Pairing: Harry/Draco Warning: none yet... except ummm i'm still new to all this so... don't expect the world
Warnings: Slash, Language, Non-con-ish, OoC
Summary: A misfired spell. In the enemy's clutches. Nothing is as it seems
Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's, i'm just borrowing it to twist and maim to my own devious purposes. No worries, she'll get them back in the end.
Review still... please.
Also the promises of it all making sense shall be fulfilled in the second part, promise. =D
I think thats it...
"What is it?" Harry asked suspiciously, warily sniffing the piece of food he'd been given.
"Just eat the fucking food Potter, or you can starve for all I care!"
Malfoy was still in a bad mood, and for some reason it made Harry feel reckless, almost scarily so. He just wanted to make Malfoy scream in annoyance, like he did at that moment in time. Here he was, stuck in a box, absolutely tiny with so much to do.
Malfoy gave him a bemused look
"It's waffles OK? WAFFLES Potter! No poison that will rid this world of your wretched presence, JUST PLAIN OLD NORMAL ENGLISH WAFFLES!" Harry watched, absolutely riveted as Malfoy became slightly hysterical, standing up near the end and walking away to flop melodramatically on his bed; not that Harry actually saw that, just heard it.
"I hate you." Draco muttered, slightly muffled by his pillow as he rolled over and stretched out on his bed, any thoughts Potter-unrelated gone from his mind. After all, the completely INSANE Golden Boy was in his home… in any other circumstance he would have used this as blackmail material to get him and his family a safe passage to France or something, but currently all he wanted to do was sleep. Screw Potter.
"Ummmmmmmmmm Malfoy?" Harry called after Draco didn't return, "Malfoy?" Maybe he shouldn't have called him darling. Why had he called him darling exactly? He should probably stop acting on these strange whims of his he realised, wondering what Malfoy had thought as he'd said it before giggling to himself hysterically.
"I'm in here Isillia"
'Are you OK?'
"Did you expect me not to be?"
'Sometimes, Master can be…'
"...unpredictable? I'm fine no worries. What's Malfoy doing?"
"What? Again? Bloody hell… does he always sleep this much?"
'He is sick.'
"So what?" before he added suspiciously "How sick?"
'I am unsure.'
"Can you get me out of here?"
Rather than answer, her head appeared over the side of the box and she paused momentarily surveying the room and checking that Harry was OK, before Harry found himself floating slowly off the bed. He quickly grabbed his wand from where it lay on the floor unwilling to go around Malfoy's room unprotected despite the very little he could do with the wand. It was a strange sensation being floated with nothing to hold you, nothing like flying at all because at least with that you were in control and he was greatly relieved when he landed on the bed.
He walked over to where Malfoy was sprawled on his bed face down, definitely asleep. He sat down and leaned against Malfoy's shoulder yawning loudly before he jumped up in annoyance, he was not going to go back to sleep. Following the line of Malfoy's arm, he decided to walk around Malfoy to get to his broom on the other bedside table rather than walk across him which would be rather rude, besides the exercise should do him good. Harry stayed close to Malfoy's side, examining his long slim arm; the unmarked one all pale flesh with absolutely tiny blonde hairs. He paused at the hand, horrified to see the entire back of his hand a sickeningly purple colour with tiny scratches over the knuckles, apparently Malfoy bruised easily.
Lightly brushing the bruised skin, Harry continued walking across the vast expanse of black before he slipped on something and went sliding down the wet sheet into Malfoy's side. Wet sheets? He looked up at the sound of dripping from where he had initially slipped and watched mesmerised as something dripped from the edge of Malfoy's t-shirt; getting up he walked gingerly back and held his hand under the dripping and froze as his hand was splashed with a dark red liquid again and again. He swayed slightly leaning against Malfoy's side as the coppery smell of blood began to overwhelm him.
