Harry wanted to take his time in the morning. He and Draco enjoyed their morning routine, especially when they had the leisure to stay in bed, but Harry felt as if Lucius would barge in on them at any time and he hurried first to take a bath.

When he emerged from the steamy bathroom a little while later, towel hanging on his wet hair, Harry glanced at Draco lounging in the huge bed. Draco certainly looked like a prince there. No wonder he acted like it when they went to school together. And little wonder he couldn't understand why things didn't go the way he wanted them to. He was a spoiled and pampered little monster if this house was any indication of it. Harry shook his head. But I loved him anyway.

He sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at Draco, face composed in sleep. Until Draco lazily opened one eye. "You're staring at me again."

"Draco, I'm a little worried. What are your feelings about death?"

He eyed Harry and said nothing for a long time. "Do you mean am I a coward like my father?"

Harry only raised his brows, afraid to say more. He wiped his glasses with the end of his towel just to stall.

Draco rustled uncomfortably under the covers. "Look. You know I'm not the bravest creature in the world, but I don't think I'm afraid to face death. Especially knowing I can spend eternity with you."

Harry sighed. "Well that's what I was worried about. It wouldn't be paradise or whatever it is if you're off somewhere spooking a house."

"Don't intend to, mate. And anyway, you'd see to that, wouldn't you?"

"Might be gone first."

Draco shivered. "This has certainly turned into the most maudlin honeymoon I've ever heard of!"

Harry laughed for the first time in days. "It is that. Never a dull moment with the Potter/Malfoy team."

"That's Malfoy/Potter." Draco tossed the duvet aside and shrugged into his dressing gown. He walked up to Harry and took him in his arms. "And we've got years to have dull moments." He reached up and cupped Harry's cheek with one hand and brought him closer. He brushed Harry's lips with his and Harry succumbed to the sweet sensation of Draco's kiss. Their mouths pressed, rubbed, slid over the other gently, not taking more. Harry hummed with contentment.

"Aren't you two done yet!"

Harry tore away from Draco with heart pounding and stumbled to stand a few feet away from him.

The incorporeal form of Lucius Malfoy sneered near a pillar, his fist resting on one hip.

"Don't you ever knock?" gasped Harry.

"With what?" he answered, gliding into the room. He nailed Draco with a glare. "It is nine o'clock. I've never known you to be lazy, Draco."

"I'm on my honeymoon!" he whined.

Lucius pulled a distasteful face and continued moving toward the other end of the room. "Honeymoon!" he hissed. "With Potter of all people."

"You're going to be very grateful it is Harry Potter in a moment, Father." Draco moved toward the dining table and it instantly became laden with all the breakfast things. Without missing a beat, Draco poured Harry some tea and handed the cup and saucer to him. Harry took it and gingerly sat in one of the chairs closest to Draco at the head. Draco sat like the lordling he was and proceeded to lift the lids of some of the chafing dishes. "Sausage, Harry?"

"Maybe later." His stomach suddenly didn't feel like food with the spectre of Lucius Malfoy floating near them. He took a sip of tea and then put the cup down.

Draco, on the other hand, loaded his plate with food. "Sit, Father. Or the equivalent." Harry noticed the subtle shift. Draco was now in charge. When had that occurred? Draco had always been a little obsequious in his father's presence when he was alive and also just yesterday. But something had changed. Draco must have realized he was true master of the house now, and Lucius only an irritating visitor, like a relative who didn't know when it was time to leave. "Go on, Father. I have something to discuss with you."

Harry saw it on Lucius's face. He had caught it, too. Draco's insistence on obedience, on taking the lead. There was a mixture of amusement and pride on Malfoy senior's face but also a bit of annoyance. He lowered to a chair and appeared to be sitting. "Well then? What is it?"

Draco bit down on his toast and spoke with his mouth full. "Harry has a proposal to make to you. Go on, Harry."

Lucius turned his gaze toward Harry. "Er…okay. Well, I discussed it with a few of Hogwart's teachers and I think I've found a way to…to…um…"

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" said Draco, throwing down his serviette. "He's got a plan to send you on, Father. Get you out of the ghost business."

"Does he?" Lucius was unmoved. He eyed the food on the table wistfully. "And just what do you propose, Potter? I have no wish to disappear into oblivion."

