Fic: Going Home: Part Eight
Title: Going Home: Part Eight
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alisanne
Word count: 1075
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy.
Challenge: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
slythindor100/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slythindor100's 25 days of Christmas, Day 8 (traditional): Mulled Wine, and for dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompt: Eggnog.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Beta(s):sevfan and emynn.
Authors Notes: Part 8 of Going Home (LJ/IJ/DW).
~
Going Home: Part Eight
~
Narcissa was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. When they got there she smiled, then placed one foot on a stair, and disappeared.
Harry blinked. “What—?”
“Looks like they got the stairs fixed,” said Draco, clearly not worried.
Frowning, Harry leaned down, inspecting the step. “Localised, permanent Portkey?”
“Yep.” Draco smirked. “Sometimes my parents would want guests to have to walk up the entire staircase. But since Mother’s decided you’re family, you can take the shortcut.” Moving ahead of Harry, he said, “Step in exactly the same spot I do or it won’t work.”
Once he’d disappeared, Harry stepped up onto the stair in precisely the same spot, and in the blink of an eye was standing in a hallway to find Draco and Narcissa waiting.
“This way,” said Narcissa, starting down the hallway. “We’ve moved him to a room overlooking the apple orchard.”
Draco reached for Harry’s hand, and fingers entwined, they followed.
Pausing at the door at the end of the hallway, Narcissa gestured. “It tires him if he has too many visitors. I’ll let you see him without me.”
“Harry’s coming in with me,” Draco said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Of course,” agreed Narcissa, a small smile gracing her lips. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re done. I’ll have eggnog waiting. I suspect you’ll need it.”
That didn’t bode well. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Draco shook his head and Harry shut up. Draco waited until she was out of earshot before he said, “Mother’s bribing us with alcohol? That’s not a good sign. I’m not sure I want to do this.”
Harry drew him close. “You don’t have to,” he said. “We can always leave. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
Harry kissed his temple. “So, what are we doing? Going in or leaving?”
“Going in.” Draco opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Be prepared, though. And if you have to resort to hexing, try not to make it anything too disabling.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “I probably won’t hex your ill father, Draco.”
Draco snorted. “Don’t say that until we see what’s behind this door. He may deserve hexing.”
Harry laughed. “I’ll let you do that since he’s your family.”
“He’s your family, too, now,” Draco pointed out.
“Don’t remind me.”
Chuckling, Draco reached for the doorknob, but before he could touch it, the door opened.
Bracing himself, Harry followed Draco inside. The door closed automatically behind them.
The room was taken up by a huge bed in the centre, its occupant entered covered up with blankets. A large window was to their left, overlooking an orchard. An elf was hovering uncertainly by the bedside, holding a tray with glass cup containing a clear, dark brown-red liquid. “Master Lucius,” it squeaked upon seeing Harry and Draco, “you has—”
“I know, Bippy,” came a snappish reply. “You’ve already told me you brought me mulled wine to drink with my tonic. And I told you I’ll take it when I’m ready.”
“Yes, Master Lucius, but—”
“Do not interrupt me in my own house!” roared Lucius.
“Well,” drawled Draco, moving closer to the bed, “whatever’s wrong with you, Father, it certainly hasn’t affected your voice.”
The figure under the covers went still. “Draco? Is that you?”
“Do you have any other sons I don’t know about?” Draco asked dryly.
“Your mother called you, didn’t she?” Lucius hissed. “She told me she was going to and I told her not to bother unless…Does this mean you’ve come to your senses? Have you returned to us finally?”
“We’re here,” said Draco, fingers tightening on Harry’s, “but as to whether or not we stay, I’d say that’s up to you, Father.”
“We?” The covers on the bed stirred. “Who’s here with you?”
“You know who it is, Father,” said Draco, tone firm. “Nothing’s changed except I understand you need my help.”
“If that’s the only reason you returned, then you can fu—” Lucius coughed, and it sounded as if he was hacking up a lung.
Bippy left the tray floating in the air and tried to help Lucius up. A pale arm came out and slipped the elf away. “I can still sit up by myself,” Lucius growled.