He climbed up Malfoy's side, slipping on the smooth skin and the blood combined until he was standing on the other boy's back. The presumably normally pale skin was now a mottled patchwork of purples and pinks, with a streak of blood dripping from under the slightly rucked up shirt. Removing his trainers and stepping carefully over the skin, Harry began to push the t-shirt up nausea beginning to rise up in him as he realised the t-shirt was wet and all the cuts across Malfoy's back were bleeding profusely.
"ISILLIA! ISILLIA!" he called, his voice scratching in panic as his vision was filled with liquid red and the smell of blood rose around him.
"Draco?" A knock accompanied the worried voice, "Draco? Open the door darling!"
"Accio invisibility cloak," he yelled wondering where the cloak was exactly and hoping it came fast as he jumped on to the bed.
"Draco? I know you're in there, you haven't come out for a while. What's wrong?"
There was a moment of silence as she strained to listen for any reply from her son before she went for the handle and tried to open the door. Her wrist was beginning to burn and her breathing was beginning to quicken almost painfully.
"DRACO!" her voice was getting increasingly panicky and she cast a few spells on the door in an attempt to open it, "Please Draco!!" her voice was unrestrained and gave Harry shivers even through the door. He scrambled up to Draco's face and pressed himself against the boy's neck searching for a pulse, so far this was not going to plan.
"I will never forgive you if you're being all brave and noble on me Draco Lucius Malfoy, I know something is wrong!"
The bracelet around her wrist was burning furiously, more so than usual and she knew that this time it wasn't her husband in trouble. She moved the bracelet up from where it was resting as the smell of burning flesh and the pain of it began to increase and faltered from her door banging at the sight of her perfectly smooth, flawlessly pale, soft Black skin, marred by the scorching ring of fire that seemed to be twisted around her wrist.
Unable to help herself, her free hand went around the bracelet desperately trying to tug it off as tears began to run helplessly down her face and sobs wracking her body as her struggle became more violent, the skin of her palm now also burning. Never had she expected this when she had first charmed the bracelet to respond to the two men in her life. She tumbled against the door, collapsing on the floor, mere metres away from her son.
Then the sobs were gone and Narcissa's tearstained face took on a look of strange determination as she conjured a dagger and scrambled to her knees holding it over her arm just above the still sizzling flesh before bringing it down hard against her skin.
Severus Snape arrived in the Floo Hall at Malfoy Manor alone and found himself when there… still very much alone. He scanned the room for any sign of either of the Malfoy's but found it as clear as it had been on first sight. Something was definitely wrong, the Malfoy's always, always had someone to greet guests floo-ing in; especially when notice had been given. Not once in his thousands of visits had he been left alone in the Floo hall, never. Never ever ever. Whether it was an angry Lucius cursing the muggle fools or a glamorous Narcissa waiting with a glass of wine, even a young Draco talking non-stop about his favourite Quidditch team, someone was always there. His wand immediately found its way into his hand, another new for Malfoy Manor, it seemed rather disrespectful to socialise with a prestigious family looking like you were ready to curse everything that moved.
He could see that things had changed since Lucius was taken, perfect for him to replace him as Voldemort's right hand but leaving the hugest gaping hole in the Malfoy family. He'd watched Draco struggle to cope without the strength that kept him upright and confident for over a year, seen the anger in his eyes when Narcissa was threatened, heard the shuddering sobs of despair and more recently smelt the coppery tang of blood over his favourite student's usual clean coconut-ty smell. It was the reason he was here today, not just a social visit as Narcissa had assumed.
Narcissa, well there was no balance to her anymore and it was slightly terrifying even to him. Malfoy's have always been a power to be reckoned with, but Narcissa was a Black and Black's were passionate as well as powerful often stubborn and blinded by their beliefs. He often wondered if he should persuade the Dark Lord kill Draco just to see if Narcissa would be able to do what no one had managed before and kill the bastard with her bare hands. He didn't usually think of Narcissa as an Amazon, but now the image seemed fitting, a reckless and terrifying warrior. A woman on a mission trying to protect her son as if he were two again yet trying not to smother him with the possessiveness of a Gryffindor mother, like Molly Weasley he thought sourly. Slytherins they may be, but without Lucius they were a sinking boat and both now listened to a more basal instinct with self-preservation thrown to the dogs and loyalty only to the Malfoy name. They should be so easy to convert and yet it seemed so improbable that Severus had not the patience or will to attempt it.
