Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Clair de Lune ❯ Le Mécompte d'une Mère, Renaissance d'une Dette ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter Two:

Le Mécompte d'une Mère,Renaissance d'une Dette

“A Mother's Miscalculation, Rebirth of a Debt”

 

Narcissa stared down at the thrashing body of her son, lips tight, cold with horror. Beside him on the bed was a small unfamiliar boy, who she'd known instantly could only be Lily's son. He looked too much like his mother despite those who claimed he only had her eyes. Narcissa's quivering hand gently stroked both the boys' brows. Draco's was fever hot, while Harry's was cold, so very, very cold. A small whimper escaped them, she didn't know which, maybe both, but it didn't matter she whispered calming words to them both trying to make sure the terror that griped her heart did not take over and leave her useless.

 

Hagrid, who she'd always found uncouth and savage, hovered nearby concerned for both boys, not just his precious Harry Potter, something that redeemed him slightly in Narcissa's eyes. Narcissa leaned over kissing Draco's forehead, stroking his now messy white-blond hair as she'd done when he was a child. He stilled and for a moment his breathing paused causing Narcissa's heart to stop for the eternity between the pause and his next weak breath.

 

“Mommy,” he whimpered so quietly she barely heard it. Narcissa felt like crying. She hadn't heard those words pass her child's lips since he was barely a year old. Narcissa fought her impulse and instead cast a cooling spell on him before tucking the blankets more tightly around Harry's petite body, performing yet another warming charm on him. A knock interrupted Narcissa's work and with an impatient wave of her hand Hagrid answered it to find a very grim Tom standing on the other side with two steaming mugs on the tray he held.

 

“They won't be able to drink that,” Narcissa said dully, not able to get up the right amount of annoyance at the man's stupidity. Tom nodded his eyes sympathetic as he handed one of them to Hagrid.

 

“Not for the boys Missus,” the barkeeper told her, crouching down and putting the warm mug in her hand. “It's an energy replenishing potion, with a bit of my best whiskey in it. You're doin' a good thing Missus, but you'll be useless if you work yourself too hard.” Narcissa simply nodded an odd lump forming in her throat at the simple gesture. She was touched despite herself. She knew very well that Tom had hated her just as much, if not more than the general population, because of her sister's hand in his son-in-law's death. To have him of all people be the first person in years, besides Lucius, to treat her like she was a fellow human being was almost too much.

 

“T-thank you,” she finally croaked out, it came so silent she worried he didn't hear, but he nodded, patting her shoulder in a comforting manner.

 

“The room's free Missus, it's the least I can do for you.” Then after sending a concerned look in the boys' direction he left. Narcissa watched the closed door a few more minutes before taking a sip of her drink. The liquid sent fire through her veins and in an instant her weakness from before was gone. Looking at the boys and hearing Hagrid's gentle sobbing start again, Narcissa leaned foreword, then placing her arms on the bed she laid her chin on her them and watched. It was all they could do for now.

 

…

 

Everything was hot. Hot and painful. It was as if Draco was being burned alive a thousand times at once. But slowly as the eternity passed it began to slow. Fading from a heat that rivaled the sun to the delicate stinging of sunburn. Draco laid wherever he was for a long time, weak from what had just occurred and feeling the sun's heat beating down through his eyelids. He was somewhere vey sunny and uncomfortable. The boy shifted trying to get away from the gritty substance in his clothes. As he did his hand brushed what he laid on, it was soft and coarse. Surprised Draco dug his hands down feeling the warmth, quit gentle compared to what he'd felt, dim as he dug until his hand was cocooned by the grainy substance. Sand. He was laying on sand.