When Lucius’ face appeared, he looked pale and almost scaly, decades older than Harry recalled. His features appeared almost flat, as if it had been pressed between two metal plates, and his skin glistened iridescently, almost like that of a snake.
Draco blinked. “Salazar, Father—”
“Looking especially bad today, am I?” Lucius snorted, finally managing to lever himself up to settle against the pillows. He eyed Harry mistrustfully. “And you’re still hanging about with Potter I see.”
Draco lifted his chin. “Yes. And that’s not likely to change anytime soon.”
Lucius scowled, again batting away the cup of mulled wine the elf tried to hand to him. “Not now, Bippy!” Reaching out, Lucius fumbled for something before locating spectacles, which he had to hold in place because of his lack of a nose.
Harry frowned. There was something familiar about his appearance. When he realised what it was, he squeezed Draco’s hand. “Godric! He looks like he’s turning into a creature like Voldemort!” he whispered.
Draco inhaled sharply. “Circe and Morgana.”
Lucius huffed, falling back against the pillows. “I see you’ve figured it out. Good, that means I don’t have to explain.”
“Er, actually,” said Draco, edging closer, “I think you do.”
Just then the door opened, and Narcissa sailed in, a tray carrying goblets floating behind her. “Bippy,” she said, “please bring chairs for myself and the boys.” Then, as everyone gaped at her, she said, “Oh, and as you can see, I’ve brought the eggnog with me. I believe we’ll all need some fortification for this conversation.”
“I thought we were meeting you downstairs after talking to Father, Mother?” said Draco.
Narcissa smiled, reclining gracefully into the chair that appeared behind her. “That was only if his appearance made you run screaming. Since it hasn’t, we can talk here.” She glanced at Lucius. “And I did tell you, didn’t I, dear?”
Lucius hissed, but didn’t reply.
Draco frowned. “What is going on here?”
“Sit,” said Narcissa as chairs appeared for both him and Harry. “This is going to be quite the conversation.”
~
Continued in Going Home: Part Nine (LJ/IJ/DW).
Author:
alisanneWord count: 1075
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy.
Challenge: Written for
slythindor100/slythindor100's 25 days of Christmas, Day 8 (traditional): Mulled Wine, and for 
dracoharry100/dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompt: Eggnog.Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Beta(s):
sevfan and emynn.Authors Notes: Part 8 of Going Home (LJ/IJ/DW).
~
Going Home: Part Eight
~
Narcissa was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. When they got there she smiled, then placed one foot on a stair, and disappeared.
Harry blinked. “What—?”
“Looks like they got the stairs fixed,” said Draco, clearly not worried.
Frowning, Harry leaned down, inspecting the step. “Localised, permanent Portkey?”
“Yep.” Draco smirked. “Sometimes my parents would want guests to have to walk up the entire staircase. But since Mother’s decided you’re family, you can take the shortcut.” Moving ahead of Harry, he said, “Step in exactly the same spot I do or it won’t work.”
Once he’d disappeared, Harry stepped up onto the stair in precisely the same spot, and in the blink of an eye was standing in a hallway to find Draco and Narcissa waiting.
“This way,” said Narcissa, starting down the hallway. “We’ve moved him to a room overlooking the apple orchard.”
Draco reached for Harry’s hand, and fingers entwined, they followed.
Pausing at the door at the end of the hallway, Narcissa gestured. “It tires him if he has too many visitors. I’ll let you see him without me.”
“Harry’s coming in with me,” Draco said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Of course,” agreed Narcissa, a small smile gracing her lips. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re done. I’ll have eggnog waiting. I suspect you’ll need it.”
That didn’t bode well. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Draco shook his head and Harry shut up. Draco waited until she was out of earshot before he said, “Mother’s bribing us with alcohol? That’s not a good sign. I’m not sure I want to do this.”
Harry drew him close. “You don’t have to,” he said. “We can always leave. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That’s what I needed to hear.”
Harry kissed his temple. “So, what are we doing? Going in or leaving?”
