Not So Speechless After All Chapter 1, a harry potter fanfic

Title: Not so speechless after all – Sequel to Speechless

Author: La Morraine

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. Any pathetic characters you don't recognise are mine … nothing to write home about .

Pairing: Harry/Lucius

Summary: After running from the wedding Harry must decide how to go on with life. He's harassed by the press and his fans and doesn't really know how to fix the mess he has left behind. Fortunately he's not alone in this ...

AN: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews I've received for "Speechless", the first part of the story. "Not So Speechless After All" is very long and I hope that you'll like it just as much. Please leave me a note, I'd love to know what you think.

And now have fun reading! ;-)

Not so speechless after all

It was so wonderfully calm around Harry. The sun shone brightly on his face, the warm wind let the leaves of the trees rustle, and not far away from him the shore was lazily caressing the white beach.

Harry was lying in the hot sand, stretching out and thinking of nothing but one thing: he had busted his own wedding.

Sweat was running down his body but Harry didn't care. He had spelled his skin with a sun blocker and had no concerns about getting a sunburn. Originally he had not wanted to think about anything, but that, unfortunately, hardly worked that way.

For three weeks he was already here, hiding from the rest of the wizarding world. He knew that some people would want a word with him as soon as he dared coming back.

But he wasn't ready to go back. He feared meeting Draco but he feared meeting Lucius more. The man had paid an obscene amount of money for the wedding and Harry wasn't done living just yet. He had enough money to pay Lucius back but it would be still a very unpleasant meeting, of that he was sure.

Well, the Caribbean wasn't bad, Harry told himself despairingly. It had nice, long beaches, crystal clear water and wonderful palm trees. The food was light and delicious and the people were very friendly.

Right now Harry wasn't letting anyone meet up with him, though. He had played with the thought of visiting Lee but was sure that it would only cause further mayhem. No, he was quite happy on his small, private island, all by himself.

He did a lot of physical exercise to work off his agitation and self-loathing and he was in the sea swimming at all times of the day. His skin, which coloured easily, had already turned to a dark bronze tone. Not that Harry cared. He was too busy being angry at himself for getting himself trapped like this in the first place.

When it came to feelings Harry knew he was being stupid. He had known that marrying Draco would be a bad idea from the start. And that Lucius had told him to watch out for Draco's possible other lovers hadn't helped at all to keep his cool in this matter.

Harry felt like such a fool. Lucius had warned him, had tried to sugar-coat the truth for him and still he had failed to see it for himself: Draco and Blaise WERE still fraternising with each other! The photo was real, not fake, he had made sure to find that out before that cursed ceremony; he wasn't THAT stupid.

At least, he thought angrily, I managed to get away before it really was too late.

As it was, only the pride of several people had suffered, and a few vaults at Gringotts. Had he married Draco and then decided to get divorced afterwards, things would have become very messy. Divorces in the wizarding world were far more difficult than in the Muggle world and Harry didn't need THAT scandal on top of everything else. All he ever wanted was to marry out of love with divorce being no issue.

Sighing, he rubbed with his hands over his face and then raked them through his hair. He missed his friends and the nights out in a pub or bar or a nice restaurant. He missed his visits at Malfoy Manor and Lucius' understanding company. He even missed Draco, although he hated him just as much.

Before he had arrived here he had sent Hedwig to Mr Pipe, telling him that he wouldn't come to work for an undetermined time. Harry had no illusions about being in Mr Pipe's good graces anymore after that but he wanted to let his employer and friend know anyway. Hedwig had strict instructions not to come to him, no matter who tried to coax her into carrying a letter from them to Harry.

Hedwig was the only bird able to get through the dozens of notice-me-not spells and other obscuring spells and charms. Harry liked his privacy and he knew that the security measures were necessary to keep the nosy reporters out who undoubtedly wanted the whole juicy story from him. Harry was sure that they had pestered Draco, Lucius, Ron and Hermione already and hoped that they had hexed the annoying lot to hell.

After another while Harry felt too hot to lie around much longer. He got up, dusted his sandy, white beach trousers off and then took them off, folded them carefully and set them on a palm tree leaf before he sprinted into the warm water to cool himself off.

The water was very clear, except for a few crabs and sea snakes, who were talking to Harry amiably. They found him obviously just as interesting as he found them, so a friendship had quickly been established during those weeks here. Harry told them tales about England and Scotland and about all the magical beasts he knew, and they entertained him with stories about the sea in return.

Swimming always helped to calm him down but Harry's blood pressure was promptly rising again when he had barely set one foot out of the water.

A colourful toucan was waiting for him, sitting comfortably on his trousers and cocking its head inquiringly. Cursing under his breath, Harry stalked up to it, dripping all the way. Without even greeting the bird he picked it up roughly and spotted the letter that was tied around its left leg. The toucan squawked pleasantly.

"Oh, shove off you ruddy thing," Harry muttered in agitation when he had his letter. The toucan looked wounded and flew off clumsily, but not without screeching an insult at Harry.

He hardly dared to open it. Part of him already knew what it would say. The only question was, who was it from? Ron and Hermione knew him well enough to leave him alone when he really needed his peace and quiet. And Draco … well, Draco wouldn't write him. Harry scowled. The bastard had better not, in any case! Gringotts was out as well, they never wrote to him, they updated him when he was in the bank. Less significant people didn't know how to find him. Their letters would return unopened. That only left a handful of people.

Plopping down into the sand wearily, Harry unfolded the letter and started reading.

Owl from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, August 20th 2005

Harry,

How are you? You left rather in a hurry and I wondered if you managed to get yourself killed yet.

I tried to convince your bloody owl to take my letter but she only tried to rip my fingers off, so I rented an international delivery owl. I told it to use any means necessary to get this letter to you or else; not that you're wondering overmuch if this letter actually DOES reach you.

Weasley and Granger came to me as soon as you were gone and threatened to strangle me if I didn't tell them where I hid you this instant. Those dunderheads, I was hard-pressed not to hex them into next week. You may thank Severus that he hindered me to do it. His paramour wouldn't have been too happy with me – I think that was the only reason why he kept me from beheading these imbeciles, though - Weasley might have banned him to the dog house for a third time if he didn't.

The whole entourage was in a delightful uproar once you left, so you shouldn't be surprised about possible greeting committees when you decide to come back. The press was having a field day, at any rate.

Personally, I'm far from scolding you, since it would be nothing but hypocrisy if I did, Harry, but let me tell you this: if you decide to get it on with my son again, then warn me beforehand. I'll move to South Africa and cut all ties that might still exist between us.

With kindest regards,

Lucius

Harry groaned and flopped on his back. Of all the people on this planet, Lucius Malfoy had to find his way to him. He must have threatened the poor owl with everything he had to make sure that Harry got the letter.

Scowling, Harry conjured a quill and some parchment with a wave of his hand. He might as well answer the bastard, at least his whereabouts would be safe with him.

Toucan from Harry Potter to Lucius Malfoy, September 4th 2005

Lucius,

Your letter is neither welcomed nor will it prompt me to come back to England anytime soon. I'm seriously considering suing these international owl delivery centres for giving addresses away without my consent.

To answer your implied question: I'll never, ever start anything with Draco ever again, of that you can be assured.

And you, you fucking BASTARD, why DID you wait until the last moment to show me your proof? Damn you and your stupid, chivalrous notions of fair play and letting me find out on my own that my fucking FIANCÉ is CHEATING on me behind my back! Do you ENJOY wasting money on a wedding that was bound to fail? You KNEW, you bastard, you KNEW AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!

Oh, don't you DARE coming near me again, or I'll slay you like I've slain Voldemort!

Regards,

The-Boy-Who-Is-Beyond-Furious

Harry snapped his fingers and a very bewildered toucan was sailing involuntarily towards him, squawking in fear. Harry tied his letter to the bird's leg and then stared it in the beady eyes.

"Listen, you impertinent intruder, get that back to Lucius Malfoy. See that only he opens it or there'll be hell to pay. I put a charm on the letter, so I'll know if you failed. Got that?" he asked dangerously.

The toucan nodded piteously.

"Very good. Now off with you. And don't you dare tell other ruddy birds where I am. I'll grill you on a stick if you blab this out. And I mean that, I haven't had a decent meal in days." Harry threw the toucan into the air and watched with some satisfaction as it flew off in a hurry.

Two weeks later …

Harry was just cooking in his open veranda-kitchen when the toucan came back. It landed clumsily on the railing of the veranda and chirruped funnily.

"Wait there until I'm done," said Harry jovially and flipped the vegetables over in the wok. It smelled deliciously of pineapple, potatoes and chicken. Cooking with the wok was always quick, and not even ten minutes later the food was finished and ready to be eaten.

