going to get any work done like this.”

Draco is right, they’re not going to get any work done, and that is exactly the point.

“It’s fine,” Harry drags him closer to the blankets by the fire, further away from their homework. “Finals aren’t for another two months.”

“You still haven’t started on your Transfiguration project!” Draco warns, but he’s not resisting so Harry counts it as a win.

“That’s because my project is simple, plus we have our presentations a day before you so you won’t be able to upstage me.”

Draco sighs, casting one final look to the tables before shrugging and sinking down into the mounds of pillows that Harry carefully arranged. “I’m only agreeing to this because you nearly died a few days ago, but one day the novelty of that is going to wear off.”

“Think of how blissful it will be for you and Hermione when you accept that Death and I are frequent acquaintances.”

Draco hits him.

They haven't had a chance to get together by themselves since the Second Task, partly because Draco was determined to spend Sunday with his family, Monday brought school, and since three days is really their limit for not spending time together, they resolved to just stay up later than usual and meet today, or rather, tonight.

“You know Sirius will be calling in an hour, he always calls on Wednesdays.”

“And we have an hour until then.”

Draco snorts at him, but he does take Harry’s hand, lightly moving up until he’s gripping the marked part of his arm. “At the rate you’re going you’ll have a full collection by the time we graduate.”

“I dunno, the others aren’t as cool as Merfolk Script and a Lightening Scar.”

“Well, I never pegged Quirrell as the artistic type. And Lockheart was far too stupid to have any redeemable traits.”

Harry goes a little quiet remembering last year’s little adventure. He wonders if Draco still has the scars on his back, the ones that would be right beneath his fingertips at the moment.

“I recall that you have a set yourself.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never had a scar in my entire life.”

Harry laughs again, resisting the urge to talk about the two he knows are there. Maybe Narcissa will see them one day and take care of it, he highly doubts she’d want her son walking about with such foul reminders. And because Draco looks a little sad at the topic of conversation, Harry leans in and kisses him softly. 

Finals month starts soon, he still has a task to go, still has to figure out what he’s going to do about Geia this summer, but at least his boyfriend and the rest of their merry crew will be with him through it all.

Between classes, sneaking out to see Harry, Geia, or Fleur, his Transfiguration project, tea with Severus, writing to his mother, lessons with Poppy, and Hermione’s study schedule the rest of the month flies by. Before he knows it, finals are three weeks away, the final task is six weeks away, and Poppy is proud of him.

Poppy is fucking proud of him.

Granted, she fucking should be because he’s spent the better part of the last month and a half working on this stupid little thing. 

“Are you going to show me how it works, or just explain the theory?” Poppy asks with a little smile, and because he has the time before their morning Saturday rush, Draco grabs Frankie from his closet and the little pocket watch that used to be normal.

Then he slashes Frankie’s skin open with his wand, presses the watch’s setting button three times, and opens it to find the thankfully right creme, applies it to the wound, and watches with Poppy as the wound begins to close.

“There are clicks, and it has the ten basic creams and salves from that book you showed me. I made them correspond with the emergency of a situation, so the ones most important have the least amount of clicks. I figured it could be used for medical emergencies or for those that don’t have a lot of medical experience.”

Poppy’s eyes widen. “I want one.” She looks like she might snatch it right out of his hands, so he slips it in his pocket, but she’s still on about how wonderful it is.

“Think about it Draco! There are endless uses! It could be issued to prevent minor injuries in students so hospitals wouldn’t risk overfilling, or for travels to prevent deaths on the roads, Aurors would love it, and Minerva is going to be so proud of you! Have you shown Severus yet?”

No, no he has not. Partly because he wanted to make sure it actually works, and also because he has tea scheduled with the man at two. It’s the first time they’re both had a free moment to enjoy, and Draco’s very excited to have time with his godfather, but fate has other plans because he walks in to find Ellios and William sitting on Snape’s love seat.

“Please, come in Draco. We have much to discuss.”

Merlin, this is so not what he wanted to spend the day doing, but he steps inside anyways, making his way to his chair that is thankfully by Snape and not the family. He sits nervously, watches Ellios and Severus nod to each other, and then Ellios is speaking.

“Draco,” They begin, “You have been a good friend to me so far. For that I am indebted. You not only kept my relationship with Severus a secret, but my relationship to my son quiet as well.”

