Periods Of Unrest

Lying on his bed, fresh from the euphoria of his confrontation with Ron and Hermione, Harry was hardly aware of falling asleep.  His next bout of awareness came when he woke up just after midnight. The idea of going on his usual stroll and tour of Hogwarts wasn't appealing, so he lay in bed and thought about his love.  Lucius.  He could remember everything about his beautiful blonde lover.  

From Lucius' captivating hair, which he loved to comb his fingers through, to the older man's lovely entrancing eyes; The eyes that drew him in and held him captive.  Down to the high cheekbones and mouth that could swallow him whole.  The lovely neck that he loved to feast on, and the arms held him close.  Next came Lucius' broad chest that he could rub his hands on and rest against, feeling Lucius heartbeat.  The nipples he loved to suckle and bite, while holding on to his lover.  The stomach that was so flat, he loved to kiss it and rub his tongue all over it.  The navel he just loved to suck and lick.

From the navel, he could kiss down to the blond haired patch that held the essence of his lover; Harry could bury himself there and be satisfied.  Jutting out from that patch was the long sleek fullness of his lover's cock.  A part of Lucius that brought Harry so much pleasure, whether he was licking it from base to tip, swallowing it whole, or Lucius was using his cock to penetrate Harry's body, filling him like no-one ever had.  Offering Harry the satisfaction, that his body, youthful as it was, could be used as a temple to swathe the older man's pleasure.
As Harry continued thinking on his lover, he took off his clothes and laying naked on his bed, the teenager started touching himself, imaging that this was a pleasure he was sharing with his lover.  

Slowly pulling at his penis, Harry picked up his fantasy from where he'd stopped at Lucius' cock.  Beneath his lover's cock, was the perfect pair of globes that he loved to swallow whole.   There was nothing Lucius loved more than having his balls licked and swallowed while Harry was slowly stroked his long length.  Harry then imagined that he could lick down from Lucius' balls to the enticing hole that was the quintessence of his lover.  After feasting there, Harry moved on to kissing the junction of his lover's thighs, and placing a bite right there, reminding the older man of him long after they'd parted.

As Harry fell deeper into his fantasy, he licked the two fingers in his right hand and slowly entered himself while the other hand stoked his cock lovingly.  He had his eyes closed, and there in that darkness, Harry could imagine that Lucius was sitting at the edge of his bed watching him.  This was the incentive that he needed to go over the edge, and he called out his lover's name as he released his fluids straight into his waiting hand.

Harry took a deep breath and lay back on the bed wearily.  Would he ever see Lucius again? Would he ever be able to live this fantasy with Lucius?  He missed Lucius.  The coming day was Saturday, and he would have really loved to rendezvous with the older man.

After cleaning himself up, Harry mused to himself how funny it was, how much Lucius had come to mean to him considering the history of their acquaintance.

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Harry's first meeting with Lucius was less than superlative, and so were their subsequent meetings until his fourth year.  By then, Harry could concretely tell anyone that asked, that besides Voldemort, Lucius' was the next name on the list of those who wanted to kill him.  After all, the older man was Voldemort's right hand man and as far as anyone knew, would do and use anything in his bid for power.

It was during the summer after Voldemort had risen, that his interactions with Lucius took a different turn.  During this period, his nightmares were occurring daily and he hadn't been getting any sleep.  He had nightmares of both the third task of the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's increasing power.  When the latter occurred, Harry often called out in his sleep.  The first times that this occurred, he woke his muggle family, and Harry's uncle had showed him the error of his ways by punishing him with a cane.  

When Harry was quite young, his uncle had called him aside once and told him that he didn't believe in the adage 'Spare the Rod and Spoil the Child' was the proper way to deal with him.  So, whenever he'd done something wrong, either real or perceived, he'd been flogged.  At the age of six, he would have taken it as the norm, if he hadn't seen that Dudley was quite excused from this form of punishment.  Harry had tried complaining, but that only increased the number of lashes he received, so he'd accepted it as part of living with his family.

Petunia's form of punishment was to give him more work to do around the house, and Dudley developed cruel and unusual bullying techniques.  Most of them delivered with his fist away from the view of Vernon and Petunia.