"Now give me my letter," said Harry and beckoned the toucan over. When it had fluttered onto the back of a chair Harry untied the letter from its leg and offered a few pieces of fruit. "Let's see what that idiot wants from me," he muttered.

Owl from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, September 15th 2005

Harry,

I'm flattered that you find me chivalrous but be assured that I'm anything but. My only reason to let you find out for yourself was mere self-preservation. I wanted to avoid being caught in the middle of a rather nasty fight if you got the information from me. Not to mention that you wouldn't have believed me and that your friends would have tried to tell you that I'm only trying to destroy your relationship with my son.

Not that my insightfulness helped me in any way.

You understand that I'm too old to suffer something like this. I had my fair share of intrigues and fights with and because of Narcissa. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I never intended for you to find out like this. Neither was it my intention to cause you such trouble. But I had to do something before you ran headlong into a disaster.

I'm sorry that I sent you that photo so late. I probably should have done so earlier. Would you believe me if I told you that I argued with myself over sending or not sending it to you until the last minute possible? If I ever wanted to avoid something it was meddling with other people's lives.

Oh, Harry, forgive me for acting so foolishly. I'm sorry that I destroyed your wedding (I'm just glad you didn't see the tumult after you left …). How can I make it up to you?

Lucius

Harry snorted. Lucius was asking how to make it up to him? Well, he could never write him again for starters. Ah, well, since there was no way this would happen he would do the next best thing. He would press the man's guilty conscience for what it was worth (if it had any worth, that is).

Setting the letter aside, Harry tried to think about things he could write in his reply. The food was calling to him so he let the letter be for now and busied himself with his dinner. After that he would go swimming for a bit and then he would think properly about his answer.

Toucan from Harry Potter to Lucius Malfoy, September 19th 2005

Lucius,

Don't think I'll be appeased so easily. I'm still pissed and I had quite some time to think the whole thing over. Several times. In fact, more times than I care to think about.

With your non-meddling policy you didn't fare much better than without it, don't you think? This picture alone would have made sure I believe you. But maybe I overestimated our friendship. I thought you knew me well enough to know that I'm not a fool when it comes to this. I work in a friggin' investigation bureau after all.

Well, I thought I knew YOU well enough to trust your judgement, but nothing is for granted, now is it? I guess I'll just mark that down as another disappointment in my life and get on with it.

I have one request, though. Could you please contact Mr Pipe and let him know that I'm well and sorry for being away for so long? I'd like to write him myself but he's a bit of a blabbermouth and I'm not yet ready to go back. I don't even want to think about the rave the press must have had with that blasted attempt at a wedding.

Disappointed,

Harry

Harry sent the letter off and started to pack his things together. He had been in the Caribbean for a good month and a half; it was time to go home. He knew what was waiting for him but he couldn't hide forever. And he really didn't want to, anyway. He needed his friends and his work and the distraction London and other cities could provide.

Before he Apparated back to England, however, he would take another two weeks off and pop to his friends all over the world to see them before they saw him and demanded explanations. Such things were better discussed when both parties were calm and not in a state.

His first stop after Lee was Egypt where Bill proved once again how considerate and helpful he was. Harry was glad to let Bill care for him and soothe his hurt heart but he declined the transparent offer of more attentions and soon moved on to Asia where he visited his former martial arts masters and spent some quiet time, talking with them about life.

Asia was always great because the simple truths his mentors could provide always made him feel much better. Feeling relaxed, he was ready to go on to Romania and see Charlie. The redhead was obviously angry with Snape when Harry arrived because Snape was nowhere to be seen. Charlie was known for literally kicking him out on such occasions. Harry was glad for it, though, he didn't think he could stand being verbally mauled by Snape right now.

Charlie treated him like a second, precious baby sister and over one too many Butterbeers they talked late into the night about the wedding and Harry's reason to bust it. Of course, Charlie understood at once when Harry told him about Draco's liaison with Blaise and was suitably angry on Harry's behalf. What struck Harry as odd, however, was the mention of Snape acting as if he'd tried to help Harry.

"What do you mean, tried to make me see my glaring errors?" Harry asked suspiciously and quite drunk at this point.

Charlie snorted angrily. "Ha, the bastard said he kept that blond ferret and his sleazy companion from coming to your party on time so you'd be angry with them and break the whole deal off. All rubbish if you ask me. He's just trying to get me to forgive him."

After that Harry didn't want to stay any longer in Romania. He told Charlie to let Snape back into the house; after his own relationship-disaster he didn't want to see their relationship suffer because of him. In a way he knew that Snape really had just tried to be helpful - in his own, incomprehensible way.

If only, Harry thought in amused annoyance, Snape could go about things the right way for once. He is not a people person, really.

He Apparated right into his flat in London without any more detours. He hadn't given it up after he had gotten together with Draco, although they had lived together in a house that belonged to the Malfoy estates.

After staying empty for so long, almost two years in fact, a lot of dust had settled on the furniture, in the carpets and curtains. He'd have to get a house elf to get the place cleaned up properly but for now a few spells would do the trick.

First of all, Harry opened the windows to let fresh air in, and then he started to spell his flat clean, changed the bedclothes by hand and made himself a much needed cup of coffee. The sight out of his large windows of the living room was still as wonderful as it had been when he had bought the flat but Harry wasn't really seeing anything right now. He closed it again because it was getting cool now.

This moment of peace brought Harry's troubled mind anything but. He thought about Draco and the catastrophe that their relationship had become. Harry was asking himself why; why was Draco such a selfish, insatiable bastard? They had always had a lot of sex, and certainly more than Harry had with any of his other boyfriends. Why hadn't it still been enough? Was Blaise so much more loveable than him?

Depressed, Harry thought about the same things over and over again. His time in the Caribbean hadn't helped him at all, he realized. He had pondered his situation over and over and OVER again without it doing him any good.

He snorted disdainfully. Couples broke off every day because somebody cheated on their partner; how was he any different? These people just got over it and lived their lives, and he should do the same.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose when he heard a loud clonking noise from the closed window. The day couldn't get any worse, now could it?

The toucan was hitting the window with its overly large beak and looking rather grumpy. The chilly weather was obviously not to its liking. Harry got up and let the toucan in. When he had finally wrestled the letter from the bird's foot he reclined in his armchair again and opened it with stiff fingers. Just what he needed right now.

Toucan from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, September 29th 2005

Dear Harry,

That stupid bird followed me around for half a day before it finally decided to give me the letter. Where did you find it? It's certainly conspicuous; Arthur Weasley actually asked me if I have contact to the Ministry in Trinidad, Tobago. He would like that, the git. I'm not even sure there are living toucans in the Caribbean. Probably not, I'll have to look it up.

Well, rumour has it that you're visiting Weasley and Severus in Romania, or should I say you're visiting Weasley? The last thing I heard from Severus was that they had yet another fallout over you. He's been living with me for the past three days already and I don't see him going back to Romania anytime soon. Maybe you should tell your friend that he shouldn't be so protective over you. Severus will kill me if he hears that I told you that, but it's really getting to him. He loves that brute of a dragon tamer, although I don't really see why, and his aggressiveness is hurting him. All Severus apparently wanted was to help you see your errors but Weasley wouldn't believe him.

It's good to hear that you don't plan to attempt another round with my son. Moving is so expensive, Britain really needs a decent removing company. I wasn't very fond of the thought of having to move to South Africa, anyway. Not when I finished redecorating my manor at long last.

On another note: your Mr Pipe was happy to hear that you're well and coming back soon. He's not angry and awaits you eagerly as soon as you feel up to showing.

I took the liberty of collecting the articles that were published after you left your wedding prematurely. I thought you might find them useful, and if you consider suing that Skeeter woman you can count on me.

Kindest regards,

Lucius

Harry resized the attached small package and sighed when he saw how many articles it really were. Lucius had obviously kept every little snippet he could find. There were, in fact, several hundred of them!

Breathing heavily, Harry grabbed a random slip of paper and read over it. After that he grabbed the next. And then the next. And the next.

After a dozen articles he started to crumple them after reading and throw them into the fireplace. The fire cracked and sizzled with each new ball of paper, eating them with apparent relish. Harry's heart was beating a mile a second and he was sweating, though not from heat but from fear and stress.

Rita Skeeter had outdone herself this time. The Daily Prophet alone had published more than two hundred articles during Harry's absence, and adding to that there were several smaller magazines who had printed their version of the story as well. The content of these columns and stories ranged from heartbreaking and sickly-sweet to raving hate-propaganda with every emotion imaginable in between as well. Both extremes (and even those fitting in between) made Harry sick with worry. What would happen if they managed to catch him unaware?

"Oh, god," he moaned in despair, pulling at his hair. "I'm such an idiot!"