"Oh no, sir, it wouldn't be like that!" said Harry, kicking himself for falling into the habit of calling him 'sir'. "It's to send you on. To where you're supposed to go. To…to be with your wife."

Lucius stood. His expression opened in surprise and before he could stop himself, he gasped, "You can do that?"

Draco patted Harry's hand. "That's my Harry. He can do anything. He's the most powerful wizard on the planet. Did you know?"

Lucius's expression only grew more surprised. "No. I didn't," he said in an unnaturally small voice.

Harry cleared his throat to hide his embarrassment. He wished Draco wouldn't do that. "It's not me, really. It involves a medium and a séance."

Lucius snorted and his face returned to its aristocratic snarl. "Oh I see. Parlor tricks."

"No! Really!" said Harry, sitting forward. "I discussed it with Professor Binns."

"Binns?" Lucius considered. "Well. Perhaps…"

"But the thing of it is, Mr. Malfoy, you've got to want to go on."

"What do you mean, you impertinent brat? Of course I want to go on!"

"Well, sir, that is why you are a ghost in the first place. You were afraid to-"

His form reared up, grew larger and scarier. "I AM NOT AFRAID OF ANYTHING!"

Harry pulled back. Draco simply sat as he was, slathering marmalade on his toast. Harry took a breath and glared back. "Well apparently you were, or you wouldn't bloody well be a ghost. So give the performance a rest. Or I won't help you."

"Fine. I don't need your help."

"Yes you do." Harry stabbed a sausage with his fork and flopped it on his plate. He didn't want it, but he wanted something to do while Lucius fumed back and forth across the floor.

"I can 'go on' anytime I want to."

"Fine. Go ahead, then."

"You just want me to stop haunting Malfoy Manor so that you can abuse my son from the chandeliers."

Harry turned to Draco with a wicked smile. "Haven't thought about the chandeliers."

"I was considering the staircase."

Lucius howled his indignation.

"Really, Father. Howling? I would have credited you with a more creative approach."

"But I don't need to rest, my flesh and blood. I can howl all day and all night!"

Draco shot Harry a concerned look. "I think we all got off on the wrong foot this morning. Can we try again?"

"NO! I'm through talking with you. Both of you!" He soared up into the vaulted ceiling and disappeared. Distant howling reverberated down the corridors.

"Shit," said Draco, throwing his toast to his plate. "That didn't go well."

"Sorry I baited him. But he can be a right prat, your dad."

"It's not your fault. He is afraid and he's embarrassed to say so. I can tell."

"So what do we do?"

"Go on with our day. I'll show you the rest of the house and maybe he might come round by nightfall. If not…well. I guess we move this honeymoon somewhere else."

"Are you disappointed? You planned everything so well-"

"Didn't know we'd run across Father. Otherwise it was a sweet gesture, coming here. I know you hate it."

"I don't hate it," said Harry conciliatorily. "It's just not my favorite spot on the planet. No offense."

Draco shrugged. "Let me bathe and we'll see the rest."

* * *

After Draco dressed he took Harry on a tour of the rest of the house. Harry couldn't believe that one family-three people-lived in something almost as big as Hogwarts. It seemed like such a waste to him.

"Down there is the trout stream," said Draco, leaning precariously out an upper story window and pointing to a glittering ribbon meandering into the distant hills.

"Just how far does this property go?" asked Harry, a little horrified.

"That forest beyond the stream. That's it, really."

"Oh that's it. Well. Thought it was bigger."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Yes. Spoiled little rich boy."

"Now you know why I turned up my nose at the likes of the Weasleys."

"No, it only showed why you thought you had the right to, not that you were justified in doing so."

Draco balked at that. He said nothing and continued the tour.

They stopped for lunch, dining on the terrace overlooking the garden with the folly in the distance. "I suppose one could get used to this," Harry admitted, dipping his fork into the tender pink flesh of his poached salmon.

"You own it now, too, poor little rich boy."

Harry shrugged. "Didn't know I had money growing up. Certainly never saw any of it except what I used for Hogwarts."

"You never spent it on a wardrobe, that's for sure. What was with the clothes ten sizes too big?"