The routine of nightmare and punishment continued steadily until Vernon realised that his deterrent wasn't working.  At this time, Vernon changed Harry's room Dudley's old room, to the forgotten storage area in the basement.  Vernon's reasoning was that if Harry was as far away from them as possible, the rest of the family couldn't hear his screams, and he couldn't keep waking them up.  The only advantage that Harry gained from this was that it gave him more space.  The basement was better than the cupboard under the stairs, and here Harry could avoid his family.

During the summer, there were only so many chores and housework that Harry could do before the boredom set in and Harry sneaked out one night to Diagon Alley.  He used the Knight Bus and went straight to Gringotts for his money, and then Flourish and Blotts.  

During the time Harry studied for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, all the help Hermione had given him opened his eyes to more of the wizarding world than he ever knew about, and awoke in him a hunger for knowledge.  Harry then determined that during the holidays, since any reading he would be doing wouldn't be for the sole purpose of writing assignments and passing examinations, he would take the time to assimilate and better understand what he was reading.  To this end, the books he bought there were not strictly a part of the school curriculum, but for him, they helped him with the understanding of the wizarding precept and concepts.

Unfortunately, the night after he went to Diagon Alley, Harry had a nightmare of one of Voldemort's meetings.  Here, the dark lord instructed his followers that the location of his home had been compromised.  A Death Eater had followed him from Diagon Alley the previous night.  They were then sent to kidnap him and deliver him straight into Voldemort's clutches.  Harry woke up with a scream at that and would have sent an owl to Dumbledore, if he didn't already hear the sounds of intrusion into his home.  Escape was impossible, since the door was locked from the outside by his uncle so he quickly covered himself in his flimsy blanket and crawled to the corner of the room to hide.  

Earlier that evening, his uncle, upon discovery of his late night excursion had punished him, and as a result, his movement was severely hindered.  Hiding in the corner, Harry's fear was tangible because he knew that there was no way that he could avoid being seen whoever came down the basement.

It wasn't long before the door was opened and from where Harry was hiding, he had a very good view of Lucius Malfoy entering the room with his wand drawn.  The older man made a cursory glance around the room, taking in everything before his gaze came back to rest on Harry.  With his face uncovered, Harry's eyes met Lucius' in silent deliberation with the young man's fear quite evident.  This impasse was broken when they heard another come down the stairs, and Harry watched Lucius' hand movement as he cast a spell that Harry didn't hear.

When the other man entered, Harry recognised him as the one called Bent.  Gazing unflinchingly at Lucius, Harry listened to their discussion.

"The muggles say that Potter is down here, Malfoy.  Get him and let's go. The Aurors will soon notice that there is something wrong."

"He is not here, Bent."

"What?  We have the right house."

"I'm not saying that we don't, Bent.  What I am saying is that the Potter boy is not here.  Have all the rooms up the stairs been checked?"

"Don't tell me how to do my job, Malfoy."

"Merlin forbids I try to do that. Since there is nothing left to see, let us get out of here. You can tell our master of your failure."

And without a second glance, both men left the quivering teenager in the corner.  Just before Lucius turned at the corner of the door, Harry saw him make another wand movement and then he was alone again.  Harry crawled slowly to the door to eavesdrop on the Death Eater's leaving, but when he got the door, he was too tired to make it up the stares.  As he tiredly rested his back against the door, Harry could hear his uncle's screams as Lucius Malfoy subjected him to crucio curses in the wizard's bid to obtain information about Harry's whereabouts.

When they left, Harry stayed where he was in complete surprise and bafflement.  'What was that all about?'  His ever present inner voice asked and he couldn't answer. He knew that Malfoy had seen him, and he deduced that the spell Lucius had cast before Bent came down hid him from the other man. Why?

There was no love lost between Harry and Lucius Malfoy, so why did the other man protect him.  Even to the extent of cursing his uncle for his absence while Lucius knew exactly where Harry was.

When Harry got stronger, he slowly got up and sent Hedwig to Dumbledore with an accounting of what had happened.  His inner voice cautioned him against telling the old wizard about Lucius' odd behaviour, so he kept it to himself.