So maybe he DID need Lucius' help with this after all. The man had been hunted by the press just as often as he had been and he knew infinitely better how to keep these vultures at bay. There was no hesitating now, he had to act, as much as he disliked meeting Lucius again. He simply wasn't ready for a confrontation with him yet.

As if on cue, Hedwig fluttered into the living room and landed next to the toucan, eyeing it distastefully. Her wise, amber eyes looked sternly at Harry.

"All right, girl, I'll answer him, but only to test the waters," Harry relented. "He could just pretend to be concerned and in reality he's waiting for me to come out of my cave so he can strangle me."

Hedwig hooted in apparent amusement about his lively imagination. Grunting, Harry got up from his seat and went to search for some parchment and a quill.

"Damn," muttered Harry when he found his stack of parchment moth-eaten and dry. With a quick wave of his hand he produced a scroll of smooth, yellowish-brown parchment and a beautiful, black quill and sat at his desk to compose his letter. He preferred the real thing to the conjured ones because it just wasn't the same. Right now, however, he didn't have much of a choice, the shopping had to wait for later.

Hedwig crooned interestedly, ignoring the toucan next to her that was clicking its beak nervously. Harry read over Lucius' letter again and then started to write …

Owl from Harry Potter to Lucius Malfoy, October 5th 2005

Lucius,

I told Charlie to let Snape back into the house. Honestly, why can't the old bat do something the right way for once, and in the right order of events? Instead the stupid git just springs something at me and expects me to see the deepest truths in his less than understandable actions.

I really appreciate his efforts, though; mainly because I'm too tired and put out to be angry about it anymore. Just see to it that I won't meet him in the near future.

If I may be so bold to ask: how did you manage to get all those articles about the stupid wedding? You must have had help with this.

I'll never stop wondering how a whole population of people can be so crazy about one single person. Some readers' letters were so extreme I thought they'd show at my doorstep any second and demand that I wed Draco this instant and get my mistake redeemed, or kill me.

Sometimes I wonder if wizards and witches even possess a brain anymore, with all the magic they have. One would think they'd use it cleverly but all I see is a gormless lot of selfish, volatile and easily annoyed people who I mostly wouldn't even touch with a pincer if my life depended on it. Somewhere along the centuries of using magic their common sense obviously has gotten lost. It's no great wonder I prefer the company of Muggle born witches and wizards. They still know how to use the brain they were given, but in light of recent events even their vast majority of this so-called population is behaving downright idiotically.

As I see it Rita Skeeter is responsible for a good sixty percent of the articles and most were aiming to harm my reputation. If your offer still stands I'd like to sue her for all that it's worth.

Harry

P.S.: I'm still angry so don't even think I'm going soft.

Harry sent Hedwig off with the letter and then tried to shoo the toucan away, back to the Caribbean or wherever it belonged but the bird simply refused and flew up to the chandelier, out of Harry's reach.

"You know that I can get you if I really want," said Harry threateningly. He had just stretched out his hand to summon the stubborn thing when suddenly a huge rush of wings distracted him.

Owls over owls were shooting into his living room, and most of them were carrying smoking, red envelopes – Howlers!

Harry paled and backed away. Some of the Howlers were already glowing and smoking from not being opened already. Dozens of owls screeched at him to get the letters off their legs and still there were coming more owls, more red envelopes and more smoke.

Soon Harry wasn't even able to see anything anymore. Owls slammed against the walls or against the windows of his flat. He had to do something or his little refuge would burn to cinders!

In a matter of seconds he had spelled the letters off the owls and, with a second spell, let them soar right back out the widely opened window. With a last flick of his wand his windows closed, and not a second to soon.

With a huge BANG, that rattled the windowpanes and doors, the cloud of angry, red letters exploded, setting off a thunderous choir of screeching, enraged voices of all ages and social standings. Harry's ears started to ring as soon as the first voice yelled its opinion of him for everyone into the neighbourhood (and possible the whole population of London) to hear.

"HARRY POTTER, HOW COULD YOU BETRAY OUR TRUST LIKE THIS-"

"Harry Potter, you're a SHAME for our world! Marriage is HOLY, it's supposed to last FOREVER, how COULD you hurt Draco Malfoy like that!"

"MY LITTLE DAUGHTER DREAMED OF MARRYING, AND NOW YOU LEAVE THAT MALFOY IN FRONT OF THE ALTAR! SHE LOST EVERY TRUST IN MARRIAGE THANKS TO YOU!"

"POTTER, HOW DARE YOU STANDING UP DRACO MALFOY! YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL HE WANTS YOU, YOU MUGGLE-LOVING-"

Harry pressed his hands to his ears to protect them from the overly loud, booming voices. Several owls were going crazy in protest and rampaged through his rooms and kitchen, throwing lamps, pots and pans and coffee mugs to the floor with their wings. The shattering and clonking only made the whole ruckus worse.

"-YOU LITTLE SLUT THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN THE REST, DO YOU?"

Harry flicked his wand and put up a strong silencing spell. After that he walked to the fireplace, threw some Floo powder in and called Arthur Weasley's name. He was lucky, the man was in his office; the head appeared with a merry POP.

"Harry, how good to see you again! Wow, you turned so brown! Where have you been?" Mr Weasley rambled, obviously glad to see Harry back alive and well.

"Mr Weasley, I need your help!" said Harry forcefully, interrupting the enthusiastic questioning.

"Oh! What can I do for you?" Mr Weasley asked, slipping easily into his Ministry-mode.

"I'm being swamped with Howlers! I sent them outside but they're exploding and professing their opinion of me all over the district. Can you do something against it before windows are breaking under the pressure and the Muggles get too curious?" Harry sighed tiredly. Sometimes his life just sucked. A bit farther away the first police horns were howling.

"Of course, of course!" cried Mr Weasley, now looking rather alarmed. He vanished shortly from the fire and yelled some instructions at his secretary. When he came back his face was pale and he was sweating. "Harry, I'll come personally and see to that unfortunate situation. Is it possible for an old man to get a cup of tea after the mess is sorted out?"

"Of course, Mr Weasley," replied Harry, relieved that he wasn't flipping at the news.

When Mr Weasley had ended the call Harry slumped back into his armchair and hid his face behind his hands. The whole room vibrated with the screaming the Howlers put up outside. After a few minutes of silent despair he dared to get up again. Sighing, he repaired the damage his flat had suffered and then went to the window to watch the proceedings. Owls were sitting left and right on tables, chairs and cupboards, the chandelier was housing a whole bunch of them.

In horrified amusement he came just right to watch how several Aurors and Ministry Executives on brooms tried to hex the cloud of Howlers to pieces. This, however, was far from easy, given that two Muggle helicopters were circling the whole, strange entourage. Harry even thought he saw several film cameras blink in the dreary light. If the Ministry was very unfortunate they were broadcasting the whole dilemma live right now – what ever would Mr Weasley do to Obliviate so many Muggles?

Harry's hands were itching to do something, to help the men and women outside who were cleaning up his mess. Fortunately he knew well enough that his appearance would only make it worse, so he remained standing at the window and watched apprehensively. What he COULD do, however, was to place a Jolting Jinx on the cameras. They immediately struggled against their holders' grips and fell out of the helicopter like suicidal lemmings.

Feeling little remorse for the damage he had caused, Harry put his wand away again and watched as the witches and wizards outside finished the last Howlers off. The helicopters were still hovering close by, occasionally coming rather close to the flying people on the brooms with their rotor blades. Not soon after everyone had flown off the doorbell rang and Harry went to get it.

Arthur Weasley stood there, looking flushed and angry. Harry quickly beckoned him in before a nosy neighbour could see them.

"By Merlin, has everybody become barking mad?" cursed Mr Weasley, throwing his Clean Sweep 2000 in a corner. "The Aurors had to eliminate over three hundred Howlers! And half of them have already gone off before we even arrived! Don't the people have anything to DO, other than writing inane Howlers?!"

Harry caught Mr Weasley's angrily tossed cloak and put it away orderly on the empty coat rack. His whole flat looked terrible uninhabited, he noticed with sudden embarrassment. Most of the dirt might have gone away but it didn't cover up the emptiness.

"Are you angry at me?" Harry asked in a small voice. "I'm sorry that I caused so much trouble."

"That's not your fault!" Mr Weasley groused. "If anything it was a wise decision to back out when you still could!"

Harry led the ranting man into his living room and offered him one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace. Thankfully he had preserved his tea with magic so he busied himself making tea and giving Mr Weasley the time to cool off for a bit. When he came back his fatherly friend looked much kinder.

"Molly and I won't question your decision," he said when he took Harry's anxious expression in. "We know you never do anything without a reason. Besides, you're certainly not the first young man who's been backing out of a wedding. Marriage is a life-altering decision, no doubts about that."