Harry was surprised he still blushed at that. "Those were my cousins clothes handed down to me. The only thing the Dursleys ever bought for me was my glasses and only because the primary school made them do it. Though they never bought me another pair after that. I never realized until much later that Madam Pomfrey always reset the lenses every year so I could properly see."

It was Draco's turn to blush. "Sorry. I didn't know." Then Draco brightened. "Hey! I've got an idea. Why don't we go shopping! For you! Whole new wardrobe."

"Oh Draco, I don't know. I don't really need-"

"Oh come on, Potter! Those old jumpers and school ties? You look like a relic. Like Binns. You're a young man. We'll floo to Diagon Alley and Saville Row. A little wizard wear and Muggle clothes."

"You're going to put me in Muggle clothes?"

"Armani, Harry. Besides, you look good in Muggle clothes. Of course, you look better out of clothes completely, but you can't sport around Hogwarts starkers, now can you? Not that I'd complain."

* * *

They flooed to Diagon Alley, and Draco pulled Harry along, knowing just where to go. They entered Twilfitt and Tattings and were greeted by a surprised Grimsby. "Master Malfoy, sir!" He looked around nervously at his other customers. After all, it had only been a year since Malfoy had returned to the Wizarding world. But then Grimsby looked at Harry and his eyes widened. His glance flicked as they always did up to Harry's fading scar. "And Mr. Potter! It is an honour, sir! Welcome to our establishment. May I offer my congratulations at your...er…nuptials."

"Sure. Thanks."

"Look, Grimsby," said Draco. "We're going to need a lot of room. Professor Potter here is in need of a new wardrobe. And Grimsby. Today we are not on a budget."

The pound symbols ran through Harry's head. He hoped Malfoy did not intend to bankrupt them in their first year married.

Soon after, Harry stood unhappily in front of a bank of mirrors, arms extended as Grimsby pinned the sleeves in place. Draco lounged off to the side directing the shopkeeper to keep the robes coming.

Harry looked at Draco's reflection in the mirror. "It's funny. I didn't see you for the first time on the Hogwarts express, you know. I saw you at Madam Malkins trying on robes."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I had no idea who you were, of course. You looked impressive and I thought I was never going to come close to that. You were talking about Hogwarts and I wanted to speak to you because I didn't know what to expect at school, having just found out I was a wizard. But I chickened out. And then there you were on the train."

"So why were you such a prat to me?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry 'bout that. But you were being a right git about Ron and how poor he was and so you didn't seem like the kind of bloke I wanted to get to know."

"Hmpf," snorted Draco, crossing his legs. "Bet you were sorry about that."

"Next year when I took a fancy to you I was. And every year since, I guess."

"Well it all turned out all right in the end, now didn't it?" He sat up. "No, Grimsby. That colour is definitely not Professor Potter's. Try the dark one."

Harry allowed Draco to drag him to several more shops, getting him shoes and shirts. He smiled at the Slytherin. Draco enjoyed it, after all, and Harry had to admit that he looked pretty good in Draco's choices. They lunched in Muggle London and Draco suggested they dine out for dinner as well.

"Uh…Draco, you're not afraid to go home to the manor, are you?"

He gave Harry a withering look. "You're such an idiot, Potter. No. But I think that it will give Father something to think about when we're gone all day. He might think twice about his choices."

Harry shook his head. "How very Slytherin of you."

"Why thank you."

They both changed for dinner in the last shop of the day and Draco took Harry to an elegant bistro tucked in a corner of Muggle London. It was a Muggle establishment, but Harry could tell there were a few wizards there because they kept staring and pointing at him and Draco. Ignoring them as best he could, he scooted closer to the candlelit table and sipped his wine. "This was actually a pretty fun day, Draco. Thanks."

"My pleasure, Harry. You look smashing in those clothes, if I do say so myself."

Harry looked down at his lavender silk shirt and dark trousers. "It's definitely not something I would have chosen on my own, but it does look good."

"You'll be the talk of Hogwarts when we get back. It's about time you came up with a 'Potter look'."

"I thought I had a 'Potter look'."

"Shabby chic is out, Harry."

Harry gave him a withering look and returned to his dinner.