Later in the morning, Harry went up to the living area of his family and saw his uncle curled up against himself, still shaking from the effects of the cruciatus curses that had been placed on him hours earlier.  Mindful of waking him, Harry tiptoed to the kitchen and started making their breakfast.  He'd almost finished when they joined him in the kitchen, anger evident on their faces.  If Harry looked very hard, he was sure that he could see the veins on Vernon's face and they were about to burst.

"Boy!! Did you go out again last night?"

"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry told the fat man that was standing before him.

"Liar." Slap "How dare you lie to me, after everything you put my family through?"

Harry held on to the side of his face that was hurting and answered his uncle.  "I'm not lying, Uncle Vernon.  I didn't go anywhere last night."

"You're not lying, huh.  So where were you when your freakish people came looking for you?"

"I was in my room."

"Don't be smart with me, Boy.  Two of those freaks went down there looking for you and they said they didn't find you.  Because of that, my family was put in danger.  How dare you lie to me?"

"I'm not lying, Uncle Vernon.  I promise."  Vernon went steadily redder as Harry denied all his accusations.

"I thought you knew the penalty for leaving the house, Boy. It's time to teach you a lesson you'll never forget."  After saying this, Vernon pulled Harry down the stairs and gave him twenty-five lashes, making him count every single one of them.

By the time the old man finished, Harry could barely move. He just lay there with the whole of his back stinging, as well as his face, from the slap.  He tried crying, but that didn't relieve the pain in his body and in his heart.  While he lay there, Harry cried himself to sleep and woke up very late in the afternoon.  He felt like his back was on fire and every move he made, felt like he was adding fuel o the fire, so he lay back and buried his head in his pillow.

This continued till late in the evening, and Harry started getting worried.  His thought was that by now, Dumbledore had received his owl and would have checked to find out if he was okay.  It wasn't quite midnight, when Hedwing returned with a response from his headmaster.

The letter told him that he should expect the headmaster the next day, by which time, the wards around the Privet Drive home would have been re-enforced to keep out future uninvited visits.  Harry was also told that if anything else out of the ordinary occurred, he was to make his way to Mrs. Figg, his old babysitter.

Harry read the letter and put it aside, he couldn't stand so he went straight back to sleep.  He hadn't eaten all day.  When Harry woke up early the next morning, he discovered that movement was possible, albeit minimal.  At his window, there was an unknown owl waiting for him.  He received it and removed the parcel attached.

It contained a potion bottle and a short note.

Harry's first thought when he saw it was one of suspicion.  He didn't know anyone called Darmok and how would anyone know that he needed a healing potion?  He'd spent the last day hidden in the basement, and the only magical person that could have seen him had been … 'Lucius.'  His inner voice told him.

Okay, if he went with the assumption that it was Lucius that sent the potion, then why was the blonde wizard behaving so uncharacteristically?  First hiding him from Voldemort, and now offering him healing potions.

In his nightmare, Harry had seen the price Lucius had paid for the Death Eaters' failure in capturing him, and this added to his confusion.  What was Lucius doing? And why was he doing it.

These questions rattled around Harry's brain as he tried to decide whether or not to take the healing potion.  The young teenager had decided not to take any chances, considering that it might be a poison, but when it proved extremely difficult to get from his bed to the door, he changed his mind and took the required dosage.  It tasted different from what Madam Pomphrey usually gave to him, but it worked almost immediately.  More comfortable, Harry went up to the kitchen and made his family their breakfast.

It was obvious that Vernon was still quite angry, but the older man was satisfied with ignoring him.  The same couldn't be said for Dudley, who found different reasons to push Harry around the kitchen in his bid to sit at the table and have his breakfast.  When they finished, Harry did the cleaning and hurriedly did his own eating.  Since the elder members of the family were ignoring him, he returned to his room and started reading his new books.  

For Harry, reading them for the sake of reading them was like discovering magic anew and he was so engrossed that he hardly noticed the time pass.  His next moment of awareness was when his aunt called him frantically.  He made his way to the living room and found his headmaster waiting.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Hello Harry. I'm glad to see that you're okay."