"I'm still sorry," said Harry dejectedly. "All the troubles you had because of me, and now the stress with these Howlers …"

Mr Weasley snorted. "Believe me, it was all expected. Molly, Lucius and I went through every possible scenario, especially this one. We knew that, whatever was happening, it would make headlines and get the people roused. It's not your fault. You have every right to decide whom to marry, and when, and how." He gulped his too hot tea and sputtered indignantly.

"I'll have to pay Lucius back," said Harry with a deep sigh. "He spent so much money on Draco and me, it's a wonder he hasn't demanded it back yet."

Mr Weasley looked at him tiredly. "Keep this for another day, Harry. No Malfoy is worth getting grey hair before your time."

Harry thought that Lucius Malfoy was worth getting grey hair all right but chose to keep the comment to himself. He was shoulders deep in trouble and didn't need a stupid argument on top of it.

"What will happen now?" Harry asked meekly, dreading the next day and next day's news.

"Keep a low profile," said Mr Weasley, "and don't worry about Howlers. The Ministry will enact a magical close that will send any Howler sent to you right back to the sender."

"Nice," said Harry, and his lips twitched in a small smile. "How are Molly, Ron and Hermione? I'm sorry I didn't write."

"They all know you better than you think they do," interrupted Mr Weasley kindly, drinking the rest of his tea. "They aren't angry, just worried how you took it. And, of course, most curious about your reasons." He smiled broadly. "Can't say that they didn't find your last-second-decision somewhat refreshing."

"Refreshing?"

"Ron never liked Draco, as you well know," said Mr Weasley, raising both eyebrows. "He and Hermione both accepted him but I guess they're glad that he's of no importance to you anymore."

Harry refilled his guest's teacup and gnawed on his lower lip. "I'm glad," he said finally quietly. "I don't know what I'd do if they were mad at me."

"Write them, Harry," replied Mr Weasley and drained his second cup of tea in one go. "Well, I must. Molly is waiting with dinner, and she'll be dying to know what has kept me so long." He got up from the armchair and patted Harry on the shoulder. "You can come with me, of course. You don't seem to have anything here for dinner."

"Oh, no, thank you!" said Harry hastily. "I'll just order something or so, I don't feel up to talking about it just yet. I only got back today and I'm tired."

"Of course," said Mr Weasley genially and ran a hand through his sparse red hair. "Take your time, just not too much. They're waiting for your call."

Harry nodded. "Did 'Mione like my birthday present?"

Mr Weasley laughed loudly. "Her exact words were: 'I'll kill that impossible Potter! How dare he spend so much money on me!' I take it she liked it." His eyes twinkled. "She and Ron have been looking for that kind of nursery equipment for ages."

Harry sighed in relief. "How good that I still seem to get things right these days."

"Don't worry so much about it," said Mr Weasley kindly, smoothing his robes out. "It's your life; it's better to think now about who to spend it with than just wait until it's too late. We'll support you, and Lucius told me just last week that he's going to offer you his juristic advice."

"He just did, and I'll need it," groaned Harry bitterly. "But I hoped that I wouldn't have to see him so soon again."

"I'm sure he won't kill you," offered Mr Weasley in a way of consolation. "Owl me if he's trying anything though, all right?"

"Yeah," sighed Harry.

Both men walked into the hallway and Harry helped Mr Weasley putting his cloak on. When they had bade their farewells Harry's flat seemed to be even emptier than before. It would take quite some time to make it homey again.

After ordering a pizza and thinking about how to best approach Lucius, Harry finally got to bed and fell into an uneasy sleep.

His bedroom was icy when he woke up a few hours later. He had left the window open in case Hedwig returned during the night and needed a place to sleep but she hadn't come back. In her stead a large, imposing eagle owl was sitting on the headboard of Harry's bed and blinking at him with its large amber eyes.

Groaning, Harry crawled over to the owl and freed it of its burden. It was no real surprise to see the Malfoy family crest on the letter. In fact, it even had a comforting effect on Harry. The letter was rather official-looking and right now that was a good thing. Harry broke the red wax seal and unrolled the stiff, heavy parchment.

Owl from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, October 9th 2005

Dear Harry,

Hedwig arrived here last night and I deemed it prudent to answer your letter immediately, especially after I heard about that Howler-incident. The good thing is that now the Ministry of Magic also had a good reason to press charges against that Skeeter woman, because several Muggles saw the Ministry Executives and Aurors terminating the Howlers and called upon their authorities. It was in their news and caused one hell of trouble.

It will also prove helpful to apply for a restriction order against all reporters that might wish to question you. Considering the number of Howlers the Aurors and Ministry Executives destroyed yesterday, we will have good chances of getting our request granted. It won't do to have the public raving about it again if the papers start on your story once more. If you want I will be happy to act as your lawyer but of course I can also recommend a number of other very competent lawyers to you if you wish.

Whatever your decision is, you shouldn't wait to press charges. The Ministry already set up their own script of charge and is practically salivating for you to join them. Arthur is leading the action and will make it suitably public.

Please answer ASAP so I can send you the necessary forms.

With kindest regards,

Lucius

Harry's still sleepy brain decided to spring into action and he sat up with a jolt, reading over the letter again in grateful disbelief. If he could believe Lucius' generous offer of helping him through the formalities then perhaps the man wasn't really angry at him. Maybe there was a chance of discussing the whole dismal matter in peace.

Contemplating the snobby owl on his headboard, Harry rubbed over the tidy, elegant script. Lucius was an enigma, acting like he did. Harry really couldn't believe that his former future father-in-law didn't seem to be angered; he acted so amiably! There just HAD to be something that Lucius was holding against him!

Harry raked both hands through his hair and winced when his fingers tangled in the dark locks painfully. He got up and put the letter on his desk in the drawing room before he went to take a nice, long shower. Sleeping was impossible, now that he had a rather stern-looking visitor.

After an unsatisfactory breakfast, consisting of dry oatmeal, Harry sat at his desk and pondered about how to answer Lucius' offer best. For one he didn't want to offend the man if he was offering his help so generously. On the other hand he really wasn't sure if he could work together with him if he allowed Lucius to make the case his business.

In the end Harry decided rather swiftly and didn't regret it once his pointy script filled a page of conjured parchment.

Owl from Harry Potter to Lucius Malfoy, October 9th 2005

Lucius,

Thanks for your generous offer to sacrifice your time for me. I think it would be best that you take up the case since you are involved and probably know best what we need to do to get that Skeeter bitch out of the way.

Please accept my apologies for being so tart in the last letters. I'm glad you want to help me, although I don't quite understand why you would want to do that. Surely you have better things to do than to help me out of the messes I caused.

Anyway, I filled out your forms. Does that mean that you're taking my case on officially now?

Sincerely,

Harry

Harry hoped he had expressed his gratitude suitably when he tied the letter to the right foot of the eagle owl. It hooted and blinked with its large eyes. Stroking it once, Harry sent it off and returned to contemplating his situation. He seriously needed to go shopping but he wasn't sure if he could show up in a shop without being approached.

A sardonic thought made him curl his lip. Snape surely would now say that he was too full of himself. The world didn't revolve solely around him. Maybe he could go shopping without being seen? Maybe, if he was quick, he could make it back here in one piece.

Harry heartily threw such thoughts out of the window. He could buy the basic things in the Muggle world. Since he owned a credit card it was entirely possible for him to live a life as part-Muggle (which was rather convenient since Harry preferred Muggle supermarkets to the little expensive stores wizards generally liked to shop in).

Harry decided to try it, dressed in a Muggle coat, slipped his shoes on and Apparated swiftly into a back alley of Muggle London. His trip into a supermarket was longer than expected: once Harry had started thinking about what he needed to restock his flat there was no stopping after the basic things. He bought bread, fresh oatmeal and frosted goods in one supermarket, then put the things away at home. Wine, liquors, water and juices were bought elsewhere. All in all Harry popped in and out of his flat five times until he had everything he needed.

Satisfied, he fell in a chair in his kitchen and just looked at some fresh basil and parsley in their pots. Cookies and a few coffee beans that were arranged appetisingly instantly made the air smell much homier.

The fridge was stuffed with cheese and cold cuts, vegetables, mustard, ketchup, capers, hot red chilli paste, marmalade and pudding and a hundred other little things he needed for cooking. He had also bought new spices, new flour, noodles and glasses with sauces. Now the kitchen looked truly lived in with all the foods stashed in the cupboards, on shelves and on the counter. Apples sat in a fruit bowl, looking delicious, so Harry snatched one and ate it with relish. For the first time in a long while he felt at ease. Not fully content, but it was okay for now.

When he was done with his apple he took a fresh piece of parchment and penned a letter to Mr Pipe, informing him that he would come to work tomorrow. By now his employer knew that he was back, there was no point in hiding any longer. He sent Hedwig off and scowled momentarily at the toucan. It obviously wanted to stay where it was and made no move to go back to its island.