“Going in.” Draco opened his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Be prepared, though. And if you have to resort to hexing, try not to make it anything too disabling.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “I probably won’t hex your ill father, Draco.”
Draco snorted. “Don’t say that until we see what’s behind this door. He may deserve hexing.”
Harry laughed. “I’ll let you do that since he’s your family.”
“He’s your family, too, now,” Draco pointed out.
“Don’t remind me.”
Chuckling, Draco reached for the doorknob, but before he could touch it, the door opened.
Bracing himself, Harry followed Draco inside. The door closed automatically behind them.
The room was taken up by a huge bed in the centre, its occupant entered covered up with blankets. A large window was to their left, overlooking an orchard. An elf was hovering uncertainly by the bedside, holding a tray with glass cup containing a clear, dark brown-red liquid. “Master Lucius,” it squeaked upon seeing Harry and Draco, “you has—”
“I know, Bippy,” came a snappish reply. “You’ve already told me you brought me mulled wine to drink with my tonic. And I told you I’ll take it when I’m ready.”
“Yes, Master Lucius, but—”
“Do not interrupt me in my own house!” roared Lucius.
“Well,” drawled Draco, moving closer to the bed, “whatever’s wrong with you, Father, it certainly hasn’t affected your voice.”
The figure under the covers went still. “Draco? Is that you?”
“Do you have any other sons I don’t know about?” Draco asked dryly.
“Your mother called you, didn’t she?” Lucius hissed. “She told me she was going to and I told her not to bother unless…Does this mean you’ve come to your senses? Have you returned to us finally?”
“We’re here,” said Draco, fingers tightening on Harry’s, “but as to whether or not we stay, I’d say that’s up to you, Father.”
“We?” The covers on the bed stirred. “Who’s here with you?”
“You know who it is, Father,” said Draco, tone firm. “Nothing’s changed except I understand you need my help.”
“If that’s the only reason you returned, then you can fu—” Lucius coughed, and it sounded as if he was hacking up a lung.
Bippy left the tray floating in the air and tried to help Lucius up. A pale arm came out and slipped the elf away. “I can still sit up by myself,” Lucius growled.
When Lucius’ face appeared, he looked pale and almost scaly, decades older than Harry recalled. His features appeared almost flat, as if it had been pressed between two metal plates, and his skin glistened iridescently, almost like that of a snake.
Draco blinked. “Salazar, Father—”
“Looking especially bad today, am I?” Lucius snorted, finally managing to lever himself up to settle against the pillows. He eyed Harry mistrustfully. “And you’re still hanging about with Potter I see.”
Draco lifted his chin. “Yes. And that’s not likely to change anytime soon.”
Lucius scowled, again batting away the cup of mulled wine the elf tried to hand to him. “Not now, Bippy!” Reaching out, Lucius fumbled for something before locating spectacles, which he had to hold in place because of his lack of a nose.
Harry frowned. There was something familiar about his appearance. When he realised what it was, he squeezed Draco’s hand. “Godric! He looks like he’s turning into a creature like Voldemort!” he whispered.
Draco inhaled sharply. “Circe and Morgana.”
Lucius huffed, falling back against the pillows. “I see you’ve figured it out. Good, that means I don’t have to explain.”
“Er, actually,” said Draco, edging closer, “I think you do.”
Just then the door opened, and Narcissa sailed in, a tray carrying goblets floating behind her. “Bippy,” she said, “please bring chairs for myself and the boys.” Then, as everyone gaped at her, she said, “Oh, and as you can see, I’ve brought the eggnog with me. I believe we’ll all need some fortification for this conversation.”
“I thought we were meeting you downstairs after talking to Father, Mother?” said Draco.
Narcissa smiled, reclining gracefully into the chair that appeared behind her. “That was only if his appearance made you run screaming. Since it hasn’t, we can talk here.” She glanced at Lucius. “And I did tell you, didn’t I, dear?”
Lucius hissed, but didn’t reply.
Draco frowned. “What is going on here?”
“Sit,” said Narcissa as chairs appeared for both him and Harry. “This is going to be quite the conversation.”
~
Continued in Going Home: Part Nine (LJ/IJ/DW).