"I'm fine, I was expecting you earlier, is there something wrong?" he asked the old wizard at the sight of the man's frowning countenance.  Dumbledore just looked at his aunt speculatively, and she caught on that they wanted some privacy, so she left the living room, mumbling beneath her breath.  When they were on their own, Dumbledore cast a silencing charm about the room before sitting before him.

"What happened here, Harry?"  Harry told him al that he could beginning with his trip to Diagon Alley and what he knew about the Death Eaters' actions while they were in his home.  When he finished, he looked at the Dumbledore but the older man was still frowning.

"What is wrong, Professor?"

"Harry, I thought you understood that this was the safest place for you to stay during the holidays? Due to the protections placed on it, you were not to enter the wizarding world unless told otherwise."

"I did, Professor," Harry answered the man, slightly apologetic.

"Then why did you go to Diagon Alley?"

"I just needed some books, Professor. And the only place I went to was Flourish & Blotts."

"Did you think of owling one of your friends to send you some?  I'm sure that Miss. Granger would have been happy to assist you."

"No. … I didn't ask them, but I wanted to choose the right books."

The older man took a deep breath and looked at Harry, slightly disappointed.

"Harry, I don't know how else to impress upon you the seriousness of this situation.  Now that Voldemort has been given a new body using your blood, the safety left by your mom has been nullified, so he can touch you and that increases your level of danger.  These are your blood relatives, Harry and it is through blood that most of the protections are placed.  We're still trying to find out how they could cut through the protection, even if you led them here. But until we do that, you must stay here."

"Yes, Professor."

"Do you think you'll be needing anything else?"

"No, Professor.  Not until I receive my fifth year list."

"That's fine then.  You have just over month to go, Harry. And you'll be spending the last week with the Weasleys, so you can do your shopping at that time."  The smile on Harry's face could brighten the darkest night, "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

"You're welcome, Harry.  This time, wait till either of the Weasleys comes to get you.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, Professor. I'm really sorry," Harry apologized sincerely and was gratified to see the twinkle return to Dumbledore's eyes.

"Apology accepted, young Harry, but things have changed.  You need to be more careful and more aware of everything around you.  Now, you say that your dream of Voldermort's meetings?"

"Yes, Professor.  It's no longer every night, but sometimes, when his meeting is very intense, I dream about it and feel some of the curses."  There must have been something in his voice, because Dumbledore suddenly looked into his eyes, "what else, Harry?"

"Sometimes I dream of the third task," Harry told him solemnly.  Dumbledore then placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to commiserate, "Harry, as your headmaster and friend, I must tell you that I am sorry that you had to go through that.  No child should.  But you have to understand that it was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done to save Cedric's life."

"It shouldn't have happened, Professor."

"No it shouldn't have.  One thing you have to bear in mind though is that the fault lies not with you, but with Voldemort.  And you shouldn't feel guilty about it."

"…,…, it's not easy though, Professor."

"No.  The most worthwhile things aren't.  I'll see you at Hogwarts."

"Thanks Professor, bye."  

Harry's headmaster left and the young boy made his way to the kitchen.  His aunt had set out his lunch and he hurried through it before returning to his room.

When Harry's uncle returned from work, he came straight down to the basement and pulled him up the stairs.

"I heard that one of your other freaks was in my home."

"I'm sorry Uncle Vernon, it was just my headmaster coming to find out about _"

"_I don't care who he was and what he wanted," Vernon interrupted him.  "I've told you before not to bring your freakish things into my home.  You ungrateful brat. We feed you, we clothe you and give you a roof over your head, but that is not enough for you and your kind is it?"

"Uncle Vernon," Harry started but his uncle interrupted him with a shout.

"No. Not any more. I've put out enough for your kind; I've even suffered for you. I will not put my wife and son in danger.  I don't ever want to hear or see anything about your abnormality anymore.  Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"You will receive ten lashes for this, I don't want you to forget."

"No, Uncle Vernon."