The night had already broken when Harry finally decided to give the obtrusive bird a name. He settled for Paja, a small revenge for the toucan's annoying presence.

"If you're staying you'll work for it," said Harry sternly to Paja, who was sitting in the chandelier and watching Harry with utmost interest.

Just then Lucius' owl soared through the open window into the living room and hooted importantly. Harry threw the toucan one last stern look and then turned to read his mail.

Owl from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, October 10th 2005

Dear Harry,

I must thank you for your trust. I thoroughly expected you to ask me for other lawyers but then again you're right: we both know exactly what we want.

And yes, I accept your apology, although I don't deserve it. You have every right being tart to me, considering that I teased you with my knowledge over months.

Why am I doing this for you? It's simple, I could have prevented the aforementioned mess with a much lower cost and without losing your trust in me. I appreciated the time we spent together and I worry that you'll never forgive me. At least I can try to get the press off your back, if nothing else.

The forms you've filled out have gone to the Ministry of Magic to apply formally to the court. It might get rough in the upcoming weeks so you better be prepared for some nasty surprises. It would also help if you'd hold yourself ready to speak in front of the court. After all, if Harry Potter is having a complaint he's best expressing it himself.

I'll inform you about the progress and discuss any upcoming problems when they arise. Until then I wish you the best of luck with your Mr Pipe and your work.

With kindest regards,

Lucius

P.S.: The owl's name is Merlot. Don't ask.

Harry smiled slightly, feeling as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders and heart. Lucius seemed to be genuinely sorry, and Harry believed him. It was time to forgive the man; as it seemed he really had only wanted to do what he thought was best. If Dumbledore could mess up his life with his so-called good intentions then surely Lucius would have one or two chances as well. Merlin knew that Dumbledore had had more than he deserved!

It wasn't that late but he decided to let Merlot have a rest and reply to the letter tomorrow. He couldn't give Lucius the impression of being too eager, that would ruin his angsty persona he had built over the last weeks. He would let Lucius stew for a bit longer but in the end he was just happy that the man still wanted to be his friend. If not, well, this would have been the hardest part of busting the wedding and cutting all ties with Draco.

Merlot hooted gratefully when Harry sent him up to Hedwig's cage and told him to rest for the night. Hedwig, who soared into the room not much later, eyed the intruder interestedly but didn't seem to be displeased about the sleeping arrangements. She just snuggled up to the big eagle owl and pecked him so he would preen her white feathers.

Harry laughed. Hedwig was the queen in her territory, if another owl stayed longer than for dropping off a letter she made it clear who was the boss. With Paja, however, it was different. She obviously didn't think much of him and tried to push him around. Unfortunately the considerable size of the toucan made that difficult. And, adding to that, he had a rather quick beak.

He soon went to bed, thinking about Lucius and about a possibility to pay the lost money for the wedding back. There was no way he was letting that issue loom over his head for too long.

For Harry, the date of his first hearing couldn't come too soon. The restriction order and the Ministry close were keeping off unwanted magical letters, but no one ever said anything about mail the Muggle way. He would have to say something about that, too.

As it was, Harry was DROWNING in violently red, clumsily enveloped, non-howling Howlers, and it was slowly driving him to madness. Witches and wizards of all ages and social standings were insulting him in these letters, slaughtering him with words. That they paid the money for the stamps astounded him, but then again he really shouldn't be surprised. He was wondering how they'd gotten hold of his address, though.

Harry knew that he could take a lot; Hogwarts had prepared him well for such occasions, but he was still getting hate-mail after all these weeks that had passed, and slowly it was starting to really get to him. Rita Skeeter was happily writing about him, although she was clever enough to change her nom de plume every now and then to avoid being found out. Harry didn't think that even the Ministry was so stupid not to see what she was doing. On the other hand … Fudge was still in office; how he managed that nobody could explain. So maybe they WERE too blind to recognise Rita's fairly unique writing style.

In his desperation he had written to Ron and Hermione, explaining himself in the letter and begging them to forgive him for disappearing like that. He also told them not to expect him to show up anytime soon because of all the ruckus that was made about him.

Their immediate and lengthy reply also included a letter from Fred and George, who were congratulating Harry merrily for his choice of partner (they always had something sadistic about them, Harry found). Hermione was practical as always and offered her help against Rita Skeeter. She and the reporter had been enemies from the beginning, and Hermione also loved a good challenge. Ron was just tagging along, although he was genuinely sorry for Harry's dismay. In a post script he admitted that he was happy though, now that Draco was gone.

A good two weeks later a new letter from Lucius reached Harry, containing official news. It came before the owl from the Ministry arrived. It caused a sinking feeling in Harry's belly, as if Lucius was trying to ease him into an unpleasant development. He shooed Merlot up to Hedwig's cage and broke the seal on the letter.

Owl from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, October 31st 2005

Dear Harry,

I hope you enjoyed Halloween at least a little. At the Ministry the party is in full swing right now but I managed to get away relatively unscathed; unscathed enough to write this letter, at least.

Please be prepared for tomorrow's Daily Prophet. Unfortunately I couldn't get an advanced copy, but the main content is your flight from the wedding once again, and that you're hiding. The wording of the article, of course, is a bit less polite but you catch my drift. It's aiming to rile the people up once again, and that on a Monday. You're in for quite a stressful week.

The author calls himself Preston Bugshaw; after what you told me about Skeeter's Animagus form I have no doubt that this is yet another poorly chosen nom de plume of hers. My informants and employees have already been pressing the Daily Prophet for information about this Preston-character, with no success. The chief editor denied everything, which is rather stupid of him since the article will get out tomorrow morning. In another few hours I will at least know how much they paid her.

If you should get new letters don't hesitate to write me. I have a few small houses that are safe against intruders of all kind, including Muggle mailmen. It will be no problem at all to get one fixed up for you if you should need it.

The second reason for this letter is the official hearing on the fourth of November. I suggest we appear together, so the dunderheads in the Ministry won't "accidentally" forget where the hearing is to be held. It's supposed to start at ten o'clock a.m. Meet me in the entrance hall of the Ministry quarter to ten, then we should be fine.

With kindest regards,

Lucius

P.S.: How is work going, by the way? You never told me about it when you started a couple of weeks ago.

Harry was moved by Lucius' concern. How was it possible that a few words could soothe him so much? And the offering of shelter was very welcome, especially when he thought about the chronic understating Lucius seemed to indulge in. When the man said "bad" he actually meant "catastrophic". It was rather unnerving at times, to think about possible double meanings.

And no, his Halloween had been absolutely dreadful. The Weasleys had invited him to their party but Harry knew that there would be people he'd rather not see at the moment, so he had declined the invitation sadly and chose to drink his misery away with a fine Merlot instead. Merlot the owl helped him with that while Hedwig turned her back on them in disgust.

Quickly he grabbed his quill and a fresh, crisp piece of parchment to write a reply before he was too drunk to do it. It wasn't helping that his gratitude for the man was rolling off of him. If he wasn't careful he would be writing mushy nonsense instead of something worth his while. His head was pleasantly light right now …

Owl (crossed out) Toucan from Harry Potter to Lucius Malfoy, November 1st 2005

Dear Lucius,

I really don't know how to thank you. If things get really bad (as I have a feeling that they will) I'll gladly take you up on your offer. I can hardly imagine a better hiding place than one of your houses, if you'll accept my praise. And I can't believe that Rita Skeeter is actually acting the way she does. That officially screams revenge. I'll be accused of her untimely death anyway, should that ever happen, no matter if I have anything to do with it or not, so I might as well do it.

I wrote to Ron and Hermione. They're not mad at me for foregoing their invitation to the Halloween party, thankfully. I don't know what I would do without them. Hermione promised to help me with our Skeeter-problem. Well, if she is at it she can also try to dig up dirt about Fudge. She almost hates him as much as she hates Rita, and that's saying something. Ron is astoundingly amused about the whole thing. I wonder if he's on pot or something.

Oh, and Fudge! Fudge had better not trying to set me up a second time in the Ministry or I'll personally see to it that he'll never be able to try anything in his life again. Ever. (I'm getting better at spouting threats, don't you think?)

That stupid toucan (I named him Paja – straw) insisted on taking your letter, so don't wonder too much. Merlot is feeling right at home with Hedwig and I, and I guess I know now why you named him that. He managed to drink half a glass of my wine just now and is hooting ridiculous songs. I think he's trying to imitate Cher, but I'm not sure. Hedwig wasn't too happy with him. She abhors drinkers.

Is it alright if I send any new letters to your office, in case you need them as proof? They can't explode after the Ministry close, and I hope your house elves will scan them before opening. I'm simply overtaxed with that crap, I admit it.

I'll see you at 9.45 a.m. on Wednesday. Thanks for standing me by, I don't know if I could hold my temper in check otherwise.

