Second Chances

Harry sat by Adrian's bedside, feeling somehow responsible for the boy's rash actions. He should have been able to see that the child was feeling so desperate. He should have been able to intercede before Adrian was pressed to the point of attempting suicide.

Raised voices and a harsh, rasping cough drew Harry out of his reverie. He turned in his chair as the door opened and Draco Malfoy swept into the room.

The man looked a mess. His normally sleek hair was stringy and tangled, his face was shiny with sweat, and his pale grey eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red. His alabaster skin had taken on a greyish tone, and the hand that held a handkerchief to his cracked lips shook slightly.

Harry rose quickly from his chair - the only one in the isolation room - and Draco collapsed into it, reaching out with his free hand to stroke his son's cheek tenderly.

"What happened?" he rasped, the brief sentence sending him into another coughing fit, which he tried to muffle.

Adrian stirred slightly in the bed, but didn't wake. Mindful of the sleeping boy, Harry moderated his tone carefully as he replied to Draco's query.

"He tried to kill himself," Harry hissed angrily.

Draco turned to look up at Harry, his eyes wide, frightened, unbelieving. "What?" he managed to croak, sounding as confused as he looked.

"He didn't come to class this morning, so I went looking for him. He had attempted to poison himself - Silens Mortis to be exact."

"How..." Draco began, only to be cut off by another round of harsh coughs.

Again Adrian stirred, and Harry felt his anger turning to white-hot rage. He snatched Draco up by the front of his robes and marched him from the isolation room.

Draco leaned heavily against Harry, feeling dizzy and weak. He forced himself to speak. "How did he get it?"

"Adrian brewed the potion himself. At least that's what he told Snape. Any idea where he would have learned such a thing, Malfoy?" Harry snapped accusatorily.

"What are you implying?" Draco asked, the heat taken from his voice by the fact that he couldn't speak above a hoarse whisper.

"I'm not implying anything Malfoy. I'm asking you a question. Unless he's managed to sneak into the Restricted Section, which is damned hard to do, Adrian didn't get that potion recipe at Hogwarts."

"And you think I'd keep something like that lying around where my children could find it?" Draco asked incredulously, anger flashing in his eyes.

"What evidence do I have that you wouldn't? You certainly weren't worried about your son's well being when we spoke six weeks ago."

"How dare you?" Draco spat, drawing himself up to tower menacingly over Harry. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Potter!"

"I know that if you gave a damn your son wouldn't have tried to kill himself," Harry replied coldly.

Pain filled Draco's eyes and he staggered a few steps to sit on the edge of one of the infirmary's beds. "I didn't know... he never said..." He tried to stifle another fit of coughing. "I was wrong, Potter," He admitted quietly when he was able to speak again. "I was wrong, and it nearly cost my son his life."

Malfoy buried his face in his hands, his body trembling with repressed tears. Harry knew that as long as he was there, Draco wouldn't allow himself that luxury. Batting away the urge to console the grieving man, Harry turned away.

"Learn from your mistakes, Malfoy," he said a little harshly. "In the future, try placing your children ahead of your damned pride."

He strode off to find Madame Pomfrey, leaving the stricken man to deal with his tangled emotions on his own.

***

By the time that Harry found Poppy and returned to the spot where he had left Malfoy, the man was much calmed, though he seemed no less guilt-ridden. He submitted willingly to Madame Pomfrey's ministrations, letting the woman examine him and treat his illness.

Harry was not at all surprised to hear Malfoy admit that he hadn't been to see a mediwizard about his condition. He was beginning to see a pattern, and decided that the Malfoys likely equated illness with weakness and thought as little of seeking medical help as they would of seeking aid of any other type.

Slipping back into the isolation room, Harry found Adrian awake and sitting up in bed. The boy looked a little frightened.

"Adrian," Harry greeted with a smile as he moved to sit on the edge of the boy's bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right, sir," Adrian replied quietly.

Harry blinked in astonishment. He honestly hadn't been expecting a verbal response, much less a full sentence.

"You gave us all a bit of a scare. Luckily, Professor Snape knew how to counteract the poison. You'll be fine in a day or two."

"Am I going to be expelled?" Adrian asked, the fear in his innocent eyes twisting Harry's heart.

"No, Adrian," Harry replied gently. "You're not going to be expelled. You are going to have quite a few detentions for having such a dangerous potion on Hogwarts grounds, but.... We want to help you Adrian."

Adrian refused to meet Harry's eyes. Instead he looked down at his own hands as they picked at a loose thread near the bottom of his pyjama top. "Please don't tell my father," he whispered.

"I already know," Draco said from the doorway, causing both Harry and Adrian to jump slightly.

Adrian's face drained of all colour as he raised his eyes to meet his father's. "Are you angry with me?" Adrian asked in a tremulous whisper.