They went down the stairs and Harry's punishment was administered.  This was the most that he'd been flogged in the space of a week, and Harry was doubly grateful for the potion that Lucius sent. Unfortunately, he had just enough left for one dosage, so future punishments would be dealt with as he had done in the past.

The next week went slowly for the teenage boy-who-lived, and he spent most of his time getting used to his magic books.  His biggest drawback was that he was unable to practice but he was glad to understand magic and what it meant.  He was even able to appreciate the art of Potions, something he didn't think would ever be possible.  

If he were able to, the one thing he would have gone to Diagon Alley for would have been potion ingredients, because there was no wand waving magic involved in it to alert the ministry.

By the time Harry's birthday came round, he felt like he was ready to be a fifteen year old.  He was glad to receive his birthday presents from Ron, a book on the newest quidditch moves being made; from Hermione, he got a book on Curses and Hexes.  From Sirius, he got a book on transfiguration dealing particularly with Animagus training and from Hagrid, he got the usual Rock Cake.  Ron's letter invited him to stay at the Burrow for the last week of the summer holiday, so he had something to look forward to.

On the evening of his birthday, Harry decided to inform his family of the change in his holiday plans.

"Uncle Vernon."

"What do you want, Boy?"

"I just wanted to tell you that my friends will coming to pick me up on the 24th of August.

"What friends?"

"The Weasleys," Harry told the large man quietly.  Vernon stood and pulled at Harry's left hand in anger shouting at him.

"The same friends that hurt my boy?  What?  You want to hurt him again?  Won't you be satisfied until you kill us."

"I didn't mean to hurt him, Uncle Vernon.  I'm sorry."

"Sorry? I have a good mind not to send you back to that school because whenever you come back, you return with more problems." Harry's uncle shook him as he said this, and unluckily for the teenage wizard, Dudley went past him at that time pushing him hard.  When Vernon saw this he let go of Harry, making him loose his balance and fall.  When Harry tried to break his fall with his free hand, the right one, he couldn't.  Instead, they all heard two snaps as he broke his wrist and as they would later discover, a femur.

Vernon winced at the sound but Harry screamed in pain.  He sat where he fell cradling his whole right arm with tears running down his face.

"What have you done?" he looked up at Dudley in question. The other boy's face had gone white as he shook in fear.

"It wasn't my fault," Dudley stammered out.

"You pushed me."  Harry accused him and by now, Vernon had come out of him momentary stupor and stared down at Harry. "Why don't you ever stop lying?  You deliberately hurt yourself so you could blame my Dudley.  How very like you."

"I'm not lying, Uncle Vernon.  He pushed me."

"I was right here and I didn't see anything like that.  And if I hear you say such a thing again, I won't be getting you to a hospital. So what happened?" Harry kept silent.

"I asked you a question, Boy.  What happened?"

"I tripped and fell." He then muttered to the waiting man.

"Make sure you don't forget that when they ask you in the hospital."

For Harry, the trip to the hospital was an exercise in pain.  It felt like his uncle tried to enter every pothole in the road shaking his broken arm at every instance. The only thing that could be done for him at the hospital was to place his right arm from elbow to wrist in a cast and ask him to return in two months to have it removed.  He was also given some painkillers and sent home.

To keep him happy, the Dursleys avoided him for the rest of the summer and Harry tried to get around with a cast on his arm.  Since his right arm was his primary arm, he used the time to learn how to not depend on it. After three weeks, his left arm got stronger and he started doing smallest things with it.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

By the time the Weasleys came to pick Harry, he'd gotten a lot more comfortable with his body balance.  He told everyone the same story that about how it happened, that he slipped and fell.  Hermione was the only one who looked like she didn't believe him but none of them said anything to contradict him.

His nightmares were a lot quieter, which meant he didn't wake his friend's family at night but he was still having a field day at Voldemort's meetings.  He even saw when Professor Snape returned to the Death Eater circle.  It was debatable whether Voldemort believed in the Potions Master's sincerity, but he cursed him multiple times in welcome.  When Harry woke up from that, he suspected that Professor Snape was a spy, accounting for Dumbledore's belief in him.  All the same, Harry felt that the price he paid for spying was quite high.