Yours sincerely,

Harry

Harry sent Paja off with the letter, feeling as if he'd sent a piece of himself as well. Now that most of his anger toward Draco and himself was gone he realized how much of a gentleman Lucius was. He helped him out of his misery, tried to cheer him up and even took the blame for everything, although he was hardly the only one to blame, and certainly not the main culprit.

Sighing, Harry sat in his armchair and drew his knees up to his chest, curling into himself like a young boy who was experiencing his first heartbreak. It had hurt like hell, and yet: at the wedding he had thought he had seen something in Lucius' face. Something that was strong enough to shred his desperate resolve to find happiness in a life with Draco.

But it only had been a second, a meaningful, wonderful, heavy second in which every secret in the world was solved and everything was very clear, as if somebody had taken a veil off the world to show its true, brilliant colours.

In that second Harry had found out who sent the photo, found out Draco had never truly loved him and found out that he wasn't ready for a life as husband. Not with Draco anyhow. He wasn't done travelling yet, or dreaming. There was still so much to discover.

That was the reason he had Apparated away to the Caribbean instantly, leaving everything behind to stew in its own maliciousness.

Hedwig flew onto the back of the chair and crooned lovingly. Her snowy white feathers rustled gently when she folded her wings carefully. Harry wished she'd stay with him forever, until he died himself. He loved her, and her being there always comforted him. At some points she had been the only thing reminding him what love felt like.

When Harry finally went to bed it was with Lucius on his mind. He wanted to thank him for his efforts, he just didn't know how.

November 4th – Hearing at the Ministry of Magic, London …

Harry appeared right on time and strutted regally in the Ministry of Magic, throwing off a lot of people with his cool, even icy exterior. He was so pissed that he couldn't even begin to describe it!

The article that had been published on Monday had been every bit as bad as Lucius had said it would be, and then some. The vengeful words cut Harry up, mocked him, called him a liar and a slut (although not outright so) and unworthy to even be acknowledged in public. Rita Skeeter's article was long and in every word Harry found himself being degraded and humiliated.

Oh, she would pay for that!

Of course there were reporters and photographers assembled, waiting like vultures for a good shot or a word they could feast on; after THAT article it wasn't surprising, just most annoying. Harry threw them a murderous look and stalked past them, spotting Lucius in front of the ugly fountain (it had been repaired as soon as Harry had defeated Voldemort for good). His wand gave off ominous, bright green sparks. It didn't seem to faze anyone.

"Mr Potter, a word, please!" a reporter, a bald, big man, panted. Several other men and women were clawing at his clothes and arms to hold him back from Harry.

"Why did you run from your wedding, Harry?" asked a pretty, black haired woman. She was batting her eyelashes at him but looked rather dishevelled after the fight with the others.

"Twenty Letters Column, Mr Potter!" cried a fat little witch with grey hair. "Tell us in twenty letters what happened!"

Harry, who had just come up to Lucius, turned around and levelled them all with a glare.

"You better go back where you came from," he said slowly, darkly, "because the only words I can think of are the curses I used to get rid of Voldemort."

That did the trick quite nicely: the mass of reporters retreated at once. No one doubted Harry's words. He was, after all, the most powerful wizard in the world. Most of the Ministry employees, who had been eavesdropping, were hiding as well, not wishing to get into Harry's line of fire.

Lucius smirked. "Good morning, Harry. I see you're in a wonderful mood."

Harry looked up to him, green eyes blazing with anger. "That's the mood that convinces judges, I hope. Let's go, or I'll do some serious reporter-bashing."

"Of course," said Lucius, inclining his head slightly.

Harry's anger abated slightly and he took the time to look Lucius discreetly over. His hair was tied back with a black bow, and he wore an old-fashioned, black cloak, complete with an old-fashioned baroque-style shirt and a matching vest and trousers. It looked very good on him. Lucius was that kind of man who could pull off any kind of eccentric behaviour and still look gorgeous while doing it.

As if calling a house elf Lucius summoned someone from the Ministry and ordered him to lead them to the conference room where the hearing was to be held. The tiny, frightened man was obviously nervous and almost stumbled over his own feet, trying to accommodate the two wizards.

The walk to their conference room appeared like the walk to the gallows. Harry was sweating a bit, imagining the worst outcome that could possibly happen. Lucius by his side remained silent and stoic, although Harry observed that his jaw was working slightly, as if he was fighting a violent urge down. The small man in front of them walked as quickly as his short legs allowed.

"Here you are, sirs," squeaked the man when they finally reached a door on the third floor that was, much to Harry's morbid satisfaction, looking like another million doors of the Ministry building. The man (he had never introduced himself, not that Harry or Lucius cared) bowed and disappeared hastily.

Lucius wrinkled his aristocratic nose. "Honestly, they couldn't get any more plebeian if they tried, stuffing us into this …" He snorted elegantly and didn't finish his sentence. His appalled face was saying enough, anyway.

"I take it you know that room?" Harry asked.

"Oh, just too well," replied Lucius and knocked shortly. He didn't even wait for the permission to enter and just opened it, admitting Harry in first. "Be grateful that it's November, not July."

Harry saw what he meant just mere minutes later. The room was really small and stuffy, furnished with something that looked a lot like run-down Muggle furniture from the Sixties.

Fudge, who just had to be present every time when it came to Harry, looked pissed.

"Ah, Mr Potter, how good that you could make it on time," he yapped. He didn't offer Harry his hand in greeting.

"Yes, very good," said Harry in malicious softness, narrowing his eyes slightly. "We wouldn't want to delay this, now would we? I have somewhere else to be, after all."

"Away from Britain, most likely," said Fudge and sneered. "I heard your ex-fiancé is amusing himself in Greece?"

"I wouldn't know about that but I do find something very satisfactory about the word 'ex'." Harry smiled sweetly and meaningfully at Fudge and then abruptly left him standing to find a seat and take off his cloak.

"If I were you, Fudge, I would respect my betters," said Lucius quietly, but not quietly enough for Harry and the others in the room to overhear him. A witch coughed, only barely disguising her gloating laughter.

Fudge turned purple but kept his mouth shut. Madam Bones, head of the Wizengamot, cleared her throat and then asked everybody to take a seat. If her sour face was any indication, she wasn't too pleased about the room as well.

Other than her and Fudge there were a few other Ministry Officials, like Mr Weasley, and a few Harry didn't know. Lucius obviously knew them, however, and some he didn't seem to like. It had already surprised Harry that Lucius and Mr Weasley seemed to get along, now that Voldemort was of no importance anymore. They obviously respected each other for what they were. It was as if the unfortunate scuffle in Flourish & Blott's had never happened.

A young, blond man sneered at Harry, and his haughty smile made him instantly edgy. His pale, blue eyes rested shamelessly on the famous scar on Harry's forehead. "Mr Potter, how wonderful to meet you at last. My uncle has told me everything about you."

"Oh, really everything?" said Harry sweetly. "I hope he hasn't BORED you with that rubbish."

"Don't waste your time with him, Mr Potter," purred Lucius, obviously amused about Harry's vicious mood. "Minister Fudge's nephew is only out to buy time, as usual. And impolite, too, not even introducing himself to you."

"If we could start now," said Madam Bones testily. She and her two assistants were fanning themselves with sheets of parchment to cool off a bit. It was quickly getting hot in the small room. "Mr Potter, we are here to discuss your complaint about undue Howlers and the treatment by the hand of Rita Skeeter."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Harry.

"As proof we already have the Howler Incident from October 8th. Mr Potter is also complaining about letters that reach him the Muggle way, although we already sentenced that any Howler sent to him shall be sent right back to the respective senders."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Harry tightly. "The mailman is already asking about it, because he has to deliver them in baskets at times. It got worse after Monday's issue of the Daily Prophet." He levelled a glare at Fudge – he had a feeling that he had something to do with it.

Madam Bones sighed wearily. "I see. To cut this short: the mail is to be delivered to a mail box at the Ministry. Tomorrow we'll put a notice into every newspaper and inform people that it's illegal to send you any more letters, except if they have business with you. In other words, if you know them and wish for their correspondence it's all right, otherwise it's not. If our order is violated we'll find out who sent the letter and charge them with a fine of fifty Galleons per letter. You'll receive forty Galleons of the money as compensation for mental violence. Should such letters get through to you, inform us and we'll proceed as mentioned."

"That's preposterous!" barked Fudge. "Potter is a person of public interest, therefore he has to bear the consequences like any celebrity has."

"You forget that Harry isn't just any celebrity!" snapped Mr Weasley. It was the first time he said something this morning. He looked seriously ticked off. "And he certainly doesn't want the fame you are so generously bestowing upon him." The sarcasm was cutting and Fudge's sneer changed into a scowl.