Loyalty to his fellow snakes however kept him returning to keep an eye on them and he walked cautiously towards the main hall of the mansion, hoping a house elf could explain what was going on. He had only just reached the foot of the upwards staircase feeling strangely out of place in its opulence when he heard her scream, a terrified, heartbroken, my-life-is-over scream that sent his blood running cold followed by a flush of magic that seemed to sweep through the Manor leaving Severus feeling bereft and the mansion even colder than before.
In all of his contemplation he'd completely forgotten. The Malfoy's were his friends.
The door was open. The door was never open; opened and closed yes, but open? No. Pureblood families tended to be ridiculously private people, even when Draco was four he'd made sure everything was bound to his magical signature only, and so his bedroom door being wide open was just plain scary. For a moment, Severus wished he hadn't woken up this morning.
He stepped warily into the room, noting the blood trail across the middle of the wood door, and the smudged red handprint on the side of it before he took in the sight of Draco Malfoy's bedroom. Inside it looked like bloody murder, literally and Severus was almost grateful he was a Death Eater and had seen all there was to see, otherwise chances are he would have either fled or thrown up by now. He seemed frozen as he looked down at the slim form of Narcissa Malfoy lying prone on the floor, leaking blood across Draco's soft green carpet, then up at the form of the Malfoy heir, Lucius' pride and joy sprawled on his front looking like someone had poured the blood over him while he slept peacefully.
He swayed slightly at the thought of Lucius and rather hoped that he would never find out. Or at least die before he did find out, no one would want to be near Lucius when he discovered his family had been brutally-
He stiffened and checked to make sure no one was looking, despite knowing that no one was there, glad that both the Malfoy's were in to position to see his assumptions, leaning over Narcissa he cast a quick healing spell on her wrist, than transfigured a table into a small bed that he lifted her on to after moving the box on it to the floor. She wasn't dead… obviously. His attention was caught by the burning on the wrist and he wondered what had caused it before he realised that the bracelet she was wearing was now burning her skin further up. He cast a charm to surround the bracelet with a layer of foam so that it was no longer in contact with her skin before turning to Draco.
"Oody!" he snapped waiting for the house elf to appear in front of him before sending the poor thing on an errand to get him a long list of potions that might or might not be remotely helpful. He carefully cast a spell to remove Draco's t-shirt, usually used for slightly different purposes, but perfectly suited for this need as well. He shuddered at the sight of the boy's back, just knowing that Draco would hate it, vain pretty Draco who refused to scar. Casting a few cleansing spells he took a good look at the cuts across his back, thin but plentiful like… whip marks? He carefully pushed the boy upwards slightly and rolled him on to his side where he found his chest covered also with similar bleeding cuts, though not as severe, almost as if though they'd been healed recently.
He cleaned and healed the cuts methodically working from chest to back, trying to ignore the fact that he could no longer hear Draco breathing and that his chest wasn't moving at all.
"Breathe! Breathe damn it BREATHE! I swear Draco Malfoy, if you die, I will… I will! Do something terrible and unforgivable you stupid STUPID idiot with really soft hair." Harry hissed angrily in to the skin of Malfoy's neck, keeping an eye of Snape to insure he wasn't caught.
It was the helpless thing coming back Harry realised, hating that he might just end up leaning against Malfoy's ice cold bloodless skin just feeling the boy die. It was a strange feeling… because really he didn't like Malfoy, maybe it was just a side-effect of his amazing plan to use Malfoy to get him safely with his own, while bringing the Dark Lord down en-route failing dramatically. It was a ridiculous plan anyway, Malfoy was too gray to be used for any purpose without the guilt weighing to heavily upon his head. Too in between, too young, too close to home. Sure he was annoying, drove Harry crazy almost every time their paths crossed, but that was just his… charm. His first wizard Harry remembered, nonchalantly stroking his neck, his first proper offer of friendship he realised with a pang, his first equal enemy, his first Slytherin, his first Malfoy. It was a strange feeling that came over him, like Malfoy was his, and no one should be allowed to touch him.