"I am very angry, Adrian," Draco said levelly. Harry's heart twisted again as he watched the boy sink back into the pillows as if trying to escape. "But I'm not angry with you," Draco continued before Harry could intercede. Draco crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, just opposite Harry. "I'm angry with myself for not realising how much you were hurting," he said, gently brushing the boy's pale locks back from his brow. "Do you think you can forgive me?"

Adrian burst into tears and leaned forward to let himself be wrapped in his father's warm embrace. Draco cradled the child to his chest, stroking his back and kissing the top of his head, pain and fear showing plainly on his face.

Harry left the two alone. He realised he had been wrong about Malfoy; the man did love his children. Harry had never been so happy to admit that he was wrong.

*************************

The next afternoon, after a long day spent administering exams, Harry made his way to McGonagall's office, eager to discuss Adrian's situation with the Headmistress. Minerva hardly had time to greet Harry and offer him tea before a knock at the door interrupted them. Predictably, the unexpected visitor was Draco Malfoy, who looked much improved after a night in Madame Pomfrey's care.

"Headmistress, I apologise for interrupting," Malfoy began smoothly, his eyes flickering to Harry and back again. "I wanted to discuss my children." He coughed discreetly into his handkerchief.

"Please sit down, Mister Malfoy," Minerva replied. "Professor Potter was just expressing his concern for your youngest son."

Draco turned his attention to the other man. "I wanted to thank you for looking after Adrian. You saved his life, and for that, I can never repay you. I am in your debt," Draco said humbly.

"It's my responsibility to care for each and every child that sets foot inside Hogwarts," Harry replied. "I was only doing my job. You owe me nothing."

Unsure exactly what to say, Draco merely nodded, his expression unreadable. He turned his attention back to the Headmistress.

"I'm in the process of making arrangements to transfer my children to another school. While I do not hold any of the staff here responsible for what happened - and in fact owe a great debt to Potter, Snape, and Pomfrey - I cannot in good conscience keep my son in an atmosphere that has so obviously disturbed him. I believe that the Wickam Institute would better suit our needs."

"Are you mad?" Harry snapped. Perhaps he was speaking out of turn, but someone had to look after Adrian's best interests.

Draco turned slowly to glare at Potter. "Do you have something to say, Professor?" he asked snidely.

"Yes!" Harry replied, his face flushing with anger. "Have you thought - really thought - about the implications of snatching your children out of school at this point? Seraphine and Damien are happy here. They get on well with their classmates. They enjoy their studies. Some of the older Slytherin's are talking to Damien about joining the Quidditch team next year. If you transfer them now, they'll not be happy about it. And if they know it's because of Adrian - as they invariably will - they'll resent him. How do you think that will affect his state of mind?" Harry paused to let his words sink in.

Although he was reluctant to admit it, Draco thought Harry might very well have a valid point. He leaned back in his chair, thinking, and smothered another cough.

"Perhaps you're right," Draco conceded at last. "Do you have a better suggestion?"

"The very same suggestion I gave you before," Harry replied levelly.

"Psychotherapy." Draco's tone was flat, but there was something in his eyes that made Harry believe he was a little more open to the idea now than he had been before.

"Yes."

"I suppose there is a qualified therapist on staff at Hogwarts?" Draco asked sarcastically, one eyebrow rising into a smooth, challenging arch.

Harry shook his head slightly in aggravation. "There is a licensed therapist in Hogsmeade, Malfoy. She's very good at what she does. I'm sure someone can make time to escort him there."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the slight barb. "I shall come and fetch him myself."

"Good," Harry said, rising from his chair and making for the door. "That's settled then."

Draco had the distinct impression that he had just been tricked. He decided that Harry Potter would have made a very good Slytherin.

Harry opened the door to the Headmistress' office, intending to go to the infirmary to visit with Adrian, and very nearly walked right into a glowering Professor Snape. Fixing Harry with his deadliest classroom glare, Snape brushed past the younger man and stepped into McGonagall's office, shutting the door firmly in the younger professor's face.

Noting Draco's presence, Severus paused. "Forgive me Minerva. I didn't mean to interrupt," he said smoothly, sounding not at all contrite.

"It's quite all right," McGonagall assured him. "Have you finished your inventory, Severus?"

"Everything is precisely as I left it," Snape replied coolly, his dark gaze purposefully avoiding young Master Malfoy.

"And Madame Pince?"

"The same, Headmistress."

Minerva sat back in her chair, looking deeply troubled. "Severus, if you would, please ask Professor Potter to make a few discreet inquiries."

Snape raised one eyebrow in a silent query. At some unspoken but crystal clear cue from the headmistress, Severus nodded slightly. "Very well," he said levelly before turning to sweep out of the room again.