"Minister, my first and only concern is the protection of Mr Potter's personal rights, thus he will be protected from unwanted letters," Madam Bones cut in. "His affairs are his responsibility only. Nobody has the right to interfere, especially not the government. That Skeeter woman is blowing this out of proportion. Did I make myself clear?"

"But the public has a right to know what's going on in Mr Potter's life," said Fudge's nephew slickly. "He saved us all, didn't he? That's our way to show gratitude. He'll never be left alone." His vindictive glance at Harry destroyed any illusions Harry might have had about the sincerity of these words (not that he had had any to begin with).

"Oh, please, Gordon," said Lucius silkily, "do you actually believe the nonsense you're spouting? I should hope not, it's rather unbecoming for your reputation. Gratitude really has a funny way of showing nowadays."

"Keep out of this, Malfoy," snapped Fudge. "Nigel is right, Potter is a celebrity and therefore he has to put up with the public interest. What are a handful of Howlers? I've got it worse!"

"Did you now?" Lucius' raised eyebrows mocked Fudge endlessly and Harry applauded the man for expressing disgust in so many ways.

"If you are quite done with arguing," Madam Bones' sharp voice cut through their squabbling. "I've never heard such nonsense in my life, Fudge, and that's saying something! Keep your nephew in check. This is not the time to decide about celebrity duties."

Madam Bones looked murderous, so Fudge caved, but not voluntarily so. Fudge's personal assistant, a girl that bore a remarkable resemblance to the late Dolores Umbridge, simpered nervously at him, clawing at her notepad.

The air in the room was getting thick, and there was no window to let some fresh air in. Lucius idly fingered his wand, making several other people shift uneasily in their chairs. Almost everybody was staring at Harry's scar. Harry felt more and more at ease next to Lucius; he was fending most unwanted advances off.

"Mr Potter, please go to Mr Hanson after this farce of a hearing is over and instruct him to open a mailbox for you. And then there's that issue of Rita Skeeter," said Madam Bones distastefully. "The Ministry is most grateful for your support, Mr Potter. We already wrote a report paper. I suggest you go through it together with your lawyer and then contact us about your additions. The only thing left to do is catch that woman and drag her in front of court. That would be all. Good day."

She swished her wand and the door burst open. Madam Bones was the first to flee the room, followed by her two colleagues who had a function as witness and writer of the protocol. Fudge, Nigel Gordon, his nephew, and Fudge's assistant stormed out after her, leaving Harry, Mr Weasley and Lucius alone in the shabby room without a goodbye.

"Well, that certainly went well," said Harry sarcastically.

"At least it didn't take us more than twenty minutes," replied Lucius, raising one eyebrow in amused surprise. "Sometimes the Ministry of Magic CAN be effective - if the officers want to."

"Fudge wanted to make you all lose your heads in this conference room. It's been marked down for renovations for ages but there never happened a thing." Mr Weasley raked both hands through his hair and then stood. "I'm sorry but I have to go. My desk is overflowing with paper work. The Howler Incident has been stirring up quite a bit of trouble. We're still not done Obliviating the Muggles."

"I'm sorry," sighed Harry.

Mr Weasley just ruffled Harry's hair before he bid him and Lucius a good day and left for work.

"He's not blaming you," said Lucius, idly picking his cane up from where it had leaned against the table. "You should stop worrying."

Harry scowled. "Well, I just ruined a few lives, nothing to worry about, right?"

Lucius inclined his head. "You didn't ruin my life, and certainly not Draco's. Fudge is right, he went to Greece, together with that Zabini boy. I hope they stay there for a good long while." His face became hard. "They can't count on my blessings."

Harry, despite his resolve not to talk about the whole dilemma with Lucius, rested his face in his hands. He needed to talk about it, desperately.

"Do you know how much that hurts?" he asked quietly. "I really thought we were good for each other, that we have a future." Harry snorted, and his shoulders tensed. "And I was so blind to believe him. I should have believed you."

Lucius hesitated for a moment before he touched Harry's shoulder gently. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. "Sometimes second chances are overrated. And Draco really doesn't deserve one."

"No, he doesn't," said Harry sadly and wiped his dry eyes tiredly. "Sometimes I wonder if love is overrated as well."

Lucius smirked. "You are far too young to have such depressing thoughts. What do you say to a decent breakfast, my treat?"

"Absolutely," agreed Harry and got up eagerly.

Lucius offered his arm and Harry, surprising himself, accepted. Maybe he was feeling rebellious after putting up with Fudge's mindless blundering. He couldn't care less, though, not when a first class breakfast was waiting.

They Apparated to Ireland and chose a small, homey café. Lucius knew his way around here, obviously. He pulled Harry's chair out for him gallantly and put his cloak away.

"You're such a gentleman," teased Harry, hiding his rosy cheeks behind the menu.

Lucius smiled smugly.

The notice in the newspaper didn't have the desired result. Harry ventured to the Ministry of Magic once a week to check on his mail and each time he was confronted with a small mountain of red envelopes.

Well, he mused, I'm earning money for doing absolutely nothing. I must be richer than Fudge by now. I bet that's why he was so pissed off about the arrangement.

He had gotten almost 3200 Galleons already, and there was no end to it.

Sadly, this and other arrangements were necessary. Twice someone had tried to break into Harry's apartment, only to be thrown back by very powerful wards. Harry didn't know the culprits but it was bad enough as it was. They were sentenced to three months in Azkaban for stalking him. And the Galleons were flowing into his Gringotts vault without cease.

A lot of people were obviously paying to insult him, and doing so with relish. Maybe, Harry mused, this gave them a sense of exclusivity. Not everybody could afford to pay fifty Galleons just to write him a non-magical Howler.

Paja was sitting in the chandelier and clinking against the crystal with his beak. Merlot was eying him distrustfully; Paja had chased him away from Hedwig on more than one occasion. Harry suspected that Hedwig had somehow engaged him to keep Merlot off her back because his drinking annoyed her.

Sighing contentedly, Harry put his feet on the ottoman in front of his armchair and unfolded Lucius' latest letter. They wrote regularly but Harry usually was far too worried to go out, despite Lucius' relentless coaxing.

Owl from Lucius Malfoy to Harry Potter, November 14th 2005

Dear Harry,

Christmas is approaching steadily and I thought I could start working on your resolve to live like an eremite in favour of going shopping with me. As I'm informed, your "fans" are paying an obscene amount of money to send you a piece of their mind. And didn't you promise to show me the more beautiful sights of Thailand? It's sad that I always have to remind you of your promises.

Think about it, it would be the perfect opportunity to spend some money, eat good food and get away from England.

I'm awaiting your questions as to when we meet and your instructions concerning the clothes I should wear.

Yours,

Lucius

Harry snorted. Lucius was a persistent bastard, but at least a bastard that understood the concept of fun. Giving readily into the temptation of leaving the country, Harry turned the short letter around and penned his reply on the backside. Merlot was swaying a bit when Harry tied the message to his leg.

"Don't look at me like that," chided Harry, "you drank too much, now you have to live with it."

Merlot hooted pitifully but Harry just threw him out into the cold evening air and shut the window after him. Oh, he looked forward to Lucius' reply. Slowly but surely he felt truly safe around the man, and without Draco as disrupting factor Harry's battered ego was blossoming again.

Feeling exceptionally well tonight, Harry wrote to Ron and Hermione and invited them to come to Vienna with him. Last year he hadn't been able to go to the Christmas fair, but this year he wanted to go to Vienna and see how the Austrians celebrated Christmas.

Hedwig gurgled around an owl treat when Harry attached the letter to her leg. She flew off without a protest, hooting in delight.

Harry knew that Ron and Hermione would be still up and most likely answer immediately. Ron was working for Gringotts and Hermione was studying magical sciences until late into the night. He hoped they could come because both had rather hectic schedules with their work and their little son.

He had just swallowed the last of his wine when Hedwig returned. He was pleasantly dizzy but not drunk and petted his owl lovingly over the breast feathers. The news she brought were less than encouraging, however.

"Oh, no, Ron has to work until Christmas and 'Mione is busy writing her doctoral thesis," Harry sighed. Hedwig crooned softly. "And what do I do now? Do I go by myself?"

Hedwig made a big show of preening her pristine feathers, and then she flew up to her cage to drink a bit water.

Harry pouted and put the letter aside. He really wanted to go to the fair, and by Merlin, he would, and if he had to go alone!

He was still pouting when he finally went to bed. He had work tomorrow, and Mr Pipe was worrying about him sometimes. Harry had sworn to do everything in his might not to cause his kind employer any more trouble than he already had.

"Ha, as if I could be of help when everybody just sneers at me," mumbled Harry bitterly. "All I'm good at is sitting at the desk in our office. I wish things would change already."

Hedwig's soft hoot sounded mystically from the living room.