It was late by the time they Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. A few candles were lit, enough for them to make their way up the huge staircase in the foyer. Draco's parents were dozing in their painting. Harry wondered what would happen if Draco had been painted into their portrait. Would only the dead figures have come to life, or would their very alive son become animated, too?

They moved arm in arm down the corridor, but there was no sign of Lucius Malfoy. Harry was under no delusions. Malfoy had told him that he was aware of everything on the estate; who was there and who wasn't, so surely he knew that he and Draco were back.

They prepared for bed and Harry nervously doused the lights. He slid into Draco's arms once they were under the covers and Draco purred at him. "Why so skittish, Harry?"

"Don't want any unpleasant surprises from the father-in-law, you know."

"Catching us in flagrante delicto, you mean?" Even in the dark, Harry could detect Draco's smile as he said it. The Slytherin's hands began to explore him.

"It sounds like you want him to."

"I admit, it does spice things up bit. Waiting to be caught." He nibbled on Harry's ear.

"It's not my idea of fun, Draco."

"Oh come on, Harry. Live a little. It's not all slam-bam-thank-you-sir."

"Are you inferring that our love life is boring?"

"Oh far from that," he said into the skin of Harry's neck. "I just think a little tweaking every now and then can enliven it."

"It's enlivened enough for me, thanks. I didn't hear you complaining in Provence."

"Nor would I dream of it. The barn was pretty romantic."

"Even if you wouldn't give it a go in the hay?"

"Malfoys don't 'give it a go' in hay, Harry. That's what clean linens are for."

Draco's busy hands were starting to head south. As much as Harry wanted them to, he just felt too uncomfortable letting himself go. He wriggled away. "Draco…I just…"

"Lumos!" said Draco sullenly, and sat up against the wall as the candles lit. "So is that it? You're scared that daddy will walk in on us?"

"Well, frankly, yes." Harry scooted up along side of him.

Draco's face screwed up determinedly and he suddenly yelled out, "Father! Fa-ther!"

"What are you doing?"

A milky blob coalesced and became Lucius Malfoy. "Yes?"

Harry grabbed the sheets and crammed them up to his chin. He sank down into the bed, trying to disappear.

Lucius swiveled his gaze. "Relax, Potter. It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Look, Father. Harry is concerned you'll barge in at an inopportune moment. Would you mind promising you won't?"

Lucius eased across the floor, giving the impression he was making solid steps across the carpet. "No, I can't promise that."

Draco sat up. "What?"

"Do you expect me to simply hide in the shadows while you blithely live your insignificant little lives?"

Draco moved to rise from the blankets but Lucius stayed him with an upraised hand. "Don't. Please. I don't need to see the evidence of your…commitment."

Draco stayed as he was and fumed. "You promised to give us space."

"I promised this 'space' yesterday, and that I have fulfilled. But to go on as if I do not exist is insulting. I won't do it."

"So you are a coward. You won't make the measly effort for me knowing I'll only be here a few days and you won't make the effort to leave and 'go on'." He looked him up and down. "You're not the Lucius Malfoy I knew."

"No. I'm not. This one is dead."

"And a coward!"

Lucius would have turned red if he could. He pressed his lips so tightly together they nearly disappeared. "You don't know. You barely understand-" He whirled, marched toward the wall, and disappeared into it. But a moment later he was back. He stood at the foot of the bed-each Malfoy glowering at the other-until Lucius said, "I want to talk to Potter. Alone."

Harry raised his brows at Draco, almost the only thing visible since he'd pulled the blankets up to his nose. Draco raised his chin, and though he made no word of acquiescence, he climbed from the sheets, pulled on his dressing gown, and stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Harry peeked over the sheets across the long expanse of bed toward Lucius standing at the foot. "There's no need to cower, boy."

"I'm not cowering," said Harry, realizing he was doing just that. Slowly he emerged from the sheets and shoved them to his lap. He felt the blush from his face travel downward over his exposed chest. He crossed his arms, trying to feel nonchalant.

Lucius's posture loosened from its stiff rigidity. "I watched you both yesterday," he said softly. "How you interacted, touched, laughed. He loves you."

"Yes, sir." Damn this blush!

"And you appear to love him. Even after…everything."

"Yes, sir."