Draco had heard every word the two had spoken, but felt as though he had missed out on the entire conversation.

***

Seraphine and Damien Malfoy lazed on Sera's bed in the Slytherin dorms filling their father in on the goings on in their lives at Hogwarts. Mostly the children's chatter was aimed at one another, and Draco was able to let his mind wander freely.

It amazed him, really, how little the Slytherin dungeons had changed since his own school days. The common room looked precisely as he remembered it, and the dormitories themselves were similar enough to the way they had been twenty years before to give Draco flashbacks.

Sitting at the foot of Sera's bed with his back resting against one of the bedposts, his knees drawn up, and his arms looped around his knees, Draco felt as lost as he had when he was a teenager. Everyone had assumed he had it easy, being a Malfoy with all the wealth and power that entailed, but Draco was certain that adolescence was never easy for anyone.

"So you're glad you chose Hogwarts?" Draco asked them, knowing already what their answer would be.

Seraphine flashed him her brightest smile. "Oh yes!" she assured him, going on to gush about how wonderful her classes were and the brilliance of her professors, Damien nodding in agreement with every word she said.

"Charms is best, though," Damien added, looking a little thoughtful. "Professor Flitwick lets Adrian and I work together. I miss him sometimes," he confessed.

"Is he feeling better?" Sera asked, her pretty blue eyes full of love and concern.

Draco wondered for a moment if he should tell Sera and Damien the truth about what had happened to their brother, but quickly decided that the choice should be left to Adrian. "He's somewhat better, yes. I think perhaps Madame Pomfrey will let us take him home in a day or two."

"So we get to go home for Christmas after all?" Damien asked, his eyes lighting up.

"If you like," Draco replied nonchalantly. "However, I've already told Father Christmas to bring your gifts to Hogwarts, so you might be a bit disappointed on Christmas Day," he teased.

***

After a brief meeting with Madame Pomfrey in her office, Draco headed for Adrian's room on the opposite end of the infirmary. He couldn't keep a slight smile from his face as he anticipated the boy's reaction to the news that he would be released later in the day to spend the remainder of the Christmas holiday at home with his family.

Outside the door to Adrian's room, Draco paused at the sound of Potter's voice. His jaw clenched involuntarily. By Merlin, he was tired of running into that prat all the damned time!

"That was quite a difficult potion you brewed," he heard Harry say. "Snape tells me that some of the ingredients are quite difficult to come by. Says the recipe itself is restricted such that it's a bit hard to find as well."

"You want to know where I got it, don't you?" Adrian replied, managing to sound both frightened and angry.

Potter sighed. "Adrian, I'm not trying to trick you into telling me anything you don't want to, but the Headmistress and I feel that it's important to know how you got the ingredients and the recipe. If students have access to such dangerous things, we need to know so we can protect the lot of you."

"No one else could get it, sir," Adrian said quietly. Draco knew that tone - it was the tone that said 'I've done something so terrible I know you'll be horribly disappointed in me so please give me a hug now before I confess.'

Draco heard a slight rustling noise, and then Potter spoke again, even more gently than before. "Tell me?"

"I nicked the aeger root and the boomslang venom," Adrian admitted in a hushed whisper.

"You stole them?" Harry asked. "From whom?"

"My grandfather."

Draco's blood ran cold. He clenched his hands into fists, but forced himself to stay as calm as possible.

"Did you take the recipe from him as well?" Potter asked.

"No, sir. He gave me a book. Dad had been teaching me how to brew some simple potions, and Grandfather said I deserved 'a little something' for doing my lessons so well."

"So he gave you a book of potions, and one of those potions was the Silens Mortis poison?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Yes sir," Adrian replied.

Unable to stand still a moment longer, Draco strode into Adrian's room, face flushed and eyes flashing. "Where is the book, Adrian?" he demanded a little harshly.

"In my trunk, sir," the boy answered, cowering back against the pillows.

Harry suddenly wondered at the child's reaction. Was Draco as prone to fits of anger as he had been back at school? Had he actually raised a hand to this boy to make him shrink away from him in such a way?

Eyes narrowing in anger, Harry stepped between Draco and his son.

Ignoring Potter for the moment, Draco peered over the other man's shoulder at Adrian. "Do you have anything else belonging to your Grandfather?" he asked coldly.

Adrian nodded stiffly, never taking his eyes off his father. "It's all in a box in my trunk."

Draco shifted his gaze back to Harry. "I want his things brought down at once," he demanded.

"Then I suggest you go and inform the Headmistress, as I am neither a house elf nor an errand boy," Harry ground out between clenched teeth.

Malfoy's nostrils flared with distaste, and for one startling moment Harry was certain that the other wizard was going to strike him. Instead, Draco turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Heart racing, Harry turned around slowly to face the wide-eyed boy in the hospital bed. Schooling his features to absolute calm, he moved to sit beside Adrian.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked gently.