Two weeks later, 1st advent …

Harry and Lucius had agreed to go to Thailand when Harry could take a Friday off. Now it was the first advent weekend and Harry had managed to get out of Mr Pipe's office early.

"It's killing me," he said quietly to Lucius who held on to him tightly. "Everybody is so nice to me and I can do nothing to earn the money they pay me."

"It will all work out, you'll see," replied Lucius soothingly. His voice was deeper and softer than usual, perfect for calming upset young men down. It was also perfect for making said young men quite nervous, though for entirely different reasons.

Harry swallowed the urge to tell Lucius how much he had sounded like Dumbledore (and the other urge to tell him just how damned sexy his voice sounded) and Apparated them to Thailand, exactly to the same spot like the last time.

It was much warmer than in England and they quickly got rid of their cloaks, although both Harry and Lucius remained in shirt and vest. Harry had adapted Lucius' dressing style so he wouldn't embarrass him by chance, and slowly he got used to it. He preferred cotton to silk, though.

"You look good, Harry," drawled Lucius appreciatively. "Casual suits suit you very well. In fact, you almost needn't bother trying anything else out."

"Thank you," said Harry, blushing self-consciously. "I had some help, though."

"Of course," replied Lucius with a pleasant smile. Harry bared his teeth in mock offence. "Now, where's that famous shopping area you promised to show me?"

"Not far from here," Harry smiled innocently. "Oh, and you might watch out for your things. There are a few little monkeys that just love to put their paws where they don't belong."

Lucius looked intrigued, so Harry led him to a huge market and showed his companion the secret passageway. It was similar to that in Diagon Alley, and soon they were completely swallowed by the masses of Asian witches and wizards who were all meandering one way or the other. Lucius' amused face showed how funny he found it that everybody was smaller than him. He really stood out like a beacon in a mass of black-haired people. And, of course, he drew more than one interested eye to him.

"Come, I have to show you so much," said Harry excitedly and grabbed Lucius' hand. It was easy to lose someone in this crowd and they simply had no time for that. He also denied vehemently that he liked holding Lucius' hand, and showing him off in public. It was startling enough that they fell back into their old, friendly ways so easily, as if nothing had ever happened. Somehow it was very comforting.

They visited every shop Harry knew and Lucius indeed spent a lot of money on rare books, even rarer potions ingredients and some very expensive jewellery. Harry introduced Lucius to some of his old friends and even though Lucius didn't understand a word of what they were saying, Harry's mortified face and their interested and amused looks spoke for themselves.

After their prolonged shopping spree they chose a restaurant with hotel and settled down for some relaxation. It was evening, and the elegant dining room of the restaurant was foregone for sitting on a terrace over the actual house. The crowns of trees in pots rustled over Harry's and Lucius' heads and nightingales were singing, together with the pretty harp players and singers. The sun was just setting and red lampions flickered to life.

"This is my favourite restaurant," said Harry, gazing over the lampion-lightened terrace lovingly. "I came here every week when I lived in Thailand."

"I'd say this place was definitely worth your while," replied Lucius in appreciation. "I just hope that the food is as artful as the décor."

"Oh, it is. And you haven't even seen the rooms yet." They had decided to stay for a night so Lucius could enjoy a typical breakfast. "What do you want to eat?"

"Nothing with feelers!" warned Lucius when he saw the menu, written in Thai characters.

"Of course," said Harry mockingly. "I wouldn't want you to decline a perfect meal, after all. Give me some credit here. Besides, I have to ask for the food myself. I can't read the characters, remember?"

"You still have an advantage," retorted Lucius. He had opened his hair after sitting down, and now the warm evening wind was playing softly with the white-blond strands. "I'd like to eat something with duck."

"No chicken?" Harry asked teasingly.

Lucius' icy glare was playful. "Mr Potter, how many times do I have to tell you that chicken is plebeian food? For a casual dinner it might be acceptable, but not for such an occasion."

Harry's green eyes clouded over for a second without him noticing. "So you consider me important enough to put up your best gentleman act?"

"Exactly," said Lucius, smirking. "Besides, I wouldn't eat chicken if I can have something better, anyway."

"You're so spoiled," Harry huffed. "You always want the best, don't you?"

Lucius' eyes gleamed smugly in the dim lamplight of the beautiful, fragile lampions – an answer in itself. Harry's breath halted, along with his heartbeat. That LOOK was so, so … he swooned, captured by Lucius' probing eyes, ensnared by the beauty of his face.

Then the moment was disturbed by a young, pretty waitress who asked them in her language what they wanted to eat. Her smile only brightened when she recognised Harry.

Harry pulled himself out of his dreaming and talked to her fluently, ordering duck in orange sauce for Lucius (somehow very fitting for the man, he found) and, just to spite the blonde, a chicken dish for himself. The young woman smiled brilliantly at Harry and vanished, quickly returning with two small drinking bowls and a bottle of plum wine.

"The food will be here soon," said Harry, pouring them both wine. "I hope you'll like it."

"Of course I will," said Lucius gently. "You chose, after all." He raised his glass, and his lazy smile held more than one meaning.

Both sipped on their wine, relishing in the fruity taste, the mild evening and the company. After a few minutes of silent enjoyment Lucius looked away from Harry and over the street that was illuminated by myriads of lampions. Hundreds of people were still walking along, talking pleasantly. Every now and then laughter sounded up to them.

"It's wonderful here, isn't it?" Harry asked with a longing sigh.

"You don't know what it means to me to see this," said Lucius softly. "For the biggest part of my life as adult I thought I was confined to Britain. The few trips out of the country always seemed unpleasant and bothersome. Only after I divorced Narcissa I found out again that travelling is wonderful." He looked at Harry, an inexplicable yearning in his stormy, cool eyes. "I owe you so much, Harry."

"You owe me nothing," said Harry, flushing from both the praise and the wine. "If anything I owe you for helping me out of my mess."

Lucius kept silent, but his eyes expressed his gratitude shamelessly. His gaze was ardent and sensuous. Harry had difficulty swallowing his wine, and he was admittedly too caught up in Lucius' eyes to think about anything else.

Just when Harry seriously considered reaching for Lucius' hand the waitress returned and placed several bowls and plates onto the table. Exotic scents instantly wafted through the air, and the food looked somewhat mysterious. She bowed and vanished as quickly as a ghost.

Lucius took his chop sticks and clicked with them playfully. "It smells nice. But I'll make sure it's good." He picked a piece of duck up, dipped it into the orange sauce and offered it to Harry.

Blushing once again, Harry allowed Lucius to feed him. "It's fine," he mumbled, mortally embarrassed. Eating in front of someone he had slept with - and with all that unresolved tension between them! – was very sensual, and he almost felt more exposed than during sex. Lucius was watching him avidly and it wasn't helping his countenance at all.

When Lucius had enough of making a show he put fluffy, white rice into Harry's bowl and then served himself. "Enjoy your meal, Harry" he purred.

Harry mumbled a reply and hastily busied himself with his food. They didn't speak, but sometimes they exchanged glances that were charged with SOMETHING; something that forbade them to destroy the pleasant silence and go back to keeping themselves from the other.

When they were done two hours later, Lucius led Harry down to the water where they walked slowly and watched over the sea and the little traditional boats. They seemed to float over the silver lines the moon painted, and Harry almost wondered if these boats could actually fly in the night.

"I wish I wouldn't have to go back," said Harry after a while. Lampions swayed in the warm breeze, pouring their orange glow over the two wizards. "It would spare me all the stupid ruckus." He turned to look at Lucius with dark, big eyes. "The English wizarding community has gone stark mad."

Lucius looked thoughtfully over the water. "Believe me, I know that. After Narcissa and I separated seemingly everybody was on her side. She is the woman, so I had difficulty battling my rights through. The so-called elite of Britain witch-hunted me for leaving her," his lips curled in ironic amusement, "but I did it, and it's the most rewarding thing I've ever done. In the end I'm free from everybody's demands."

"Are you really?" said Harry bitterly.

"I learned a lot about myself during these times," explained Lucius softly. "I learned not to let other people rule my life. First my family, making me marry Narcissa, and then Voldemort." He turned to Harry, the same fiery look in his eyes like all those years ago, when he had suddenly turned to Harry, offering to fight by his side against Voldemort. "It was a nightmare, and one I believed in for far too long. I swore to myself that I wouldn't let anyone rule my life but myself ever again. And I'm feeling good."

Harry leaned against him, suddenly feeling a great deal of respect for his almost-father-in-law. Lucius was practically admitting that he had the same fears and desires like any other man, and Harry was glad for it. He was glad for every little bit of Lucius he was allowed to see.

Lucius' arm settled comfortingly around his shoulder, and together they stood there for a long while, just watching the boats float by and the moon pass over the black, star-littered night sky.