He jumped at the sound of a loud crack, signalling the house elf's appearance.
"Master Snape, sir, I brought the potions you requested sir," it squeaked nervously holding out a box with assorted bottles and vials of different shapes and colours.
Snape snatched the box and immediately started ruffling through it finding a bottle of red liquid that he pulled the stopper from and poured into Narcissa Malfoy mouth, holding her head up slightly to prevent her choking. Harry's eyes wandered to the house elf staring in absolute terror at the blood that was now splattered over the room, Narcissa's, Draco's, Narcissa and Draco's.
"Why are you still here?" Snape snapped only just noticing the elf hadn't left.
"Is there anything else Oody can help Master Snape with for the mistress and young master?"
Snape paused slightly surprised by this willingness to help by the elf, before he remembered that it was Lucius who got kicks out of elf abuse and these two probably couldn't be bothered with it now they had bigger fish to fry.
"No, if I need you, I shall call," Snape said before turning and completely ignoring the elf who gave Narcissa a worried look before leaving.
WHY was everyone so worried about Narcissa? WHAT ABOUT DRACO? Draco was obviously in a worse shape, he needed the help, not Narcissa, all she'd done was slit her wrist; Draco was dying. Harry wanted to scream in annoyance wishing he could just do something before he almost did scream when he felt a wetness at his neck. He whirled automatically finding himself terrifyingly close to Isillia, much as he liked her, she was a poisonous adder and he was so small and her tongue was currently wetting his neck through the cloak.
'He thinks Massster is dead.'
"WHAT? Why? Is he MAD?"
'Massster IS almost dead.'
"I KNOW THAT! So why isn't he fixing it?" Where was Madame Pomfrey when you needed her?
'He thinkssss it iss too late, hurry Harry you musssst help.,'
"How?" he asked, slightly put out by her accent slippage making her sound more snake-like with her drawn out s's. Apparently her good upbringing went out of the window in perplexing situations.
'No spellsssss, jussst magic.'
'Yessssss little one, you musst hurry!'
"I don't know how!" Harry was almost sobbing now with confusion and desperation.
'Concentrate on your magic and build it up, you will find it within you.'
"What… what does it look like?"
'It can't be ssssseen, you will recognise it.'
Harry stared at her in fear before closing his eyes, tears trickling freely now as he tried to 'find his magic'. Regulating his breathing, he tried to think of how he managed spells wandlessly; true it didn't happen often at all, but when he did he felt the tingle of magic on him as opposed to through his wand.
'It is not the word, but the thought.'
The words breaking into his thinking suddenly made so much sense and he concentrated on trying to heal without confining it to a word. He'd let so many people die, and it had to end now, Malfoy was not going to die on his watch. Damn it, Malfoy had no right to die and make Harry feel even more guilty, just like him to go and die just to make life that little bit harder for Harry. Fucking arrogant bastard. Anger suddenly thrummed through him like a wildfire making his blood boil angrily and his skin heat up quickly, thoguh this time it seemed to be combines with something tingly that was prickling his skin. Opening his eyes slightly he could see that Isillia was gone… well her head was gone, her tail was wrapped firmly around his waist and seemed to be channelling the red glow that had appeared around him, mixing with her own gold-ish glow till it was almost invisible. The red abruptly stopped and suddenly Isillia was there again
He nodded blankly trying to recreate the feeling and watching as the red glow enveloped his body before entwining again with Isillia's and travelling up her body which was draped all over Draco's torso and covered in his blood which was once again dripping from the wounds. After less than 30 draining seconds, he felt the muscles in Draco's throat convulse and then a hoarse cough came out of his cracked lips. He sighed with relief hoping that they needn't do much more because all of a sudden he felt drained and darkness began to tug on the ends of his consciousness. He looked up momentarily and froze when he saw Snape seemingly looking straight at him with a look of absolute astonishment on his face.