 

Opening his eyes, now thoroughly confused as to why he was here instead of at St. Mungo's or the manor, he flinched against the bight light. After a few moments his eyes adjusted and he realized he was in a desert. A desert of red sand. Looking up he saw a velvety blue sky that faded to pale periwinkle on the horizon. The sun hung in the sky, much lower than it was supposed to, and Draco's eyes widened as he saw a pale silver moon, rip and full, beside it. Regaining his composure the boy stood and began looking around for something, anything to tell him where he was. It was the same in every direction. As Draco took a cautious step foreword suddenly the wind picked up, and his vision was blocked as he threw up his arms to shield himself. Finally the sand storm faded and Draco warily peeked out to find a change in scenery.

 

He was at the edge of the desert and looking at a magnificent pool of crystal clear water, gleaming silver in the mixture of sun and moon beams. Draco, feeling how parched he was bent down and scooped up a bit of the liquid to drink, but instead watched fascinated as it streamed through his fingers, the silver shining iridescently with more colors than Draco could imagine. The boy repeated the process, but accidently spilled a few drops on the dry ground. His eyes widened as rich, healthy foliage instantly grew where the water touched.

Draco smiled touching a delicate red flower that began to bloom. It was stripped with gold along its five long spiraling petals. Leaning foreword Draco smelled it to find the lingering odor of his mother's perfume, ink, and the scent of the stars. Draco leaned back, looking around amazed at the paradise he'd found, before plunging his hands in to satiate his growing thirst.

 

The water lost its earlier gentle warmth and was now cold, colder than the worst snowstorm, than the ocean in the arctic, than the moon. Draco shivered as the ice spread through his hands. He almost didn't drink, but his throat burned and he raised the liquid to his lips. The went numb instantly and he barely managed to swallow. As soon as he did though the burning was gone, and the sting from earlier. Draco sighed with relief before something caught his eyes. Underneath the water caught on the very bottom, was a small boy. A familiar small boy. Potter.

 

Draco smiled gleefully watching Potter struggle unable to rise from the freezing water. Finally he would pay for everything he'd done. Yet despite his vindictive pleasure at the thought of being rid of him, Draco hesitated to whoop with joy. If he sat aside, he'd die. Nobody could bring him back. Draco would be a murderer. The thought did not sit well with his stomach, but he told himself it was just a dream after all. How else would he suddenly be in the dessert and find paradise. It wasn't real…

 

But the heat, the pain had felt so real, and the cold. It must be very dark down there. Very dark and cold. Draco almost wanted to jump in, almost, but he sat. The memory of his mother's face burning in his mind, the worry of drowning in the dark, and the feel of the cold keeping him still. Potter deserved this, he told himself firmly. It was jus a dream after all.

 

As Draco stood by watching those green eyes dim he suddenly felt his own breath stop. He's sight disappeared and he tried to scream only to be muffled by something freezing, turning him to ice. He was dying, slowly dying, drowning in a dark pool all alone…

 

And then he was back laying on something gritty and soft being burned alive.

 

It didn't take Draco long to realize what was going on. After a few more instances of not saving Potter he knew. Dive in or die again. So the blond boy was standing by the pull, taking off his heavy robes so they wouldn't drag him down. The water was colder than he expected and steadily grew murkier the closer he got to Potter. The boy's green eyes watched him and Draco felt a hot flash of hate coil in his stomach. If it wasn't for this boy, Draco wouldn't be freezing in the pool or have felt his own death over and over. He didn't want this obligation, but he continued, cursing Potter bitterly the entire way.

 

When he reached him he realized the boy still wore his fitting ropes and they wee caught in a rock. Frustrated Draco began to pull, trying to yank them out. Then he dove to the bottom looking for a sharp rock to ct them with, knowing they didn't have much time judging from the burning in his lungs. Then Potter's thrashing caught his attention. Turning he saw the boy attempting to remove the robes. Feeling extremely stupid, Draco swam back and helped the boy out. Potter nodded his thanks, but his eyes were weak and drooping. Grabbing the boy, Draco began his terrifying way to the top.