They made plans to do their school shopping on the 28th and while going down the floo, Harry mistakenly appeared at Knockturn Alley.  He realized this when he came out from the fireplace to discover that he wasn't at the expected location.  Everywhere was darker and he didn't like the faces he was seeing.  But before he could turn round and return through the fireplace, a wizard got hold of his good arm and he turned to see a face he recognized from spying on Voldemort.

"My master will be pleased.  You escaped us once but not again.  I can't wait for the reward I'll get for bringing you in."  After saying this, the man started laughing maniacally.  Harry turned round to see if there was anyone who could help him, but no one even reacted to the ruckus they caused.  The laughing wizard dragged Harry out of the pub they were in and as they got outside, Harry kept trying to find help without success.

"Let me go," he told the man, trying to pull away and dragging his feet. But the man only strengthened his hold.  "Let you go? When I can feel the taste of my success, I don't think so, Potter.  Let's go."

Harry's reticence slowed their forward motion, but not by much and just as they reached the front of a Potions shop, it opened.

"Reeve! What are you doing?"  Harry and his captor heard a voice call out to them as the door opened.  They stopped there and for the first time, Harry felt a tinkle of reprieve at the sight of the elder Malfoy.

"Oh Malfoy.  Look what I found.  Our master is really going to reward me for this, don't you think?"  The man called Reeve smiled at Lucius in satisfaction.  They remained at an impasse for a moment then Lucius drawled at the man,

"What I think Reeve, is that it would have been better for you if you'd never found him."  Whipping out his wand, Lucius cast in one smooth move, "Obliviate," and pulled Harry straight into the shop.

Harry blinked in surprise and looked at his somewhat dubious rescuer, "Why did you do that?"

"I would appreciate it if you kept you mouth shut, Mr. Potter."

"Why?  What are you going to do with me?"

Harry knew that he should have been more afraid and while he was, he also knew that this was the safest he could be as long as he remained in Knockturn Alley.  Lucius ignored him for a moment, then picking something from his pocket, the dark wizard created a portkey, and the next thing Harry knew, he felt the trademark tog at the pit of his stomach and opened his eyes to find himself in a strange room.  Considering his lack of success when using portkeys, it was no surprise that as soon as he felt whole; he struggled from his captor's hands.

"Stop struggling."

"Leave me alone."

"I would suggest Harry Potter that you stop struggling and calm down."

"Calm down? Why should I?  I don't know where I am and the last time I used a portkey, I didn't exactly like the outcome."  Harry screamed at Lucius indignantly.

"Potter,"  Lucius started, and as if realizing that Harry's right hand was in a cast he blinked and asked, "What happened to your arm?"

"I tripped and fell.  It broke."

"I'm sure.  That is your wand arm isn't it?"

"What's it to you? Why am I here?" Harry asked the man insultingly.

"Would you have preferred to go with Reeve?"  Lucius scathed at him.

"No, I would have preferred not to deal with any of you, thank you very much."

"Then keep out of Knockturn Alley in the future."

"Hey, it wasn't deliberate, you know.  I was trying to floo to Diagon Alley and it took me there."

"For the second time?"

"Wha…?  How did you know that?"  Harry asked Lucius, surprised.  Lucius ignored him and pointed at the fireplace.

"Maybe it's trying to tell you something.  Now, about that thing on your hand, why haven't you taken it off?"

"It's helping my hand heal."

"The muggle way.  Why didn't you use the Potion I sent you?"

"Potion, You?  Darmok?"

"Lucius Darmok Malfoy, at your service.  You haven't answered my question."

Harry blinked twice at the knowledge that Lucius was his benefactor and then answered, "It was finished."

"So with your hand incapacitated, how do you use your wand?"

"I don't do magic outside school, I'm a student remember?  And anyway, I'm used to it now."

"Used to it.  And if you were in trouble, how would you protect yourself?"

Harry shrugged at the angry man before him and didn't answer.

"It would be in your best interests to make sure that thing is removed as soon as you return to Hogwarts or do you have no concept of your own safety?"

"Okay.  I was going to do it anyway.  I didn't want to disturb the Weasleys so I'll have Madam Pomphrey remove it.