“Nobi-” William tries to interrupt, but Ellios holds up their hand and he quiets.

“We owe you an explanation.”

Severus sighs, offering him a cup of tea that he takes because this is apparently where he’ll be for a minute.

“To begin our story, we must speak of the day my life and Severus’s collided. It was during the first war, on a battlefield in…”

“In Yorkshire.” Snape pipes up quietly. “We had been sent to clear out wizards so the Dark Lord, sorry Draco, Riddle, could come in and clean out the muggles. He liked to do those types of things back then…”

All of them grimace at the thought, but Ellios continues. “A fleet of Aurors had just been taken down, I was a healer back then, out on the field with everyone who was not in a hospital. It was horrible, dead bodies on every corner, hospitals too filled for the sick…” They look out into the distance, William takes their hand and their eyes clear a little. “I was checking for live ones, people I could save, or at least hold over until I could get them to a medical base, and I found Severus. He was bleeding out behind a bar, stuck by a curse. The thing about being a healer, Draco, is that it does not matter who is hurt, you must heal them. Severus did not have his mask, but I saw the mark, and I healed him anyways because if I had not it would have been his blood on my hands.”

Snape snorts lightly, “They kept me in an abandoned shack for three days. Everyday they would come in with their wands raised, check on my wounds, and make me eat.”

“He was an ass about it,” Ellios says fondly, “But he was kind for a Death Eater. He told me to leave him, that his death would be a good thing. One less person on their side….”

“We kept meeting after I was healed.” Snape explains. “Every new town they were there, and every time I would sneak back under polyjuice and help them. Brew what I could, drag the bodies they couldn’t.”

“And then the other Death Eaters  found me.” Ellios sighs. They take William’s hand, squeezing it as if apologizing.

“I never knew what he looked like, but he was my punishment. I healed too many people they wanted dead, and he was the roughest…..”

It takes a second to realize what they’re saying….what was done to them. Snape can’t look their way, instead gazing at his desk. 

“When Severus found me in the dungeon where he was keeping me, he killed the man and took me away. We found out I had been held for three months, and I was already starting to show that I was with child. He kept me safe and hidden, became my friend. Helped me the first few months that Willie was born, and then, when William was old enough, he helped us sneak away to Russia where I found out about the Durm. About the students that were suffering there, and I had my mind healer license, but because of the war I had not gotten the chance to use it, so I became the school mind healer.”

“Two years later and the war was over, but I stayed at the Durm because I could not afford to come home. And Willie…show him, love.”

William looks physically pained to be doing this, but he sighs long and deep, and then Draco’s looking at Ellios and a mini male version of Ellios.

“I was right! You are a Metamorphmagus!”

“Shut up.”

Ellios slaps William lightly on the hand, turning back to Draco. “We have not had easy lives, and William and I both are terrified about the outcome of the future war, which is why Willie has been poorly tailing you and your friends. Parents like to believe that war will never fall to burden their children, but it is simply unavoidable. We needed to know who’s hands we had left Severus in, and I am sorry for not speaking the truth to you sooner. But Severus and I agreed it would be best to make sure you collected your footing before we start.”

“Start what?” 

William rolls his eyes, “We’re gonna train your mind stupid. You and that Harry Potter git.”

“Hey! Harry isn’t a git, he’s-wait. Hold on a moment. Train my mind? I already have pretty good occulamany shields, Malfoys learn them at an early age.”

Ellios laughs, “The mind can grow in my ways, even with shields protecting it it is still a mind. Not a fortress, or even a safe garden. I would like to speak with your mother before beginning, but I need you to want this.”

“I mean,” Draco looks to Severus, who nods, “I’m always happy to grow, but when would we start? How would we do it?”

Ellios smiles again, all light and happy. William doesn’t look pleased in the slightest. “I am taking a job here next year, my classroom began preparations at the beginning of the year,” So they're the reason for Hermione’s beginning of the year anger….interesting. “If you do not wish to take my class, I can extend office hours to you.”

Draco nods, because it does sound like a good idea and Narcissa will be happy if it makes him harder to kill, so he doesn’t really have any objections.

And then he shows them all his project because it’s fucking cool and he can’t wait to slip it into Harry’s pocket before the next task.