 

They almost didn't make it, Potter's eyes closed and he went limp dragging Draco down, just as the other boy was about to lose it, but with one strong push their heads were above water. Then suddenly Draco was elsewhere and it was hot. For the love of-Not again! I saved Potter isn't that what you wanted? Then Draco realized that heat was not from what felt like fire in his veins, but was rather outside his body. Plus unlike before he had the unwelcome addition of a hated coughing boy beside him and Draco was wet. Hating his situation he saw to women in a burning house. Draco's throat closed as he recognized one as his mother, the other was a slender pretty red head, with bright emerald eyes. Draco gaped slightly as he watched his mother and Lily Potter run through a burning building trying to escape.

 

Potter stopped coughing and Draco felt him pull up beside him, silent. Draco ignored his presence and watched the silent scene. Lily helping his mother through the window, leading her away, allowing her to leave. It left Draco speechless as he stared dumbstruck as Lily Potter simply walked through the woods apparently back to civilization.

 

“Who was that? The blond one looked like you?” a voice questioned in Draco's ear. Turning Draco found large green eyes staring at him respectfully, admiringly. Draco felt his stomach twinge with dislike, but he was slowly realizing something with horror. He's mother owed Lily Potter a life debt. And if this occurred during the Death Eater Massacre of 1980, where there was all of three survivors. His mother, her brother-in-law, and Rabastan Lestrange. If it was then, than it meant one thing. Draco Malfoy owed Lily Potter a life debt, because she'd saved him while he was still in the womb. But it also meant, since he was quite sure his mother never repaid it, that this particular debt had passed onto the boy right in front of him. The same one he despised. Draco simply stared at the babbling brunette who now was the center focus of his life until everything faded back to black for the second time that day.

 

…

 

Hagrid wasn't sure what was going on. One minute he was waiting for Harry to finish his fitting and the next Narcissa Malfoy was barreling passed him shrieking like a banshee as Harry and the blond boy next to him fell down. He'd helped Narcissa carry them to the Leaky Cauldron telling her they needed to go to St. Mungo's. But the blond witch hadn't listened and had nearly cursed him when he made to take Harry. So Hagrid had stayed, convinced by Draco's scream and Harry's whimper that moving them was not a good idea. He felt horrible and helpless as he stood nearby crying as Narcissa didn't stop moving, helping the boys anyway she could.

 

Hagrid had neither liked nor trusted Narcissa Malfoy, but knew she was at least better than her sister from Hogwarts. Seeing her so pained over her son though made him feel kinder towards the woman. And seeing her gentle care for Harry and worry over him that was equal to her worry over her son was enough to convince him she in fact deserved the second chance Professor Dumbledore was always offering. A strangled cry drew the half giant's thoughts back to reality.

 

Narcissa was holding her slowly blinking son. Hagrid jumped to his feet and rushed to Harry's side. The boy looked p at him with dazed green eyes. Hagrid almost burst into tears at the sight of the boy, sleepy, but oddly content. Hearing a snuffle that Hagrid had been unable to hold in Harry looked up and broke into a wide grin.

 

“Hagrid!” the boy chirped happily. At this the giant man did burst into tears of happiness, crying until Narcissa quieted him and convinced him that he shouldn't hug Harry until he completely calm so he wouldn't accidently hurt him. His sniffles dying Hagrid realized Harry was beaming and chatting happily the Draco, who unlike Harry did not look completely recovered from his experience. In fact the boy looked half dead. Missing the flash of worry in Narcissa's blue eyes, Hagrid frowned and watched the quiet boy concerned.

 

“Hagrid can you do me a favor?” Narcissa asked him, knocking him out of his worrying. The man looked up. Of course he'd help. She'd just saved Harry after all. Her eyes remained on the boys as she spoke. “My husband should be outside the Quidditch Shop. Tell him I sent you, that everything's alright, Draco just had a relapse and to head home. We'll meet him there.” Hagrid hesitated for a moment, but hen he looked at Harry, who looked as happy as when Hagrid had bought him his owl, which was in her cage nearby. Hagrid nodded deciding he would trust Narcissa, it was the least she deserved, and set out on the unpleasant task of speaking with Lucius Malfoy.