They remained silent for a time and then Lucius looked at him speculatively, "I imagine that since your primary arm is out of order, you have been getting along with your left arm.  Have you considered using your wand with your left arm incase the right one becomes incapacitated again?"

"Why?  My arm will soon be fine so I don't need to use the left for big things."

"I presume that since this wasn't deliberate, it could happen again, so what happens then?"

"…, …, …"

"Practice using your left arm to do the major things as well, it should come in handy one day.  Come, its time to get you to Diagon Alley before your 'friends' tear the place apart looking for you."

"Um, thanks. … Why did you help me?"

"I didn't think you were ready to meet the dark lord.  Perhaps I was mistaken."

"No, No. That's not what I meant, but why did you help me?  Why you?"

"And why not me?"  Lucius asked him, his face perfectly bland.

"Because, … you're a Death Eater, that much I know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes.  I saw you there when Voldemort was resurrected and you were at my house when the Death Eater's attacked."  Harry told Lucius with conviction in his voice.

"Yet there is much that you still do not know, young Harry Potter."

"What do you mean?"

"Your time is up."  Lucius threw some floo into the fireplace and called out the destination, "The Three Broomsticks."

When Harry tumbled out, he realized that he was the only one that came out.  Lucius wasn't there and his friends were looking at him worriedly.

"Harry!"  Ron and Hermione called out in unison.  He turned to look at them and they hugged him tightly.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked him,

"Yeah Mate, Where were you?  We've been looking everywhere."  As both teenagers released him from their hugs, Harry couldn't help feeling somewhere in his heart that he would have liked to remain with the man in that room, who wasn't as exuberant as the teenagers before him.

"I got lost, and was just able to find my way back, sorry about worrying you."

"That's okay, mate, we just thought with you-know-who, we can't be too careful." Ron told him and then Hermione interjected, "So where did you get lost to?"

"A strange fireplace, luckily I found some floo and got back."  Harry told them dismissively and then inquired about the rest of their party.  His misdirection worked and they went on with their shopping.

It was somewhat inconvenient for Harry to carry the things he bought, and for the umpteenth time, Molly Weasley offered to remove his cast.  He once again declined, but this time, did it with the weight of Lucius' advice at the back of his mind.  His friend noticed his slight pre-occupation as he tried to discern the dark wizard's motives and questioned him about it, but he didn't have an answer for them.  

How could he tell them that Voldemort's topmost Death Eater just saved him from being captured for the second time? They wouldn't understand.  He didn't understand.

The rest of his time at the Burrow was relatively calming, as he curtailed his sleep at night to avoid waking his friend.  During those hours, Harry continued with his extracurricular reading, and added practicing holding his wand with his left hand.  He didn't perform any magic; rather he became conversant with the feel of his wand in his left hand.

During the first week of Harry's fifth year, he took the time to subtly study Draco Malfoy to see if there was any way he could figure out the boy's father by understanding the son.  This study yielded nothing, as Draco was as much a Slytherin as Harry was a Gryffindor.  They taunted and insulted each other at every opportunity so Harry received no help from his Slytherin rival.  It never even occurred to him to ask, because he didn't think he would receive an answer so he concentrated on his schoolwork.

Madam Pomphrey had called him into the hospital wing wanting to cure his arm but he turned her down, giving her the excuse that he would have preferred to have it healed the muggle way, and that since he barely had a month left to have it on, he could have it removed then.  She directed him to the headmaster and when Harry tried to give him the same excuse, Dumbledore turned him down and told him to make the best of the magic available to him.  Dumbledore also told him that it would be more difficult to have his lessons if his wand arm was incapacitated.

With the decision taken out of Harry's hands, the cast was removed, but Harry was still determined to strengthen his left arm.  He may not have the left as strong as the right, but he wanted it strong enough for him to get by.