"Did you see his eyes?" Adrian whispered. His own eyes were still riveted to the door.

Harry's brows drew together in a slight frown of confusion.

"I've never seen him so angry." He turned his gaze from the door to meet Harry's eyes. "I think... Please go and see that he doesn't do anything he'll regret," he pleaded.

Harry had no idea what the child was afraid Draco might attempt, but he too had the feeling that the man might do something rash in his current state of mind. Giving Adrian a quick, reassuring hug, Harry hurried after Malfoy.

***

After a quick word with Headmistress McGonagall, who informed him that Snape had escorted Draco up to the Hufflepuff dormitories, Harry felt a slight bit less panicky. Snape wouldn't let Malfoy do anything too drastic, surely. Still, he traveled the hallways at a quick walk, somewhere just short of a run, as he made his way to the Hufflepuff common room.

Harry burst into the common room, startling the few Hufflepuffs who had remained at Hogwarts for the holidays. Twice in the past few minutes, teachers had invaded their territory. They looked at Harry with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, but he was blissfully oblivious to their stares.

A brief pause to catch his breath so as not to appear winded, and then Harry was slowly climbing the stairs to Adrian's room. Long before he reached the open doorway, Harry could hear Draco's voice raised in fury.

"What the fuck was he thinking, giving these things to my son?" Malfoy shouted. "I'll kill him," he growled.

As Harry neared the door, he heard sounds of a light scuffle, and the low, silky sound of Snape's voice. He couldn't make out Snape's words, but he was certain that the man was either talking reason to Malfoy or threatening him to keep him from going off to murder Lucius Malfoy.

Pushing the door fully open, Harry leaned against the doorframe. Snape held Malfoy pinned against the wall, his beaky nose almost touching Draco's slightly upturned, aristocratic one. Snape seemed to be holding Draco in place more with his menacing gaze than with his hands.

At some slight noise, Draco jumped and turned his gaze on Harry. The anger in Malfoy's eyes had melted away to be replaced with something that Harry couldn't quite identify. Fear, perhaps?

Snape dropped his hands and took a step backward, effectively freeing the other wizard. Malfoy remained standing with his back against the wall, as if rooted to the spot. "What do you want, Potter?" he asked icily.

"Adrian sent me to make certain you didn't do anything foolish," Harry replied evenly. "You frightened him."

Draco turned away to rest his forehead against the cold windowpane, his fists clenched tightly enough to leave half moon bruises where his nails dug into the tender flesh of his palms.

Snape busied himself with packing the 'gifts' from Lucius back into their box. He would send a house elf up for Adrian's things and take the box of contraband himself, to be turned over to Draco after the man had cooled down a bit.

"I haven't time to stand around up here all day," Snape announced. "I shall leave you in Professor Potter's capable hands." With that, the older man slipped out the door and was gone.

Harry remained silent for some time, watching Draco stare sightlessly out the frosted window. Finally, he roused himself and moved to stand beside the other man.

"Adrian seemed very frightened of you," Harry stated evenly, trying to keep any hint of accusation from his voice.

Draco's head snapped up. "Frightened of me, Potter? Are you certain you aren't just seeing what you want to see?" he drawled.

"Believe me, I have no wish for any child to be afraid of his father."

"He isn't," Draco snapped. "He has no reason to be."

"Then why does he shy away from you when you're angry?" Harry asked, unsuccessfully trying to keep his voice calm.

Draco narrowed his eyes and frowned at the other man. "I don't have to explain myself or my son to you, of all people. Mind your own business."

"Adrian's well being is my business Malfoy."

"Spare me," Draco said, turning his attention back to the window.

"Have you ever raised a hand to your son?" Harry asked quietly.

Malfoy whirled, fire blazing in his normally cool grey eyes. "Do you honestly think I could ever strike Adrian?" he asked, his voice a mixture of incredulity and ire. "There have been times I've wanted to knock the insolence out of Damien, and even a time or two when I wanted to shake some sense into Sera, but I have never raised a hand against any of my children - least of all Adrian. The boy is practically a saint. I was half afraid he'd end up in Gryffindor."

Harry fought back a grin at the look of disgust on Malfoy's face. He had wanted to believe that the man would not hurt his children, and something in Draco's eyes reassured him. Taking a deep breath, he forged ahead.

"Do you think perhaps the reason that Adrian is so frightened of you when you're angry is because you remind him of Lucius? You look a great deal like him, you know, but never more so than when you've worked yourself into a rage."

Draco blanched. The last thing he wanted was to be anything like his father. He loved his parents, yes, but he disagreed with them on more issues than he cared to count.

"I don't know, Potter," he admitted quietly. "But I think perhaps I should find out."