 

…

 

Draco watched his mother cheek over Potter a feeling of numb horror clenching his heart. He didn't completely understand what a Life Debt entitled, but he knew enough to realize it was very serious and it had to be repaid. Draco looked own at his hands, unblemished and white, as if he hadn't just experienced the most excruciating pain. Draco shivered at the memory of it and of what it entitled. He would have to pay it back, but he didn't have to like it. But what could an eleven year old wizard, who hadn't even started Hogwarts do? Draco groaned and threw Potter a hateful look as he spoke shyly to his mother. It was all his fault. Draco's hate flared, burning harder from its recent kindling, but it died when he depressingly realized how futile it was. It still burned under the skin, seething and snarling, but he was too drained to draw it up.

 

His mother looked up at him and her eyes were pained and knowing, she quickly hid it though when she spoke to Potter. “Harry, why don't you go downstairs and pay Draco and yourself something to eat.” Potter looked confused as she handed him money and instantly began protesting that he could pay for his own food and she'd done enough. But her next words silenced any protest.

 

“Don't be silly what is family for?” The silence in the room was startling. Potter looked at his mother with a mixture of awe and slight terror.

 

“F-family?” the boy finally croaked, clenching the money in his hand. Draco frowned noticing the odd strangled tone in his voice as if fighting hope. Draco's thoughts instantly grew dark as he realized that mixed in with his apparent Life Debt, his mother's acknowledgement of Potter meant he had everything working against him. They didn't abandon family.

 

“Yes,” his mother said with a sad, gentle smile, that made Draco burn with a new emotion. Jealousy. “You and I are second cousins. Your grandmother was one of my favorite aunts. Draco and you are third cousins.” Potter gaped at her, before obediently rising to his feet and leaving the room in a daze. His mother stayed in her kneeling position from where she'd been talking to the considerably shorter Potter for a few moments before turning to look at Draco with an expression of such guilt and pain that Draco felt almost guilty for his earlier jealousy. It was clear she loved him more.

 

“Oh, my poor boy, I am so sorry for what I have done to you.” His mother whispered her words carrying across the room hoarsely. Draco bit his lip to hold back venomous words of accusation as she calmed herself and walked over to sit with him on his side of the bed.

 

“How much do you know?” she asked him. He told her very slowly, forcing an emotionless monotone about everything, from the burning to the pool. He didn't even think of withholding the fact he'd left Potter to drown. His mother didn't so much as flinch as he finished his story with watching her escape.

 

“Why didn't Potter act mad at me?” he questioned, blandly. His mother looked thoughtful for a moment before answering quietly.

 

“It seems the entire point of this was to get you to accept that you had o protect Harry, more than likely he couldn't see you and only knew someone else was there when you pulled him out.” She explained calmly. Draco absorbed this with a calm that amazed him.

 

“Why did you tell the oaf to tell Father I had a relapse?” Draco questioned carefully thinking his question through. His mother sighed and looked at him sadly her eyes unconsciously drawn to where his hands fiddled with the blanket's edge.

 

“When you were a little over a yea old, both you and I went through the same experience that just occurred. Except for me, I saw a green eyed baby with messy black hair and a scar. I think it was the Old Magik's way of telling me that I'd failed.” Narcissa looked up from where she'd been staring and met her son's gaze looking forlorn. “It was that day I knew there was an extra connection between Harry and you. That day your eyes had green in them, and no doubt it was when Harry got his gray. I doubt Hagrid could tell, but when I was performing spells on the two of you I sensed something different in your magical cores. You two are connected magically, it was as if some of yours went to him and vice versa.” That explained the feeling from before he fainted at least, Draco decided pessimistically.

