Retrieved -
'The
Harry was standing in the unused classroom next to Transfiguration at 8AM, waiting, he'd at least managed to get some food into himself before facing the next disaster, Luna Lovegood...
The door to the classroom opened, and Harry saw, and gave himself a really
One more thing he hadn't thought of, one more thing he
The older boy's green-trimmed formal robes were askew, there were red spots on them looking very much like small dots of fresh blood, and one corner of his mouth had the look of a place that had been cut and healed, by
Lesath Lestrange's face was streaked with tears, fresh tears and half-dried tears, and there was water in his eyes, a promise of still more on the way. '
And then Lesath lowered his wand and sheathed it in his robes, and slowly this time, formally, the older boy dropped to his knees on the dusty classroom floor.
Bowed his head all the way down, until his forehead also touched the dust, and Harry would have spoken but he was voiceless.
Lesath Lestrange said, in a breaking voice, 'My life is yours, my Lord, and my death as well.'
'I,' Harry said, there was a huge lump in his throat and he was having trouble speaking, 'I -'
'Thank you,' whispered Lesath, 'thank you, my Lord, oh, thank you,' the sound of a choked-off sob came from the kneeling boy, all Harry could see of him was the hair on the back of his head, nothing of his face. 'I'm a fool, my Lord, an ungrateful bastard, unworthy to serve you, I cannot abase myself enough, for I - I shouted at you after you helped me, because I thought you were refusing me, and I didn't even realize until this morning that I'd been such a fool as to ask you in front of Longbottom -'
'I didn't have anything to do with it,' Harry said.
(It was still very hard to tell an outright lie like that.)
Slowly Lesath raised his head from the floor, looked up at Harry.
'I understand, my Lord,' said the older boy, his voice wavering a little, 'you do not trust my cunning, and indeed I have shown myself a fool... I only wanted to say to you, that I am not ungrateful, that I know it must have been hard enough to save only one person, that they're alerted now, that you can't - get Father - but I am not ungrateful, I will never be ungrateful to you again. If ever you have a use for this unworthy servant, call me wherever I am, and I will answer, my Lord -'
'I was not involved in any way.'
(But it got easier each time.)
Lesath gazed up at Harry, said uncertainly, 'Am I dismissed from your presence, my Lord...?'
'I am not your Lord.'
Lesath said, 'Yes, my Lord, I understand,' and pushed himself back up from the floor, stood straight and bowed deeply, then backed away from Harry until he turned to open the classroom door.
As Lesath's hand touched the doorknob, he paused.
Harry couldn't see Lesath's face, as the older boy's voice said, 'Did you send her to someone who would take care of her? Did she ask about me at all?'
And Harry said, his voice perfectly level, 'Please stop that. I was not involved in any way.'
'Yes, my Lord, I'm sorry, my Lord,' said Lesath's voice; and the Slytherin boy opened the door and went out and shut the door behind him. His feet sped up as he ran away, but not fast enough that Harry couldn't hear him start sobbing.
Harry didn't know, so he just kept looking at the door.
And some unbelievably tactless part of him thought,
'Then his life isn't in danger, I take it,' said Amelia.
The healer, a stern-eyed old man who wore his robes white (he was a Muggleborn and honoring some strange tradition of Muggles, of which Amelia had never asked, although privately she thought it made him look too much like a ghost), shook his head and said, 'Definitely not.'
Amelia looked at the human form resting unconscious on the healer's bed, the burned and blasted flesh, the thin sheet that covered him for modesty's sake having been peeled back at her command.
He might make a full recovery.
He might not.