The additional reading that Harry did during the holidays helped him with his lessons so that he wasn't so dependent on Hermione.  That didn't stop him from allowing her bully both he and Ron into going to the library whenever she could, but he looked at it as an added opportunity to spend time with his friends.  His nightmares hadn't receded in their potency, but they weren't as frequent as they were when the holidays started.  The difference this time around was that he was able to cast a silencing spell around his bed so he didn't wake his dorm mates.  Instead when he woke up from his nightmares, he spent about an hour in a room trying to strengthen his left arm.  It was a habit he'd picked up at the Dursleys, when he would try anything during the night hours, so that he wouldn't attract the wrath of his muggle family.  This continued at the Weasleys where he practiced with his wand and quickly became a habit.

The first time he spent the rest of the night in the common room, he'd woken up to see Hermione looking at him in worry, so he kept away from the common room.  The next time he woke up from his nightmares, he picked his wand, invisibility cloak and Marauder's map and left the Gryffindor tower.  After a brief walk, he found himself an unused classroom where he did his practice till he was tired enough to sleep.  This quickly became a usual occurrence, but Harry made sure that he returned to his bed before his mates woke up.

Their Hogsmeade visits were reinstated a month after the students returned to school, but was restricted to only 5th years and above.  On the first Hogsmeade weekend, Harry didn't need to buy anything but decided to keep his friends company so they left early that Saturday.  When they got there?  There was no obvious evidence of Voldemort's rise but Harry could see some furtive looks in people's eyes.  

Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Honeydukes store and went straight to 'The Three Broomsticks' for some butterbeer.  When they finished and were on their way out, Harry caught sight of Lucius Malfoy as he went past them but the other man completely ignored his presence.  This miffed the teenager, as he expected the older man to acknowledge him in some manner.  When this happened, his lost all enjoyment of the afternoon and encouraged his friends to return to the school.  When they got there Harry went straight to a corner of the common room and tried to wonder whey Lucius completely ignored him.  It was unlike what the other man had done all summer, so why?

'Why should he acknowledge you?' the voice in his mind asked him and he couldn't answer.
'What did he really expect Lucius to do?'  The voice asked again and he couldn't answer that either.

Actually, with Lucius, he couldn't answer any of his questions.  The only person who could do so, was Lucius himself and he had no idea how to find the dark wizard and ask his questions.

It occurred to him once again that he might achieve his aims by talking to Draco, but he quickly nixed that idea as foolhardy.  Draco had no incentive to believe that he wasn't out to harm Lucius, and considering their rivalry, why would Draco tell him anything?

Harry spent the next week in between studying, trying to figure out a way to contact Lucius.

Flooing was quickly discarded as an option because Harry thought that there was always the possibility that he would floo into a room where Lucius was not on his own.

An owl could be interrupted but after a time, Harry decided that it was the only option available to him.  He then decided to send a note hat was not easily decipherable by everyone.

It was short enough for Lucius to understand and he signed it in that manner because he didn't want to put his name to any correspondence between Lucius and himself.  He used one of the school owls and instructed it to deliver the message only to Lucius.

He received no reply for about the next three days and waited on tenterhooks.  There was the chance that the Death Eater would completely ignore his letter, but he hoped it wouldn't be that way.

Harry really wanted to understand.  Things had changed for him ever since the resurrection of Voldemort.  Ever since his first year, everything he'd heard and done had been second hand, choices made for him but now, like Dumbledore said, he had to start getting more aware of the world around him.  He needed to determine for himself, what he believed in and his own allies and not just Dumbledore's.

There was no way that he would have anything to do with Voldemort, but after seeing the way Lucius had helped him, he thought that maybe, the world was not as black and white as he'd believed when he was a child.  Then he knew that there was good and there was evil.  He was good and Lucius was evil.  So why didn't the evil man kill him.  He'd had multiple opportunities and he'd saved him at every chance.  'Except at the third task,' that annoying voice inserted, but Harry ignored it, as usual.  There was no doubt in Harry's mind, that Voldemort would have killed him if he was the one, but Lucius didn't, why?

The expected reply came to him a week after he'd sent it.  It took all of Harry's newly discovered ingenuity to keep his friends from reading the letter.

Harry's first reaction after reading the letter was a big smile and an imaginary 'Yes' in the air, his questions were going to be answered.

This was the beginning of his adventures with the Dark Wizard known as Lucius Malfoy.