 

“What do we do now?” Draco questioned after n eternity of silence.

 

“You must get close to Harry, become friends with him. We can't pay back our debt unless we get close and if I make any more moves Dumbledore will no doubt block me. Because I've acknowledged him as family, it should help sway him, from what I've learned it seems those Muggles,” his mother sneered the word with as much distaste and scorn as she could manage, eyes flashing. “Were far from the ideal care takers.”

 

Draco knew in the pit of his stomach, but refused to give up hope. “We can't be friends if I'm in Slytherin.” His mother looked at him sadly.

 

“You're right, that boy is Gryffindor through and through, just like Sirius.” His mother said the last words, very quietly, but it still made Draco jerk with surprise. Sirius Black had never even been said in his presence before. To have him compare Potter to the shame of the Black Family in such a casual manner was jarring. A nauseas filling clenched Draco and bile rose in his throat as he realized, he, Draco Malfoy would now be the shame of the Malfoy and Black family, right along with his infamous cousin. It was sobering.

 

“Father will be furious.” Draco told her dully, looking at the ground in a daze.

 

“Your father knows, we've been preparing for this possibility for year, we had hoped we wee wrong, but…” his mother's voice broke revealing how stressed she was by the incident. Composing herself she continued. “Your Father will be fine, he understands.”

 

Draco clenched his fists, his anger roaring again. Anger at his parents easy acceptance. Anger at his situation. Anger at how powerless he was to stop it. But above all else, a searing, boiling hatred of Harry Potter, the new most important thing in Draco's life.

 

…

 

Harry lid on his bed in a daze, smiling at himself peacefully. Narcissa—his cousin—had stayed with him and Hagrid, bringing Draco to finish shopping. They'd bought their wands and gathered the little things they missed, before Narcissa and Draco had to `floo' home. Flooing apparently consisted of throwing some powder in fire, that turned it green and yelling the place you wanted to go to. But before they'd left Narcissa had promised to write to him and meet him at the train to Hogwarts. She'd then gone on to explain exactly how to get through, making Hagrid blush when the large man realized, horrified, he'd almost forgotten to tell Harry. Afterwards she'd given him news that had resulted in his happy ballon from earlier returning. She'd promised to owl and explain any thing he wanted to know about the Wizarding World, before telling him to write her if he ever needed anything.

 

Harry was practically bursting with warm ecstasy at the thought of his new family members. Draco had seemed like an arrogant, brat at first, but Harry remembered from his weird experience that Draco had dived in to save him from drowning in the icy water. At first he'd assumed it was a fever dream, but from what Hagrid said about how cold he was he doubted it. Afterwards Draco had been kind of quiet and subdued. Harry suspected he wasn't fully recovered, which was worrying, but considering how amazing Narcissa was about healing people, he was sure she'd make him feel better in no time. Plus Draco listened to him ramble on, Harry remembered with a grin. Harry really wasn't such a chatterbox, but he couldn't help himself. And Draco only seemed to talk when he was answering Harry's questions, patiently and intelligently. Between Hagrid and Draco, Harry now knew about the houses of Hogwarts. Thinking back Harry wondered why Hagrid had seemed so surprised when Draco told him that Harry needed to be in Gryffindor. Shrugging it off Harry's mind drifted to Narcissa.

 

Narcissa was a beautiful woman, but she also seemed sad. Her blue eyes always followed him and Draco worriedly, but then again considering what had happened it was probably natural for Draco's mum to worry about him. Harry's cheeks flushed with happiness as he remembered she'd also been worried about Harry. It was nice. To be worried about that is. Narcissa seemed really clever too, she'd begun explaining things like how the ministry worked and the types of things they would learn as they walked. Harry rolled over on his bed pulling the blanket around him in a cocoon of warmth. Harry tingled with happiness replaying the joy of his first ay as a wizard over and over, until he was asleep.