"It reminded me of Narcissa and I. Did you know that ours was an arranged marriage?"

"No, I didn't know that, sir."

"It was. Purebloods have little to choose from these days. But it was love at first sight, for both of us. She was even more beautiful then. So young. So fresh. So full of life." He frowned at that last word and strolled to the side of the bed closest to Harry. Harry tried not to cringe as he neared. "We had the perfect life. Everything we desired we had. Everything went our way. We even had the son we longed for and he was a delightful little boy. Draco worshipped me, and I adored and pampered him." Without thinking, Lucius sat on the edge of the bed. Harry scooted imperceptively away. "The perfect family." He sighed. "But then…the Dark Lord came into our lives. And we thought that this, too, was perfect. Here was the ultimate manifestation of great Dark power mingled with the ideals of Pureblood wizardry. He was charismatic, charmed us. We wanted to be close to him, important to him, and we were. And there were no conflicts within our little family because we were all of the same philosophy. Even as the years past and his demands became greater, we did not see them as a burden, but as a boon. He was…our lord and master. We were utterly devoted to him. But then that fateful night when he went alone-against our better judgment-to Godric's Hollow-"

"And killed my parents."

Lucius seemed to awaken from his dream and looked at Harry. He smiled indulgently. "Yes. But mostly he went to kill you. Draco was your age. Narcissa stayed home with him. But I went out to escort the Dark Lord, yet he would not let me near. If only I had been."

Harry felt an odd sensation of disgust creep over him. Even in death this man hadn't learned his lesson. "Then I'd be dead, I suppose, and you'd be here talking to some other chap. But I'd be willing to bet anything you'd still be dead, too."

He whipped his head and glared. But soon it softened and he lifted a shoulder ever so slightly. "Perhaps."

"So what did you want to talk to me about, Mr. Malfoy?"

He seemed to be struggling with something, but finally he managed to speak. His voice was strangely hoarse with emotion. "When from my cell in Azkaban I heard Narcissa was killed, I no longer had the desire to live. She was everything to me. Everything. I couldn't believe, refused to believe that she was killed by the Dark Lord. But the more I heard the more I began to believe it. Then finally, I was released from prison by my fellow Death Eaters and reunited with my lord. He spoke nothing of Narcissa, so I dismissed the information as mere rumor. I followed him and obeyed his commands as I always had. Draco was in hiding by then and Snape was with him. I simply followed orders as an automaton, without feelings, without question. There was little left for me but to do so. And then one day, I did question the Dark Lord's decision about invading Hogwarts, when all the others were in search of you. I told him to assault you wherever you and your followers were, but he insisted, frantically, that he must go to Hogwarts. He didn't like my questioning him. When all the Death Eaters gathered, he told them he couldn't afford any kind of dissension amongst us. He commanded Greyback to attack me, but I thwarted the filthy werewolf with a curse. But the Dark Lord did not hesitate. He stood, raised his wand, and…" Lucius, still with disbelief on his face murmured, "he…he sent the killing curse…upon me." He blinked. "His face and the flash of green light were the last things I saw with mortal eyes. The next thing I knew, I was here. A spirit."

Harry tried to swallow. For years he'd despised Lucius Malfoy. Saw him as something as evil as Voldemort. He hated that he was seeing him as a human being now, enthralled by a madman yes, but still a human being with a human heart, even if his loyalties were misplaced.

"I miss my life," he said with a deadened voice. "I missed Draco. But mostly…I miss my wife. And I long to be with her. But I was afraid. More afraid of death than of life. I did not know there were worse things than death." He closed his eyes. Harry thought he detected the glitter of a tear on his lashes. "Mr. Potter, if it is possible to send me to my beloved wife, I should be very grateful to you. Please arrange your séance as soon as possible." He opened his eyes and looked at Harry. "Do forgive me for my behavior earlier. I am used to treating you badly. It is an old habit I acquired while in the employ of the Dark Lord. But I see now how unfounded my opinion of you was."

Shocked, Harry only nodded.

"Call for your séance. Tomorrow, if convenient. I should like to leave as soon as possible. No doubt, you will not disagree with my haste."


On to Chapter Eight
"Séance"

Back to Chapter Six
"The Medium"

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